Richard deliberately blinked, very slowly.
"A trifle," he said. "The Grosvenors are renowned for their altruism. Setting aside a few million to assist dispossessed farmers—what could be more noble?"
Tessa could barely contain her laughter. She understood perfectly well that Grosvenor wouldn't merely avoid losing a penny on the arrangement—he would actually make money from it. She saw through Richard's scheme at once. Use her department to create problems for Malfoy, pay for the farmers' relocation through a charitable foundation, and shortly afterwards claim tax relief on the money spent. All that remained was to establish what she and her superior, Baron Deben, would get out of it.
What followed was a polite round of bargaining that ended in mutual agreement. Both aristocrats came away satisfied.
Richard's next step was to telephone Madam Bagnold. He arranged with the Minister for Magic for increased protection of a "site of historic magical significance". Officially, Auror patrols would be guarding the area around Stonehenge; unofficially, they would be watching the boundaries of Malfoy Manor, in case Lucius decided to solve his problems with a kind word and an Imperius Curse.
***
July flew by unnoticed and handed over its duties to August. The first week of the final month of summer proved surprisingly warm for these latitudes.
Lucius Malfoy went out into the courtyard to feed the peacocks. Dill had fallen ill again, which was a bad sign.
Lucius made his way over to his wife, who was trying to put the garden in order. He gently plucked a broken twig from her hair.
Narcissa wearily blew aside a strand of hair that kept falling into her eyes.
"Lucius, have you still not found out where that good-for-nothing Dobby has got to?" she asked irritably.
"No, darling. Dobby doesn't answer when summoned. You understand, there's only one of two possibilities: either some wizard has captured our house-elf, or the useless fool has managed to break his neck through his own stupidity. I find the latter more likely."
"Lucius, I can't go on like this!" Narcissa's nostrils flared angrily. "I have to cook, clean, wash the clothes, and tend the garden myself, like some common housewife! When are you going to buy a new house-elf?"
"Narcy, it isn't that simple. I've submitted an application to the Ministry, but finding a suitable house-elf could take quite some time—a year, two, perhaps even three."
"Lucius!" Narcissa planted her hands on her hips. "If we don't have servants by tomorrow, Draco and I are leaving for France to stay with your father! I'm sure Abraxas will welcome us with open arms."
Lucius was horrified by the prospect of having to do the housework himself. He immediately began running through his options.
"Er... Darling, don't get worked up. I'll think of something."
"WHAT?!"
The gears in Malfoy's head began spinning at a furious pace.
"I'll hire a wizard as a temporary servant!" he declared, having come up with what he considered a brilliant idea.
"A wizard?" Narcissa considered this. "Well, it's better than nothing. But won't that be expensive? You've seen how prices have risen in Diagon Alley. Just imagine, school robes cost twice as much as they did in previous years! And potion ingredients? They've tripled in price. Even cauldrons, quills, and parchment, whose prices never used to change, have become more expensive!"
Lucius grimaced in displeasure. The rising prices were hitting him in the pocket. Even more unpleasant was the sight of his long-standing adversary Arthur Weasley in Diagon Alley, calmly spending enormous sums on purchases for his large family. The seemingly unshakeable Galleon had plummeted in value. Now one had to pay a little over a pound to obtain a single Galleon, while the statutory limit remained unchanged—twelve thousand a year. He could already imagine what it would be like when the time came to exchange this year's income.
"Darling, we'll find an inexpensive servant," Lucius forced out with some difficulty. "Some old witch, perhaps."
"An old witch..." Narcissa wrinkled her nose. "By the way, Lucius, haven't you noticed anything strange?"
"No. What?"
"It seems to me that it's been rather quiet lately," Narcissa said slowly.
"Quiet?" Lucius asked in surprise. "It's always been like this here."
"No, Lucius." Narcissa shook her head. "Of course, we have a large estate, but every now and then we used to hear the sounds of Muggle machinery in the distance. Those rattling, noisy, stinking carriages of theirs, for instance—motorcars..."
"Yes?"
Lucius tried to listen. Not a single foreign sound disturbed the silence of the Malfoy Manor grounds. It felt as though their estate had been transported into the depths of some remote forest, with no Muggles and their noisy machinery for miles around.
Quiet... Too quiet! And Dill isn't feeling well either, Malfoy thought. This definitely bodes ill.
"Darling, I'll go and check."
His wife watched him leave with an irritated glare. She looked hatefully at the bushes, raised her wand, and exclaimed:
"Diffindo!"
Her anger made the Severing Charm far too powerful, and it sliced away far too many branches. That only infuriated the witch further.
"Diffindo! Diffindo! Diffindo! Diffindo!"
Poor bush. It had only needed a little trimming, but in her fury Narcissa transformed the neat green sphere into the work of an Expressionist artist—something angular, crooked, and misshapen.
"I hate this!" she hissed.
Lucius had an excellent sense of his wife's mood. He wasn't so much interested in finding out why it was so quiet as he was eager to put some distance between himself and his irritated wife, who, in a fit of Black family temper, was perfectly capable of hitting him with some curse—not a fatal one, perhaps, but certainly a very humiliating and painful one.
Grabbing a broom from the storeroom, he cast Disillusionment Charms over both it and himself, then soared into the air.
Before long, he reached a small farming village. Even as he approached, Malfoy found it strange that the place was far too quiet. There were no smoke-belching Muggle carriages driving anywhere, no brightly lit signs bearing irritating slogans such as "You're Not You When You're Hungry" or "Good Things Come to Those Who Wait." More than that, there wasn't a person or even a domestic animal in sight, although at this time of day there ought to have been cows grazing in the fields.
Malfoy's heart began beating faster. Such utter desolation filled him with dread. All his deeply buried fears began rising to the surface.
(End of Chapter)
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