So, with the deepest regret, Gideon stepped out on this ‘holiday’ putting his best foot forward as a gesture of his love. All right, so he came along with this madness as a work requirement but nonetheless, he felt better saying he was here for her.
Mr Davies hosted a gala in the large office space. Overnight, the cubicles and the chaos disappeared and the office was transformed into a ballroom with crystal chandeliers and hundreds of fresh cut flowers. Waiters floated around theballroom, weaving about small glass tables and folks on the wooden dance floor. Gideon amused himself with a private laugh. Perhaps he should point out the obvious flaw in this get-together: not every culture celebrated this fictional Saint Valentine, and they should file a public compliant outlawing all clichéd, flowery romance for the night.
Gideon donned simple black dress robes with a rose in the top button hole. Annette either, wore astrapless, chiffon gown with a complementing shawl. If Gideon had been forced to attend and fight through his sickness, he felt it only right she suffer through the social awkwardness right along with him. It wasn’t long before she shed the heels for a pair of ballet slippers in her handbag and wrapped her hair into a twist. It was cool in the room despite the cackling flames in the fireplaces and quick dropping temperature outside, yet she went by a completely different barometer these days. Light makeup touched her features and she wore diamonds nicked from her grandmother’s collection. This party was a business affair, essentially, dressed up as an elegant charade.
Once Gideon and Annette cut through the small talk, couples took to the floor.
“You look good in red,” Gideon said, taking her hand and laying his other hand on her waist as the music started. A quartet sang with background accompaniment on a raised platform.
“I look like a plump cherry,” she objected.
They started out with a simple waltz, which was a good thing, because Annette only had to shuffle her feet. She laughed along with him when he chuckled by accident. “Yes, you stopped lying long ago. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be wearing mismatched bedtime slippers under this drapery because I can’t see my feet. You’re a bad liar, Mr. Prewett.”
“So I’ve been told,” said Gideon, spinning her in and holding her close.
“Let’s go to Calais for the weekend.”
“Why?”
Annette wouldn’t come right out and say it. He shared the same fear. When the kid arrived, not that he banked all his hopes on it yet, they were in for a rude awakening. Kids swallowed up their lives and their money because this was the trade off. Arthur and Molly had Bill right after they tied the knot and they planned everything around the boys. They couldn’t pack a bag on short notice and head for Paris or Barcelona. Life fell would fall into a boring routine: no travelling, no dates, and no sex. All right, perhaps the last one didn’t hold, yet he knew there would be certainly less of it. He loved that about her. The first few years after they got married, she hardly turned him down.
“Don’t you want to see Auguste?” she asked.
“I do. But it’s not the best time to go travelling.”
“I feel fine!” Annette jumped to a defence quickly.
Gideon found his attention waned whenever she got like this. Something struck his fancy. He glanced round the place and recognised a few faces. To his surprise, Lucius Malfoy and his wife looked rather cosy chatting things up with the Junior Minister. He didn’t know much about Mr Malfoy, really. So despite catching a few whispers of illegal activity, Gideon chose not to judge. Most of the rumours, of course, came from Arthur, who despised the man to his very core. Mr Malfoy’s wife, a pretty blonde thing, twirled around in flowing satin robes. Her soft curls framed her face. Every now and then, she’d toss back her head and laugh. Gideon held her sight for longer than a glance. In fact, he kept his eyes on her the entire time he swayed across the dance floor. When the song ended, he didn’t move until Annette tugged his sleeve.
“Let’s grab a table,” she suggested, fanning herself with a hand. “Aren’t you hot?”
“No, Annie, it’s just you,” he muttered as he offered her a seat next to Mr Davies.
Mr Davies, as usual, boomed with conversation and welcomed them without hesitation. He reeled off compliments for Annette, and she blushed, shook his hand and offered herself up as a patient listener.
Gideon, long conditioned to how this man hooked folks in, escaped to the toilet. He couldn’t shake this feeling. All right, so checking out another woman didn’t count as cheating in his book. Why did he always have to look? He had this beautiful woman on his arm. Gideon washed his hands and ran water over his face. It was the flu, this sick feeling in his stomach, it had to be. By tomorrow, he’d be a useless half-dead fool lying on the couch. He headed back towards the room, wiping his sweaty hands on his robes. He felt alone. He really, really did, and it wasn’t the kid. No, they slept in separate rooms now because he was afraid of slipping into a comfortable routine of spending peaceful nights upstairs without her.
A hand reached out for his and he took it.
