Archive of Our Own

It was then we knew that the end times were upon us. Darkness was closing in everywhere. Even the whisper of the wind through the treetops spoke of impending doom in a voice that had not been heard since the rise of the last Dark Lord--

"What are you writing?" Hermione's voice shattered his concentration as she leaned over his shoulder.

Lucius slammed the journal shut and looked up at her with a scowl. "I was simply recording recent events for posterity."

"Did I just read the words 'end times'?"

"Reading over one's shoulder is rude. Your Gryffindor sense of tact has clearly not been damaged by our brush with near apocalypse."

"Nor has your Slytherin sense of grandiose." She patted his shoulder. "Why don't you try a more... direct approach? For posterity's sake, of course. You know Thaddeus will want to put his own spin on things. It would be nice to have at least one objective record of how this all happened."

"Mmm." Lucius frowned. "That he will." He hadn't thought of that. Not only did Thaddeus demonstrate a flare for the dramatic, he was a bloody attention hog.

"Very well," he said with sniff. "How about: It was the best of times; it was the worst of times..."

Hermione groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.

The wind was whipping rain against the windowpane in shrill, unrelenting torrents throughout the night, punctuated by great cracks of thunder and the rocket glare of lightning. Lucius cursed the storm and rolled over, wishing this building weren't so poorly constructed that even the most complex sound-proofing charm wore off within the hour. Magic just seeped out of the bloody walls, it seemed. Narcissa was likely sleeping soundly and securely beside her hulking trophy boytoy in Lucius's mansion at the moment.

He considered calling on Draco. At the very least, his son would have an empty couch on which he could finally get some rest.

And then the doorbell rang.

With a long-suffering sigh, Lucius pushed himself out of bed and grabbed his dressing-gown, shoving his feet into his slippers and making his way to the door of the flat.

"Who is it?" he called before opening the door, even though he knew only one person would even dare come by at this hour.

"Let me in, Lucius, you hermetic old mongoose. There's an old man sleeping out here and he smells of... sawdust and bone marrow."

Lucius's eyes narrowed and he pulled open the door to reveal Thaddeus Nott and Thaddeus's personal assistant and nephew-by-marriage, Olof or Otto or something, who was standing behind him holding two cups of Muggle takeout coffee.

"Thaddeus," Lucius said silkily. "Do you know what time it is?"

Thaddeus waved off Lucius's question. "Time is Owen's department." As he spoke, he marched into the flat.

"The time?" Otto said, giving Lucius a nervous look as he followed his uncle into the flat. "Oh, right, it's, uh..." He started to turn his wrist, but noticed just in time that he was about to tip the coffee cup. He thrust it unceremoniously at Lucius and then continued. "It's 1:33 am, Uncle Tad."

"Thank you, Owen." Thaddeus leaned in towards Lucius, speaking sotto voce. "I've found Hufflepuffs make excellent timepieces." He straightened up again and cleared his throat. "Anyway, Lucius, the night is still young. Live a little. In what little time we have left."

"What little..." Lucius trailed off with narrowed eyes. "Thaddeus," he said slowly. "What have you done this time?"

"Nothing. Nothing, of course," said Thaddeus, snatching the coffee from Otto and sniffing it. He concentrated for a moment, then cast a glare on the young man. "They forgot my caramel drizzle again, didn't they? No matter. I haven't the time to wait for you to get me another. I honestly don't know why I bother some days. It used to be so much easier to find a decent intern in the old days, eh, Lucius?"

Lucius hardly drew a breath, he just continued staring Thaddeus down. "What have you done?" he asked again.

Thaddeus cleared his throat again. "I may have," and here he raised the cup to his lips, mumbling the rest of the words as he sipped, "introduced a magical pathogen into the Muggle beef supply quite accidentally."

"You... what?" Lucius glanced at Otto, who was suddenly examining the ceiling with great interest.

"Theodore can't find out about this," Thaddeus continued as if Lucius hadn't said anything. "You know how he gets. He's still on about that silly matter with You-Know-Who. Honestly, what's the use of having an Auror in the family if he won't help hush up a small thing like the apocalypse?"

"Kids today," said Lucius dryly. He glanced at the intern-nephew. "Are you responsible for allowing this to happen?"

The boy's eyes widened in horror.

"What?" he said. "No! I wasn't even there. I was practicing in the other room."

"Owen's learning to monologue," Thaddeus said. "Honestly, he's horrible. I'm almost tempted to send him to Dolohov, but Helena won't hear of it." He shuddered.

Lucius nodded in sympathy. The ghost of Thaddeus's late wife was a termagant.

"If you're desperate enough to seek help from Dolohov, I can only imagine," Lucius said. "Well, first things first. I'll send Statler with a missive to Draco. It's probably wise to distance yourself from any apocalypse-related liability as soon as possible."

He snapped his fingers to summon a house-elf and commanded the creature to send for his most regal eagle owl. He and Thaddeus had purchased two as a matched set years ago in celebration of their sons' entries into the world of independent men. Of course, at the time, they'd had no idea that both Theodore and Draco would decide to walk the path of self-righteous do-gooders. Lucius had no idea where he'd gone wrong. At least he wasn't as bad off as Thaddeus; Draco lacked both the means and the authority to put Lucius in Azkaban.

And he was a lawyer, after all. It would only be a matter of time until he came back to the dark side. Especially with Montague as his partner.

He released the owl and took a sip of the coffee Otto had given him. It was going to be a long night.

Lucius ascended the steps to Malfoy Manor and automatically reached to grab the door knob before he stopped short. He wasn't allowed to just let himself into the house that had been in his family for generations anymore--Narcissa's lawyers had seen to that. He tamped down his rising annoyance and reached over to grab the bell cord instead. He just needed a book on Inferii that the Ministry had deemed long ago not to be a dark enough artifact to be confiscated. (If those dunderheads had had an ability to read between the lines, they likely would have ruled otherwise.) Surely he could be civil enough for him to obtain a simple book from the library. How hard could it be?

At that moment, the door opened and he found himself face to face with the Weasley. Shirtless, with red hair and muscles all over and good God, was that a tattoo?

How hard indeed.

"Good morning," Lucius said, his lip curling in disdain. All that muscle definition couldn't be healthy and it certainly wasn't attractive. What on earth was Narcissa thinking? This man was a Neanderthal.

At that moment, he heard Narcissa's voice coming from further down the foyer.

"Tell whoever it is to go away, Charlie darling," she said. Instead of her usual bored, arrogant tone, her voice was relaxed, playful even. "And come back to bed."

First her hand snaked around Weasley's middle, followed by the rest of her. Lucius's eyes widened at the sight of his wife--all right, his ex-wife--standing there wrapped around the half-naked man, wearing nothing but Weasley's shirt. Her blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and he had to admit that she looked quite fetching and much younger, almost like the lovely, devoted girl he'd married. Then Narcissa saw Lucius and her face fell. Ah, yes. That look. He knew it quite well. That was the old Narcissa.

"Ah," Lucius said dryly. "I see you have located Mr Weasley's missing shirt."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "What do you want, Lucius?" she hissed.

"I'm going to get the coffee started," said Weasley, and he started to move away, but Narcissa grabbed him by the wrist.

"Stay," she commanded, and he froze in place.

Obedient pet you've found yourself, Lucius thought, but he had the good sense not to voice it.

"I've come because I need to retrieve something from my library," he said.

"My library," she corrected.

To his credit, at the moment Weasley looked as though he'd rather be off breeding hippogriffs, or whatever it was he did for a living.

"Of course," said Lucius, somehow managing a thin facsimile of a smile. "It should only take a moment. It's in," he cleared his throat, "my father's wing of the library."

"Oh, those," said Narcissa, and damn it all to hell, but he knew what was coming next. "I donated those to the Young Wizards' Heritage Foundation. Honestly, Lucius, if those books really meant so much to you, you should have collected them weeks ago."

Lucius ground his teeth together. "I didn't realize I'd need them weeks ago," he said tightly.

"Mmm," said Narcissa. "Well, perhaps you can contact the Foundation and get them back. Come along, Charlie. This conversation has exhausted me." She let go of Weasley's wrist finally, her fingertips trailing down his hand, and started back down the hall.

Weasley, rubbing the back of his neck, finally looked up at Lucius. "Er, sorry about that, mate. The books, I mean. I hauled them out for her, but I had no idea they were strictly yours. No hard feelings, yeah?"

Lucius's lip curled away from his teeth in disgust. "None at all... mate."

He stood there for a moment after Weasley had closed the door behind him. The entire world was going to hell, literally, and his former wife, the supposed love of his life, was too busy shagging her ginger Adonis to notice. At times like this, the impending apocalypse felt like a welcome distraction.

