𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓖𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 || 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

Chapter 21 - Games

Bathed in green flame, Lucius, Draco and Ophelia emerged from the grand fireplace in the minister's grand entrance hall. Stepping off the marble hearth Ophelia's eyes couldn't help but slither up the walls, ceilings along the intricate mouldings and marble pillars. It was the closest thing to a palace she had ever seen, and even made Malfoy Manor look like a hovel in comparison.

"Wow." She breathed, simple words, the only ones she could muster as she stared in awe at the grandness before her.

"The ministers house is a beautiful piece of architecture, over the years I have enjoyed seeing the rooms styled differently by each Minister, but I must say I am partial to Fudge's spin on things, or rather, his wife's, a true eye for design that woman," Lucius purred as he too looked about the entrance hall, noting the subtle changes to colour palettes and furnishings.

"Ah, Malfoy, there you are."

A dark haired man approached, a warm smile on his lips, but something in his eyes told Ophelia he wasn't quite as sunny and approachable as he seemed. His skin was deathly pale, paler than Lucius' even.

"Flint, how are you? I trust everything is well on your end, how is the family?" Lucius extended his hand, which Flint took, shaking it firmly.

"They are well, Marcus has started at Hogwarts now, Slytherin of course, as can only be expected of a Flint."

"Of course." Lucius nodded.

The pale man looked over Lucius' two guests over his shoulder, recognising the young boy immediately.

"Ah and you brought your son, he looks well, strong and smart like his father no doubt," Lucius wanted to roll his eyes at the man's attempt at flattery, he knew exactly what it was building to later in the night: a loan request. Everyone had heard about the Flint's ongoing money problems.

"Yes, he's certainly a shining example of a Malfoy, we are very proud of him," Lucius bragged.

"And Mrs Malfoy?" Flint asked, his words trailing suggestively, Lucius hid a snarl behind a picture-perfect smile and white shining teeth.

"Travelling." Lucius uttered through gritted teeth, "you know Narcissa as well as I, a heart and mind of her own, she might show, she might not."

"She might have found something better to do tonight, or rather... someone better." Flint chuckled lowly. "My wife went for tea at the Greengrass Manor, was surprised to find your wife there, rather comfy."

"Yes, we have always been close to Cyrus, and of course his wife Astasia... before her untimely passing."

"Fell down the stairs didn't she? I heard her head snapped all the way around, what a terrible way to go..."

"Yes, quite terrible." Lucius exhaled darkly. He knew exactly what Flint was suggesting, that Narcissa or Varius pushed her. It had pondered through Lucius' enough times, though he had never come to a conclusion whether he believed it was the workings of his wife and her lover. He certainly wouldn't underestimate her, and always made her descend the stairs in front of him since that day.

Flint eyed up the other guest over Lucius' shoulder curiously, dressed in glittering black, a string of expensive rocks strapped to her neck.

"And your other guest, I can't quite place her." Flint hummed.

"Miss Oakham," Lucius beckoned her attention as he stood aside, giving Flint a better view of the young woman. Ophelia's head snapped up from Draco, whom she was sharing an inside joke with. She hadn't let the annoyed sigh of Lucius' voice pass over her, she eyed the stranger with nervous curiosity.