64

Wednesday arrived nothing like the day that had preceded it. Rain lashed the windows of the manor as she woke up and did not stop as she showered, dressed and ate her breakfast. Thunder rumbled in the distance as she dashed out to the waiting car; dressed in a smart black suit and wrapped in a cloak to protect from the howling wind.

"Bizarre summer weather." She muttered as she sank down into her seat and the car rolled off. Considering that she did not have Lucius to distract her as she had done that past two times, she had brought the morning edition of the Prophet with her to see what Rita Skeeter had written about her after yesterday's revelations. There was, however, no story of what had happened; not a word of what she had said was in print. Instead, an image of her kissing Lucius in the foyer holding an enormous bouquet of roses graced the front pages. The headline read 'MACABRE ANNIVERSARY' in bold, black print and underneath was an explanation that it had been some kind of anniversary of their 'meeting' but did not elucidate the subject. Underneath this was written, again in bold lettering; 'TOMORROW, AN EXCLUSIVE REPORT FROM RITA SKEETER ON THE TESTIMONY OF KATHRYN POTTER'. Apparently, Skeeter was going to reserve judgement on her until she had finished telling her story; an unusually thoughtful move on her part.

"How unusual it is for her to stay silent on such a scandalous issue." She said to herself as they turned onto the Muggle motorway. She barely noticed the rest of the journey; spending her time flicking through the Prophet looking for anything else of interest. Draco Malfoy's trial was due to start next week.

That would prove interesting; in fact, she would be happy to attend as she had a great desire to see her former classmate finally get his due. She could also give evidence against him, as he had tried to use an Unforgivable curse upon her. She had wished to see Bellatrix Lestrange receive fitting punishment for those she had killed, including her foster parents. Lucius had even told her that Bellatrix had been boasting about it for weeks afterwards; that she had even considered sending a bunch of flowers just to mock her loss. Perhaps her death had been sufficient.

She was more concerned, however, about Draco's trial as the outcome could put her at considerable risk. She would be safe if the Wizengamot ruled in, what was technically, her favour. If not, then she would fight tooth and nail before he could come back to Malfoy Manor while she was still there.

She barely noticed the time pass as she thought over these matters, not wanting to consider the possible consequences, and before she knew where they were, they were pulling into the dingy alleyway once more. She exited the car with a sigh, wishing she didn't have to do this, and announced herself in the telephone box. After a few seconds, a badge rattled out and the lift began to descend. She walked briskly across the atrium, setting the badge on the desk as she had done for the past two days, and heading straight for the stairs. Flashbulbs went off in her face but she was past the point of caring. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sirius and the rest of the Order were already waiting outside the courtroom doors.

"You look exhausted." Sirius commented as she stood with them.

"I didn't sleep well." She explained, for, although she had fallen asleep instantly, her sleep had been fitful and plagued by disturbing dreams. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, she leant against Sirius for a while, closing her eyes and trying to sort out what she was going to say. "I'm just so tired." She said sadly. In the quiet, a flashbulb popped and startled them all.

"Get out of it!" Moody growled at the photographer, advancing fiercely upon him and prompting the small, weedy man to scarper back up the stairs. Somewhere, a clock struck eleven and the doors opened. People at once began to file in, as did the Weasleys and the rest of the Order.

"Are you coming?" Harry asked, noticing, for the first time, that she was wearing the ring she had found the night before.

"No," she replied in a distracted voice, her eyes scanning the corridor, "I have to wait…" her voice tailed off but Harry understood.

"Don't take any crap from Scrimgeour." He said with a smile before disappearing through the doors. She heard the Wizengamot enter the courtroom through the closed doors and, almost immediately after that, a group of people appeared through a concealed door at the end of the corridor. She saw a blond head snap to attention as soon as it saw her and she had to fight the urge to fling herself into his arms as they walked closer.

"Out of my way Miss Potter." Scrimgeour ordered as they approached.

"Oh shut up Scrimgeour." She said derisively, pushing past him and stopping before Lucius.

"By the look on your face, I'd say you found my surprise." Lucius said with a raised eyebrow. He took her right hand and looked at the circle of diamonds that surrounded her ring finger. "Perfect," he told her, "just how I thought it'd look."

"And the other things," she added, "I found those too. You know that you shouldn't have."

"But you like them?"

"Of course, they're all beautiful."

"You look tired."

"I didn't sleep well. You know, bad dreams, empty bed. " She explained, having noticed that, when she was worried, she slept better when he was there. "I'm just very tired."

"I'd gathered." He said. "You're pushing yourself too hard."

"But I have to fight." She sighed. He was amazed at how fragile she looked. It was as if the enormity of everything had hit her overnight and had had an immediate effect. Not saying anything, he pulled her close and held her there, not caring that the doors opened and a thousand pairs of eyes were watching them.