It only made sense to feel out the Ministry to see if they knew the hell that was about to come crashing down all around them. Of course, Lucius had spent enough time inside the Ministry to realize that hardly anyone in the Ministry's employ was capable of the slightest bit of competency, but sooner or later the idiots always managed to stumble upon the truth somehow, and he needed to find out how close their blind staggering had brought them so far.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Lucius strode toward the place he'd agreed (demanded, really) to meet the Ministry official. He scanned the crowd milling around the area. There was one witch in Ministry robes but she certainly wasn't the one he'd come to meet. It was the Muggle-born Weasley-wife. Honestly, they were letting just anyone work at the Ministry these days. Perhaps Thaddeus, in all his "big brother is watching" paranoia, had a point about the wizarding government. She turned in his direction then, and Lucius quickly looked away, a second too late to avoid eye contact.

He decided to move closer to the fountain.

"Mr Malfoy." The voice calling him was strong and clear.

Blast.

"Mr Malfoy!" Could she not tell that he was demonstratively avoiding her?

"Lucius Malfoy!"

He spun around, chin raised in the air as he looked down on her.

"Mrs Weasley," he said. He let his gaze dart around the crowd. She was supposedly bright; perhaps she'd take the hint.

"Mr Malfoy," she said crisply. Her face was solemn, but an amused glint lit her eyes as if she knew Lucius was trying to avoid her. "It's Granger again, actually. You wished to see me?"

Granger. So she'd come to her senses. Or Potter's sidekick had. When Lucius thought about it, he couldn't decide which one of them had made the poorer choice.

"I wished to speak to someone from the Ministry on a highly sensitive and secretive matter," he said. "I doubt that means you."

Granger raised a brow. "I'm afraid you'd be wrong there, Mr Malfoy. Why don't you come to my office?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to protest when a commotion arose near the fountain commemorating Harry Potter's victory over the Dark Lord. He looked over to see Thaddeus's son Theodore holding a scrappy-looking man by the upper arm. Mundungus Fletcher. Dear God.

"Oh, Dung," Granger said, sounding like a world-weary parent.

Lucius snorted. Of course she knew him. Luckily, she didn't seem to know that Lucius did. That, unfortunately, was about to change.

"Gerroff!" Fletcher shrieked. "I don't want no trouble from Aurors. I just wanna see Minister Shacklebolt!" At that moment, he spied Lucius, and Lucius shrank behind the Granger woman in a vain attempt to hide. "Lucy! Me old mate! You gotter 'elp me!"

Granger turned to face Lucius. "Friend of yours?" she asked, and she looked so wickedly amused that it made his wand finger twitch. It wasn't that funny.

He straightened up regally and cleared his throat.

"One does what one must in Azkaban, Miss Granger," he said.

Granger pursed her lips as if she were trying to keep some comment at bay and then directed her attention to Theodore and Fletcher. It was then that Lucius noticed the redheaded man tagging along behind and remembered Thaddeus mentioning that Theodore's new partner was that Weasley. And, of course, he was making Theodore do all the work. Typical. Once a sidekick, always a sidekick.

"Theodore," Lucius said, mustering as much dignity as possible with Fletcher begging for his attention.

Weasley narrowed his eyes. "Are you in on this with him, Malfoy?" he said. "What are you doing with my wife?"

"Ex-wife, Ron," Granger corrected.

"Sorry. What are you doing with my ex-wife?" said Weasley

"You'll have to excuse him," she murmured to Lucius dryly. "It's only been three years since the divorce."

Theodore snorted. "Still hung up on your ex, Ron?" he asked, a certain note of glee in his voice. "Didn't you say you had a girlfriend?"

Weasley turned even redder.

"Shut it, Nott," Weasley hissed. "I'm seeing someone, all right? It's just... complicated." He pulled himself up to his full height and cleared his throat. "Anyway, if you'll excuse us, we've got a very important arrest to make."

"They're just tryin' ter silence me!" Fletcher said indignantly. He leaned towards Lucius, who grimaced as the smell of tobacco and unwashed miscreant assailed his nose. Fletcher lowered his voice. "They don't want anyone to know. About the Inferiuses."

"Inferii," Lucius corrected automatically. He froze when he said it, surreptitiously looking to Granger, but she didn't seem to notice anything unusual, so he took a deep breath to compose himself. Perhaps Fletcher was simply talking nonsense.

"Right." Fletcher gave Theodore a haughty look that he was obviously copying from Lucius. "I'm a h'expert on Inferiuses...i...i."

"Have you been drinking, Mundungus?" Granger said, and she sounded sympathetic. Well, why wouldn't she? Lucius mused. He was her people, after all.

"Well, 'Ermione," Fletcher said matter-of-factly. "You'd be drinking, too, if you seen what I seen."

Damn, thought Lucius. He knows.

Fletcher tried to take a step forward. Theodore dragged him back, but then, at a nod from Granger, released him with a roll of his eyes. Lucius gave the woman a considering look. Interesting.

Fletcher didn't hesitate, and this time no one stopped him.

"Inferiuses. They're all over the place. But lucky for you, you've got me." With that, Fletcher swung open one side of his robes, revealing a myriad of watches hanging there. He cleared his throat and quickly closed his robes again.

"Erm, don't you mind about that," he said. "'Ere..." He opened the other side of his robes and took a card out of his breast pocket and handed it to Granger. "My card."

Granger furrowed her brow as she read the card.

"'Mundungus Fletcher: Inferius Whisperer'." She turned to Fletcher, a brow raised. "'Inferius whisperer'? And what does an Inferius whisperer do, exactly?"

"Why, I whisper to Inferiuses, dun' I?" Fletcher said with an emphatic nod. "And this 'ere's the Inferius h'apocalypse."

"This man should be locked up, Theodore," Lucius said, quickly cutting off anything else Fletcher might have to say on the matter. The man was treading all over Lucius's meticulously prepared speech, and even if he was going to be forced to give the speech to Granger, it was his tale to tell, not Fletcher's. "He's clearly out of his mind."

"That's a bit extreme, don't you think?" Granger said. Was she chastising him?

"Hermione," said Weasley, as if anyone had asked him, "I'm sure Mundungus should be locked up for a lot of things. Going 'round the bend is probably the least of them."

Theodore frowned at his partner.

"Fletcher might not be mad, Ron, but he is a con artist," he said. "You can't trust a thing he says. I wouldn't put it past him to make this all up in hopes of making a quick galleon."

Ron? Lucius thought in disbelief. That was the second time now. Were these two friends? He couldn't wait to tell Thaddeus. Served him right for getting them into this predicament.

"I'm not lyin'!" Fletcher said, punctuating each word with emphasis. He took something else out of his voluminous robes and held it up, revealing it to be a newspaper. "I was visitin' me cousin Donny--'e's in muggle prison, bless 'im, but 'e's innocent, I swear--and I found this." As he handed it towards them, Lucius reached for it, but the Granger woman was faster.

"Zombies," Fletcher continued, leaning forward to poke at the article in question. "That's what the Muggles call 'em. The Inferius-y-eye."

"Yes, I know, Dung," Granger said. Her forehead creased as she read the paper and Lucius found himself staring at the line that had formed between her brows. There was something strangely fascinating about the way she gave her full attention over to the page in front of her.

And her looks, they had changed from what he remembered. Everything about her seemed carefully manicured and intentional, though he supposed that could have been because she wasn't attempting to fight off a hostile group of Death Eaters at the moment. Even her hair, though, which he thought he remembered as wild and untamed when she was young, now was pulled back neatly in a way that suited her face.

She raised her eyes and his eyes darted away, looking around to make sure no one had noticed... whatever had just not happened. Perhaps Thaddeus had been right; Narcissa leaving had clearly muddled his senses.

"Are we going to stand here all day and listen to nonsense?" he said irritably. Then he sighed. There was clearly only going to be one way out of this. Mundungus Fletcher was not going quietly.

Lucius reached into his robes and pulled out a heavy coin purse. "What will it cost to post bail for this flim-flam artist?" he asked Theodore.

Theodore gave Lucius a look of consternation.

"Well, technically he was just being a public nuisance," he said. "We haven't actually arrested him yet."

Fletcher puffed out his chest.

"I just want to do me civic duty," he said. "An' if there's one fing I know, it's Inferiuses." He winked at Granger. "You could say I'm an Inferius magnet."

"Maybe they're attracted to the smell," Weasley said under his breath. Lucius shot him a warning look.

"Ron, act professionally," said Granger, in a tone that was probably much like Weasley's harpy of a mother.

Weasley scuffed his boot on the ground.

"It's a miracle the marriage didn't last," Lucius murmured to her. The corner of Granger's mouth curled up in amusement.

"Ron," she said. "Are you and Theo arresting Mundungus? Or could you perhaps let him off with just a warning this time?"

Weasley exchanged a look with Theodore and then he nodded.

"Yeah, all right," he said. He turned to Fletcher and gave him a stern look. "And don't let us find you hanging around here bothering honest folk again, Du-- Fletcher."

