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Lucius flicked his wand to light the lamps in the manor’s solarium, where he always took his breakfast. The first rays of sunlight were just starting to flicker through the trees at the edge of the Malfoy estate as he opened the Daily Prophet and poured himself some tea.
Lucius Malfoy had always considered himself a morning person. Ever since becoming Lord of the Manor at age 24, his routine had remained the same; he would dress for the day, perform his hair charms, and arrive in the solarium for breakfast by precisely 6:15. He would have his first cup of tea while reading the economics section of the Daily Prophet, then his second cup of tea while reading the politics section. When Narcissa arrived around 7, she would read the society pages and they would serve themselves breakfast while Lucius would move on to reading about world news. The only deviation from this routine had been during his brief stay in Azkaban.
Even the presence of the Dark Lord in his home had not kept Lucius from his perfect morning.
Narcissa joined him at the usual time. Lucius wordlessly passed her the society pages, and began to serve himself the eggs, toast, sausages, and fruit that had been under stasis.
When Lucius was halfway through an article on the Goblin riots in Belgium, the loud pop of a house elf interrupted the serenity.
“Mistress Astoria is drowning in the west pond.” The elf announced.
Lucius’ eyes didn’t stray from his newspaper.
Narcissa pinched her lips together in distaste and took a small sip of tea.
She placed the teacup on the saucer before responding.
“Thank you, Zinkey, you may go.”
The elf popped away.
“Draco will be upset.” Narcissa mused.
Lucius sighed and put down his paper. “Draco will be fine.”
“If you say so, dear.” Narcissa picked up the society pages and continued drinking her tea.
Breakfast thoroughly disturbed, Lucius retreated to his study to begin his business for the day. Fifteen minutes later, a waterlogged Draco stormed into the room.
“My wife nearly drowned in the west pond this morning,” Draco seethed.
"You are dripping on my Ziegler Mahal.”
“My. wife. nearly. drowned. this. morning.” Draco hissed through clenched teeth. “You remember, Astoria, the woman you instructed me to marry? The woman who bore your grandson?”
“Squib grandson. That hardly counts. Did she float? I admit I am somewhat curious since she is practically a squib herself.”
Draco let out a growl of frustration and stomped out of the room.
Lucius sighed deeply after his son left. Draco had always been a melodramatic boy. Lucius remembered how he would receive letter after letter from the child while he was at school, expecting him to fix every minor inconvenience.
Father, a hippogriff attacked me and nearly broke my arm. Can you have it executed?
Father, the mudblood girl punched me. Can you have her expelled?
Father, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher turned me into a ferret. Can you have him sacked?
Lucius was sure he got it from Narcissa’s side of the family. The Blacks were such emotional creatures. Thankfully, his wife had not inherited that particular trait.
Astoria spent the rest of the morning in bed, her squib son curled up next to her, with Draco catering to their every need like a house elf.
“More tea, darling? Here you are. And I brought you some shortbread biscuits as well, your favourite. I have some applesauce and mashed carrots for Scorp. Zinkey is making a potato soup for lunch, does that sound nice? Here, let me just adjust your pillows so you don’t spill the tea. Sit up, darling, let me just… there you go. Are you warm enough? I can get you another blanket if you’d like. No? Alright then, but let me know if you start to feel chilled. There is a horrible draught coming from that window. Maybe I can get Zinkey to adjust the wards. This chill can’t be good for you. I’ll make you some more pepper-up this afternoon. Come on then Scorp, let's have some applesauce and let your mother drink her tea.”
Lucius watched Draco pull his son into his lap and began to feed him spoonfuls of applesauce. He nearly gagged as the small boy gummily smiled and applesauce dribbled down his chin.
Lucius turned away so he didn’t have to watch, and instead observed as his daughter-in-law repeatedly tried and failed to vanish the shortbread crumbs that had fallen on the bed. Finally she gave up and brushed them onto the floor.
