58

Thankfully, most Muggle speed limits seemed to have been ignored, and they were back at the manor in no time. She roused him gently as the car came to a stop at the foot of the steps.

"I'm afraid I can't carry you up the stairs." She told him with a warm smile.

"I'd be worried if you could."

Once they were out and his arm was resting around her shoulders, she handed back his cane.

"I think you need this more than I do." He nodded appreciatively, leaning on the cane for extra support as he walked.

"It's good to be home." He sighed as he walked through the door. "I know it sounds prosaic, but it's true."

"Well, I hate to spoil the party, but it's bath, food and then bed for you." She laughed, helping him slowly up the stairs.

"How about we skip straight to the last?" he asked hopefully, a smirk on his face, as they walked into the master bedroom.

"The last time I checked," she replied with a similar smirk, "I wasn't conducive to a good night's sleep either!" she disappeared into the wardrobe and appeared moments later in her favourite baggy jeans and a loose green top. "Wait a second, I'll be right back." She disappeared out the door and he heard her practically run down the stairs.

Kathryn's heart was light as air as she hurried downstairs to fetch the potion he had used to revive her just weeks before. It felt so wonderful to have him back, even though it was only for one night. The fact that she now had to tell the Wizengamot what had happened before a crowd of eager spectators didn't bother her a bit, she was so happy. She set the house elves making a light meal before heading back towards the stairs, only to be stopped by a knock on the door. Cautiously, she stowed the vial in her pocket and drew her wand. Expecting anything, she opened the door a crack only to catch sight of a familiar mane of tawny hair streaked with grey.

"Scrimgeour. Dawlish." She greeted them coldly, standing firmly in the doorway, keeping her wand in plain sight. "My two favourite people." She gave them a dry smile. "What might I do for you?"

"We're here at the request of Minister Fudge." Scrimgeour informed her curtly. "Where is Malfoy?"

"Not here." She replied disinterestedly, deciding that she would have some fun with the pair of them.

"Not here!" Scrimgeour shouted. "What do you mean 'not here'? Where is he?"

"The Malfoy I know is still detained in Azkaban, if I am correct. Now, Mr Malfoy is upstairs and is not going to be disturbed, save by me." Scrimgeour and Dawlish did not meet her eyes for several moments after she said this, only looking up when she spoke again. "Now, what might it be that Fudge wants?"

"Minister Fudge has requested that we remain here to prevent any escape attempt by Malfoy." Scrimgeour told her in a businesslike manner.

"Fine." She shrugged; turning and walking away. "Close the door after you."

Once inside, Scrimgeour and Dawlish headed up the stairs after her, barely noticing the spectacular architecture that most usually goggled at. Something about the crests carved into the imposing double doors told them that this was the room they were looking for and, without even knocking, they barged in. The pair of them were standing before the fireplace; Malfoy with his shirt open, cradling Kathryn to his chest.

"What's this?" he asked in her ear.

"They're from Fudge." She murmured back. "I'll take care of them." Lucius nodded and, without so much as looking at Scrimgeour and Dawlish, he walked off towards the bathroom.

"What can I do-" Kathryn began, trying her best to remain civil until she caught sight of Dawlish following Lucius. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" she roared, blasting Dawlish off his feet with a wave of her wand.

"We are here to make sure he does not escape." Scrimgeour repeated in a calm voice.

"That may be so but that is going too far!" she shouted back, keeping her wand on the pair of them. "Where do you think he is going to go?" she asked, not changing her tone.

"He is a dangerous criminal." Scrimgeour reasoned. "He cannot be left alone."

"So I no longer count as a person anymore, do I?" she asked, Scrimgeour's comments enraging her even more. "He is not dangerous here you morons!" she yelled.

"We have a duty," Scrimgeour began again, trying to calm her down.

"Sod your duty, I frankly don't give a damn!" she screamed; her anger making the windows rattle as her magic gradually spiralled out of control. "Now get out! OUT!" Dawlish and Scrimgeour seemed to have got the message as they scurried out, being pushed slightly by her magic. Taking a deep, relaxing breath Kathryn lowered her wand and walked into the bathroom where the scent of various bubbles assaulted her senses. In the time she had spent screaming at the two Aurors he had filled the bath and was lounging in the steaming water. Like the Prefects' bathroom back at Hogwarts, the bathtub was sunk deep into the floor and took up half of the room. She assumed that it was enchanted as the floor was not deep enough to hold something of that size. Silver taps lined along the edge each produced a different type of bubbles; some sending little rainbows scudding across the surface of the water whilst others filled the air with rich aromas.