"Oh, I won't be bovverin' h'onest folk," Fletcher said with a gleeful grin as he turned to Lucius. "Just me old friend Lucy. Just like old times, eh?"

"Quite," Lucius said stiffly. He turned to Granger. "Shall we take our meeting somewhere private?"

"Let's," Fletcher said solemnly. His eyes darted back and forth furtively, and he suddenly reminded Lucius of Thaddeus. "You never know 'o's listenin'."

"Well, that most certainly won't be you--" Lucius froze, his mouth still open as Granger raised a hand, and then he snapped it shut again. How dare she!

"Mundungus does seem to be on very friendly terms with you, Mr Malfoy," she said. "I think I'd like to see exactly how close the two of you are. Why don't you both come up to my office?"

Before Lucius could reply, Fletcher had already offered Granger his arm.

"Splendid idear, eh, Lucy?"

"What have I told you about calling me that?" said Lucius, glowering. He was irritated and annoyed already, and the meeting hadn't even started yet. This was what he got for cleaning up Thaddeus's mess for him.

With a scowl, he followed them towards the Ministry, certain that not even the smallest part of his resentment had to do with watching Fletcher escort the Granger woman to her office.

"Now," said Granger, sitting rigidly on the chair opposite Lucius's desk as he slowly strode to his own seat. "What is your urgent order of business with the Ministry, Mr Malfoy?" Her lips twitched just slightly. "Does it, perhaps, have anything to do with Mundungus's Inferii Apocalypse?"

"I regret to inform you, Miss Granger, that it does, indeed, have to do with the upcoming Inferii onslaught." He cast a disapproving, sideways glance at Mundungus. "I have no idea how he found out about this."

Mundungus gave Granger a nonchalant shrug. "It's me animal magnetism. Just ask Lucy." He nodded at Lucius, who shuddered, and then leaned forward to rest his hands, fingers intertwined, on the desk with an exaggerated sigh. "I'm a h'Inferius magnet. They won't leave me alone."

Granger pressed her lips together. "Really?" she said. "That's... fascinating." She cleared her throat.

"Perhaps you won't find this so amusing when the walking dead outnumber the living," Lucius said darkly.

"Forgive me if I have trouble believing that an army of Inferii is going to rise from the ground and attack the wizarding world, Mr Malfoy. You're going to have to give me something more substantial than that."

"Oi've got proof." Mundungus reached into his voluminous robes and pulled out a small, black, rectangular object. He poked it a few times, eliciting a few beeps, and then held it up to show a moving picture of Inferii shuffling down a street. "It's all 'ere on me mobile."

Lucius's upper lip curled. "You carry a Muggle telephone with you?"

"Welcome to the twenty-first century, Mr Malfoy," said Granger. "Muggle technology does have its uses these days."

"Then perhaps we should leave this dilemma to the Muggles entirely," said Lucius. "See how well suited they are for the end of the world."

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" said Granger. "And besides, the Muggles have been prepared for this for years. I believe they refer to it as 'the zombie apocalypse'."

Lucius scoffed. "I can assure you that the Muggles will be the first to go when Tha--this epidemic strikes."

"I'm sorry?" Granger said, her eyes narrowing on him like one of Thaddeus's laser beams. "What was it that you started to say?"

"The Inferii epidemic is going to wipe the Muggles from the face of the earth," said Lucius. He cleared his throat.

"No, you started to say something else. And you corrected yourself. I heard you."

"I will remind you that I called this meeting, Miss Granger. It is not a trial, and even if it were, I certainly wouldn't be the one prosecuted."

She smiled, like a kneazle, like he was prey. "No, you wouldn't, would you? Because you're protecting someone."

Lucius cast a despairing glance in Mundungus's direction.

Mundungus sniffed. "Lucy's the most loyal friend you'll ever 'ave, 'Ermione. 'E'd rather die before 'e betrays a friend. Or go back to Azkaban." He turned back to Lucius. "Don't worry, mate, I won't let you go alone. Maybe we'll be cellmates again, eh?"

"It was Thaddeus Nott," Lucius said quickly. "It was an accident, of course. Probably the fault of that nephew of his. Nepotism does not always pay."

"So you're reporting to the Ministry that Thaddeus Nott is raising an army of the undead?" said Granger. "I... see."

Lucius sputtered. "Thaddeus isn't raising an undead army. At least, I don't think he is. Not on purpose, anyway." He sighed. "At any rate, he's sorry now, and he just wants this whole problem to disappear before his son finds out."

Mundungus gave him a sage nod.

"That Feo's a twat," he said. "No sense of 'umor."

"So you decided to bypass the Aurory all together," Granger said, and she looked rather pleased about that. "So, tell me, then. What exactly has Thaddeus done?"

"Otto," Lucius said cordially as Thaddeus's nephew opened the door. "Your uncle is expecting me." He sighed as he heard Mundungus clear his throat behind him. "Us."

"My name's Owen," the boy said. He narrowed his eyes at Mundungus. "I've only got enough coffee for two."

"No worries!" Mundungus said with enthusiastic cheer. "I'll 'ave a pint of wha'ever brew you've got."

"I wouldn't say that if I were you," Otto muttered, casting a nervous glance down the corridor. "Follow me, please."

"Of course." Lucius shot a warning look at Mundungus as they headed down the long hallway that led to the stairs.

Thaddeus's basement laboratory was protected by an absurd amount of protective hexes and curses. When they finally made it down, Thaddeus looked up from his bubbling test tubes with some kind of magnification device strapped to his head. Gears and lenses whirred around him as he gave Lucius a nod.

"You've brought me a test subject," he said, raising only one of the lenses to look at them. The other eye remained magnified. "How thoughtful."

Lucius opened his mouth to deny that he'd brought along Mundungus as a test subject and then shut it again. Not that he wanted Thaddeus to kill Mundungus, but if an accident were to happen...

"'Ow much?"

Thaddeus gave Mundungus a considering look.

"How much would you require?" he asked, his voice taking on the silky tone he'd always used on prey during their time with the Dark Lord.

Mundungus hummed softly to himself as looked around at the multicolored test tubes.

"Well," he said. "I reckon as much as pint at the Leaky Cauldron. Per potion."

Thaddeus raised a brow.

"You drive a hard bargain, Mister...?"

Lucius sighed. "Mundungus Fletcher." He sighed as Mundungus nudged him. "Inferius Whisperer. Mundungus, this is Thaddeus Nott, erm... inventor."

"My pleasure," Mundungus said, giving Thaddeus an exaggerated bow. "Now, about that drink..."

"Of course." Thaddeus reached into his pocket and pulled out few knuts, counting them out into Mundungus's hand before turning to the assortment of vial before him. He grabbed one and was about to thrust it at Mundungus when Otto intervened.

"Uncle Tad, no!"

Thaddeus narrowed his eyes at his nephew. "No? Would you prefer to be the one who tests them again?"

Otto blanched and stepped away.

"No, of course not."

Thaddeus snorted.

"Thought not," he hissed. He turned to Mundungus. "How would you like to try this one, Mr Fletcher?"

Mundungus was fixing a glare at Otto, obviously fearing the theft of his new source of income.

"I'd love to," he said, grabbing the test tube as if he were afraid it would get away. He drank down the green liquid quickly as Thaddeus watched him with a fascinated gaze and then set down the vial with a thundering burp.

"Needs more tabasco," he announced. He didn't seem to notice that his skin had turned a vivid shade of orange with purple polkadots.

"Fascinating," Thaddeus said, rubbing his chin. "Owen, please take notes." His nephew fished a notebook out of his pocket and started to scribble.

"Please," Lucius said with a loud sigh. "May we get down to business?"

Thaddeus pried his gaze away from Mundungus with reluctance. "Of course," he said. "In the grand scheme of this... well, I suppose 'catastrophe' is the only word for it, we have run in to what we mad scientists like to describe as a glitch." He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers at these last words.

"A glitch," said Lucius, raising an eyebrow. He just knew something like this was going to happen. After all the effort they'd put into convincing Granger to work with them, Thaddeus had to muddle it all up again.

"Yes, well, it was bound to happen," Thaddeus said airily. "The contaminated meat has shipped. The virus is about to begin spreading like fiendfyre."

Bugger.

Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose.

"And an antidote?"

Thaddeus snorted. "Should be well in hand before the problem reaches the wizarding community. Muggles, however, and possibly mud-Muggleborns," he shot a disdainful glance at Otto as he corrected himself, "are doomed to walk the earth in flesh-hungry hoards. Oh, yes, did I mention that unfortunate side effect? The Inferii this virus creates have a taste for human flesh. Brains, in particular." He turned his gaze to Mundungus. "So I suppose some of us will be luckier than others."

