Excentryke's Musings

Title: Regina
Author: ExcentrykeMuse
Fandom: Harry Potter Series (Wicked Stepmother Universe)
Pairing: Lily/Lucius
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: pureblood culture, kidnapping, fairy hunting, pureblood bigotry
Prompt: for cat b who wanted pureblood!Lily and (hopefully) Lucius!

~ * Regina * ~

I.

Lucius heard her laugh first.  He was walking down Diagon Alley when he heard her and even though he was speaking with Rabastan Lestrange he turned and his eyes sought her out.  Immediately finding her, he took in her luscious auburn hair and freckled skin.  She was dressed horribly in Muggle jeans and a corduroy jacket, but her high cheekbones belied her pureblood heritage.

“Who is that?” Lucius demanded and Rabastan turned.

“Who?”

“That beautiful pureblood dressed like a common Mudblood.”  Lucius pointed her out discreetly with the end of his cane and Rabastan turned toward her.

“She wasn’t in Slytherin.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Lucius insisted as he turned around and pulled Rabastan along with him so that they could follow the mysterious pureblood.  “She could have been in Ravenclaw or even Hufflepuff.”

“Aren’t you getting married to my brother’s sister-in-law?” Rabastan laughed.

“Details,” Lucius insisted as they came up to Flourish & Blotts and dipped inside.  He looked around and saw that the horribly dressed pureblood was over in the novels section of the bookstore and was unfortunately still with her half-blood friend. 

He left Rabastan at the door and sidled toward the novels, thinking he could pick up a book for a cousin.  His mother’s young cousin Millie Flint was in Hogwarts and might like something vacuous.  He couldn’t be bothered to remember if the girl was a second or third year, but she could grow into whatever book he chose.

Choosing the shelf opposite hers so that their backs were to each other, he ran the head of his cane along a shelf and made sure that he carefully bumped into her.  “Oh, I do beg your pardon!” he apologized as he turned to her with a smile.

The beautiful witch turned with a smile on own her face, and Lucius noticed she had the most incredible green eyes.  Not a Prewett then.  “No, no, it must have been me,” she said, holding a book to her chest.  “I reached down.”

“Find anything good?  I’m looking for a Start of the Year present for my little cousin Millie.”

The witch beside the beauty rolled her eyes and walked down the aisle, murmuring, “See you once he’s got your floo address,” before disappearing.  It seemed this gorgeous woman was universally admired.  Lucius had the edge, though.  He had the name and the family—he could always cancel his engagement.

She looked to the side, but didn’t answer before turning her attention back to Lucius.  “Oh, how old is she?”

“Millie?” Lucius asked, having already forgotten about her.  “About twelve or thirteen.  She’s a third cousin,” he explained away.

“Well, she’ll absolutely love Matilda,” the witch declared.  “I know they have it here.  It’s by a Muggle about a girl who gets magical powers.”  Lucius had to keep from pulling a face.  “It’s absolutely fascinating.  She drives all the Muggles mad with her power and they get their comeuppance in the end!”

“Well, if the Muggles get their comeuppance,” he decided as she searched the shelf behind him before pulling out a book.  Lucius wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying.  He was too busy checking out her bum in those sinful jeans.  It seemed Muggle fashion was good for something.  “I don’t remember you from Hogwarts,” he told her as she turned back toward him.

“No, I don’t remember you,” she agreed.  “I’m going into my seventh year.  Gryffindor.”

Hopefully she wasn’t Dumbledore’s pet.  That would be tragic.

“I would have been a seventh year when you were a first year.  I was practically before your time.  Still,” he said, smiling at her.  “Interhouse cooperation.”

She laughed, that wonderful, bright laugh.  With the Takeover you rarely heard anything as carefree as that.  He was absolutely enchanted.  She held out her hand in the Muggle style.  He looked at it carefully and considered.  She couldn’t actually be progressive despite her horrible clothing, could she?

“Lily Evans.”

Evans was a Muggle name.  Still, she looked like a pureblood.  It was an odd conundrum.

Lucius carefully took her hand, lifted it to two inches below his lips and let it hover there.  “I can’t believe you’re a Muggleborn,” he told her carefully, “not with cheekbones like that.”

She didn’t seem remotely surprised.  “You’re not the first person to say that to me.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.  “How often is it said?”

Shrugging, Lily took back her hand.  “Often enough.  My best friend Severus first said it when I was seven years old.  Of course, I didn’t know what it meant at the time.”