“Miss Greengrass,” Lucius began, glaring at the crumbs.
“Mrs. Malfoy, Father.” Draco hissed.
Lucius waved him away. “I understand you had a swim in our west pond this morning.”
“Yes, sir.” Astoria whispered. She shakily lifted the teacup and saucer to her lips, spilling the hot liquid down the front of her satin nightdress.
Draco rushed to her side and performed a weak drying charm. After his third try casting the charm, the nightdress seemed adequately dry and Draco returned to feeding his son.
“Miss Greengrass,” Lucius ploughed on, once again ignoring Draco’s protest, “do you remember why you decided to swim in our west pond this morning?”
“I don’t remember deciding to swim in the pond. I must have been sleepwalking. I woke up just as Draco pulled me out.” She gazed at Draco with a beatific smile.
Draco gave her a soppy grin and reached for her hand. “We are just glad you are alright.”
“Quite," said Lucius tightly. "You are sure you do not remember anything that was out of the ordinary about this morning, or last night perhaps?”
“No, I don’t think so. Other than waking up in the pond. That was certainly out of the ordinary.”
Satisfied, Lucius nodded stiffly to Draco and swept out of the room.
The rest of the Greengrasses arrived before tea. Lady Greengrass swept in with the arrogant dignity of a proper pureblood wife.
The elder Greengrass daughter, Diana, or Delphine, perhaps, appeared behind her mother looking haughty and sturdy, both very good traits in a daughter-in-law, in Lucius’ opinion.
She cleaned the floo dust from her robes with a flick of her wand, and Lucius almost groaned with the injustice of it all.
“Is this Greengrass girl available?” He whispered to his wife while the guests gave Zinkey their hats and outer robes.
“Engaged to Graham Montague. The wedding is in April.”
“Pity.”
Lucius escorted them to the drawing room, and called for Zinkey to fetch Draco and Astoria.
Draco had barely settled Astoria into a chaise when her older sister started whining.
“I can’t believe you drowned yourself on my birthday, Tori! I was supposed to catch a portkey to Majorca with Millie and Tracey. Now they are going to be there without me and I can’t go until tomorrow! Everything is always about you and your health and I’m sick of it!”
“Daphne, that’s enough. Astoria has a fragile constitution,” Lady Greengrass interrupted.
“I’m sorry Daph, I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday. I was sleepwalking and I must have fallen in the pond by mistake.”
“That’s very strange, darling, it's quite a long way to walk and you’ve never been prone to sleepwalking before. How did this come about?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve been very tired recently. It’s odd because Scorp has been sleeping much better these last few months. I’m just sleepy all of the time.” Astoria yawned as if to prove her point.
“I’m tired too, you know. The wedding planning has me up till all hours. There is so much to arrange. Do you know the flowers are being imported from…”
“Daphne, be quiet!” Lady Greengrass said sharply. “Astoria, you are over-taxing yourself. You must let the house elves help with the baby. That is what they are for!”
“Oh, it is no bother. The house elves do help, but he is such a sweet baby and Draco and I like doing some things ourselves.”
“That is very unnatural, since he is a squib. The parental bonds won’t have formed correctly.” Lucius commented.
No one spoke for several minutes until Narcissa broke the silence.
“Lucius, I’m sure you have work to do. There is no need for you to stay here and entertain us.”
Lucius bid the ladies and Draco a good afternoon and returned to his study.
It took two weeks for Astoria to properly drown. It was a Tuesday, early afternoon, and Draco had gone into the ministry to file some paperwork when Zinkey popped into Lucius’ study.
“Mistress Astoria has drowned in the west pond.”
“Has drowned? Not is drowning?”
“Yes. She has perished.” Zinkey clarified.
“Thank you, Zinkey, that will be all.” Lucius put away his reading and went to find Narcissa. They would need to find Draco a new wife.