Lucius exhaled slowly through pursed lips. He attributed the slight flare of indignity he'd felt at Thaddeus's almost-slur--the one he himself had used thousands of times in the past--to his vexation with this burgeoning dilemma. It certainly had nothing at all to do with--

"Granger."

Thaddeus finally raised the other lens, watching Lucius shrewdly with two normal-sized eyes. "Pardon me?"

"We need to contact Granger, at the Ministry. Immediately. Mundungus and I spoke with her earlier. She has access to the things we'll need in order to eradicate this virus before any real trouble begins," said Lucius.

"As I said, the antidote will be ready before the problem peaks in the wizarding community," Thaddeus said, more slowly this time, as if Lucius's problem was comprehension.

Once again, Lucius felt a flare of discomfort with this attitude. He wondered idly if he'd been infected.

"Be that as it may, something must be done about the millions of Muggle Inferii who will be roaming the streets in short order," he said.

Thaddeus snorted. "Who will be able to tell the difference?"

Mundungus put his hand to his head and screwed up his face like he was listening to something only he could hear.

"Inferiuses just want our brains," he said finally. "They don't care if it's Muggle or wizard brains."

Lucius resisted the urge to smile at Thaddeus's look of stunned disbelief.

"Inferius whisperer," he said with a shrug. Then he sighed. "We should consult with Miss Granger."

His heart started to pound in anticipation at the prospect of seeing her again, but he was quick to attribute it to an academic interest in the matter at hand.

"Owen," said Thaddeus sharply, waving his hand in the air. "Contact Granger at the Ministry. Tell her it's top priority and she is to come at once. And get me a venti dolce cinnamon latte with an extra shot of espresso. Don't let them forget the whipped cream this time." He turned to Lucius. "And for you?"

"Latte macchiato fer me," Mundungus said. "An' Lucy'll 'ave an orange mocha frappachino. With those chocolate bits on top."

"With chocolate sprinkles," Otto repeated as he jotted down their order. "Right."

"But--" Lucius started to object, but then he realized Mundungus had got his order exactly right. He narrowed his eyes at the other man. "How did you know that?"

"You 'ad a cravin' for it in prison, remember?" Mundungus shook his head. He leaned toward Thaddeus. "Wouldn't stop talkin' about it, day or night," he added, lowering his voice conspiratorily.

"That's a rather... excessive exaggeration, don't you think?" Lucius said.

"Perhaps I'm not as opposed to Fletcher's presence as I thought," said Thaddeus, raising an eyebrow at Lucius. "If you wish to stop by for another round of testing my inventions, Mr Fletcher, I'd be glad to hear more tales of Lucius's prison days. It was rather dull being kept in solitary confinement for so much of my stay at Azkaban."

Lucius scoffed. "You were only in solitary confinement once after that contretemps with Dolohov in the dining hall."

Thaddeus scowled. "In spite of his insistence otherwise, I was not trying to poison him. I simply needed an expendable candidate for a new strain of troll pox I was developing. He would have survived. Probably."

At that moment, Otto reentered the room, balancing their coffees on a tray.

"Miss Granger has arrived," he said, holding out the tray.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Granger said. Her eyes had a languid, sleepy look about them, as if she'd just woken up, and her hair was slightly mussed. Usually Lucius preferred his woman to be more... well groomed, without a hair out of place, but seeing Granger like this made him wonder what it would be like to wake up to her in his bed like that...

Lucius cleared his throat, quickly putting such thoughts out of his head. What was wrong with him? If he didn't know better, he'd start to wonder if Thaddeus hadn't been experimenting on him as well.

"Miss Granger," he said. "Have you met Thaddeus Nott and his nephew, Otto?"

"Owen," Thaddeus corrected carelessly, his attention now consumed by a petrie dish filling at an alarming rate with hissing, spitting, tiny blue sparks. "Oh, dear."

Granger frowned in Thaddeus's direction. "Mr. Nott. Ot--Owen. Mr Malfoy, I'm going to assume that the reason you dragged me out here at two in the morning is a matter of survival of the human race." She shot another frown at Thaddeus. "Am I correct?"

"Oh, hmm." Thaddeus thrust the petrie dish into his nephew's hand and looked up. "Yes. A matter of dire importance."

Granger sighed. "And is it related to--" She broke off as she noticed Mundungus. "Why is Mundungus covered in purple spots?"

"He's donated his body to science," said Lucius quickly, taking her by the arm to turn her attention back to Thaddeus. "Now, about this impending Inferii disaster."

"Right," said Granger. "What's happened?"

"It appears," Thaddeus began, "that the strain of virus that has gone missing from my lab--"

"Through no fault of your own," Lucius cut in.

"I'm sure that goes without saying," said Thaddeus. "Anyway, the modified Inferii virus has been released into the Muggle meat supply. And if my calculations are correct, by this time tomorrow, Bristol will be completely overrun with Muggle undead."

Lucius watched the color drain from Granger's face as she realized this was no joke.

"How do we stop it?" she said.

Thaddeus shrugged. "We don't. Well, I suppose we should, but it's far too dangerous. They're only Muggles, after all."

"As are my parents," Granger said hotly. She looked up at Lucius. "How do we stop it?"

"We..." Lucius watched her, standing there all worked up, and swallowed, dismayed to discover his throat had gone dry. "We go to Bristol," he said, and just like that, the decision was made.

"Right." Mundungus patted down his pockets. "I got everyfing. Even me 'Ippogriff jammies."

Otto darted his eyes from one person to the next and then moistened his lips.

"I'll just stay here and hold down the fort, Uncle Tad," he said.

"Oh no." Thaddeus grabbed the boy by the ear and started to pull. "If I'm going to be dragged to doomsday at the mercy of Lucius Malfoy's libido, I'm taking you with me." After a pause, he added, "And my Auror son."

"Well..." Granger was surveying the inside of the pub, which seemed to Lucius a ridiculous thing to do. "Maybe we made it in time after all. We need to find every distribution center in Bristol. The contaminated meat might have ended up anywhere."

Thaddeus checked his pocket watch. "Theodore should be arriving any moment now by the portkey I sent." He frowned at Mundungus. "You may want to step aside. It's a experimental model."

Lucius grabbed Mundungus by the arm and jerked him away, giving the entire table a wide berth. He motioned to Granger to slide her chair back. Merlin only knew how Thaddeus defined "experimental." They'd be lucky if the boy didn't appear inside out and on fire.

Suddenly there was a loud WHOOSH! and the entire pub seemed to be filled with people. Theodore was standing next to his wife Tracey, holding her arm as she swayed on her extremely high heels, while Draco and that horrible ex-husband of Granger's--words failed him.

But not for long.

"Draco! What on earth?!"

Draco was lying flat on his back with Granger's ex lying sprawled on top of him. It was really most unseemly.

"Oy!" Weasley shouted. "Gerroff me, Ferret!"

Draco rose to his feet indignantly, watching Weasley out of the corner of his eye as he dusted off his robes. "Father," he said formally.

"Draco," said Lucius, suppressing a shudder.

"What the hell was that?" Tracey shouted, rounding on her husband as she tugged down the hem of her ludicrously short skirt.

Honestly, thought Lucius. Kids these days.

"Exploding portkey," said Thaddeus. "Clearly Theodore was violating the bubble of personal solitude theory I've been trying to instill in him since he was ten years old."

"Why, 'ello, gorgeous," Mundungus said, sidling up to Tracey. He spit on his hand and slicked back his hair before offering the same hand to Tracey. "I'm Mundungus. Me friends call me Dung."

Tracey took a long step back, staring down at the little man with a mix of revulsion and curiosity. "Tracey Davis-Nott," she said, watching his offered hand distrustfully. "Theodore's wife."

"As it so 'appens, I'm in search of a good wife," Mundungus said. "Someone else's would do just fine." He winked at Theodore. "'Specially when I don't 'ave ter pay the h'alimony."

Theodore's eyes narrowed. "That's my wife you're talking about, Fletcher."

"Hello?" Granger's voice cut through the din irritably. "Over here, remember? We're on the verge of the collapse of civilization. Now is not the time for flirtation, Mundungus." She looked from Weasley to Theodore and sighed. "I suppose two Aurors are better than one. Draco and Tracey, you're going to have to return to London immediately. It's not safe here."

"Just one minute, Granger," said Draco. "What kind of trouble have you got my father into, anyway?"

"Why on earth would you assume this is my fault?" Granger said.

Before Draco could start on what Lucius assumed must be a litany of reasons, Lucius stepped between them.

"Draco, this is most assuredly Thaddeus's fault," he said. "And Fletcher's. Though I haven't figured out exactly how yet. But I agree with Miss Granger. You should go home."

Draco looked to Weasley first, and the two exchanged some sort of silent argument, then he turned back at Lucius. "What sort of trouble are you in?"