He started to say her name, but she put a finger to his lips and led him into an empty broom closet. The door locked and his lips met hers. Her hands slid down and he gasped. He grabbed her wrist. It didn’t stop her from burying her face in his neck. He knew by the feel of her that this wasn’t his wife. This woman had no curves, no laughter. The woman made quick work of him and he touched her lips again and again, running his fingers through her soft hair.
“Ah,” he said softly, licking the sweat off her neck. This woman was beautiful, intoxicatingly beautiful. The way her hands moved, Gideon was sure this wasn’t the first time Narcissa Malfoy had done this; the woman looked as though she got anyone she wanted. This was wrong, so wrong. “Stop.”
“You don’t mean that.” She played with his ear as she whispered softly and pressed him against the wall. “It’s a shame you’re so weak. Tell me. Are you bored with her?”
“No.” Gideon lost all conviction when she swayed her hips. He found it difficult to concentrate with that finger running down his chest. His mind exploded with amazing scenes, things he never dreamed of with Annette. “I “ I can’t. You’re beautiful, you know, but your husband wouldn’t approve.”
“What do you want?” She laughed when her robes slid off her frame and he spun her round. “Yes or no?”
Damn it all.
Gideon smoothed out his robes and stepped into the crowded lift. Annette wasn’t there when he stepped back into the room. He didn’t worry, though, because Annette had probably stepped out. He had missed Jacqueline’s presentation. Whereas René Marceau ran by the clock of his academy, Jacqueline had gotten to the stage of her career where she picked her own hours and worked from her makeshift station in the basement. Her speeches usually carried an informal tone in front of the department where she openly discussed her ties with her fellows across the Channel and why the healthy cooperation and friendships strengthened the bonds between cultures. It was the reason he had been dragged along tonight, and he’d missed the whole thing.
The golden grilles of the elevator opened and witches and wizards departed through emerald green flames. Gideon glanced round the room and quickened his step when worries crept into his mind. She couldn’t have left. No, Squibs were either escorted through the visitor’s entrance or by another Ministry employee. She would not have got far because she had never been here before.
A woman with dark tresses stood with her back turned to the Fountain of Magical Brethren. Gideon apologised for knocking into the tall black man as he raced past. Why was Annette talking to a stranger like that? The kid had an earring in one ear and looked as though he hadn’t been out of school for more than a few years. Lily Evans and James Potter stood with them. Gideon sighed. He didn’t receive the owl about the babysitters. Dumbledore set them up for security’s sake, and Gideon couldn’t help wondering if this had to do with the Jacqueline fiasco.
“Are you mad?” Gideon took the woman by the arm. “You can’t just walk round like that.”
“Excuse me?” The woman spoke with a booming voice.
“Madam Bones,” Gideon apologised, his ears reddening. “My apologies. I thought you were someone else.”
“We haven’t seen Annie, either,” said James. James and Lily waved good night to Madam Bones and the tall kid. Lily, too, scanned the Atrium and checked her watch. “The last I heard, she headed off to the bathroom; I thought she was with you because she ducked out in the middle of the speech. Maybe she got sick again.”
“Yeah, well,” said Gideon evenly, more angry with himself than them, though they presented an easy target. “Congratulations. Whilst you were sipping wine and mingling with the big shots, you failed your first shadowing assignment. Did you enjoy the party?”
Dumbledore should have warned him as a courtesy gesture. They had expected Dumbledore here tonight, yet things at the school had delayed him. Gideon had really considered restoring his faith in the younger crowd. Benjy and Edgar seemed to think they were too inexperienced to handle important tasks. If anything, James Potter played the part by donning his finest dress robes and his girlfriend wore a satin gown. Gideon grew weary of all the careless mistakes. This is why people dropped like flies. The Death Eaters thrived on opportunity, which didn’t exactly mean they were intelligent yet they played the game well.
“Hey, mate, she’s your wife muttered James dejectedly. Gideon wanted to hit him. “Well, she is.”
“Let’s not do this,” suggested Lily, stepping in between them. “Let’s just find her. Where’s Peter?”
“At the buffet?” James followed Gideon and asked random folks if they had seen Annette. “She’s tiny. Well, not tiny, petite. She’s kind of big, honestly, if you catch my meaning.”
“She’s expecting.” Lily rolled her eyes. As they weaved through a crowd of old people and cleared their wands with Eric, she rounded on him. “If we have kids and you ever call me fat in public, you’ll get it, Potter.”
“Gideon!”
He spun round and cursed when he saw it was only Jacqueline. He kissed her on the cheek and put a hand over her shoulder. “My lady.”
“Where’s my Annie?” She spoke English for the others’ benefit. “She looks beautiful.”