Lucius wasn’t sure why all of the Greengrasses needed to be present for breakfast. It was undoubtedly too early for him to play host, and besides, they weren’t technically Draco’s in-laws anymore. Not to mention that they seemed hardly fit for polite company with their incessant sniffling and blotchy, red faces. Still, he felt he had done an admirable job welcoming them. He had shown them to the solarium where Zinkey had produced a perfectly nice breakfast.
Despite the disruption to his routine, he had been able to finish the financial section of the Prophet and had just moved on to the politics section when an unshaven and thoroughly dishevelled Draco appeared in the doorway with the baby.
"Lady Greengrass, Daphne. I didn't realise you were joining us. I apologise, I'm not in much of a state to welcome you."
Draco's eyes were red and it looked like he hadn't slept. The child was restless and whimpering in his arms.
"Draco, think nothing of it. And Scorpius, you poor dears." Lady Greengrass swept over to take the baby and Draco slumped into a chair across from his mother.
Narcissa called for Zinkey, who brought a plate of eggs, sausage, and toast for Draco and a variety of mashed food items for the child.
Lucius folded his paper and stood up to retire to his study before he had to witness the child attempting to eat again. He tapped Draco’s chair with his cane on his way out.
“Stop slouching, Draco. You look ill-bred.”
Aurors McLaggan and Bole arrived mid-morning, and Zinkey led them into the sitting room where the Malfoys and Greengrasses were already assembled.
“It’s just a formality, really. You say the deceased had been known to sleepwalk?”
“Yes,” answered Lucius, just as Lady Greengrass answered “No.”
“She would often sleepwalk around the manor.”
“She never used to sleepwalk at home.”
"Likely a side effect of moving to a new home," Auror McLaggan said with an air of authority.
“This wasn't a new home, she’d been married for three years.”
“The fact is,” Lucius said, “she had been known to sleepwalk around the manor, and she was also prone to fall asleep at any time of the day or night.”
Auror McLaggan took down this information, nodding. “Death by misadventure.”
Lady Greengrass was getting agitated. “She almost drowned several weeks ago. Didn’t you have someone watching her?”
“Draco watched her.” Continuously , Lucius thought, but did not say aloud.
“And what about when he was away, couldn’t one of the elves have checked on her?”
“I assure you, our elves are busy enough without us having to task them with watching adult women sleep.”
“Well, I think that’s all we need. Seems pretty open and shut, really.” McLaggan closed his notebook and rose from his chair. “We’ll be off then, wizarding world won’t protect itself.” He winked at Daphne, who sneered at him. “Let us know if anyone else dies.”
"Why are we even talking about this? I'm still in mourning." Draco reclined on the chaise in Lucius' office. His black suit was rumpled, and there appeared to be some baby sick, or worse, on his sleeve.
"It's been four months. How long are you going to mope about it?"
"I'm not ready to remarry. I may never remarry."
"Don't be dramatic. Of course you'll remarry."
"I loved her, you know. I know it was arranged, and there was no guarantee that we would even like each other, but I did love her. From the moment I saw her sweet smile."
Draco sniffled into his handkerchief. He had been doing that a lot lately. Perhaps his sentimental declaration was due to a long lasting illness? Or dehydration? Either way, Lucius' usual tactic of demanding that Draco do as he said did not seem to be working as well as it usually did.
He decided to take another approach.
"Scorpius needs a mother."
It was the first time Lucius had said the squib boy's name out loud since they had learned that he was born without magic. It seemed to have the desired effect. Draco straightened up and thought about it for a while before nodding sharply.
"Of course, you're right, Father. Scorp needs a mother."
“What about that Parkinson girl? She isn’t too closely related to you. Well, her father’s mother was a Black, but isn’t her mother foreign?”
“Oh, yes, I believe Leena Parkinson was born in Europe. I can’t quite recall where. Why not marry Pansy, darling? You were so well suited during school,” Narcissa implored.
“I’d rather die than ask Pans to marry me. She would laugh in my face.” Draco grimaced. “Besides, she is dating Ginevra Weasley.”