A few minutes later, Granger had explained the whole thing, and Draco decided that he wasn't going anywhere. Tracey, too, announced that if her husband was going to be here, then she would stay, which seemed to delight Mundungus to an unreasonable degree.

"I need a drink and a smoke," Tracey said, shaking her hair back off her shoulders. "You people figure out how you're going to solve this mess in the meantime." With that, she sauntered over to the bar.

Thaddeus pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"What have I done to deserve this?" he asked plaintively.

"She's a Dolohov," Lucius murmured to Granger by way of explanation. "Antonin's illegitimate daughter. Crazy Russians."

Granger watched Tracey lean over the bar and nodded. "I modified Antonin Dolohov's memory once," she said.

"Impressive," said Lucius.

"All right," Granger said. "As ranking Ministry official, I'm putting myself in charge of this mission."

Weasley murmured something to Theodore, but shut his mouth quickly at one glare from his ex-wife.

"I call shotgun!" Mundungus said, raising his hand. He leered at Tracey, who had glanced over when he spoke. "That makes me your go-to man."

Tracey sipped the martini the bartender had just handed her--at this hour? Poor Thaddeus, indeed--and raised one eyebrow. "Charmed," she said.

"Oh, for goodness sake," said Hermione. "We're in the middle of a crisis, Mundungus. Ron, I think someone should contact Harry immediately--"

"Of course," Lucius said dryly. "Potter. Who else would be our savior at this dire hour?" Beside him, Thaddeus chortled.

Just then, Lucius noticed something peculiar about the bartender. He was approaching Tracey from behind, which wasn't unusual given that every man in the bar had been watching her, but the way he was moving... Lucius drew his wand from his cane and charged forward, firing off a spell that drilled into the bartender's forehead and splattered his brain across the mirror behind the bar. Tracey screamed. Mundungus rushed over and grabbed her hands.

"Don't worry, love," he said, mustering her appearance critically. "You still look flawless."

"He singed my hair!" she said indignantly. "But thank you, Mr Fletcher. The sentiment is appreciated." Then she cast a dark look in Theodore's direction, as if she expected him to have done the same.

Theodore rolled his eyes and exchanged a glance with Draco.

"All right," he growled. "How do we kill these things?"

"As demonstrated," said Thaddeus. "Aim for the head. It's our brains they want to eat, and their brains we have to destroy. Use anything you can find. A hex, a hammer, a bottle of gin, it won't matter. Muggles prefer guns. I find them rather boorish."

Lucius felt something on his sleeve and looked beside him to see Granger pulling him aside. "How did you know that one was one of them?" she said. She appeared impressed. More than impressed, actually, and Lucius felt his chest puff up a little bit.

"I've spent a good deal of time around Inferii," he said, and for the first time, ever, felt slightly ashamed at his time spent in the Dark Lord's fold. "I know how to recognize them."

She gave him a small smile. "Then we'll definitely need your help. It looks like the virus has already spread."

Lucius gazed at Granger for a long moment, caught in her eyes. He'd just taken an involuntary step towards her when a commotion drew his attention.

"Draco!" Ron shouted. He grabbed Draco's arm, pulling Lucius's son out of the way of a large, lumbering Inferius and losing his balance, pulling Draco onto him on the floor again as both Theodore and Mundungus jumped forward, wands blazing, the combined force of their magic exploding the head of the unfortunate creature.

"They're all Inferii!" Granger said, taking Lucius by the robe and pulling him toward the storeroom. "Everyone, in there. Ron! Get up off the floor, would you? This is serious!"

"Yes, Weasley! Off me!" Draco said, though Lucius caught the odd undertone in his voice. Something fishy was going on here.

Tracey was removing one of her shoes casually, and Lucius nearly urged her to hurry along for Merlin's sake, when she spun around and jammed the long heel right into the head of an Inferius.

"Ugh," she said, tugging it out with a sickening squelch. "These things smell revolting."

"Merlin," Mundungus said admiringly. He turned to Lucius. "Someday she'll be me common law wife."

"Oh, yes," Thaddeus breathed into Lucius' other ear. "Please."

"Hello?" Theodore said irritably. "I'm standing right here."

Weasley clapped Theodore on the shoulder. "I feel for you, mate. It can't be easy to lose your wife to Dung."

"I have not lost my wife to Fletcher!" Theodore said heatedly. "Honestly." He glanced over at Tracey, who was looking at Mundungus with a moué of distaste, and he seemed to relax a little.

They reached the storeroom and Granger herded them all inside, more like a rooster than a mother hen, and then Theodore and Weasley barricaded the door. Thaddeus and Otto, who had been unusually quiet since their arrival, were already setting up a makeshift laboratory with the supplies available on the shelves. Lucius wondered if this was, perhaps, the most dangerous place they could have hidden.

"All right," said Granger. "We need a plan. We have to assume that most of the city is infected by now. We need to contain the outbreak as soon as possible. Thaddeus, you're in charge of that. Ron and Theo..." She paused for a moment, then reached behind her and pulled two brooms from the wall, thrusting them at each man. "Make these fly. I need you to survey the city for us. You're Aurors, you can do that better than anyone else. Tracey and Mundungus... Keep Draco safe. Lucius and I will try to fight our way out and find a better stronghold."

Mundungus reached into his voluminous robes.

"I've got a machete," he said, holding up something that looked like a needle.

"I hope, Mr Fletcher," Tracey said, an odd purr in her voice. "It's not the size of the blade that counts, but the man who wields it."

Mundungus gave her a wide, toothy grin.

"It's a little o' bofe," he said, murmuring a spell to expand the machete to full size.

"The hell I'm staying behind with them," said Draco indignantly. "Father, I'm coming with you. Honestly, Granger. They trust you to help run the government?"

"Fine. You can come," said Granger. "But you'd better not slow us down. I need to get to a place where I can contact the Ministry as soon as possible. Is everyone ready?"

"So, what's a nice bird like you doin' in a place like this?" Mundungus was saying to Tracey as Lucius and the others left the storeroom, their wands at the ready.

Inside the pub proper, it was chaos. Inferii--though they were different from Inferii somehow, Thaddeus had changed them--staggered and stumbled, turning immediately toward the small group that had just surfaced from the storeroom.

"I don't think any of them have left," said Granger. "Maybe we have the outbreak contained. If we can get to the rest of the meat before it's served--"

"The meat," said Lucius, sending a volley of hexes toward a cluster of young, male Inferii in Muggle sports jerseys, "is no longer our only concern."

"So you've been keeping more from me?" Granger said, sending hex after hex at an elderly yet impressively nimble Inferius before giving up, grabbing the nearest chair, and cracking it over the creature's head.

"Let's not forget that Thaddeus is truly to blame," said Lucius. "He's the one who--"

"Father!" Draco said, skirting around the back of the bar and locking the low door behind him, then sending a hex at the group of Inferii gathering there. "Get to the point."

"Right. While the initial virus was transferred through the meat, these Inferii can make more of their own, simply by biting a living person."

"You've got to be kidding me," said Granger. "Was Thaddeus studying Muggle zombie films?"

"Don't look at me," said Draco. "I told Theo it was a bad idea to introduce him to DVDs."

Granger blasted through the heads of three Inferii as if knocking tin cans from a fence post, and threw over a long table, providing them some degree of cover between the bar and the door.

"Come on," she said.

Ducking low, Lucius followed her along behind the table and toward the door with Draco scrambling along behind them to catch up. She pushed open the door and bright sunlight poured in, making everything else in the world seem small and out of focus for a moment, but as they straightened to full height and blinked their way into recognition, human forms began to appear all over the streets and sidewalks.

Only they weren't human.

"Inferii," Granger said, her voice soft and low.

"Whose idea was it to give Theo and Ron the only brooms?" Draco hissed.

"Not now, Draco," said Lucius.

So far, they had managed to escape notice, and he intended to keep it that way. They began edging their way along the building, Granger between Lucius and Draco as they flattened themselves against the stone wall. She was looking around wildly, presumably for another safe place to hide. Lucius reached out and took hold of her wrist, only, he told himself, because he would conceivably need a human shield at some point, and perhaps to be sure that she didn't needlessly put Draco's life at risk. He was just being a good father; that was all.

Then her fingers closed around the back of his hand and he started to think something else entirely.

"There!" she said, suddenly, and Lucius's concentration was broken.

She was pulling on him, hard, and Draco too, and they were bolting for a building across the street with barred windows on the first two floors.

"What if there are Inferii inside?" Draco said.

Lucius glanced back over his shoulder. A massive herd of the walking dead had started ambling their way.

"There's bound to be fewer in there than out here," said Granger. And she let go of Lucius just long enough to draw her wand, blasting the door of the building open without pulling it from the hinges. "Inside, but keep watch! Draco's right. This place could be full of them!"