"Time to go." He whispered in her ear as she clung onto him.

"I know." As she looked at him, her face immediately changed from its melancholy expression to one of complete seriousness. "So lets go." Preceded by his guard of Aurors, they strode into the courtroom as if no one had seen their exchange moments before.

Harry and everyone else had all seen Lucius Malfoy enter a room many times before and, he had to admit, that it was perfectly imposing; letting people know how much power he had. He had certainly been better at it than is son, who just ended up looking stupid. They had also seen the way his sister entered a room the day before. She could silence a room with a look and knew how to enthral onlookers. This, however, this was unlike anything they had ever seen. Harry realised that he had never seen them enter a room together, at least, not when he knew what was going on between them. Other people who were looking on had seen him make his entrance with his wife before she had died, Narcissa entering slightly behind him; just like the devoted, supportive, perfect Pureblood wife she was supposed to be. What they witnessed today was completely different.

They entered side by side, instead of one behind the other. Their strides were purposeful and commanding; making sure that everyone knew that they were not to be messed with. Harry thought he was witnessing the debut of the ultimate power couple, despite the fact that their relationship was nothing official. Their posture was flawless and they seemed to walk in time with each other. He was sure that if they had entered any room like this, no matter how crowded or noisy it was, they would have silenced them and the crowd would have parted to let them through. The only thing that was out of place was that the serpent-topped cane was in her hands, not his. They were even dressed alike, however accidentally. He had dressed like that because they were the only clothes he had at his disposal. She had dressed like that due to the weather.

Like yesterday, she was wearing a suit, only this time it was black with a white shirt. The waistcoat was, again, tightly fitted and emphasised her slender figure. The shirt was also open, following the line of the waistcoat, and extending as far to offer a brief glimpse of the black silk of her underwear. A necklace of oversized chunks of obsidian, linked by small diamonds, sat around her neck; another of her birthday gifts she had unwrapped the previous evening.

They separated once they reached the top of the courtroom; she walking up the stairs to where she was going to give her account, he to the chair to which he would again be chained. Looking right at her, Harry could see none of the fragility he had observed earlier when she had arrived. Her face was now an impenetrable mask, giving nothing away and allowing nothing to affect it.

"Now, Miss Potter," Fudge resumed where they had left off the day before, "I believe that you were just going to elaborate on how things changed when you visited Malfoy Manor last summer. Please continue." Fudge seemed to have learned that he would get the best answers when he was polite.

"As you wish." She sighed. "I returned to Malfoy Manor last summer, exactly a year after my first visit there." She explained. "When I was with Mr Malfoy that evening, he said that he was asking me for information one final time, implying that he was giving up. He also gave me a birthday gift, a set of jewellery made from emeralds the same colour as my eyes. I did not know this then, but he had bought the stones rough and had commissioned the jewellery himself. Although I did not know this at the time, to me, it speaks of a higher regard for someone as opposed to seeing them as something you can use and abuse."

"Indeed, was there anything else?" the wizard that had been questioning her the previous day continued from where he had left off.

"Well, later on that night, and by later I mean about three in the morning," she continued, "I'd just been in the shower and I started thinking."

"What were your thoughts?" Lucius was very interested to hear this as he did not know what had sparked the reversal in their relationship.

"I realised that I didn't hate him for what he'd done." She confessed. "And I didn't hate myself for what I hid anymore."

"So what did you feel instead?"

"Well, pretty much up until then I had hated enjoying what happened between us, but something had changed along the way." She didn't know really how to put this into words. "I enjoyed it." She blurted out. "I enjoyed having something that no one knew about."

"What did you do?" he asked. "What did you do that made you realise that?"

"I kissed him." she shrugged.

"That is not so fantastic." He sounded distinctly unimpressed. "I am quite sure that, judging by your previous account."

"I'd never kissed him properly." She corrected him. "He had never, ever kissed me. I think because it was too personal. So long as he didn't kiss me properly, it didn't matter what he did, it was all impersonal."

"So why did you do it?" he asked probingly. "If it made it personal?"

"I wanted to." She said, her eyes gleaming. "And doing it wasn't so bad."

"Why?"

"Ever since that moment, and I mean that very moment," she hoped that she had implied what he had done after she had kissed him, "I have been someone to pleasure. I have been someone with whom he can forget the rest of the world."

"Surely you knew the consequences of this if you were ever discovered?"

"Of course, but I was too far into this anyway to escape unharmed. I made the choice to do this, it was not forced upon me; I chose to accept the consequences of my actions."

"What did you do after this?"

