Evening fell over London… Though, in all fairness, it had fallen over the entirety of England. The sky had cleared of clouds, ready to delight astronomy enthusiasts with its crystalline clarity.
Peace and quiet reigned in the Malfoy manor. Only in a small sitting room, illuminated by just a couple of lamps, did the master of the house sit in the company of two guests. They sat in armchairs around a low table, sipping Firewhisky, while the shadows cast by the fireplace flames danced in intricate patterns across the walls.
"Well then?" Smethwyck asked, settling more comfortably into his armchair. He looked at his companions with an expectant smile, a glass of Firewhisky in hand. "What's the occasion for this gathering? Had I been a little later, you two would already be drunk."
"We aren't young anymore, Hippocrates," Benjamin smirked in reply. "We know our limits."
"Yeah, but we don't observe them," Smethwyck nodded.
"As for the answer to your question—ask Lucius."
"Lucius?"
"Nothing overly special, really," the latter shrugged, taking a small sip. "Except for the fact that a certain Muggle-born Hogwarts student you know managed to pull off a little social intrigue with extremely interesting and far-reaching consequences."
"Are you talking about Umbridge's trial?" Smethwyck asked, surprised.
"Exactly, old friend."
"Are you saying Granger orchestrated that?"
"It wouldn't be entirely accurate to say that," Benjamin corrected him. Like Malfoy, he took a sip of his Firewhisky, letting out a customary exhale. "Not single-handedly."
"Meaning?"
"Let's put it this way," Malfoy took over. "If it weren't for him, things at the school would have gone the same as always. The 'Puffs would have kept their heads down and stayed out of sight... Do you even know the crux of what happened?"
"Of course. The articles in all the papers provide a fairly accurate transcript of the hearing. Plus, rumors have already spread at work. How did Fudge ever allow such a scathing article by Skeeter to make it to the press?"
The question was clearly rhetorical and required no answer, so Malfoy continued his thought:
"The 'Puffs would have kept their heads down. The Ravens would have made a calculated decision and simply declared a complete disregard for the very fact of Umbridge's existence. The Gryffindors would have staged their favorite little rebellions, and our lot would have taken the most profitable side—meaning, they would have joined Umbridge."
"Well, not all of them," Smethwyck shook his head.
"Of course not all," Malfoy agreed, swirling his glass and looking at the fireplace flames through the amber liquid. "I'm talking about the general trend, not the exceptions. Granger, however, displayed... well, he displayed quite a lot."
"My daughter described his entire operation," Parkinson chimed in. "Granger would have a chat with someone here, strike a deal there. Unobtrusively sway some to his point of view, then others. He proposed a course of action to his own House. He convinced the Gryffindors not to look for trouble. Well, most of them. You know the kind of temperaments that sometimes end up in that House."
"You don't have to tell us," Malfoy and Smethwyck waved the thought away.
"As for the Slytherins, he used your son and the elder Greengrass to relay how it would be most advantageous to proceed, despite a few minor inconveniences. Talked up the prospects, all that sort of thing. All in all, a word here, an action there, a smile in one place, a push in another, and suddenly the entirety of Hogwarts is acting exactly as he needs them to. Amusing, don't you think?"
"I don't," Lucius begged to differ. "Is it possible that he was acting not so much for his own benefit, but rather pushing for the best possible outcome for everyone else?"
"The two aren't mutually exclusive," Smethwyck said, adjusting a fold of his robes over his stomach. He joined in the drinking, taking a rather large, but still reasonable, gulp.
"What worries me more is that they actually listen to him," Benjamin frowned. "Even Pansy, and she very much has a mind of her own. Now that they've seen the results of agreeing with his views and following his recommendations, the students will trust him even more."
"I told you—he's a promising lad," Smethwyck smirked. "What do you say, Luc?"
"You did. But you were talking about him as a wizard, not as... this sort of mastermind."
"Well, one doesn't preclude the other. And let's not forget that a truly powerful wizard often possesses equally formidable mental faculties."
"The intrigue itself wasn't particularly brilliant," Malfoy waved the thought away. "Umbridge provided the opportunity herself. It would have been difficult to pull off out of thin air. The real skill was in his handling of people. But what really won't give me peace is this mysterious Plague Doctor. And the whole situation with the Notts..."
"To understand who is involved," Smethwyck leaned forward, gesturing importantly with his glass, "you have to determine cui bono—who benefits? What part of the Nott situation don't you understand?"
Lucius nodded toward Parkinson, who straightened up, adopting a serious demeanor.
"Someone cursed the Nott lands far too suddenly and thoroughly," Benjamin began listing the facts. "Just as suddenly, calculatedly, and confidently, Delacour bought them. Then, out of nowhere, a specialist appears and lifts the curse. Word has it this same specialist has already done two jobs. All the threads lead back to a certain 'Plague Doctor'."