“You haven’t seen her?” It didn’t come off as nonchalant as Gideon hoped.
“Not since ze dinner, no.” Jacqueline smiled at Lucius Malfoy as they passed, and she got nothing out of it. “Well, perhaps this is not for an old dame.”
“I can’t believe “You’re the Jacqueline Luce- Marceau.” Lily smiled at her. “Our friend, Remus, couldn’t make it tonight, but he’s so jealous.”
“Perhaps he’ll catch me round the Easter holiday.” Jacqueline smirked at Gideon and took his arm. “Come on. You didn’t expect me to miss my great-granddaughter’s birth?”
He’d never understand why they all insisted it was a girl. He played no games and insisted he had no preference. Gideon had seen this happen time againand time again. When they gave the baby a name, it made it real. Annette got happy and hopeful and started decorating again. Right now, all they had was the crib and the pram. He refused to get attached. The last time he did this, the adoption snatched all his hopes. The little curly-haired girl was so close to being his that he kept pictures of her in his wallet. Gideon tried not to discourage her, especially not with Fabian in tow, but it was hard to let go. The other day, Fabian announced a name; it was to be called Danielle Elisabeth Renée Marceau. René, who’d tossed his name in the hat ages ago, said it was high time one of these kids got landed with his damn name. It was unisex, after all, and Annette kept this promise. Either that or the old professor cornered his granddaughter because he craved another little girl and his boys had paid no heed to his request.
“Danielle.” Jacqueline said the name slowly, grinning from ear to ear and clapping her hands together. “I’m so excited! Now, we’ve got a problem here, and I’m sure you’ve spotted it.”
“Hogwarts or Beauxbatons?” Gideon put this to rest. “I don’t care. I’ll let your husband and best friend battle over that when the time comes. Let’s not get too hasty, though; let it get here first, yeah? Where the hell is she?”
He hated bureaucracies. Yes, Gideon realised he spent his life behind a desk developing his own walls against foreign embassies, yet he hated when he was stonewalled against the rules of the game. So, when five hours passed, he finally alerted the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He knew their routine like the back of his hand. Although he honestly wanted to throw the recitation back into their faces, he didn’t. Apparently, there was a twenty-four hour hold until any attention outside of the mere glance because the officers thought there was a chance of the missing returning home. In the back of his head, Gideon felt this made perfect sense. Little kids ‘ran away’ all the time, only to return home because they ran out of snacks or forgot the way to grandma’s house. Domestic disputes poured through the doors, too. A fed up partner would storm off, take some time to curse their lover to death and cool down. When people panicked, they jumped to the wrong, fantasised conclusion about anything.
Gideon put his face in his hands, realising he had just pointed out his mistake. What if she had seen them? No, as he played it back in his mind, he remembered he and Mrs Malfoy left separately. Annette knew nothing; none of them needed to know a damn thing about it. In the midst of his worry, Narcissa’s face floated into his thoughts and an eerie calm came over him. What had he done? He stood there and enjoyed the private viewing as the night played through his mind. He wanted her.
“No.” Gideon slammed his hands down and the young questioner looked confused.
Embarrassed, Gideon shook his head, thanked him for his time, and left without another word. He took Jacqueline’s hand and decided to retrace his steps because backtracking worked in his favour when following a parchment trail.
Jacqueline lost it. She walked faster than he. When Mad-Eye Moody climbed out of a nearby fireplace and brushed soot off his robes, she recognised his scarred face and went straight for him. Gideon dragged along behind her, pleading that she calm herself; the last thing they needed was a scene. Mad-Eye slowed down when he saw her, and Jacqueline begged that he look into the case. It wasn’t his responsibility, and she apologised for overstepping boundaries.
“I remember you, yeah,” he said roughly, stepping onto a lift, “but you have to go through the right people. Madame, and I see that you found him. Prewett deals with international affairs. He’ll take care of you.”
“She has dual citizenship,” Gideon pointed out. “She’s my wife, Mad-Eye.”
Lily and James ran up to them and handed over a badge and a small beaded bag; the visitor’s badge had been clipped on Annette’s spaghetti straps. “We found it by the table,” James announced. A torn red shawl was draped over his arm. “Women don’t leave their things lying around, do they?”
Mad-Eye stuck his umbrella out and barred the door. “Get in.”
They didn’t say a word in the lift. Mad-Eye looked murderous. James should have kept his mouth shut because all these people focused their attention on them. What was the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Auror Office doing with some snooping kid? When they finally stepped out and dodged the stares, Mad-Eye whacked James in the back of the head and pushed open the heavy oak doors. They walked through the maze of cubicles and headed for the back.