"I stayed at Malfoy Manor for the next week, interrupted briefly by a visit from Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, and then I went home."

"You saw nothing of Mrs Malfoy or her son during your stay?"

"No, like last time they were gone." The wizard questioning nodded and passed on to another of his colleagues. This time it was a plump, auburn haired woman with thick rimmed glasses who questioned her.

"Now, Miss Potter," she had a Yorkshire accent and was wearing several gold rings on her podgy fingers, "after this encounter, when did you see Mr Malfoy next?"

"Like the year before, I saw him first at the opening match of the Quidditch season; Gryffindor versus Slytherin."

"And was this the same as last time?" she queried. "Meeting after dark for a few hours?"

"Oh no," Kathryn smirked, "we went no further than the Quidditch stadium." There were quite a few gasps at what she implied by this and Lucius could not help but smirk as he remembered it.

"A very risky move." She commented. "More chance of discovery."

"Well, for the first time, I didn't actually care." She admitted.

"But nothing remarkable happened on that occasion. You were no longer forced." She clarified.

"Yes."

"So, the next time you saw Mr Malfoy, was it the second Quidditch match of the season like the year before?"

"No, the next Slytherin fixtures were not until the New Year. Our next meeting was on the first Hogsmeade visit."

"Now, in your memories, we saw you bump into him. Could you please explain that?"

"Well, he was there with Professor Snape so I couldn't just go up and talk to him and he could not approach me either." She recounted. "I went to take our empty bottles back to the bar just as they left and he bumped into me purposefully. I dropped the bottles, as I was carrying about eight, but when I went to pick them up, there was a piece of parchment there too."

"A note I assume?"

"Yes."

"What did it say?"

"It just said fifteen minutes." She shrugged. "Nothing scandalous."

"But you understood the meaning?"

"It had 'fifteen minutes' written on it." She replied in an acerbic tone. "It meant that I was to meet him in fifteen minutes in the hills outside Hogsmeade. I would usually meet him in the hills around the village as not many students ventured there in cold weather."

"And did that go smoothly." Kathryn wasn't sure why she asked this as she knew that answer was the contrary.

"No," she sighed, "and I don't know why you bother to ask when you already know the answer, but I shall humour you. The meeting did not go smoothly, we were nearly discovered."

"By whom."

"By his son." She said through gritted teeth. "And his friends."

"Were you not put off due to the risk?"

"As I said before, I didn't really care." She did not know whether they just asked her the same thing, in different ways, to try and catch her out or just to annoy her, but it was definitely doing the latter.

"And am I right to assume that nothing remarkable happened then?"

"Well, I did suggest that he should send his wife on safari as a Christmas present so we could get some guaranteed time alone. Of course, I did not see the effect of that suggestion until the New Year."

"So, the next time you saw Mr Malfoy was at Minister Fudge's Christmas reception on Boxing Day?"

"Yes. I came alone and Mr Malfoy was accompanied by his wife." She explained.

"So this was the first time you had seen his wife since this all began?" She asked inquisitively.

"Yes." Kathryn nodded, remembering what Narcissa Malfoy had said about her that night. "It was."

"How did you feel?" she asked. "Now that you were more Mr Malfoy's lover, his mistress if you will."

"I was nearly sick." She admitted, hoping that her face did not betray any emotion. "I was confronted by the fact that she was real and was not merely something intangible or something that only existed in the back of my mind. All I knew, when I saw her, was that I was standing in a room full of the wealthiest, most influential people in the wizarding world and I was wearing a dress and jewels that he had bought for me whilst his wife stood not twenty metres away."

"Did you speak to her?"

"Yes. Minister Fudge introduced us after he found me sitting by myself."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing remarkable," Kathryn shrugged, "she didn't honestly seem at all interested in me."

"So what do you think, personally, that she felt?"

"I don't need to speculate on what she thought, I know because I eavesdropped." She said with a smirk.

"You did this willingly?" the witch obviously thought this very rude.

"It is a by-product of constantly living with spies; you learn how to listen in on conversations without feeling guilty."

"So what did you learn?"

"She wasn't impressed." Kathryn said, remembering what she had heard. "She thought that I was outclassed and was pretending to be a Pureblood because of the way I was dressed. Of course, she didn't know that her husband had provided me with most of my outfit."

"What did Mr Malfoy say?" she questioned. "Considering the abuse that was being levelled at his lover?"

"He defended me, quite surprisingly." She explained. "I had not expected him to, but he did none the less. He opposed her when she said that I was not much of a beauty and when she criticised my clothes. He even told her that he considered my appearance elegant."

"How did the late Mrs Malfoy react?"

"She was utterly appalled by such opinions and was quite worried that someone was going to hear what he said."

