Often Potter came back to the manor with Black, bringing Lily with him, and quite soon she began to bring Andromeda. At first I struggled with that, with the idea of Lily and Andromeda both being under the roof of my home, whilst I was quite unable to untie myself from my past affections for either of them, but I suppose I just got used to it, a bit like a reformed alcoholic has to spend some time in his life watching others enjoy a drink.

The women were busy anyway; their work needed planning and timing now that they had moved away from just the elderly and infirm, and great care had to be taken to liaise with Sirius and Potter to make sure that things were done neither too early nor too late. Andromeda had been assisting in the evacuations, which didn’t surprise me at all, and Minerva McGonagall and Molly Weasley too, which for some reason which mystifies me still, surprised me greatly. Lily couldn’t join them though, except from the safety of her home or the manor; it was too dangerous, at least I thought so.

I didn’t really have a lot of time to dwell on what else was happening, trying as we all were to keep one step ahead of Riddle’s radical campaign of what amounted to little short of the ethnic cleansing of the wizarding world.

I had suggested to Riddle that Henry Potter had made overtures to me about joining us, and he seemed to take a while to voice any opinion either for or against. That didn’t worry me, and perhaps it should have; his reactions were rarely neutral, he was either over-enthusiastic or vociferously against. He did let something slip though, something that made me understand that he was coming to terms with the fact that his own brand of politics was not going to be enough to win his day, and that that would only be achieved by outright war.

‘Perhaps Potter would be useful in winning over some those fools at the Wizengamot,’ he said at last, smiling over his brandy glass at me.

‘Which fools in particular?’ It was Lucius who asked him.

‘Titus Longbottom, of course, and Aurelius Marchmeadow. Even Barty Crouch seems not to understand what his son is able to comprehend,’ Riddle replied. ‘Dumbledore, I suspect, is a lost cause,’ he added, snorting his derision. ‘The old fool cloisters himself at Hogwarts, thinking himself to be the last bastion of hope for the survival of his Muggle-loving followers. But he will fall too,’ he said. He had stood up, shedding the façade of sanity, as he did with such ease when he felt himself safe. ‘His castle of dreams will fall into dust, dragging the last of our shameful dilution with it.’

Black and James Potter had just slipped into the room, and I could see Black move his hand to his wand pocket, but Riddle spun in greeting, waking his guard as he did so with a wave of his arm, and whatever opportunity might have presented itself was snatched away. It would have been suicide anyway, a useless carnage, which would only have left the Death Eaters alive and leaderless, and possibly even more dangerous than they were right then, if any one of us managed to penetrate the shield of power around Riddle. I doubted that of course; long ago Dumbledore, and indeed Ethel, had suggested that a simple killing curse would not rid us of Riddle. It would harm him undoubtedly, if we managed to strike him, but as for killing him, they doubted that. Only part of Riddle lived in the body he inhabited then; the rest lived in Mordestone, and the black stone of death was not subject to the physical rules of men.

*****

Lucius became a bit more like his former self as the birth of his child loomed nearer, spending more time at home. Loath as he was to pin his colours any more firmly to Riddle’s mast, Lucius agreed that he might be able to ensure himself of one less enemy, for a while at least, and went as far as to host another great party for Riddle, which I thought at the time might have quashed any suspicions Riddle might have had about us. Narcissa was heavily pregnant by then, but still managed to carry off her duties as hostess in a way becoming one to the manor born.

Lucius even invited the Blacks, including his father-in-law, throwing the ball into their court to do with whatever they wished. They could either stoop to return the volley, or let it pass and miss whatever networking opportunities a night at Malfoy Manor would undeniably present. In the end they came, en masse, and Lucius upstaged them yet again by placing them right in front of the top table in their usual place of honour, and then ignoring them completely. All in all, I thought he handled a tricky situation quite well, at the time at any rate.

I sat with Riddle, in his preferred place at the fire in the library once most of the guests had left, and felt myself freeze as he drew Mordestone from his pocket. For a moment I panicked, but I knew that Ethel would be in the catacombs anyway, as she always was when Riddle was there, keeping check that Salazar was not breaking through.

‘You know, she loves it here, Severus,’ he said, as I composed my face into a neutral mask.

‘Who does?’ I asked.

‘Why, Mordestone, of course.’ He raised the stone to his cheek, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment as he did so. ‘She has served me well, Severus… as I serve her too,’ he added with his dangerous smile, the one that always led up to something as unpleasant as it was unexpected.