"You should really talk to someone about your rage." He commented jokily as she entered.

"It's not rage, just well founded anger." She replied with a smirk, settling herself on the cool floor near his head, rolling her jeans up and dangling her legs in the water. "And that was just going too far."

"I don't think they'll be disturbing us again."

"Fudge just can't expect me just to lie down and take everything he does." She seethed, moving to sit behind his head. "I don't have the word doormat stamped on my forehead after all." She sat there, her fingers playing in his hair; carefully undoing the tangles.

"Since when do I get this kind of treatment?" he asked curiously.

"Not often. Dunk." She ordered; pushing his head until it disappeared beneath the water. Summoning one of the many bottles lined up on the shelf, she squeezed a generous amount of the lotion into her hand and set about working it into his hair as soon as he resurfaced.

"Why not use a scouring charm?" he asked as she furiously worked the shampoo into a lather; not leaving any strand of hair untouched.

"Because, this is infinitely more relaxing," she smiled, massaging his scalp gently, "and it is also a favour that will have to be repaid later. I warn you, my hair takes a lot longer than yours!" she smirked.

"I'll bear that in mind." He murmured, never having found something so simple so relaxing before. This was quite rudely interrupted by a large amount of warm water cascading down on his head. Spluttering and wiping his eyes, he turned around to see Kathryn holding a large pewter jug and wearing a naughty smirk on her face.

"What?" she asked him innocently. "How else am I supposed to rinse that out?" he opened his mouth to reply but instead found another jug full of water being tipped over his head.

"Finished!" she announced, smiling sweetly down at him as he wiped the latest deluge of water from his eyes. With a spring in her step, she walked back across the bathroom floor and replaced the jug in its proper place.

"You could have at least warned me that was coming." He told her, floating along to follow her as she walked.

"But it isn't nearly as refreshing if you know it's coming." She giggled. "And not nearly as funny!"

"Interesting theory." He mused as she crouched down near where he was leaning against the edge of the bath. "Let's test it." Moving surprisingly fast, his arm shot out from beneath the water and yanked her towards him before she could move.

"Don't you dare!" she cried, trying to stand up and pull away. It was all to no avail, however, and she found herself tumbling headfirst into the bubbly depths of the bath. With a grin, he leisurely floated back to where he had been sitting and waited for her to emerge. Slowly, she reappeared in the deeper end of the bath; a crown of bubbles atop her head and a frown upon her face.

"Not funny." She pouted as he chuckled at her appearance. "I've lost my jeans now. Excuse me." With a deep breath, she rose out of the water slightly before plunging back down to retrieve her jeans that now lay on the marble bottom. She surfaced moments later with the piece of sodden material clutched in her hand, throwing it onto the floor where it landed with a wet slap. These were soon followed by her top, which now looked more black than green, it was so waterlogged.

"See, it is much more refreshing when you don't expect it." He commented leisurely as she floated over.

"Very funny." She replied dryly, pushing her straggly hair out of her eyes as she sat beside him. "Oh well, seeing as it's wet." She pulled the bottle of shampoo over and worked it expertly into her long hair, slapping his wrists away as he tried to help. "Oh no, you're repaying that favour some other time." She smirked, sinking back beneath the water to get the suds out of her hair.

They sat next to each other in the warm water for a while longer; neither of them speaking, Kathryn leaning against his chest as his fingers stroked through her wet hair. Not really wanting to move, Kathryn reluctantly got out of the water and removed the soaking underwear she was still wearing before wrapping an enormous fluffy white towel around herself. She tossed him a similar towel as he too rose from the water before disappearing into the cavernous walk-in wardrobe.

"I'll go get some food. Proper, well cooked food; none of that foul prison gruel. " She told him, reappearing in naught but one of his black shirts and her black underwear. He raised his eyebrows sceptically at her attire.

"Are you sure that's entirely appropriate considering that we have guests?" he asked, motioning to the shirt. "Even though they are unwelcome."