“Don’t just sit there, sir,” Mad-Eye growled out of the side of his mouth as they passed Frank Longbottom.
The Auror jumped to his feet and followed them. He pulled a look of nonchalance, merely looking into another case as he followed them. Mad-Eye escorted them to the back and placed his wand on a set of brass scales. Just like Eric’s contraption, the thing spit out a slip of parchment and a heavy oak door opened. Mad-Eye took his wand back and ushered them all inside. The place looked like a cold cell. There were two metal tables with cold chairs around them. Candles provided the only light. The walls, which were shielded with from outside noise, were caked in a brick whitewash. The place clearly hadn’t received an update in some time. Gideon hadn’t even done anything wrong, and he felt depression wash over him.
Mad-Eye and Frank sat at one side of the table. Frank waved his wand and caught a fresh roll of parchment and writing materials. There were dark circles underneath his eyes and he ran a hand through his dark hair.
“Sit.” Mad-Eye barked at them. “Just so we’re clear, Prewett, if you ever try to overstep my department again, you’ll be sorry.” He looked at the others. “If any of this leaves this room, we’re going to have problems. Keep your mouths shut. Potter?”
“Yes.” James gave his promise, thinking he was being singled out to make a point. It took him a minute to realise he held the evidence, so he handed the articles over. Mad-Eye dropped the contents onto the table and sifted through its mundane contents. James, who couldn’t help himself, picked up a sharp dagger. “Why would she carry this?”
“Defence.” Mad-Eye read his confusion. “She’s a Squib, boy, and it only makes sense these days. Dumbledore probably suggested it.”
“Good craftsmanship,” said Mad-Eye appreciatively, examining the blade. He listened to their story, holding up a hand when he needed silence for a moment to piece the jumbled information together. Frank, meanwhile, laid the parchment over his knee and took notes. Mad-Eye ran a gnarled finger along it and showed the specks of dried blood as he tossed it in the air and caught it. “She might have cut herself with it. Light, this one. Do you have the set, Prewett?”
“No.” Gideon didn’t even know she had had the dagger.
“The dagger was on the floor of the corridor , and I picked it up,” said Lily. “I put it back in the bag. I thought she’d dropped it.”
“You say she was with Pettigrew last?” Mad-Eye went over the details and stared at Annette’s heels.
“Yes.” Lily had answered this question already.
There was a soft knock on the door. Mad-Eye, a man unaccustomed to being interrupted during investigations, rolled his eyes and sighed, “Come in, Kingsley.”
The lock clicked. The young man who Gideon saw in the Atrium earlier kept the door cracked. “Professor Dumbledore’s here.”
“Let him in.” Mad-Eye looked up when the professor closed the door behind him. “Don’t you have a school to run?”
“Lily alerted me,” said Dumbledore, sliding behind Jacqueline. He looked at Gideon and bought himself up to speed. “She didn’t go home?”
“No.”
“You didn’t see her leave?”
“No.”
“Where were you?” James asked slowly.
“Taking a piss,” Gideon said shortly, annoyed as they all turned towards him. The husband was always the first suspect. Why did Potter single him out like this? Hadn’t he seen him and his wife on the dance floor?
He looked at Dumbledore, ignoring Mad-Eye as he reeled off something about a worst case scenario. Dumbledore seemed to gather the gist of the scenario because he asked few questions.
“What are you saying?” Gideon asked.
“They took her.” Mad-Eye repeated.
“She’s a Squib,” Gideon said, laughing at the very idea. “What would they want with her?”
“Alastor,” Dumbledore warned him.
“That’s girl’s no ordinary Squib. No, no, why wouldn’t they?” Mad-Eye crafted his reasoning. “She’s quite the bargaining chip, Albus, as she is the granddaughter of, well, her.” Mad-Eye pointed a gnarled finger at Jacqueline. “They know you’re close friends; it’s no secret. So, if they wanted something from you ... it’s a good move.”
Jacqueline shook her head, determined to not lose her composure. Dumbledore reached out for her shoulder, but she slapped his hand away. Lily and James looked shocked. Jacqueline got to her feet and walked towards the door. Gideon knew she’d appeal to her husband. If this leaked out, the Order would be exposed and they had barely started with their plans. Jacqueline would not expose them intentionally. An international fiasco was the last headline any of them wanted to deal with Jacqueline didn’t understand Mad-Eye Moody that well, for she jumped at his first crazy suggestion.
“Jacqueline, please sit down.” Dumbledore didn’t move. “Alastor won’t open the door until we’ve cleared this up.”
