Chapter 3
Lucius, as promised, had had himself and Narcissa registered as Hermione’s magical guardians. Her parents had willingly signed the necessary paperwork, giving up their parental rights, and a Ministry official had obliviated them afterwards, removing all of their memories regarding the Wizarding World.
Hermione was happy at Malfoy Manor and still couldn’t believe that she would return for each school break from now on. Her Occlumency skills also improved rapidly and by her request, Narcissa had helped her with the Summoning Charm, which she had mastered quickly.
Two weeks before they were due to return to Hogwarts, the school owls delivered the list of books and other school supplies they would need for the next year while they were having breakfast in the sun room.
Lucius, who held Draco’s list, frowned at his wife. “Seven books by Gilderoy Lockhart? Have they lost their minds now?”
“Oh, Daphne lent me ‘Voyages with Vampires’. It was really good,” Hermione said happily and Draco laughed.
“Yes, and he’s so handsome! So very handsome! Did you see his eyes?” He swooned for emphasis.
“I didn’t say that,” Hermione shot back.
“No Daphne did. And you agreed.”
Narcissa smiled. “Well, he is not exactly hard on the eyes.”
Lucius shot her a betrayed look while Hermione nodded eagerly.
Draco just shook his head.
“Who needs seven Defence Against the Dark Art books for one year?” Lucius returned to the original topic. “It’s not like he’s going to stay longer than that.”
“He’s going to teach Defence?” Hermione asked, not even caring that her voice sounded more like a screech. Draco was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe and she kicked him under the table. Which didn’t help at all.
Lucius calmly took a sip of his tea, putting the list aside. “He is.”
“That’s amazing! I’m sure he’s going to be so much better than Quirrel!” Hermione was still beaming as she finished her croissant.
“Undoubtedly.” Somehow, Lucius didn’t sound convinced.
The three Malfoys and Hermione took the floo to Diagon Alley that same day and for the first time, Hermione had her own money in her bag. Like Draco, she now received a generous monthly allowance for her own use; clothes, school supplies and other necessity would be paid by her new guardians. At first, she had been a little uncomfortable as it was a lot of money, especially since Lucius and Narcissa only bought the best of the best, which she had really begun to understand when Narcissa had taken her and Draco clothes shopping the week before. She had been allowed to choose what she wanted and when Narcissa had realised that she always took the cheapest option (not that it had made much of a difference, since everything to choose from was very fine quality), she had taken her aside and assured her strongly that the price didn’t matter and both Lucius and her wanted her to get what she liked. Draco had had no such quarrels and eventually she came to terms with the fact that, with the kind of money the Malfoys obviously had, she would not make them any poorer by choosing a shirt that cost a few galleons more than the alternatives or by accepting an allowance they clearly could afford.
When they arrived at Diagon Alley, the first thing that caught her attention was a red-haired woman and man frantically asking everyone who was unlucky enough to walk by in their close proximity whether they had seen Harry Potter. Ron Weasley, his twin brothers Fred and George, and a very anxious looking girl were following them around, so they were obviously their parents.
Lucius turned to Narcissa without slowing down his steps. “So now the Weasleys have lost the Boy Who Lived. Every time I think they can’t sink any lower, they manage to surprise me.”
“Hmm … Dumbledore will be thrilled.”
“I know someone who’s really going to be thrilled,” Draco chimed in. “Severus.”
Hermione grinned. “We should send him an owl when we get home. Oh … never mind.”
That moment Hagrid came along, with Harry Potter in tow, and the Weasleys all hurried towards them. Mrs Weasley dramatically and tearfully hugged him close and Hermione could see Lucius and Narcissa exchanging a glance.
Hermione even felt a little sorry for him as she wondered, if he was able to breathe and whether the woman would ever let go of him. “He should have run when he had the chance.”
Thanks to Draco, they took forever to get their shopping done. First, he took his sweet time in Mr Mulpepper’s Apothecary, looking at the new potions equipment and the magazines he was going to buy anyway. Then they went into the Quidditch shop where he was begging his father for the new Nimbus 2001, just in case he got on the Quidditch team. “We’ll see, maybe if you actually get on the team,” Lucius finally said and they walked out with nothing but a new Seeker’s glove and sulking Draco.
Luckily, they had already bought the new school robes together with the other clothes the week before.