"Well there you go," Smethwyck spread his hands, leaning back in his chair. "You've just answered all your own questions."
"Care to elaborate?" Lucius looked at Hippocrates, simultaneously glancing pointedly at his glass of Firewhisky. "My brain doesn't seem to be working all that well at the moment."
"Heh, I'll elaborate. When was the first appearance of this Plague Doctor of yours?"
"Defending the Granger house."
"Let's take it as an axiom that the two are somehow connected. Now, regarding the 'sudden' cursing of the Nott lands. What are these lands, who finds them interesting, and what happened right before that?"
"Well, that's no secret," Malfoy offered a tight smile. "The lands are of interest to your dear Greengrasses, as are the production facilities on them. As for what happened before..."
"Yes, what happened before?" Smethwyck continued to smirk. "Related to the lands, of course."
"Hm... Your friends, Hippocrates," Benjamin took over, "had supposedly announced their intention to arrange a marriage between Daphne and the younger Nott. Precisely for the sake of joint production... On those very lands. Pansy outlined the matter quite clearly in her letters."
"Exactly. Honestly, gentlemen, you're taking far too long to piece this together. Clearly, you aren't powerful wizards."
"That wasn't a very thinly veiled way of calling us fools," Malfoy smiled amicably. "But you're right."
"And now—who benefits?"
"Out of everyone, only Hector Granger fits that category," Lucius summarized. "But he wasn't considered a suspect because of his background and his lack of knowledge, skills, and certainly practical experience with Dark Magic. Whoever worked that curse was at the level of a Master, and an exceptionally good one at that. I've mentioned this before."
"Yes, Luc, you did," Smethwyck nodded, taking another rather large gulp of Firewhisky. "But the connection between Granger and the Plague Doctor, if real, changes the equation significantly..."
The wizards fell silent, each lost in his own thoughts. The only sound breaking the quiet of the room was the crackling of the fire in the hearth.
"Narcissa mentioned," Lucius's quiet voice broke the silence, "that Granger is a very powerful wizard, and moreover, one who uses Dark Magic. Not overwhelmingly forceful, but extremely precise."
"What do you mean, 'not forceful'?" Hippocrates asked, staring into the fireplace flames just as Lucius was. Only Benjamin was deprived of this diversion—the positioning of his armchair didn't lend itself to such neck-craning.
"Just that. Powerful, but..." Lucius paused, searching for the right words. "Only applying exactly as much power as the desired result demands, rather than blasting half of London just to cast a Lumos."
"You know..." Smethwyck downed the rest of his Firewhisky in one gulp, causing the other two to shake their heads at such disrespectful treatment of a quality beverage. Setting his glass on the table, he continued: "Tomorrow is the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match."
"That's true," Lucius agreed, waiting to hear what Smethwyck was plotting.
"So go, watch the match, and afterwards, have a chat with Granger. Not about the Plague Doctor... just about magic in general. Parents have always been welcome to attend the games. If I recall correctly, Luc, you didn't miss a single one of Draco's matches during his second and third years."
"Indeed, why haven't we?" Benjamin perked up. "I'll have a chat with him too. My daughter has been mentioning him far too often in her letters lately. 'Hector did this, Hector said that...'"
"Maybe she's fallen in love?"
"Merlin forbid, Luc!" Benjamin threw his hands toward the ceiling. "Completely unacceptable."
"Why is that?" Malfoy smirked.
"You wouldn't understand," Parkinson waved him off. "You have a son. We have it a bit easier in that regard."
"I wouldn't say that," Lucius disagreed. "Look at Andromeda. She dug her heels in, caused a massive scandal—half the wizarding world was up in arms..."
"A very small part of it, specifically the old families," Smethwyck corrected him.
"Be that as it may. And what came of it? Nothing. She lives quietly, goes about her business, and no one really looks at her crossways. Aside from a few fanatics, of course. But try pulling a stunt like that when you're the male heir of an old Noble House."
Parkinson thought about it, shuddered, and agreed.
"So, are we going tomorrow?" Smethwyck shifted his gaze from one companion to the other.
"And where are you going?"
"Well, technically, even though the Hogwarts hospital wing operates autonomously from St. Mungo's, it is still affiliated with it to some extent. I can find an excuse—where there's a will, there's a way."
"In that case," Lucius finished his Firewhisky and set the empty glass on the low table, "we should hold off on the drinks. Severus brews an excellent hangover cure, of course, but he might refuse to hand it over purely out of spite."
The wizards wrapped up their conversation fairly quickly. Lucius saw his guests off through the Floo Network to their respective homes, then headed off to bed with a clear conscience. He still had to figure out how to approach the conversation, what to talk about, and most importantly... why? It had seemed like just a casual chat among old friends, and now he had to travel to Hogwarts first thing in the morning because they had spontaneously decided to "have a chat." Severus was right when he said that alcohol was an evil—and it only took a little bit of evil to completely derail one's own plans.
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