Once they'd ducked into the building, Draco began warding the door, earning a tight look from Granger and a nod of approval from Lucius every time he used a dark spell to reinforce it. Granger headed for the stairs, wand drawn, and Lucius explored the rooms on ground level, finding a lot of blood splatter, but no other evidence of dark creatures about.

He returned to the room where Draco stood at one window, staring out warily through the bars as it became harder and harder to see, the pane fogged with so many bloody hand prints now that they blended together.

"Come away from there," Lucius said.

Just then, there was a clatter up above them, a scuffle of footsteps... and nothing. Lucius's gaze slid from the empty staircase to Draco who was, apparently entertaining the same thought.

"Granger," Draco called out. "Are you there?"

Nothing but silence.

"Granger!" he said again.

"Hermione," Lucius tried.

Still nothing.

"You're joking, right?" said Draco.

"About what?"

"Hermione? You called her Hermione?"

"That is her name, is it not?"

Draco scoffed. "Of course it's her name. Since when do you use it?"

"I thought she might answer to it."

"Oh, save the excuses," said Draco. "Do you honestly think I haven't seen the way you're shooting her puppy dog eyes every time she's in the room?"

"I don't even know what that means," Lucius said haughtily.

"You fancy a Muggleborn," said Draco, his chin thrust up in the air.

"I certainly do not," said Lucius. "And since when do you call them 'Muggleborns'?"

"Since... That doesn't matter. What do you suggest I call them?"

"Mu--" Lucius trailed off. He couldn't bring himself to say it. This was unbelievable. Their entire world was going to end and this bloody Granger woman was trying to force him to woo her in the face of it all.

Before Draco could gloat, however, a door slammed overhead and they both jumped, Lucius's heart leaping to his throat.

"If your Muggleborn girlfriend comes down those stairs as a zombie, I'm taking her head off," said Draco.

"She's not a--not my--Draco, would you just focus on the task at hand?"

Slow footsteps echoed from the hall at the top of the stairs and both men trained their wands on the staircase. Lucius swallowed hard. The footsteps began descending the stairs and his wand faltered just the littlest bit. Luckily, Draco was staring at their impending attacker with too much genuine horror to notice.

A body, a head of wild hair, came into view and then... darkness.

"What the--" Draco struggled out of the blanket that had been thrown over his head as Lucius neatly swept a similar one from his face and over his back.

"Hang those over the windows," said Hermione, as demanding as ever, bouncing down the stairs with a thick stack of blankets. "If they can't see our shadows moving around in here, maybe they'll go away."

"Right," said Lucius, or at least he thought he said it. What actually came out was more of a thin squeak.

"Mr Malfoy," said Hermione. "Are you all right?"

"My father was just worried about you," said Draco, the spoiled little snot.

Lucius cleared his throat and picked up his blanket off the floor. "You didn't answer when we called for you."

"Oh," she said, and he looked away as he began to drape the blanket over one of the tall windows. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear. I think I found a working fireplace on the second floor. It shouldn't be hard to set up a Floo Network connection there. We can--What's that sound?"

A high-pitched noise faded in and out from Lucius's vest pocket. He reached inside, frowning, and pulled out his pocket watch, then flipped it open.

"Lucius!" Thaddeus's voice was crisp and clear from the face of the watch. "What's your status?"

"Thaddeus? How on earth--"

"I always have an exit strategy, you're well aware of that. No time for this now! We need help."

Lucius shrugged. "Mad scientist," he whispered to Hermione. Then he addressed the watch. "Perhaps we can get a message to Theodore and Weasley."

"Not that kind of help," said Thaddeus. "Have you found us a connection to the Floo Network yet? There is someone we need to call on." He hissed a few inaudible words, then cleared his throat. "We need to speak with Antonin Dolohov immediately."

Lucius let out a long, irritated groan. "You're sure of this?"

"Yes. Mr Fletcher and my... daughter-in-law," he sounded as though he was choking on the words, "concur."

"Ah yes," said Lucius. "The fate of our world rests in the hands of the harlot and the Inferius whisperer. I'm feeling much better now."

"Dolohov has the key, Lucius," said Thaddeus. "I'm sure of it."

"Very well. We're in the building across the street. I believe it may have been an art gallery at one point, at least on the ground floor. Will you need cover?"

"Fletcher will lead us out," said Thaddeus. "You should have paid more attention to him, Lucius. He certainly has a way with them. And he did save your life in Azkaban."

"He told me he would never speak of that!" Lucius said indignantly. Behind him, Hermione made a small noise of amusement, then pressed a hand over her mouth. "Fine," he snarled. "Hurry along then. We haven't got all day." He snapped the pocket watch shut and turned to face Draco and Hermione.

"I believe it is time to get that Floo connection in order."

"Father, is he... dancing?"

Standing ready to let the others in once they reached the gallery Lucius peered through the window next to the door, staring at Fletcher in disbelief. The odd little man was standing between the Inferii and the others, sliding back and forth along the ground from one foot to the other and undulating his hips. But that was nothing compared with the reaction of the creatures. Their entire attention was focused on Mundungus as if he were some kind of god. It was horrific and yet... fascinating.

"I honestly don't know," he said, shaking his head.

At that moment, Hermione called to them from the fireplace, where she'd been setting up a floo connection, "Done! Let's go!"

With that, Draco threw open the door and Lucius stuck his head outside.

"Come on, then, Nott!" he called. "We haven't got all day!"

Thaddeus nodded and started to move with astonishing speed for his age, while Otto grabbed Tracey, who was staring at Fletcher with quite the same enthrallment as the Inferii. They filed into the room quickly and Lucius started to slam the door when he realized someone was missing. Mundungus was still out on the street, dancing for the Inferii while they watched him. He leapt and spun and rolled his hips in wide circles, and Lucius found himself staring for a few seconds too, until Hermione shouted down from the floo connection upstairs.

"Blast," he murmured, then he called out, "Fletcher!" but received no response. "Fletcher! Mundungus!" Still, Mundungus continued to dance. Lucius exhaled in defeat, then cried, "DUNG!"

That caught the little man's attention.

"I had no idea the two of you were so... familiar," said Thaddeus, looking all too satisfied with his quip as he headed up the stairs.

Lucius scowled, but at that moment Mundungus rushed into the room, and he and Lucius shut and bolted the door together.

"Fanks, mate," Mundungus said, panting as they followed Thaddeus up the stairs. "You an' me make a great team. Just like old times, eh?"

"Mmm, yes. If Azkaban was populated entirely by Goyles," Lucius said dryly.

"That's hardly a fair assessment, Lucius," said Thaddeus. "The younger Goyle actually shows some promise." At Lucius's raised eyebrow, he added, "Since the Ministry banned experimentation on house-elves, I've had to use a bit of ingenuity."

Lucius nodded in understanding.

"Well, that's what Goyles are for."

Dolohov granted them an audience almost immediately, presumably due to intercession on the part of his daughter. The only condition was that everyone was to be blindfolded and struck with a Confundus spell before portkey to Dolohov's location. Lucius wasn't sure how on earth they were supposed to find the portkeys after being confounded, but Granger seemed to think it would be no problem.

"He's terribly mysterious," Otto said to Mundungus in excitement as they headed to Granger's office where they would get the portkey. "I've heard his secret lair is on the North Pole and it's called the Fortress of Solitaire. And when the Minister needs his aid, he shines the image of an owl onto the night sky."

Mundungus shrugged. "'E can't be that brilliant. 'Ermione h'Obliviated 'im once."

"Really?" Otto gave Hermione an admiring look, and Lucius suddenly had several ideas for experiments that could be performed on Thaddeus's assistant. Maybe he'd suggest them to Thaddeus later when this present catastrophe was all a dim memory in the past.

Fifteen dizzy and confusing minutes later, they arrived at Dolohov's home--Lucius refused to refer to it as a lair for obvious reasons--and once Lucius removed his own blindfold, he reached to remove Hermione's, ignoring a pointed look from Draco, as well as Hermione's own half-knowing smirk. Of all the insufferable women... He shook his head. There were more important things at stake here.

"Theodore," Thaddeus said, as soon as he righted himself against the wall. "When did you arrive?"

"Ron and I came by broom," Theo said. He lowered his voice. "Antonin's all right, but he's... a bit paranoid. He actually confounded me the first time Tracey brought me here!"

"Imagine that," Lucius said dryly. He glanced at Mundungus, who was surreptitiously slipping a knicknack off the mantle into his pocket. As Hermione turned in Mundungus's direction, Lucius stepped between them smoothly, blocking her view.

It seemed that only Tracey was steady on her feet at the moment, and Lucius couldn't help but wonder if Dolohov had found a way to make his daughter impervious to Confundus. It was absurd, of course, but so were most of Thaddeus's experiments.

"Come along, all of you," she said with an air of annoyance. "You should know better than to keep my father waiting."

Mundungus shoved Theodore aside to assume his place next to Tracey.

"Me 'n' yer dad go way back," he said.