However, when they got to Flourish and Blott, the book shop was completely full and there was a long line of people waiting outside for … something.
“What now?” Lucius tried to glance inside when Hermione saw the board announcing that Gilderoy Lockhart was there for a book signing. “Gilderoy Lockhart is here,” she informed the others excitedly.
“Go, get your books then, have them signed, if you want. Narcissa and I will be waiting in the café over there.” He handed each of them enough money to buy their school books and led his wife away, obviously unwilling to stand in line to meet Gilderoy Lockart.
Draco wasn’t interested either, he squeezed himself past the line for the book signing and emerged about ten minutes later with his school books, albeit not signed. Grinning, he walked over to Hermione. “Have fun, Granger. I’ll be waiting with father and mother and have an ice cream.”
“Alright, see you!” She would not be swayed by ice cream.
She didn’t have to wait alone, though. Daphne and her mother came out of the Magical Menagerie and when she saw Hermione, she smiled brightly and walked over to her. When she heard what the line was about, she begged her mother to be allowed to have her books signed, too. Lady Greengrass conceded and went to sit with Lucius and Narcissa, leaving the girls to chat excitedly until it was finally their turn.
Lockhart was even more handsome in person than on the many photos in his books and he was incredibly charming. He signed their books, told them how very much he was looking forward to teaching them and even took the time to tell them a little about his latest adventures. Alright, that was probably the reason, the line moved so slowly, but it was definitely worth it. Hermione and Daphne agreed that it was very nice of him to take the time to talk to everyone. They paid for their books and went over to the café where Narcissa and Lady Greengrass were in deep conversation about an upcoming charity ball, Lucius listened expressionlessly and Draco glared at his two friends. “That took forever!”
“You’re just jealous because you didn’t wait with us. He was so nice!” Daphne gushed.
“Yes, that must be it.” He rolled his eyes.
Two days later, when Hermione entered the room where she usually received her Occlumency lessons, Lucius, Narcissa and Snape were sitting in front of the fireplace and Narcissa gestured for her to join them. She immediately knew that this was it, not a lesson, but the reason she had taken the lessons in the first place.
Lucius looked at her seriously. “You’ve made very good progress, so we decided to tell you some basic information about what really happened before and during the war. The reason why we wanted you to learn Occlumency first is your own safety. We don’t think Dumbledore will take any action for the time being, which is why we sent Draco to Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang or Beauxbatons in the first place, but we don’t trust him. He did try to search Draco’s mind during his first week at school and I assume that he was looking for how much he knows and maybe to confirm a suspicion he may have that we will not talk about yet.”
Hermione frowned. Dumbledore had used Legilimency on Draco? Why?
“So, imagine Albus Dumbledore, celebrated as a hero after defeating Gellert Grindelwald in 1945. After that, he gained a certain influence, a certain power and, of course, celebrity status. But at some point, all this faded, people didn’t really talk about him anymore, not on a daily basis, and he can’t find a real footing in the Ministry because although he can be convincing and wrap people around his little finger, most of them tend to realise when what you say is just empty talk at some point, so no one really took him seriously outside of Hogwarts, where he was at that point already headmaster. And, of course, there was his little band of followers, who thought he could do no wrong. But how was he to relive his glory days under those circumstances and maybe even become truly influential?”
“He needed to be celebrated as a hero again,” Hermione stated quietly, completely entranced.
He nodded in approval. “Exactly. But how? There was no dark wizard around. However, a few years ago, there was a boy who had graduated Hogwarts around the time Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald. A boy who had been … somewhat misguided during his time at school and shortly after, which was partly due to Dumbledore’s absolute failure as a teacher, but that’s neither here nor there. He had a group of followers he called the Knights of Walpurgis, who wanted to defeat death, gain power ...”
“Lord Voldemort.”
“Yes, but let’s call him Tom Riddle, shall we?”
Hermione frowned. “Did he not want to be called Lord Voldemort?”
“No, he was always Tom Riddle to us. Most of us addressed him as Lord Riddle, due to him being a direct descendant from the House of Gaunt, which in return descended directly from the line of Salazar Slytherin.”
“That’s why he was a Parselmouth!” That made much more sense than the claims that his ability to talk to snakes were due to his involvement in Dark Magic!