"All the more reason to make them even more uncomfortable." She smirked. "Besides, they wouldn't dare touch, so you don't need to worry."

"Just try and be nice."

"Only if they are." She smiled and wandered out the door; passing a stunned Scrimgeour and a wide-eyed Dawlish as she went.

The house elves had indeed excelled themselves, and she returned upstairs with several trays laden with enough food for about five people. She let the two Aurors, sitting outside the door looking thoroughly bored, ogle at the food as she passed; they would have to fetch their own if they wanted anything. Lucius was already settled in bed, propped up with several large pillows.

"I hope you're hungry." She nodded her head at the feast that had been prepared. "I think the house elves got a little over zealous at your return."

To Lucius, food had never tasted better as he bit into a piece of succulent chicken. Kathryn sat cross legged on the bed, her plate balanced on her knee as she told him what she had been doing since they last saw each other. It appeared that she had explored every last inch of the manor and the various secret passages and rooms concealed within it. She made no mention of what she had found, save for his underground library.

"Hermione is really annoyed that I haven't let her look at any." She giggled. "But I don't know the enchantments on them, if there are any; and I don't want her getting hurt, least of all by a book."

"The ones on the normal shelves are safe; the ones in the cabinets with the glass doors are the ones to watch." He told her between mouthfuls.

"I'll tell her that in a few weeks." Kathryn mused, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork. "Once she's read everything in the main library."

"Well, that's all well and good, but what about you?" he pushed, noticing how she had been avoiding talking about herself.

"I'm fine." She told him, not entirely true. "I've stopped reading the editorials in the Prophet, doubled the monthly contribution that you make to St Mungo's and had to suffer the indignity of having Snape trying it on with me." She said casually, waiting to see his reaction.

"He told me about that."

"What!" she exclaimed, slamming her fork down. "He told you!"

"It appears that your brother wanted to know just exactly how loyal you were to me."

"He could have just asked." She spat, amazed at the fact that Harry could have done that.

"It appears that he was afraid to do so."

"I'll kill him when he comes over." She seethed, stabbing violently at the remaining piece of chicken on her plate.

"I wouldn't be so hasty," he warned, "he only cares. And, to be fair, I wanted to know the same thing." He admitted sheepishly.

"You doubted me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Not for a moment. I merely wanted to know if you were prepared for the accusations and questions that are to come."

"Well, you picked the right person to start accusing and insulting me." She commented.

"So the next time you see him, you probably shouldn't hex him."

"And to think I was looking forward to that." She sighed.

"He showed me what you did, using Legilimency." He explained. "And he apologises for treating you in such a horrible way."

"I knew he wouldn't have done such a thing willingly!" she smiled, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "He has shown enough contempt for me in the past to be incapable of such a thing."

"Do not take him at face value," Lucius warned her, "I have known him much longer than most and he has a healthy respect for you, your brother and your friends." Kathryn's jaw dropped. "Although, in his words, he does not want to further inflate your heads by showering you with praise."

"Well, I'll believe that when he takes back what he said to Hermione about her teeth. I expect Draco wrote gleefully home to you about that one."

"As a matter of fact, he did," Lucius mused, "I believe that I wrote back telling him to grow up. I think I also said that if he wasn't prepared to use stronger curses, he would be a mockery of a Death Eater when his time came. It looks as if I was right."

"That's practically a Trelawny prediction!" Kathryn laughed, surprised that he had been so candid about his son.

They sat there talking for a little longer, until Kathryn noticed his eyes beginning to droop. In a manner not dissimilar to that of Madam Pomfrey; she removed the pillows from behind his head and straightened the bedspread.

"Rest." She murmured in his ear. "You're going to need it." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and slid off the bed. Crossing to the wardrobe, she pulled on a pair of her own loose pyjama bottoms. With a wave of her wand, she stacked the cleared plates on one of the trays and headed out the door with them floating along behind her. Scrimgeour and Dawlish were still in the chairs outside the doors looking bored, although Scrimgeour sprang up as son as the door opened.

"If you need anything to eat, you could ask the elves in the kitchen." She offered. "But be quiet, he's asleep."