“No, of course not,” he agreed carefully, taking her in.  “Do you have any reason to believe you might not be a Muggleborn?”

She hesitated a second too long.

“Right.”  He took the book out of her hands and saw that she was reading the latest book in a series about Arthurian magic.  This one was about the dark witch Ninian.  He put his hand at the small of her back and led her to the cash register.  Putting down the two books, he quickly paid for them and asked for them to be wrapped separately, not listening to Lily’s protests when she insisted she could pay for her own book.

He saw her little half-blood friend lost in the potions section and he glared at Rabastan as he left the bookstore and led Lily to The Sleeping Dragon.  He would have taken her to The White Witch, but she wasn’t dressed for it.

“I’m Lucius Malfoy, by the way,” he introduced himself once she had a licorne lemonade in front of her.  He took a long sip of his lavender fizz.  “Now, Miss Evans.  Why don’t you explain?  You have a willing ear of someone who has enough influence to have someone at the Ministry listen to you.”

“Why would I need someone at the Ministry to listen to me?” she asked carefully, her green eyes wide.

“Well, the goblins won’t perform blood magic without a heritage certificate of some sort or an order from the Ministry.”  He steepled his fingers.  “Now, Miss Evans.  You look like the quintessential pureblood.  Half-bloods don’t even have cheekbones like yours.”

“—No,” Lily agreed.  “It is something we said as children, Severus and I.  He said he always thought I was adopted.  Mum and Dad have curly blond hair and blue eyes.  So does Petunia.  Mum and Petunia have horse necks.  I look nothing like them.  And I have magic.”

“Severus is a wizard.”  Of course he was, with a name like that.

“Yes, we grew up a few streets away from each other.  His mother’s a Prince.  Sev is the one who told me what I was doing was magic.—He’s—He’s a Death Eater now.”  She took a long sip of her licorne lemonade.

Despite his mother being a Prince, this Severus obviously didn’t have connections, otherwise his mother would have seen to this before now.  There also must have been some sort of fallout, between a supposed Muggleborn Lily Evans and the Death Eater Severus.  That was unfortunate.  Lucius would just have to change that.  As long as this Severus didn’t have ideas, he would be the perfect companion for a pureblood Lily.

“Well, Miss Evans, I can see the evidence with my own eyes.  Have you asked your Muggle parents about it?”

Lily hesitated again and tried to buy time by taking another sip of her lemonade.

It didn’t work.  He still regarded her over his steepled fingers.

“I tried once,” she finally confessed into the uncomfortable silence.  “Mum started crying and Dad yelled at me.”  Definitely hiding something then.  Trust Muggles.

She really was beautiful though.  Narcissa had a cold beauty that never moved him.  She was socially expeditious.  Lily, though, Lily moved him.  He needed her to be a pureblood and a well placed one, Lucius realized.  He took another sip of his lavender fizz.

“Come tomorrow.  Dress in robes, if you are able.  I’ll see that we have an appointment at the Ministry.”

“No one can just get an appointment at the Minist—”  She paused and looked at him before taking another sip of her licorne lemonade.  She had seen the way of it then.

Letting Lily go home with Muggles was extremely difficult for Lucius.  He didn’t trust Muggles as far as he could throw them, and he wouldn’t throw them very far.  He’d much rather torture them.  He’d torture these Muggles in a few days when he could get his hands on them unless Lily had some strange emotional attachment to them.  Even if she did, she would see the way of it.  They were most likely kidnappers.

Her hair smelled like sunlight, and he kept that memory with him.

“So who is she?” Rabastan asked when they met later that evening.

“She thinks she’s a Muggleborn.”

Rabastan looked up.

“I know.  It’s preposterous.  We’ll soon get to the bottom of it.”

“I sometimes wonder what it would be like if little Regina hadn’t been stolen away by the fairies,” Rabastan mused, mentioning his little sister who had been stolen away when he was a young man at Hogwarts.  “What she would be like.”

Lucius had heard murmurings of the young Regina Lestrange.  She was Rodolphus and Rabastan’s little half-sister who had disappeared from her cradle, never to be seen again.  She had been a toddler with auburn hair like her Prewett mother and the Lestrange green eyes—

Lucius regarded Rabastan.  “How old would Regina be now?”

“Seventeen last January,” he answered morosely.  “Nothing for it.  I’m going fairy hunting.”