"Really?" Tracey said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Still, her lips twitched as if she were amused.

"Looks like you weren't the only Nott who had problems keeping his wife happy," Lucius murmured to Thaddeus.

"And you're one to talk," said Thaddeus sharply. "Last I heard, Narcissa has taken up with a Weasley, of all things."

Theodore cleared his throat loudly and glared at both men. Lucius noted that Draco was glaring, too. They reached the study then, and Tracey opened the doors.

"Father, we're here."

Dolohov smiled as he approached his daughter, his hands outstretched. He took both her hands in his and leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

"Hello, milochka," he said. "Gentlemen. How may I be of assistance?"

"Zombie apocalypse," said Weasley, speaking up for the first time in Lucius's recent memory. He'd almost blessedly forgotten the man's existence all together. "He started it." Weasley pointed a thumb at Thaddeus. "Apparently you can get us out of it."

Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped forward. "There's been some sort of outbreak in Bristol, killing the local residents and turning them into Inferii. We've been told that you may be able to provide us with help. The Ministry will duly reward you for pertinent information, Mr Dolohov. I can assure you that."

"Hmm." Dolohov steepled his fingers as he turned his attention to Lucius and Thaddeus.

"Wait for it," Thaddeus murmured to Lucius.

"It must so happens I can help you," Dolohov said, continuing as if he hadn't heard Thaddeus. "But... it will cost you."

"See?" Thaddeus hissed. "The fiend."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "'Cost us'?" he asked. "How?"

"Let us just say... you will 'owe me one'." Dolohov seemed thoroughly pleased with himself.

Before Lucius could respond, Mundungus butted in, "That's fine, Tony!" he said. "We agree, of course."

"Exactly what will be owed, Mr Dolohov?" asked Hermione, crossing her arms over her chest and taking another determined step forward. At this rate, she'd be standing on his toes in a moment.

Dolohov stiffened slighty as he turned his glance to Hermione and Lucius couldn't help but feel gleeful as he noted Dolohov's wariness towards her.

"A simple favor," Dolohov said. "At a future point in time. Nothing that would be too difficult or too... painful to pay." He returned his gaze to Lucius. "Are we agreed then?"

"Yes," Lucius said quickly. His pride would not allow him to let Hermione bail him out of this one. "We agree. Now, what is your solution?"

"We have a man," Dolohov said. "He comes up with the most ingenious gadgets. As it so happens, he has invented something he calls an 'Inferius Fixer'." He turned to Hermione. "We have been prepared for this eventuality for quite some time, Miss Granger. I am certain the Minister will vouch for my dependability."

Thaddeus made a huffing sound and rolled his eyes.

"You'd better be telling the truth, Mr Dolohov," Hermione said. "I'll have you know that I am capable of far worse things than a simple memory charm."

Lucius's smirk seemed to curl his lips of its own accord. Dolohov raised a brow, but Lucius could tell he was annoyed.

"I do not doubt that, Miss Granger," he said. "Please, everyone, follow me."

With that, he led them out of the room.

When they returned to Bristol, with Dolohov's device in hand, the decision was nearly unanimous. As they gazed down from a well-secured rooftop at the horde of Inferii below, every member of the group chose Mundungus Fletcher as the wizard to release the device.

"I think he really is an Inferius Whisperer, Uncle Tad," Otto whispered excitedly.

"Not now," said Thaddeus. His gaze was fixed intently on his son and the young man's wife, as if he was waiting for something, anticipating.

"I'll go with him," Tracey said then, and she stepped forward resolutely, batting her eyes at Mundungus in a manner that was at once seductive and horrifying. Theodore's shoulders slumped and he took on the posture of a Seeker who had lost the snitch to the opposing team.

"Yes," Thaddeus hissed, and he pumped his fist in the air.

Lucius glanced down at Hermione, who had a hand pressed to her mouth.

"Theo and I'll provide ground cover," Weasley said, interrupting Thaddeus's celebration.

"I'll go, too."

Lucius hadn't been expecting Draco to speak, and he whirled around, his mouth open to interject, but Weasley was there first.

"No, you won't. You're staying here--"

"Now just one moment, Weasley--" Lucius began.

"--where it's safe."

The entire group fell into silence. Only Hermione stood there smiling slightly, as if she'd known about this all along. Draco reached out and took Weasley's hands. Lucius thought he felt his breakfast rising to his throat.

"Father, stop gawking," Draco said, looking over his shoulder at Lucius. "This is the time for dramatic decisions." His gaze flicked over to Hermione, then back again, and he snorted. "No matter how distasteful."

Hermione glared back, but took, Lucius's arm. "Come along. We should give them some privacy."

Lucius grunted, but allowed her to drag him across the rooftop. He turned away so he wouldn't have to witness an actual kiss between his son and Weasley.

"The son and the wife," said Thaddeus, and if it hadn't been for Hermione's stilling arm on Lucius's wrist, he would have hexed his old friend's mouth off. "My goodness. Those Weasleys have nearly as much animal magnetism as Fletcher."

Beside them, Mundungus beamed.

"If I jump," Lucius murmured to Hermione, "do you suppose my death will be quick and painless?"

"It's more likely you'd come back to life as an Inferius down there," she said. "With your head hanging off at an odd angle and a broken leg dragging behind. Not very attractive, if you ask me."

"And I'm supposed to concern myself with what you find attractive?" said Lucius.

Hermione's smile spread across her face, and Lucius tucked his hands in his pockets to give them something to do, because the only alternative he could imagine was to touch her.

"I rather think you are," she said, then she turned back to the group. "We'll provide cover from up here. Are you ready, Mundungus?"

Mundungus was staring down at the street, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, hard. Lucius was sure the little man was going to run, but then Mundungus looked up and caught Tracey's eye. His chest puffed up and he suddenly seemed to grow a foot.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he said. He held out his arm to Tracey. "Madam."

"Take heart, mate," Weasley said, elbowing Theodore as they watched Tracey head for the fire escape with Mundungus. "I hear Pansy Parkinson's single these days."

"Shut it," Theodore said, but without heat. Lucius couldn't help but notice that Theodore seemed almost relieved.

"Ron," said Hermione, as he mounted his broom. "Be careful, would you?"

He shot her a grin that was apparently meant to be roguish and confident, but which Lucius thought looked as if he'd just attempted to swallow a grindylow, and Draco climbed onto the broom behind him.

"By Merlin's manhood," Lucius groaned, looking away demonstratively. He did, however, chance one more look over his shoulder as he watched his son take off and head for the alley across the road with Weasley, Theodore on his own broom behind them.

At least none of the Inferii seemed to be taking note of anything in the sky. He walked over to where Hermione stood, gripping the rail at the edge of the roof with white-knuckled fingers.

"Nervous?" he asked.

She took a heavy breath and stayed silent for a long moment.

"What do you think will happen to them?" she said finally. "After the device reverses the process. Will they go back to normal? Or with they be... dead? Dolohov never specified."

"I suppose I could ask Thaddeus," said Lucius, glancing back over his shoulder. "Though it appears he is still recovering from having to ask for Dolohov's help in the first place."

"I was wondering about that," she said. "What happened between the three of you, anyway?"

Lucius shook his head. "Thaddeus and Dolohov have a long and troubled history. Death Eaters can do more caterwauling than Narcissa's spellbook club." He lowered his voice as he looked away. "Which, in retrospect, was always more of a mead and gossip club."

Hermione made a soft sound of amusement. "I wonder if someone should warn Charlie about that."

"Hardly," said Lucius. "Let the boy figure it out on his own. If there's any intellectual activity going on in that massive, square-jawed head of his."

"You're a horrible man!" She batted his arm, but not very hard, and looked back down on the ground, to where Mundungus had just reached street level and was beginning to approach the horde. "This has to work," she said softly.

After a few breaths of hesitation, he reached down and covered her hand with his own.

The moment didn't last. The shriek that cut through the moaning din of the Inferii had them all racing to the far side of the roof, but it wasn't Tracey who had screamed. In fact, she and Mundungus seemed to be navigating the crowds quite easily as they moved to put the device in place. Hermione was the first to realize the scream had come from an Inferius down the alley, whose head had been nearly severed by a blast of light from Theodore's wand.

All around the safe area that Theodore, Draco and Weasley had created, Inferii were climbing over sandbags and rubbish bins to get to them.

"If your ex-husband gets my son killed," Lucius began, but Hermione cut him off.

"If your son's boyfriend gets your son killed," she said, "I will happily help you punish him, providing he hasn't lost his brains to those creatures as well. In the meantime, perhaps we should ensure that doesn't happen to either of them, or Theodore Nott by, oh, I don't know, rescuing them, maybe?"

Leave it to a friend of Potter's to simplify matters in the most recklessly heroic way possible, Lucius thought. Down below them, Draco managed to kick an Inferius back by the shoulder as he scrambled up a pile of refuse. Lucius sighed.