“Is she really ?” Narcissa’s voice dropped half an octave, as it always did when she learned a delicious piece of new gossip. “No wonder Leena is having such trouble getting her to sign a marriage contract with the Flints.”
“What about Garrett Fawley’s girl. Leanne?”
“I don’t think she would marry me either. She was best friends with Katie Bell at Hogwarts and is still angry with me for giving Katie that cursed jewellery.”
“That was hardly your fault. If the stupid girl hadn’t touched the necklace she would have been fine.”
Draco married Eloise Midgen in a lovely, small ceremony held in Narcissa’s rose gardens. The bride’s nose was slightly off centre, but Lucius was assured by Mr. Midgen that it was an accident and not a family trait, and really, as long as she was a pureblood, Lucius was not in a position to be picky.
Eloise gave birth a year later to a dark-haired little boy.
“His name is Roger. After… my good friend Roger.” The girl announced.
Lucius decided that perhaps he was in a position to be a little picky.
Draco beamed at the wailing child, seemingly unbothered that his wife’s son was not his own.
Aurors McLaggan and Bole arrived at the manor the morning after the incident.
"Turned to stone, really? I say, you don't see that every day!"
"Yes, we aren't sure what did it, but there are any number of cursed objects in the crypts. Perfectly legal, you know. We had them registered and the paperwork is up to date. It's just a shame Eloise went down there by herself. I would have been happy to give her a tour had I known she was interested."
"Hmm, looks like a basilisk's work to me. I've seen it before, you know. Looked just like this. Could have slithered in and slithered out of your pipes and no one would be the wiser. What do you think, Bole?"
"Er, yeah, looks like those mudblo… er… muggleborns that were turned to stone back at school."
Lucius quickly schooled his features and nodded solemnly. "I'll leave it to your professional opinion."
"For goodness sake, is everyone completely incompetent?" shrieked a distraught Mrs. Midgen. "She isn't petrified, she's turned to stone! This isn't going to be fixed with a restorative potion!"
"Madam, I know you're upset but I'm going to have to ask you to settle down."
"I will not settle down! My Eloise is dead and it's your fault!" Mrs. Midgen shoved a finger into Lucius' face.
"Now, now. You don't want to go throwing around baseless accusations when you are angry. You'll realise what you've said later and regret it, I've seen it a thousand times." McLaggan took the hysterical woman by the arm and led her out of the room, shooting Lucius a sympathetic look as he left.
Pleased, Lucius retired to his study. He couldn't have gotten a better set of Aurors if he had bribed them.
"Why is that child still here?"
"You mean my son?"
"He isn't your son!"
"Of course he is! You were there when I signed the adoption papers. Besides, Roger Davies is a total hedonist and a playboy and I can't have little Rodgie growing up in that sort of environment."
“What about Roderick Vane’s girl, Rolanda?”
“Romilda. Really Lucius, the Vanes as in-laws. Can you imagine?”
“The Patils have two daughters, don’t they?”
“Hmm, yes, but the Gryffindor one is already married and the Ravenclaw one is working on an Arithmancy mastery in Zagreb.”
“What does she need with an Arithmancy mastery? Surely she could be persuaded to give it up to become the next Lady Malfoy.”
“Somehow I think that is unlikely.”
Lucius had nearly run out of ideas. Had Severus been alive, Lucius could have written to him to request a list of all of the eligible pureblood fifth through seventh year students, but the new head of Slytherin, Aurora Sinistra, had not taken kindly to Lucius’ attempts to maintain a friendly correspondence.
Draco’s third wife, a Goyle cousin, proved to be a mistake when during the wedding reception she announced loudly to a nosy octogenarian that, no she wouldn’t be producing the next Malfoy heir, because she was, in fact, no longer in possession of a uterus.