That’s what the Lestrange brothers did when they were in a mood.  They went fairy hunting to avenge their sister’s memory.  A great deal of blood stained their hands.  They were single handedly responsible for depleting the fairy population of Devon.

Lucius flicked his hand at his friend, showing he could go, but his mind pondered.  What if it hadn’t been the fairies that had taken little Regina off?

When he met the incomparable Lily the next day, he took her in.  Her eyes were the same emerald green as the Lestrange brothers, but that didn’t prove anything.  She was dressed in pretty pink robes, her hair brushed out down her back.  She was the picture of a carefree young pureblood, and he took her hand and let it hover just beneath his lips.

“Miss Evans.”

“Mr. Malfoy.  I got your note.”

“Yes,” he agreed, seeing that she was here at The Sleeping Dragon.  “I thought it was better not to take the meeting at the actual Ministry.  I don’t want your name recorded.”

She looked at him speculatively with her intelligent green eyes.  Lucius wouldn’t be the first to look away.

It was the approach of Tankard, a low ranking Death Eater who worked at the Ministry, who caused Lily to glance off in his direction.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy,” he greeted, shaking Lucius’s hand before sitting in the free chair.  “I got your letter.  Is this the young pureblood in question?”

“Yes,” Lucius told him.  “You can see the cheekbones.”

Tankard, the insufferable man, reached out and took Lily’s chin between his fingers before turning her face from side to side to get a better look.  “Quite so,” he agreed.  “You need to buy a heritage potion and then get it sealed by the Goblins.”

“A heritage potion,” Lucius checked.

“I’d apply to the Potters.  They have one or two for sale.  They’re not cheap, but I believe you can afford it.  Have Griphook witness it.”  He released Lily’s chin but looked at her appreciatively.  “Hogwarts?” he asked.

“Seventh year,” she answered. 

“You’re seventeen, then.  A pity you weren’t discovered sooner.”  He looked between the two of them and then stood.  “Let me know how it turns out.  It will be interesting to see who Miss Evans actually is.  Prewett, maybe.  Maybe not.”  He shrugged.

Lily nodded and sat perfectly still until he left.

Leaning forward, she asked, “Prewett?”

“You look a great deal like a Prewett except for your eyes.  I have a theory about your eyes.”  He took a sip of his tea.  “Come,” he said, putting down a sickle for their morning repast, “we shall go to Potter Abbey.”

“Potter—Abbey?” Lily squeaked.

Lucius looked at her as he stood and held out his hand to lift her from her seat.

“Why, of course, Miss Evans.  We need a heritage potion.  We must go to the source.”

“But James Potter fancies me,” she whispered to him as he threaded her hand through his arm before picking up his cane.  “He calls me his ‘lily flower.’”

“Well, your name might not be ‘lily’ for much longer,” Lucius promised her as they walked toward the public floo.

It was clear Lily Evans was not used to the floo.  She practically tripped out of it, Lucius having to catch her.  She looked around in awe, but Lucius was busy giving his card to a house elf and allowing them to be led to a small sitting room.

It was Mrs. Euphemia Potter who came in with the heritage potion in a vial.  She was an elegant witch with messy gray hair and bright hazel eyes, lines showing into her skin.  It was said she was in her hundred and seventies now, and she still had a boy in Hogwarts.

“You said you wanted six generations,” she checked, looking between the two.  “I only have the one in stock.  If she has Muggle ancestors, they won’t show up.”

“I completely understand, Mrs. Potter,” Lucius said graciously.  “I don’t believe that will be a problem.”

“No,” Mrs. Potter agreed, looking over at Lily.  “I don’t believe it will.—Two hundred and seventy one galleons,” she quoted, and Lucius happily took out his checkbook, after leveling a look at Lily so she wouldn’t object.

Next they flooed to Gringotts but not before Lucius borrowed Mrs. Potter’s owl and sent Rabastan a letter, telling him to get to Gringotts upon receipt of the owl.  There wasn’t time to waste.

He and Lily were sitting in Griphook’s office, Lily having already mixed her blood with the potion and spread it across a large piece of heritage paper, only waiting for Rabastan’s arrival to complete the final spell.

“I’m here, I’m here!” Rabastan said as he hurried in, taking in the assembled party.  “Lucius, what is the meaning of this?”

“You told me Regina was taken by the fairies and would be a seventh year at Hogwarts.”  He tipped his cane toward Lily.  “She was taken by Muggles.  Auburn hair, the Lestrange eyes.  Don’t you want to see if she’s Regina?”