"And what exactly are you going to do?" Scrimgeour asked. He noticed that, despite being back home and having apparently taken a bath and changed into her pyjamas, she was still wearing the necklace of diamonds she had been around her neck that morning. It was an odd image to look at. Tanned arms poked out of rolled up sleeves. Black hair cascaded down her back in impossibly long waves. The open shirt created a deep, plunging V-neckline that Scrimgeour noticed Dawlish unable to tear his eyes off.

"None of your business." Her voice startled him out of his thoughts and she wandered off.

"Dawlish, close your mouth." Scrimgeour ordered the Auror who was still staring after her.

The house elves thanked her profusely when she returned the plates, insisting that she needn't have troubled herself. She shook off their comments and headed through to the opposite wing of the house; opening the concealed chamber in the wall and replacing the tiny crystal vial in its holder. She would have to ask Professor Snape to brew some more if Lucius was going to be in and out of Azkaban like this. Knowing Snape, however, he would probably refuse and she would have to either beg or do it herself.

The manor was infuriatingly quiet. For the past few weeks, it had been fairly busy; with Harry, Ron and Hermione visiting most days. She was very tempted to owl the Prophet and arrange an exclusive interview. It had become boring just to sit around all day waiting; she was sick of playing nice with Fudge and just accepting the slander that they printed in the newspapers. She could take satisfaction in the fact that tomorrow they would all be changing their tune over what she had done. The problem still remained, however, that she could not see any way for Lucius to escape with less than a life sentence. Annoyed, she grabbed a handful of green Floo powder from a silver box above the fireplace and tossed it in the flames.

"Number twelve Grimmauld Place." She said, sticking her head right into the emerald flames. She closed her eyes as her head spun, her body remaining firmly on the floor in the drawing room; she had never enjoyed travelling by Floo.

"Anyone there?" she shouted out as her head stopped spinning in the kitchen hearth of Grimmauld Place. A figure in black robes and with greasy black hair rose and walked over to the fire.

"Who wants to know?" Snape's face became level with her own.

"What are you doing here?" she retorted instantly

"We were just discussing your rather interesting testimony, actually." Snape replied silkily. "Would you like me to fetch your brother?"

"Please." Snape stood and made to go upstairs. "Wait! Professor!" she cried out, wanting to speak to him alone before everyone else rushed into the kitchen.

"Yes?" Snape knelt back down before the fire.

"I wanted to say sorry for attacking you the other day." She said quickly. "Lucius explained the circumstances and I don't hold you to blame."

"Thank you. I took no pleasure in what I did." He admitted with a solemn nod. "I'll go and fetch your brother." Without another word, he swept from the room.

It was not long before she heard voices approaching and the sounds of feet rushing down the stairs. Harry practically fell down in front of the fire, tripping over Crookshanks who was quite delighted at all the excitement.

"Are you alright?" he panted. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. What gave you that idea?" she asked curiously. "I just wanted to talk."

"Well, you haven't been in contact with any of us since you've been living there. We've always come to you." Harry admitted.

"I assumed that people didn't want to talk to me."

"Oh no dear!" Mrs Weasley gushed, falling to the floor next to Harry. "We were just shocked, that's all. It's been a little hard to accept and, oh, what you showed us today. If you weren't in the fire I'd hug you."

"Thanks." She blushed; Mrs Weasley was the only person that hugged her like a mother. True, her foster parents had been kind and loving, but she had always felt a little out of place.

"So where did you go?" Ron asked, squashing in with Hermione, Harry and Sirius. "When you went into the lifts at the Ministry?"

"I went for a little chat with Fudge." She explained. "To remind him of the deal we had."

"You mean his safety for your silence until the trial?" Hermione remembered.

"Yes. He's even thinner." Hermione gasped.

"That's horrible. I never thought I'd be asking this of such an awful man, but is he alright?"

"Yeah. The only problem is I've got Scrimgeour and Dawlish over for the night to play guard." She groaned. "I'm half tempted just to sell my story to the Prophet and be done, if he's going to keep on reneging on his promises. Oh, and you would probably do well to arrive earlier tomorrow." She told them.

"Why would that be?" Sirius asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Because I've let the Prophet know that the trial is open for all to attend from tomorrow." She said casually.

"You've what?" Harry exclaimed. "What possessed you to do that?"

"I'm not having him twisting the facts and I'm sick of being slandered in the Prophet every day." She explained. "With that kind of, erm, audience Fudge cannot hope to twist the facts."