“A stray curse during the war, you know how it is. Just overloaded with dark magic. Had to have it completely removed. Spent two months in St. Mungo’s, it shocked the healers, they said I’d be there for three at least but I have a hearty constitution." Lucius' newest daughter-in-law's booming laugh reverberated off the walls of the ballroom, ensuring that everyone would hear her next words. "No children for me, not that it matters much, Draco already has two.”
“Did you know about this?” Lucius hissed to Narcissa.
Narcissa sipped her champagne and did not answer.
“Draco already has two,” Lucius mimicked his newest daughter-in-law in a high-pitched voice that even he had to admit sounded nothing like the girl. “I beg to differ.”
Lucius was enjoying his breakfast a month later, the morning after the happy couple had returned from their honeymoon, when Zinkey appeared with a loud pop.
“Mistress Henrietta was bitten by a viper overnight and has died.” Zinkey announced.
“How unfortunate. Has the snake been found and contained?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Thank you Zinkey, you may go.”
The elf left with a pop.
Lucius finished the article on the regulation negotiations with MACUSA on class C non-tradeable potion ingredients, then put down his paper.
“It must have slipped into their luggage somehow. Brazil has so many venomous snakes.”
Narcissa gave him an inscrutable look. “Undoubtedly.”
Aurors McLaggan and Bole showed up to investigate the next day.
“We had just returned from our honeymoon in Brazil.” Draco wailed. “We were only married a month, but she was so good with my boys."
Auror McLaggan tapped his notebook thoughtfully. "Brazil, you said. Lots of poisonous snakes there. Probably snuck into your luggage."
"Bad luck, mate." Auror Bole slapped Draco on the back as if he had just lost a game of quidditch.
The Lovegood girl didn’t make it five minutes into the elaborate engagement luncheon in the gardens before she announced that the manor had an even more threatening energy than when she had been imprisoned in it during the war. When Lucius scoffed at the absurdity of the statement she noted that Lucius’ aura in particular was an unpleasant, dark red.
She apologised to Draco, broke off the engagement, and disapparated without greeting a single guest.
Scorpius’ 5th birthday party was a larger affair than Lucius felt was strictly necessary.
Draco had decided to throw a muggle themed party, so a number of bizarre objects littered the manor grounds.
There was a pit filled with plastic balls, a man twisting balloons into odd shapes, a petting zoo filled with horses and goats (not a unicorn or niffler in sight!) and some garish monstrosity that Draco called a “bouncy castle” had been put up as the main feature.
Rather than an elegant banquet catered and served by house elves, Draco had decided to have outdoor food stands, where guests had to watch their food being cooked and then eat it standing up.
Worst of all were the guests themselves. It seemed half of Wizarding Britain was invited to the boy’s party. Not only did the Greengrasses, Midgens, and Goyles all show up for Merlin knew what reason, but apparently Miss Parkinson’s association with the youngest Weasley girl meant that the entire brood of red-headed menaces were now on friendly enough terms with his son that they were invited to his child’s birthday party.
It also meant that Lucius could not step onto the manor grounds without seeing a Weasley eating some sort of meat on a stick.
It was all extremely unpleasant.
Lucius would have avoided the whole affair if he hadn’t been desperate to find Draco a new wife. Unfortunately, the guests had been encouraged to wear muggle costumes, which made it difficult to tell the purebloods from the riff-raff.
He had taken to stopping any woman he saw to question them about their blood status, but all it had gotten him were several nasty looks.
He had just noticed Draco in an animated conversation with Miss Granger, who had arrived with the Weasley girl and Miss Parkinson, and who had apparently just returned to England after years of travelling abroad. Draco hadn't looked this lively since his first wife had died, and Lucius rushed off to find a way to distract him.
As he passed the long line for meat-on-a-stick he heard the unmistakable, deep voice of Gregory Goyle.
"...a snakebite, they said. Brought some sort of viper back from Brazil."
"Were they staying in the wilderness?" Mrs. Midgen asked.
"No, a swanky hotel in Rio de Janeiro."