Rabastan blinked once, twice, and then glared at Lucius before coming up to Lily and cradling her face between his hands.  “At least you don’t have the Lestrange nose,” he finally decided, “though that might prove you’re someone else.”  He looked over at the heritage parchment and sighed.  “Well, what are we waiting for?”

“We were waiting for you,” Griphook told him nastily before tapping the heritage parchment with his finger and the blood soaked into the parchment before unfurling into words.

They all waited with baited breath as the blood began to form into words.

‘Regina Elinora Lestrange (Lily)’ it read in the center, before branching out on the left to ‘Randolph Lestrange’ and on the left to ‘Flora Yaxley.’  From ‘Randolph’ two separate names spread above Regina’s to show she had brothers, half-brothers, as they weren’t connected to Flora, ‘Rodolphus’ and ‘Rabastan.’  ‘Rodolphus’ was married to ‘Bellatrix Black.’  Then the lines spread out on each side into the six generations.

“There we have it,” Lucius told Rabastan.  “Just like I said.  Lily Evans is ‘Regina,’ not stolen away by the fairies.  Though, they could have stolen her away and left her in a field where she was found by Muggles, if we’re being entirely honest.”

Rabastan was just staring at the heritage parchment in shock before he looked over at Lily who was sitting quite still in her seat.

“Regina?” he asked.

Her bright green eyes, just like his, flashed up and she nodded.  “I suppose you’re my brother now?” she asked carefully.

“Yes, Regina,” he answered, leaning down and kneeling beside her chair and looking up at her wondrously.  “We’ll have to tell Rodolphus.”

Lucius was leaning forward and rolling up the parchment, setting it with wax and allowing Griphook to seal it with Gringotts magic to authenticate it.

“She’ll have to go move in with one of you,” Lucius told him.  “You don’t want her back at the Muggles’.”

“No, of course not,” Rabastan quickly agreed, wrenching his eyes from Lily—Regina now.  “She’s not going back there at all.  We’ll send someone to pick up her trunk.”  He pulled out Regina’s seat for her and thanked Griphook.  “We’ll go find Rodolphus now.”

There was a great deal of disbelief, but soon Regina was given her own room in the Lestrange Stronghold and Rabastan was sent to fetch her things from the Evans family as well as to interrogate the Muggles about what had happened on their end.

Lucius was left alone with Regina’s eldest brother.

“Rabastan told me yesterday that you were chasing tail despite being engaged to Cissy.”  His voice was harsh and his green eyes shone darkly in the dim room.  He had poured them each a glass of firewhiskey.  “Rabastan also said that Regina is a Gryffindor.”

“She is,” Lucius agreed.  “I don’t know how far her allegiances sway.”

“That is for Rabastan and I to learn.  We are, of course, grateful—”

“I didn’t find out for you and Rabastan,” Lucius told him harshly.  “I chased Regina so I could end my engagement to Narcissa and pursue her instead.  Narcissa isn’t half the witch Regina is.  You can feel the power coming off of her.”

“What does your father say to all of this?” Rodolphus asked carefully, not committing to anything.

“It’s been less than twenty-four hours.  It’s happened far too quickly for him to know anything.  He’ll get used to the idea.  Regina is Sacred Twenty-Eight.  She’s your sister.  There’s nothing to object to.”

“No,” Rodolphus agreed.  “No, I suppose there are no objections apart from her youth and your standing engagement.”

“The first is remedied by time.  The second is remedied by a conversation.—If I have your permission.”

Rodolphus glanced up the stairs.  “I’m not going to confuse Regina by throwing suitors at her moments after she learned she was a pureblood.  I cannot stop you from writing to her or sending her flowers, but I demand you end your engagement first.  The hope of Regina has to be enough for you.”

“I will write to you when it has been done.”  He finished his firewhiskey, saluted Rodolphus with his cane, and walked out of the door.  He had to see Narcissa immediately.  Fortunately an engagement had yet to be announced in The Prophet as of yet.

II.

The first letter Regina wrote was to Severus Snape after speaking to her sister-in-law Bellatrix.  Her newfound pureblood status put the entire argument by the Black Lake in a new kind of perspective, so she took out a piece of stationary that was embossed with the Lestrange Family name, and she quickly wrote it before she could second guess herself.

She had been discovered in a bookshop on a Thursday.  She had come to the Lestrange Stronghold on a Friday.  She waited for Severus after church on that Sunday.

