'And those murders were fifty years ago,' the old Muggle went on. 'We'd thought it was over and done with. But then, just a few weeks ago, old Frank Bryce went missing. He's the caretaker up at Riddle House. He just vanished one day, and no one's heard or seen anything from him.' He leaned closer to Remus and began whispering conspiratorially. 'But there have been strange happenings up at that house ever since then,' he said.
'Odd lights flashing in the windows, even though no one's lived there for years.' He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. 'And the other night,' he continued in a voice so low that Remus could hardly make him out, 'my Jack was up round there with some mates of his, and he told me he saw several strange men coming in and out. They were dressed funny, he says. Wearing cloaks and masks and whatnot.'
Remus froze. How many Death Eaters could they be facing? Several months had passed between Lucius's exile and Narcissa's abduction. It was foolish to think that Voldemort had not been using that time to his full advantage. Rescuing Narcissa might prove more difficult than they had hoped. He needed to tell Sirius right away.
He thanked the Muggle and quickly paid his bill before all but running out the door of the pub. He turned down an alley and pulled out a small handheld mirror.
'Sirius Black,' he hissed, and the mirror shimmered for a minute before his friend's face appeared in the glass.
'Hey there, Moony,' Sirius said. 'Any luck?'
'He's here, Padfoot,' Remus whispered. 'Riddle's holed up here in Little Hangleton.'
Sirius's grey eyes went wide. 'Are you sure?'
'Absolutely,' Remus replied. 'I've rather a lot to tell you, and I'd like to do it face-to-face.'
'Understood,' Sirius said. 'I'll gather up Abraxas and Aunt Cassie and we'll meet you back at Grimmauld Place in ten minutes.'
Remus nodded. 'See you there.'
The mirror went blank, and Remus slipped it back into his pocket before turning on his heel and Disapparating.
....
The room was empty, save the hard-backed wooden chair on which Narcissa sat, her gaze fixed and her posture perfect. Years worth of dust had accumulated on every surface, and the blonde witch wrinkled her nose at the filth. Her arms and legs were bound tightly to the chair with magical rope, and her delicate skin chafed under the pressure.
Her mouth was dry and sticky – she would have given her right arm for a glass of water – and her stomach rumbled. She had seen no sign of her husband since he had brought her here two days before. He had given her neither food nor water, and she had sat up in that horrid chair the whole time. Narcissa was exhausted, starving and filthy, and to make matters worse, she hadn't the faintest notion of why Lucius had done this.
Her relations with her husband had always been cordial, and, at times, quite affectionate. Even after his shocking behaviour towards their son and his consequent dismissal from the family, she had not wished to lose contact with him. She had sent him owls, even offered him money, but Lucius had made no reply to her generous overtures. Narcissa had believed that he wanted nothing more to do with her.
But now he had abducted her and brought her to some secluded Muggle house – at least she presumed it was a Muggle house, as she had seen no sign of magic on her way in. In any event, the house had clearly been long abandoned. It made no sense to her at all.
The lock clicked, and Lucius stepped through the door, carrying a pewter plate, on which sat a large crust of bread, and a small cup of water. He set them down on the window sill.
'Untie me at once, Lucius,' Narcissa demanded. 'How dare you presume to abduct me and keep me prisoner? I am your wife.'
Lucius raised an eyebrow. 'As far as I'm concerned, you lost all privileges associated with that title when you and my father took Black's side against me.'
'You used our son as a weapon against his best friend and tried to kill my cousin,' Narcissa reminded him. 'How would you have me respond?'
'I would have you submit to my decisions like an obedient wife and trust me when I say that I have acted for the best,' Lucius replied.
'Trust you?' Narcissa laughed bitterly. 'I shall never trust you again.'
Lucius ran a hand along her cheek, and the witch shivered.
'You're quite right, I'm afraid,' he said quietly. 'There can never again be trust between us. You have betrayed me, Narcissa, and I can never forgive that. However, I will permit you to earn back some small part of what you have forfeited through your actions.'
'My actions?' Narcissa snapped. 'How dare you?'
.....
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