Lucius actually looked proud. “Yes! It had nothing to do with him using Dark Magic, it was simply an inherited trait. He used the name Lord Voldemort as a teenager in the late 1930s and early 1940s when he was still the leader of the Knights of Walpurgis, but they dissolved their little group soon after Hogwarts and Lord Riddle was later actually quite embarrassed about how he thought that this made-up name would make him sound more imposing. Dumbledore dragged that name back up and used it in his propaganda against him and it stuck. Just like his supposedly horrid looks he, according to Dumbledore, also achieved due to his overuse of Dark Magic.” Lucius sounded slightly amused at that thought.
“Dark Magic really does quite a lot, according to Dumbledore. It teaches you languages, is bad for your skin and hair and eventually makes you look like a monster …” Narcissa said with a delicate eyeroll and Hermione grinned at little.
“Riddle was the best-looking bastard I’ve ever seen,” Snape said. “The pictures in the books you may have read – notably no photos – started off as caricatures and Dumbledore made everyone believe that was what he looked like towards the end. But he didn’t, not one bit. You may have noticed that there are no photos anywhere of him as a teenager or young adult either. The monster is all Dumbledore wanted people to remember.”
Narcissa chuckled. “If there were photos, you and Daphne wouldn’t be so interested in Mr Lockhart.”
At the mention of Lockhart, Snape looked disgusted.
“But we digress,” Lucius interrupted. “We were not at war yet, remember?” Hermione nodded automatically. “Dumbledore needed another dark wizard to fight. And maybe not only that, not a short duel this time, but preferably a war in which he could be the leader of the resistance and eventually emerge as the saviour. Tom Riddle was the perfect scapegoat. He was magically powerful, ambitious, charismatic, the goals of his youth had been … questionable and some of his schoolmates and teachers remembered that. And please let me be clear: I’m not saying Lord Riddle was a saint. He was an exceptional wizard, could be ruthless when the situation required it and he did some things in his youth he later admitted to me personally that he was not exactly proud of. But two things he was not: A crazed mass-murderer or a blood supremacist. He was a half-blood himself. All that was what Dumbledore made him in the eyes of the world. He needed a motive for his great war and Lord Riddle did not give him one. In fact, he had not done anything of public interest. Was he interested and knowledgeable in the Dark Arts and Blood Magic? Yes, he was. So am I.”
Hermione had not expected such a confession. But Draco had said that Lucius could have used the Imperius Curse on her parents, if his hands had been bound otherwise, hadn’t he? Maybe he had meant it exactly like that.
“Magic of any kind is not inherently bad. There are spells of any branch of magic which will cause great harm to the caster or his victim, in some branches the risk is higher than in others, but you don’t need the Dark Arts to kill someone. A Bombarda Maxima may do the same and that spell is perfectly legal, at least as long as you don’t actually use it to kill someone. Anyway, Riddle had done nothing to draw attention to himself so far and, as far as we know, Dumbledore even needed some time to figure out where he was. Then he played the long game.”
Bimsy apparated into the room and brought tea for everyone. Lucius took a sip before he continued. “He committed crimes and first discreetly, then openly, framed Lord Riddle and his then in reality more or less non-existent followers. We suspect that most members of the later Order of the Phoenix had no idea what was really going on, but a few close to Dumbledore truly supported his cause, for whatever reason. The situation worsened, people died, the names of Pureblood Families were dragged through the mud because they supposedly followed ‘Voldemort’ in his crusade against Muggles and Muggle-borns. Granted, it was not exactly helpful that many indeed thought themselves superior to them and were not exactly quiet about it, like my father or Mathilde. The harm of our reputation and Dumbledore accusing us of crimes, of murder, eventually caused many of us to actually join Lord Riddle. Before that, he had only a few friends on his side, now he truly had a large group of followers, many of them with money and influence. We tried to stop Dumbledore, make the public aware of what was truly going on, but he had constructed his story so well at that point that there was no changing the mind of the public and every step we took, every time we tried to prevent him from committing atrocities, they were framed on Lord Riddle and us. We started wearing masks and identical cloaks to prevent people from knowing who exactly turned up at the ‘crime scenes’. We saved many lives then, mainly Muggles and Muggle-borns, too, but those who died were blamed on us. And Dumbledore received the credit for those who were saved. He also turned the masks against us quite effectively at some point, by having people murdered by his helpers while they were disguised as Death Eaters. The press was completely on his side and he who controls the press, controls the public opinion. Many also believed that he was the only one powerful enough to eventually defeat ‘Voldemort’, so people started to depend on him, started giving him more power. He controlled part of the Ministry. We believe that many wizards and witches who witnessed what really happened were obliviated and their memories altered. There seemed to be no end to the war.”