Bellatrix had seen to it she had a suitable wardrobe, promising her more robes and cloaks when they went shopping for Hogwarts.  The ones they purchased were only for summer.

When Severus arrived, they stared at each other for several long moments before she carefully cleared her throat.  “You were right, Sev,” she told him.  “I am a pureblood.”

He looked around them.  “Is this a castle?”

“I don’t think so,” she told him.  “It’s certainly—impressive,” she stepped up to him and showed him down the hall away from the floo.  “It’s a stronghold.  It’s a military outpost of some kind.”

“It must date back centuries,” Severus murmured.

“Yes.  I think it goes back to the 1100s.”  She looked over at a suit of armor.  “Watch out for that one.  He moves on occasion.”

They went into a small sitting room where a house elf had brought tea, and Regina felt a little silly.  She and Severus would usually meet out by the swingset with stolen pieces of bread and cheese. 

“The Lestranges are a very influential family,” Severus told her carefully.

“Rodolphus is the head.  He’s my eldest brother.  Half-brother.”  She considered for a moment.  “His wife Bellatrix told me I should write to you.  She said everything that happened by the lake was Potter’s fault.”

Severus paused.  “A very influential family.”

“Rodolphus isn’t in the wizengamot.”

“—No,” Severus answered.  “He doesn’t need to be.”  He picked up his teacup.  “Lil—Regina.  How are you taking this?”

She considered for a moment.  “I think the question is whether you’re going to apologize for calling me a ‘Mudblood.’  It was a horrible thing to say.”

“You laughed.”

She had laughed for a moment.  “It wasn’t a kind thing to say.”

“It wasn’t a kind thing to do,” he snapped back acerbically.  Severus took a sip of his tea.  “Who else have you written?”

“No one, so far,” she admitted.  “It all just happened.”

He looked surprised.  “You wrote me first?”

Regina supposed he would be surprised.  They had had a rather bad falling out.  “You always said I was a pureblood,” she answered quietly.  “We used to talk about it.  If Tuney wasn’t my sister.  If I had another family—they could take us both away.”

“Yes,” he agreed quietly.  “It half came true.”  He cleared his throat.  “Regina is a very pretty name.”

She almost laughed.  “Thank you, Severus.”

“It’s a very pureblood name.”

“Yes.”

“How did they find you?”

She set her cup aside.  “Do you remember Lucius Malfoy from our first year?  He would have been a seventh year in Slytherin.”

“We hero worshiped him in Slytherin House,” Severus remembered.  “What about him?”

“He found me in Flourish and Blotts.”

Severus blinked.  “Lucius Malfoy found you?”

“Yes,” she answered, nodding to the flower arrangement on a side table.  It was made up of amaryllis and carnations.  “He sent that to me just this morning.”

Turning his head, Severus stared at the bouquet.  “You’re being courted by Lucius Malfoy?” he breathed in utter disbelief.

She paused.  “I asked Bellatrix about that,” she admitted (and Severus swallowed for some unknown reason) “and she said I shouldn’t worry about it.  Bellatrix said I should just enjoy the flowers and being appreciated by a wizard of good standing.”

“You’ve traded up from Potter,” Severus noted carefully.

Regina tried not to worry her bottom lip.  “I’ve thought about that.  I’m worried about how everyone in Gryffindor will take it.”

“Lucius Malfoy courting you?”

“Not that,” she admitted, flicking her fingers of her right hand.  “That’s neither here nor there.  I can hide flowers or at least keep it private.  No.  I meant my—readoption.  Can I call it that?  My reintegration?”

“Ah.”  Now he set his teacup down.  Leaning forward, he caught her worried green gaze.  “Regina.”  She glanced away.  “Lily.”  She looked back.  “If they are your true friends, they will support you.  It won’t matter if you’re a Muggleborn or a Lestrange.  Not to those who truly care about you.  It doesn’t matter to me.  I’m confused as to how it happened—but you’re still the you that you’ve always been.  There’s just a new dynamic to you.”

She looked at him hard and then got up, startling him.  She went to the door, which had been propped open, and closed it carefully.

“I need you to answer me truthfully, Severus,” she said as she sat back down.  “Are my brothers, to your knowledge—”  She looked back over her shoulder.  “Do you know if they’re Death Eaters?”

“You can’t ask me that, Regina,” he told her carefully.

“Why can’t I ask you that?” she demanded.