"How did his defence make you feel?"

"Well, it did tell me something of his regard for me. It was, to be honest, quite nice."

"What did you think of her?" she asked curiously. "Seeing as she was, technically, your rival."

"I never saw Narcissa Malfoy as my rival." Kathryn shook her head. "Rivals generally know about each other. Besides, her even contemplating that such a thing was going on was out of the question as she was so certain that her husband would not stoop as low as to sleep with a Half-Blood such as myself."

"Yes, but what did you think of her?" she pressed the original question.

"Well, I thought that she was pretty although the look she had on her face when she looked at me rather spoiled that."

"Anything more?"

"She had a very high opinion of herself, but fine, that was how she was brought up. I assume that, in life, she was expected to make the best marriage she could instead of pursuing a career. In all honesty, I find it rather sad that some girls my age grew up knowing that all they could hope for in life was to be traded like I piece of meat. Of course, if they found love good for them; but I can imagine a great many others remaining unhappy."

"I understand that you and the late Mrs Malfoy were featured in the style section of the Daily Prophet the day after."

"Yes," Kathryn explained, "I believe the Prophet considered us the style successes of the evening and decided to give us our own space."

"They did make one interesting observation, didn't they?"

"Yes," she sighed, "the writer said that they doubted that the same person had picked our clothes despite how we both understood the simple rules of dressing well."

"Was the writer wrong?"

"I suppose so," she shrugged, not really seeing how this was important, "I would assume that Mrs Malfoy's dress and jewels, well, her entire outfit had been paid for by her husband."

"And what about yours?"

"My dress and jewellery had also arrived courtesy of Lucius Malfoy, yes." She hesitated before saying what she did next. "But, I have always had the nagging feeling that mine actually cost more than hers. I have never asked though."

"Mr Malfoy," Lucius was addressed for the first time since he had pleaded not guilty on the first day, "could you please be so kind as to tell us whose outfit cost more; you late wife's or Miss Potter's?"

"Well," Kathryn could tell that he was going to draw this out, "my wife's dress was the only expense for that occasion as she already owned the jewellery etcetera. That came to three hundred Galleons."

"And Miss Potter?"

"Miss Potter's dress cost me in excess of a thousand Galleons as it was handmade in Milan. If you take into account the jewellery, which was a commissioned piece and not a family heirloom like my wife's, you are looking at a cost of over six million Galleons." The entire courtroom let out a collective gasp.

"Taking the phrase 'you look a million Galleons' to a new level." The witch commented. "Just a query, Mr Malfoy, did your wife not notice the absence of such large sums of money from your accounts?"

"Narcissa was not raised to pry into her husbands affairs, nor to concern herself with financial matters. So long as I could put food on the table and jewels around her neck she did not question where money was going."

"I suppose that was useful." She commented before passing the baton to another of her colleagues.

"Miss Potter," the wizard that addressed her had thin, wire framed spectacles and a shock of white hair, "you seem to have some very fixed views on the Pureblood community. Why is that?"

"Well, I generally find their views offensive, especially towards my friends." She explained.

"So why, pray tell, did you choose to have a relationship with the most prominent Pureblood of all?"

"First of all," she replied in a tone that suggested that she was already annoyed with him, "I did not choose to have a relationship with Lucius Malfoy." She laid heavy emphasis on the word 'choose'. "Last time I checked, I did not choose to be raped." Her voice had taken on that dangerous tone again.

"Well, let's return to the original question." He seemed to understand that it was unwise to provoke her.

"Most of the old Pureblood families held the same beliefs on the importance of blood purity. I'm sure that everyone here knows that." She explained. "The Malfoy's were no exception, neither was the house of Black." She nodded in the direction of Sirius. "Although with a few notable exceptions."

"And what, may I ask, is your point?"

"I have had plenty of time to kill since Minister Fudge decided that I was to be placed under house arrest, although I am still in the dark as to what my crime was." She told him. "Harry and I never knew anything of our father's family so I decided to have a look into it in my copious amounts of spare time."

"And what did you find?" Harry was also interested to hear this as she hadn't even told him.

"Harry and I are not Pureblood," she had to resist the temptation to smirk as she knew that she had the whole room on tenterhooks, "but we are as good as. We are descended from a very ancient pureblood line, heading further back than you could imagine, with close links to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. Our father was in fact a distant cousin of our Godfather, Sirius Black."

"Any more revelations?" he seemed thoroughly bored.

"Well, that ancient pureblood line is that of the Peverell family." She added with a shrug. There was some whispering, not everyone in the courtroom knowing the full story around the Peverell brothers. "Just thought you might be interested. Not that we set stock by bloodlines." There was muted whispering around the room whilst everyone waited for a response.