"It's so odd that the international portkey office wouldn't have caught that. They've been so careful about checking luggage since the war."
Lucius hurried away and cast a quick slicing hex at the bouncy castle. The castle deflated quickly, and in the ensuing chaos the conversation between Gregory and Mrs. Midgen was cut short. Draco and Miss Granger, however, were nowhere to be seen.
The party was winding down and Lucius had made no progress on finding Draco a new wife.
Miss Parkinson, Miss Weasley, and Miss Granger had joined Lady Greengrass, Narcissa, Draco, and the boys in the gardens.
The children were both extremely fussy, and Draco was failing miserably at keeping them entertained.
Lucius was about to insist that Draco have the elves take the children to bed when Miss Granger conjured a swarm of butterflies that followed the boys around and landed softly on their heads and shoulders.
The children, Narcissa, Lady Greengrass and Draco gaped at Miss Granger.
"What's wrong?"
"They just aren't used to seeing such beautiful magic." Miss Parkinson told her.
"What do you mean? This was just a little charm."
The Weasley girl scoffed. "Surely you've realised most of the Sacred Twenty-eight are so inbred that they're practically squibs."
“But Draco always did so well in school, I've definitely seen him cast spells. And Bellatrix tortured me, she wasn't a squib."
Draco looked embarrassed. "We aren't squibs really, but Black and Malfoy family magic tends to favour the darker curses, malevolent jinxes and unforgivables. It's emotional magic. I'm pants at practical spells and transfiguration, but I made up for it in school by doing well on essays. Plus runes, potions, herbology and arithmancy don't require much spellcasting, so we generally can hide it pretty well."
"So none of you can just do any spell you'd like? Like this, for example," she flicked her wand and the garden was filled with colourful bubbles of all sizes.
The little boys shrieked with glee and chased after the bubbles.
Draco was looking at Miss Granger the way that Bellatrix had looked at the Dark Lord, and Lucius knew he needed to put an end to the evening. He called for Zinkey.
The house elf appeared.
"Take the boys to bed. It is time for our guests to leave."
By breakfast the next morning, Lucius was in a state.
“A squib, a bastard, and a halfblood. What would my father say?”
“They aren’t even seeing each other, Lucius.”
“I can see which way the wind is blowing. That boy is infatuated.”
“But Miss Granger is not. Draco will need to convince her and I’m not certain that he can, given their histories.”
“He is a Malfoy, she should be begging him to propose. She will be begging him to propose within the month. Mark my words.”
“If you say so, dear.”
“I do say so, and I won’t put up with it. He won’t listen to reason, and it is getting harder and harder to find a proper, pureblood woman to agree to marry him.”
“Maybe if you stopped killing his wives it would be easier to find replacements.”
Lucius sputtered at the implication. Accusations of murder were not something to be said out loud, and certainly not over breakfast.
“I’m finished with this conversation, Lucius. You have brought this upon yourself. If Draco can convince Miss Granger to marry and have children with him then you will in all likelihood have a magically powerful, legitimate heir to the Malfoy line. If the child happens to be a halfblood, well, it will only take a few generations for that fact to be forgotten.”
“That is not how it works, Narcissa, and you know it. Half-bloods don’t have any compunctions about marrying other half-bloods or mudbloods. If we allow this to happen the Malfoy line will never be pure again.”
“My family line has practically died out, and I find that I don’t care very much about yours.”
“You don’t mean that. You are a Malfoy now, Draco is a Malfoy. You’ve cared about this since we were children, we both have. We have to protect our heritage.”
Narcissa leaned over the breakfast table and hissed in Lucius’ face. “If you persist in ruining Draco’s life you will regret it. I will make sure of that.”
“Someone has to consider the Malfoy family name, and I will do it with or without your support.”
Despite his annoyance with Narcissa, Lucius had to admit that she might have been right about the girl not being interested. Several months had passed and he had not seen the mudblood once.