"Are you sure you want to put yourself through this?" Hermione asked her seriously.

"Well, I don't have much choice now, do I?"

"What we mean is are you ready to tell everyone what happened?" Sirius redefined the question.

"I think my 'little stunt at Gringotts', as the Prophet called it, proved that enough." She retorted. "Anyway, you can come over later if you like. I don't want to be cooped up here with only Scrimgeour and Dawlish for company." She groaned.

"Sure." Harry nodded, wanting to get back onto even footing with his sister after their previous argument. "We could come over for dinner if you like."

"Great. Would you mind if I had a private word with Professor Snape?" she asked, ignoring their puzzled looks. "Don't worry; Lucius just asked me to pass on a message." She lied skilfully, avoiding her former Professor's eyes.

"OK then, see you later." Harry nodded. She bade goodbye to everybody in the kitchen before they filed out, leaving Snape alone with her.

"What does Lucius want?" Snape asked curtly, settling himself on the floor in front of the fire.

"I wasn't exactly truthful when I said Lucius wanted something." She admitted, biting her bottom lip.

"Then what might it be, Miss Potter, that you want?" Snape's lips curled into a smirk.

"You brewed a potion." She began before Snape interrupted.

"I have brewed many potions, Miss Potter, be specific."

"Lucius gave it to me after my exposure to the Dementors and I gave him some this afternoon. It counters their effects." She explained. "Is that specific enough for you, Professor?" she could not resist putting the same amount of sarcasm into her voice as he did.

"Yes, I know which one you mean." He snapped. "What do you want?"

"If this is how Fudge is going to play it," she said, referring to Fudge's mistreatment of Lucius, "I am going to need a larger supply of that potion."

"I am not at your every beck and call just because I am Lucius' friend, Miss Potter." He reminded her in his usual caustic manner.

"I did not ask you to brew it," she shot back, "although it would be helpful, you may simply provide me with instructions and I will do it myself." Snape took a deep breath and remembered his promise to Lucius.

"No, I will brew it." He conceded. "You may help me if you wish; you do have a Potions NEWT after all."

"Thank you, Professor." She made sure her look was sincere. "I will pay for all the ingredients needed." She went on. "I can imagine that the components of such a complex potion come at a price."

"They do. I take it you still have some left."

"Yes, but there isn't much." She explained. "I assume that the manor was one of the first stops for any Death Eaters who escaped Azkaban."

"Indeed it was, after returning to their Master first." Snape nodded. "The potion takes six weeks to brew and needs to be kept under very controlled conditions." He explained. "Conditions it is very difficult to maintain in Hogwarts."

"You can use the manor if you like," Kathryn offered; picking up on the hint, "there is no one here but me to disturb it and I can keep check on it."

"Fine. I assume that Saturday will be convenient?"

"Yes. It's not like I've got anywhere to go." Kathryn couldn't believe that Snape had agreed to this.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with Dumbledore." Snape stood and looked down on her once more. "Good day, Miss Potter."

"Thank you. Say hello to Professor Dumbledore for me." She withdrew her head from the fire and, with a dizzying spinning sensation; she was back on the thick Persian rug before the fire.

"Oh well, back to the gruesome twosome." She sighed to herself. The presence of Scrimgeour and Dawlish had completely ruined her afternoon. She obtained a steaming mug of tea from the house elves and stormed back upstairs; making sure to give the pair of Aurors one of her filthiest looks whilst being careful not to slam the door behind her. Lucius was still sleeping soundly and, careful not to wake him, she headed through to the wardrobe and began the task of deciding what to wear tomorrow. Normally, she wouldn't have given it much thought, but the fact that she was under scrutiny made her think a little more.

She had to look smart, that was a given, but she couldn't appear to be too extravagantly dressed. Unfortunately, most of the clothes that she owned that were suitable for such an occasion were either too ornate or showed off too much flesh for a serious event. She couldn't wear the same thing twice as, looking at the Evening Prophet; they were keeping a close watch in her, including an in-depth analysis of what she wore. Today's outfit had garnered a favourable review, being apparently stylish and sophisticated. Unable to decide, she deserted the wardrobe and promised herself that she would look later. Unsure of what to do, she settled herself next to Lucius on the mattress and stared up at the emerald green hangings above her.