“First,” he told her, “I don’t know who the higher ups are.  I only know who the Death Eaters are at Hogwarts.”  Then he shifted uncomfortably.  “Second, I would get in a lot of trouble if I divulged that kind of information.”

“Severus!” she demanded.

“Regina—” he warned, but the door was opening and Bellatrix poked her head in.

“How is everything going, my poppet?”

Regina did her best not to grimace.  As a young woman of family, she could not be alone with a wizard unchaperoned, even though Severus was her oldest friend and they had been alone probably hundreds of times. 

“We were speaking about politics,” she half-lied.

“A wonderful subject!” Bellatrix agreed, her wild black hair forming a halo around her gorgeous face, “and one not too dangerous to leave the door open.  You may speak of anything, my darling.  I don’t mean to pry.”  She came up to them and smiled.  “You must be Severus Snape,” she greeted Severus.  “Regina told me you were her oldest friend.”

He stood and bowed formally.  “We’ve known each other since long before Hogwarts,” he agreed.

“Such friendships need to be cultivated,” Bellatrix told both of them, running a hand down Regina’s long auburn hair.  “She explained your falling out, and I told her it was all the Potter boy’s fault.  He sounds like quite the horror.  Never taking a lady at her word that she doesn’t want to go to Hogsmeade and asking not a second but a third and a fourth time!” she gasped.  “I have written to the Potters to relay my displeasure at the situation.  We shan’t have our Regina harassed in such a manner her seventh year.”  She looked over at Regina and smiled.  “But I’ve interrupted.  Continue, continue!”  She waved her hand at them dramatically before leaving, conspicuously leaving the door propped open.

Regina was desperately trying to hold in her laughter.

“You have a zealous chaperone,” Severus observed sardonically.

Sobbing, Regina placed her face in her hands and her shoulders shook with laughter.  When she had finally calmed down, she asked, “Do you think I should write Potter and explain?”

“Merlin, no!” Severus exclaimed.  “Let him read about it in The Prophet and let him come begging to you.  Mark me, he will come begging.”

“Well, since we’re allowed to discuss politics, Black always said his family was dark.”

“Did he?  Well, his little brother is being courted.”

“Bellatrix is a Black.”

Severus eyed her.  “You should take that up with her.”

“I suppose I should,” she agreed.  “It’s been two days.”

“You can’t learn everything there is to know about your family in two days,” Severus agreed.  “It will probably take you at least two years.”

Regina’s shoulders slumped.  “You’re probably right.”

“There’s nothing wrong with favoring pureblood rights,” Severus told her carefully.  “You’re a pureblood now.  Pureblood rights favor you now.”

She looked at him sharply.

“You hadn’t considered that, had you?”

No, no, she hadn’t.  She would have to think on that.  James Potter wouldn’t like it—but Potter was a pureblood.  And when did she care what James Potter would like or wouldn’t?

III.

Lucius was a patient man and he could wait all summer for Regina Lestrange.  He was sending her daily bouquets of flowers and long letters twice a week that he knew from Rabastan she was receiving.  Bellatrix just wasn’t allowing her to write back.  She wanted to give the young, untested Regina time.  Lucius could certainly understand.  He just didn’t have to like it.

Regina was walking down Diagon Alley with his niece, Lux Kingsley, who was a preapproved companion.  She was resplendent in cream colored robes, her long auburn hair contained in a long braid over one shoulder.  He casually came up to the ladies and bowed. 

“Lux, dear, how lovely to see you!” he leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks.  She looked up at him mischievously.  This rendez-vous had been prearranged.  “Miss Lestrange, a pleasure as always.  How do you find your new home?”

“Bellatrix is a dragon guarding her gold,” she answered with a small smile on her face, “but I’m sure you are aware of that by now.  I must thank you for your flowers and the letters.”

“It has been my pleasure.”  He bowed to her.  “But come, it is a fine day.  Shall we walk together?”

Regina looked over at Lux, clearly suspecting.  “I would not object.”

“Excellent!”  He purposefully came between them and offered them each an arm.  Lux laughed a little and gladly took his arm while Regina looked up at him a little startled before winding her hand through the crook of his elbow.

Lucius had already spoken to his father.  He had broken it off with Narcissa.  Rodolphus was already won and while Bellatrix was a battleaxe, she would come around.  They were, after all, the Dark Lord’s favorite Death Eaters.  Judging by the blush on Regina’s cheeks, she was not unaffected by him.  The battle was well and truly nearly won.

The End.