“But what happened when the Potters died?” Hermione asked quietly. “Did Lord Riddle …?”
“No,” Lucius interrupted her very strongly. “He could not have been there because Severus and I were with him that entire night and we were here, at Malfoy Manor. We knew that James and Lily had found out about what was really happening, they had been in contact with us for quite some time, gave us information …”
“Like spies.”
“Yes. Lord Riddle even offered them protection, especially when Lily became pregnant and after their son was born, but they said they trusted their Secret Keeper.”
Both Snape and Narcissa had dark looks on their faces now, but they remained silent.
“We don’t know what happened at their house that night. Lord Riddle died in a very different way that I will not elaborate on at that point, but everyone thought he had perished while trying to kill Harry Potter and imagine Dumbledore’s disappointment when a little boy was celebrated as the saviour instead of him. But with Lord Riddle gone, he had no choice but accept the end of the war and his failure to portray himself as the hero who ended it. We, Riddle’s followers, got away with the claim of having been under the Imperius Curse, most of us anyway. And for some, there was no proof at all that they were Death Eaters in the first place. I will be honest with you: I do not like it. I considered him a friend and I do not like that he will likely forever be seen as a monster, but I had a very young son and a wife and I was not going to ruin their lives over fighting for a dead man’s honour. And I know he would not have wanted me to.”
Hermione leaned back in her armchair. All this was quite overwhelming. If what Lucius said was true, and she believed him, Albus Dumbledore was even worse than everyone thought Voldemort … Tom Riddle … to be.
“To be fair, most of Dumbledore’s motivations behind his actions, as I explained them to you, are the conclusion we have drawn as to why he did what he did. There is no way of knowing for sure what was going on in his head. Maybe he’s just crazy and wanted a war.”
Hermione huffed out half a laugh. “I think even with the motivation, it’s pretty obvious that he’s crazy.”
“On that we agree. Do you understand why I wanted you to know all that?”
Hermione thought about it and the three adults gave her time to digest all this new knowledge and draw her own conclusions. After a while, she slowly nodded. “I think so. You want me to be cautious around Dumbledore, especially since he approached me directly to talk me into switching houses for whatever reason.”
“Yes. It is possible that it’s about the house points. He’s genuinely biased towards Gryffindor, but if history has taught me anything, it is to question Dumbledore’s motives at every turn. Severus mainly stayed at Hogwarts as a teacher because he wanted to keep an eye on him. It started off as him being a double agent with his true allegiance to Lord Riddle, which Dumbledore fortunately never found out. But as I said, I don’t think you children have anything to worry about. I do not believe that anything will happen anytime soon, if ever. He’s old, maybe he’s given up on absolute power and glory. He is the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts, and still generally perceived as a war hero, if not the grand saviour he probably wanted to be. Maybe that’s enough for him now. Maybe the whole war grew over his head and he was, deep down, glad when it was over. But I don’t count on it. As long as he lives, I will see him as a potential threat.”
As you should, Hermione thought to herself. After everything he had done, he couldn’t be dismissed as harmless now.
“I made you learn Occlumency because, as I mentioned earlier, Dumbledore is a Legilimens. He will know by now that we are your magical guardians and even before that, he would likely have found out that you spent the holidays with us. I don’t want him to know that you know the truth about him, or that Draco and his friends do for that matter. I don’t know how Tom’s other former followers handled the situation, but the three of us here and the parents of Draco’s friends were among those Tom … Lord Riddle … trusted most. We did not just follow him because Dumbledore was defiling our name and framing us as murderers. He knew we were truly loyal to him. We remained close after his death and our children grew up together. And we decided that they should know what really happened, even it if it was a challenge for them to learn Occlumency before they even started school.”
Hermione hesitated. “There’s more. And it’s connected to the way Lord Riddle really died.” It wasn’t a real question; she understood she wouldn’t get a real answer right now.
“Yes, but for now, that is not for you. Dumbledore will not risk attacking your mind in earnest for information you may not have, but to be safe, I will not disclose this particular detail to you before I’m sure you can keep him out of your mind under any circumstances.” He smiled. “So keep practising.”