That was until Lucius arrived at breakfast one morning to find Miss Granger sitting in the solarium, reading his newspaper and dressed in Draco's loungewear. She appeared to be eating toast with something brown and gooey on it, and she turned the page of the Prophet with her sticky fingers before acknowledging him.
"Draco's having a lie-in, but I like to start my day early. Peanut butter? I developed a taste for it during my travels." She offered Lucius a jar of the brown stuff.
"I'll pass." Lucius sniffed.
Miss Granger became a semi-regular nuisance at Lucius' breakfast table. She would always arrive in the solarium before Lucius, so by the time he came downstairs she had already gotten her sticky peanut fingerprints all over his Daily Prophet. She would often scoff derisively at the contents of the political section, and her horrendous opinions gave him a stress headache.
Draco and the two children began joining them for breakfast as well. Miss Granger would spread her peanut concoction on toast for the squib boy, while Draco would make a plate of fruit and eggs for the dark-haired bastard.
The children were noisy and messy, and Lucius would retire to his study shortly after they arrived.
Never in Lucius' life had his morning routine been so thoroughly and regularly disturbed. It was more than he should be expected to put up with.
On a Saturday morning, a few weeks after she had first appeared at his breakfast table, Miss Granger fell to the floor, convulsing.
“Hermione, what’s wrong!” Narcissa leapt to her feet and rushed to the girl’s side.
“P...p...poison.”
“Zinkey!”
The elf appeared.
“Get Draco, tell him Miss Granger has been poisoned and we need an antidote quickly.”
The elf disappeared.
“B..b..bezoar. Bag.” Miss Granger choked.
Narcissa found Miss Granger’s beaded bag, pulled out the bezoar and shoved it down her throat.
Zinkey appeared with Draco, who had evidently shoved his whole stock of potions into a large bag.
“She’s fine, she had a bezoar with her.”
“That’s my girl.” Draco kissed her damp forehead.
The Aurors arrived less than an hour later. Lucius groaned when Harry Potter and the youngest Weasley boy stepped into the room.
"Where are McLaggan and Bode?"
"Lounging in the break room as usual, I assume. We heard Hermione had been poisoned and came right over."
Lucius did not like the way this was heading.
"I've read that people can have strong allergic reactions to peanuts. Maybe that's what it was."
"Don't be stupid, 'Mione eats that stuff by the bucket load," said the Weasley.
"An overdose then."
"I don't think it works that way."
Lucius missed McLaggan and Bode.
"Maybe an enemy, she must have lots of enemies."
"Yes, she does." The Weasley boy narrowed his eyes at Lucius. "We'll ask the questions now, Mr. Malfoy, if you don't mind."
Hermione was already seated in the solarium when Lucius arrived for breakfast the next morning.
She passed him the politics section of the Daily Prophet without comment. He preferred to start with the economics section, but it appeared she had already gotten peanut butter all over it.
Narcissa arrived a short while later, and Lucius served himself his usual eggs, sausage, and toast.
He had just finished his sausage when he started to feel nauseous. The hand holding his tea started shaking and the hot liquid splashed down his front. He grabbed for his cane to pull out his wand to dry himself, but he misjudged the distance and toppled out of his chair.
"What's wrong with you, Lucius?" Narcissa barely glanced at him from over the society pages.
"I camph moof," his tongue felt too thick in his mouth.
"Hermione, dear, do you have a bezoar?"
"I'm afraid I used my last one yesterday."
"That is a shame."
Lucius shook violently. Bile filled his mouth and dribbled onto the floor.
He vaguely registered the smell of peanuts before drifting into unconsciousness.
McLaggan looked down at the body. "Peanut allergy, you say?"
Narcissa patted her eyes delicately with her handkerchief, "We didn't realise he was allergic, and unfortunately it can be deadly."
"Ah, yes, I can see that." McLaggan wrote that in his notebook. "What a shame. He was a good chap."