I said nothing, but there was a light knock on the door at the same time as there was an urgent tap on my mind. I knew it wasn’t Ethel; she would still be in the catacombs, keeping her vigil along with the rest of the ghosts, and as Rabastan Lestrange came into the room, Sirius Black slipped into my mind. “Get back down here, Severus,” he said, the panic clear in his message, “Lucius is under arrest.”

‘It is done, my Lord,’ Rabastan said, genuflecting as he crossed the room to where Riddle sat, as I tried to keep up with Black’s garbled message.

‘What is done?’ I asked, desperate for an excuse to leave the library without arousing suspicion.

‘Nothing for you to trouble yourself with, my Severus,’ Riddle replied, waking the ever present escort of Death Eaters who had stood at the door watching us sightlessly. ‘Just a snake in the otherwise green grass,’ he said. ‘Do not worry about it. I do not blame you. He can be very plausible.’

‘Who can?’ I asked, my own panic mounting by the moment as I clutched my hand around the white stone in my pocket.

‘Lucius,’ Riddle replied. ‘Don’t blame yourself, Severus.’

I stood up, making for the door. ‘You’re wrong,’ I said. ‘Whatever you think of him is wrong.’

‘I am not his accuser,’ Riddle said, and there was something ominously like satisfaction lacing his words. ‘The Wizengamot themselves held an extraordinary meeting this evening,’ he said, shaking his head in mock sorrow. ‘I am very much afraid they would have known that our faithful were all here, and hoped to surprise us with this.’

I felt the frown cross my face. ‘How do you know this?’ I asked, but what I was really wondering was where Albus Dumbledore had been when whatever had happened had happened.

Riddle tutted. ‘Really, Severus, my eyes are not only on the comings and goings of Malfoy Manor, you know,’ he said somewhat reproachfully. ‘And it is not fitting that all these terrible atrocities that have been taking place go unpunished.’ He raised his eyebrow in something like challenge. ‘Now, it would hardly do for the blame to be laid at anything but the appropriate door; wouldn’t you agree?’

‘What exactly is happening, Tom?’ I asked, desperate to drag him out in some way.

‘Lucius is just being taken in for questioning, Severus,’ he said. ‘If, as you say, he is faithful to me, I shall find a way of securing his release… glossing over his more despicable orders.’

‘They came from you,’ I blurted out, not even bothering to veil the accusation in my voice.

‘You would do well to remember to whom you speak, Severus,’ he said, and I didn’t miss the smirk of satisfaction that crossed Lestrange’s face that I was being dealt some sort of rebuke. Riddle noticed Lestrange too though, and he raised his hand slightly, leaving Rabastan writhing on the floor in agony. ‘And you, Lestrange, should remember your own place in the grander scheme of things.’ He held out his hand to me. ‘Now, Severus, my love, I understand you are upset. Let us go back downstairs to see what we can do.’

*****

‘Now, now, gentlemen,’ Riddle said disarmingly as he reached the bottom of the grand staircase, ignoring Narcissa weeping in Lucretia’s arms, instead smiling over to where Cygnus and Orion Black had Lucius bound in magical chains. ‘Surely the bonds are unnecessary,’ he suggested. ‘Mr Malfoy is nothing, if not a gentleman. I am sure we can trust him to come quietly with us, so that we can sort out this unfortunate affair and have him back in the bosom of his… extended family, as soon as possible.’ He gave a sweeping glance to Black and Potter to where they stood with Lucretia and Narcissa, with Lucius’s elves howling their own terrified lament from the door to the recently emptied ballroom, and I could see he trusted none of us.

He had dropped all pretence of the order for Lucius’s arrest not having been issued by himself, and that left me wondering if he had indeed penetrated the Wizengamot, or if he were acting on his own power of arrest alone. He crossed the floor to Lucius, snapping his fingers as the chains snapped with them.

‘I can trust you, Lucius, can’t I?’ he asked. ‘Only, I would fear for you if that proves not to be the case.’

‘Have I given you cause to believe anything else?’ Lucius asked, shrugging himself away from Orion and Cygnus. ‘Have I not obeyed even the most distasteful of your orders?’

‘My orders?’ Riddle asked, his eyebrow rising. ‘Correct me if I am wrong, Lucius, but I was led to believe that you were the Minister of Magic… the ultimate power.’

*****

That night Narcissa went into tortuously protracted early labour. By the time she delivered Lucius a son, almost a whole day later, her husband was in Azkaban, awaiting what was to pass for his trial, and I prayed to whoever might have been listening that Lucius would live to see him.

*****