“I understand.” She returned his smile. “I will. And thank you for trusting me with this.”
“Of course. You’re part of the family now and therefore, I will not leave you in the dark. Or allow you to think that we at some point walked around murdering every Muggle-born we came across. Narcissa and I both grew up with parents who believed in blood supremacy and as children and young teenagers, so did we. It was all we knew. But even before we were out of Hogwarts, we left that nonsense behind. Severus is a half-blood, so like Lord Riddle, he has no reason to be a blood supremacist.”
She was glad to hear that and it meant even more that he considered her part of the family.
“I think that was quite a lot for one day,” Lucius said with a wry smile.
Narcissa chuckled. “You don’t say, darling.”
But her husband turned to Hermione once more. “Do you have any more questions?”
“Yes, I actually do. It may not be directly relevant to what happened, but … was the Dark Mark a myth? I don’t see it on you, Narcissa.” The witch was wearing a summer dress with short sleeves. “Although the books say that most wives of Death Eaters were not allowed to become Death Eaters themselves or didn’t want to, I can’t really imagine …” She trailed off, not really knowing how to say what she meant and not wanting to sound offensive.
“That I would stay at home while Lucius risked his life on a daily basis?” Narcissa asked with an amused smile.
Hermione nodded.
Narcissa held out her arm and slowly what looked like the dark ink of a tattoo appeared, formed a skull with snake coming out of its mouth, and disappeared again. Lucius and Severus pulled up one sleeve each and showed her the mark that seemed to be there consistently.
“Some of us, the sensible ones, wanted something more aesthetically pleasing and smaller.”
“She’s talking about the ladies,” Lucius chimed in with a dry voice and Hermione grinned.
Narcissa was not deterred. “But Tom did like his dramatics. And most of those who joined him first, like Lucius and Severus, were quite young at the time and thought it was, as Draco would say, cool.” She smiled at her husband fondly. “The older ones took longer to accept that they were not quite as untouchable by Dumbledore’s slander as they wanted to believe and by the time most of them joined, the Dark Mark was already established as a sign of allegiance and a means of communication. When we covered it with our hand, Tom knew where we were and that we were calling for him and when he wanted to call us to him, for a meeting or an emergency, he did the same. Thankfully, it can be made invisible at will, it clashes with pretty much everything one could possibly wear and I’d be condemned to long sleeves for the rest of my life.” At this, Hermione actually had to laugh.
“Also, there is a more practical reason,” Lucius elaborated. “As to why most women do not wear it openly, I mean. Most of us went for the Imperius Curse excuse after the war because there is no way to prove that one was not under the Imperius. But we didn’t know whether it would work. Many of us had children by then and so we decided to claim that the Death Eaters mainly consisted of men, so that the women may escape punishment in case there would be any.”
At this, Narcissa briefly dropped her gaze, obviously not liking the thought of Lucius rotting away in a prison cell. Hermione could sympathise.
“The Dark Mark appearing over the houses of those who were killed was Dumbledore’s doing, though. One of us was caught and they saw the Mark on his arm and since then, it appeared on the scenes of various crimes.”
Another way to frame them. Hermione shuddered. Then another thought came to mind. “The name Death Eaters, was that also propaganda?”
Lucius exchanged a wry smile with Snape. “No, it wasn’t. Lord Riddle did not want to revive the name Knights of Walpurgis, but we wanted a name for our little … group. We had come together because we wanted to prevent the deaths Dumbledore caused, whether because we thought it was wrong or out of self-preservation, and there is a vague relation to mythology in the term. Ammit, the Devourer of the Dead, a god from Ancient Egypt. Death Eaters has a better ring to it than Death Devourers, don’t you think?”
“I guess that’s true,” Hermione agreed, amused.
“Any more questions?”
She thought for a moment and found that her mind was whirling. After a while, she shook her head. “No, I can’t think of anything right now.”
“I’d say you have enough to think about. Just remember, while Draco and your other friends know about what I just told you, don’t talk about it unnecessarily at school, let alone in public.”
“Of course not!”
Deep in thought, Hermione went to her suite, only to find Draco sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace of her sitting room.
When she sat down next to him, he gave her a sympathetic smile. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?”
“You can say that again.”
The two of them sat there without saying anything more for quite a while, Draco keeping her company while she was trying to process everything she had just learned.
~tbc~