"Very well. I suppose we'll need a broom." He looked around the rooftop. That could be a problem.

"Nonsense," said Hermione. "All we need is ingenuity. Follow me." And she rushed toward the door that led back into the building.

"I'm beginning to like the way she thinks," Thaddeus quipped as Lucius swept past him. "Perhaps you should hold onto her after all."

Lucius cast a dark look over his shoulder.

Thaddeus shrugged. "Merely a suggestion," he said. "Owen and I will remain here. 'Holding down the fort' as Muggles are so fond of saying."

At that moment, an owl arrived and landed on Otto's arm. Otto untied the small package from its foot and enlarged it to reveal a cup of coffee in a beverage tray.

"Here's your double caramel orange mocha, Uncle Tad," he said.

"Really?" said Lucius, raising an eyebrow.

Thaddeus raised the drink to his nose and inhaled slowly. "It very well may be my final beverage," he said. "The dawn of the apocalypse does not necessitate that I become an ascetic."

"Lucius!" Hermione called from down the stairwell, and he closed his mouth, shook his head, and followed the sound of her voice.

"What's wrong?" he called, trying to keep the panic out of his voice as he hurried down the stairs.

She looked up from her position by the window as he reached the bottom. "You've got to see this."

Lucius joined her, rubbing imaginary dirt from the pane before pressing his face to it. Dung was out there doing his odd little dance again, apparently attempting to herd the horde of undead into a dead-end, while they swayed in unison, their heads tilted as if listening to a tune only they could hear.

"Horrific, isn't it?" he said. He wasn't talking about the Inferii.

"Actually, I thought it was rather amazing," she said. "Anyway, look down there," she pointed toward the other end of the alley, where a group of Inferii were filing down in a clump toward Draco and the others. "If we could funnel them out of the alley, contain them somehow, they'd have a fighting chance to get to safety. By then Mundungus should have the device and--where are you going?"

Lucius looked back over his shoulder. "I'm saving my son, whilst you stay here and talk the plan to death."

"But I didn't tell you the rest of the plan," she said, chasing after him.

"You didn't have to," said Lucius, and as they reached the end of the hallway, he raised his wand and blasted a hole in the wall. He turned to her, smirked, then stepped into clear view of the Inferii in the alleyway. "Fresh meat," he said, a devious glint in his eye.

"Well, that was impetuous," Hermione said under her breath, though it was loud enough that he did not miss the faint note of approval in her voice.

So that was how one won the heart of a Gryffindor. Interesting. Not that Lucius was the one doing the pursuing, of course. It was she who was all over him.

"Just be careful," Hermione called after him.

"Now where's the fun in that?" he asked.

"Fun," she said. "Right, we're here to have fun."

The Inferii were starting to climb into the building and Lucius felt a flare of dangerous anticipation that he hadn't felt in years. He remembered why this sort of thing used to be fun. Of course, he'd generally been on the other side then. The thrill of it now was even better.

"Hungry, you mindless fools?" he said, and now the Inferii had noticed him, and were clambering through the hole in the wall with more purpose. He started to move backward down the hall.

"Hermione, on my signal, cast reducto on the ceiling right there." He nodded to a space between them. "Seal them in."

"With you? No!" she said.

"I can assure you I'll be fine," he said.

Just then, something tugged at his ankle and he looked down to see an Inferius crawling across the floor, gripping the cuff of his pants. Before his wand was drawn, a blast from Hermione sent it rolling down the pile of rubble, but it never made it out to the alley. The press of undead bodies spilling into the hallway was growing thicker now, and they pushed the Inferius back inside with them. Lucius started to move backward. Hermione grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the end of the hallway.

"We can't allow them access to the roof," he said. "Thaddeus needs to activate the device from there."

"I know," she said. "That's why I'm doing this." Then she did blast a hole in the ceiling, but it was behind them, and the cave-in sealed off the only door that could provide them with a means of escape.

"Is that all of them?" she asked. "Can you see?"

Without letting go of her wrist--and he only just now realized that he'd grabbed back when she'd taken hold of him earlier--he edged his way toward the opening.

"There are only a few stragglers left in the alley," he said.

"Enough for two Aurors and Draco to take down?" she said.

"Let us hope," said Lucius, and with a blast of light from his wand, the gaping hole in the wall was sealed. Without a moment's hesitation, the Inferii turned and started ambling for them.

It was both grotesque and oddly compelling, much like watching Dung's odd little Inferius dance. Lucius couldn't look away. And then one of them tripped on some piece of debris and pitched forward, falling toward them. Hermione screamed and raised her wand, but she never fired a hex.

Lucius wrapped his arms around her and promptly Disapparated them.

When they reappeared on the roof, the first thing they heard was Ron Weasley's whoop of triumph from the street down below, and then, slowly, the low rumble of moaning Inferii turned into the soft, confused sound of Muggles coming back into their right minds, and presumably non-decaying bodies. They'd done it. They'd got the device to work.

Now Lucius was standing on a rooftop in Bristol with Hermione Granger in his arms. And he didn't seem to mind it at all. She was looking up at him, and she licked her lips.

"We should probably let all of those people out of the hallway downstairs," she said.

"Eventually," he said softly.

She nodded. "Eventually." She pressed her lips together for a moment. "Thank you for saving my life."

"And you for saving mine," he said.

"Are you going to kiss me now?" she asked. "Or is there more witty repartee to come?"

The corner of his mouth curled up. "I think it's time we get on with the kissing."

So they did.

As romantic endings go, standing on a rooftop in the midst of a recently thwarted zombie apocalypse was not everything Lucius would have hoped for. Not that Lucius was the one looking for the romantic ending in all this, but he reckoned that someone ought to be, and Hermione Granger obviously wasn't the type to give any credence that sort of thing. Though he did, with some degree of satisfaction, catch what might have been a besotted look in her eyes as he broke the kiss.

Thaddeus coughed into his hand and looked away, but his nephew stared with his mouth agape.

"Oh, do make yourself useful, Owen," Lucius snapped.

"Otto--" Thaddeus began to correct. Then he frowned. "No," he said thoughtfully, "Owen is correct."

Just then, several pops of Apparition sounded and Theodore, Draco, and Weasley appeared on the rooftop, Theodore shaking his head as Draco and Weasley appeared to comfort him.

"It's all right, mate," said Weasley. "You can do better anyway."

A quick glance down to the street revealed Tracey wrapping herself around Mundungus, their lips locked together in a display more grotesque than any of the little man's Inferius dances had been. Lucius grimaced, and glanced at Hermione, who had a hand pressed over her mouth. Her expression was half horror, half forced amusement. If Thaddeus could turn cartwheels, Lucius was certain he would have demonstrated at that moment.

"You know, Pansy's been asking about you," Draco added helpfully.

Theodore seemed to perk up somewhat. "She has?"

"Yeah," said Draco. "Just the other day. She asked me if you were still married. She seemed disappointed when I said yes."

"See!" said Weasley. "The pug's hot for--ow!" He rubbed the arm where Draco had just elbowed him. "Pansy Parkinson's a great girl! You should really get to know her better."

Lucius sighed. "Gentlemen, need I remind you we still have a rather large problem here. Ms Granger, I don't suppose the Obliviation Department would be willing--"

"Not necessary," said Thaddeus, holding what appeared to be a large silver wand with a bulb at the top that was beginning to open like petals.

Owen began handing out sunglasses. Hermione took a pair and shrugged at Lucius, who hesitated.

"Believe me," said Owen, "you'll want these." Then he added in an exaggerated whisper, "He saw this in a film once, too!"

Hermione smiled up at Lucius. "Far stranger things have happened today," she said, and she slipped the sunglasses is on.

As Thaddeus raised the metal wand at the edge of the rooftop, Lucius put his on as well, and with his free hand, reached down to take hold of Hermione's.

"There," said Lucius, nodding in satisfaction as he finished the manuscript. "Not a single word in it that does not meet your implacable standards."

Hermione sighed and slid into his lap. "I don't know why I put up with you," she said.

"You have a hero fetish," said Lucius.

"Clearly." She pursed her lips together in mock annoyance, but leaned in to kiss him anyway. "So, the next step is to find a publisher and create a new fortune from book royalties?"

"Something like that," said Lucius.

"However will I deal with no longer being the sole breadwinner in the household?"

"I suppose you'll survive," Lucius said, arching a brow.

Hermione smiled. "I suppose I will. Until Thaddeus's next exploit puts all our lives in danger."

"Luckily we've assembled quite the team," said Lucius. "I'd say it's a group capable of handling nearly any mass disaster."

"Yes, well, let's not put that theory to the test, shall we?"

"Hermione," said Lucius, and he brushed her hair back off her shoulder. "Don't you know? The real fortune is to be made in sequels."

[END]