“No. I said no. I didn’t want a part in zis.” Jacqueline rounded on him. “Why is zatso hard for you to understand? Annette has no part in zis madness. I asked you to keep her out of the Order, Albus. I begged you.”
Gideon cleared his throat. “She didn’t.”
“You shut up or I’ll make you,” Jacqueline threatened him.
Gideon didn’t need telling twice and none of the others laughed.
She turned back to Dumbledore. “You can’t do zis anymore. You can’t accept your people blindly because zey believe in a cause. What cause? How many of you have died already? Where is she?”
“I don’t know, Jacqueline.” Dumbledore laced Annette’s shawl through his fingers. Whether it was because he felt uncertain or he didn’t want to frighten anyone, he kept his guesses private. “How much does she know, Gideon?”
“Nothing.” Gideon answered automatically until Dumbledore made him feel as though he was looking right through him. He amended the first response. “All right, she knows a little. Whatever she’s guessed with a little help ... enough.”
“Damn you, fool!” Mad-Eye slammed his fist on the table and Gideon jumped back.
“Well, you try keeping things from your wife,” Gideon said weakly, looking to Frank for support. “You find it’s not that easy because they have their ways of weaselling things out into the open. What am I supposed to tell her? ‘Sorry Annette, but you know those nights when I’m late coming home or spend the night in the ‘office’? I’m having an affair.’”
Mad-Eye shrugged it off. “Works for me.”
Gideon eyed him quizzically. “It’s a wonder you’re not married.”
Gideon had debated quitting the Order. Truthfully, it was slowly putting a weighty toll on his marriage. No man got a free pass to keep a secret life. He’d suffered through his share of silent treatment. Honestly, he was waiting on the day she’d throw down the cheating card. This would probably escalate his guilt. Gideon was furious. He, too, saw Professor Dumbledore as the target for his anger.
“I did as you asked, sir,” he said, walking over to the door. “People don’t like being kept in the dark and forgotten.”
When he turned the knob, the door opened. Gideon headed straight for the fireplace. He wouldn’t get anything done if he went to work. How could he think of anything other than Annette? He stepped into the emerald green flames and ignored whoever called his name. Seconds later, he climbed out of his own fireplace and stared around the empty sitting room. The sofa bed hadn’t been made. Ever since Annette started having troubles making it upstairs, they had slept on this creaky thing with its ancient mattress. It hadn’t got that bad yet. She complained it was too hot upstairs, so they made any sacrifices to keep her happy. At any rate, he was closer to the pantry whenever she asked for a snack.
He spun round when Lily climbed out of his fireplace and brushed soot off her robes. James wasn’t too far behind and he looked round the room.
“Please leave me alone.” Gideon didn’t have the fight in him, and he walked into the kitchen to raid the wine cabinet. He returned a few minutes later with a cold bottle, a flannel, and a shot glass. Lily sat in a rocking chair and her boyfriend sat at her feet. Pip, who had been sleeping, sauntered over to the new faces. “You lot didn’t do too well with following instructions in school, eh?”
“You don’t need to be alone,” said Lily, scratching Pip behind the ears. She pointed at the bottle. “Case in point.”
“I’m thirty-five” Gideon waited for her to put him in his place, but she was silent. He lifted the bottle and watched the candlelight reflect through the green liquid. It burned when it went down and he pounded his chest. “It’s a surprising sensation the first time.”
“Is that absinthe?” asked James. He groaned when Lily kicked him and changed his tune. “I mean, you sure you want to drink that?”
“Get a glass, Potter.”
“What? The man can’t drink alone.” James dodged Lily’s glare and was back in a couple of minutes. Gideon scooted over to give him space and filled the glass halfway. “So, where’d you get this?”
“René. He offered it as a wedding gift.” They toasted each other. “Don’t breathe. Just take it like medicine.”
“Right.”
James’s eyes watered and he gasped for air when he put the glass down. Lily snorted.
Gideon would much rather be sharing this with his brother-in-law, or yes, even the eccentric grandfather. They dropped the in-law nonsense a long time ago. Well, René said he’d settle for father-in-law if he must; reminding him of his age wounded him. Realistically, though, if either René or his loyal drinking buddy, Auguste, were working through this bottle, Gideon felt sure that his eyes would be burning from the alcohol thrown in his face. He settled for James. The kid didn’t ask for a refill; he wasn’t going for another shot any time soon. Really, it wasn’t about the drink. Gideon desperately needed to focus on something else, anything else, as he worked on slipping into a guaranteed coma. His first time meeting this concoction was in Barcelona. It was had been rather warm, and the barman had suggested something stronger than a good, cold beer.
“I offered her a glass on our honeymoon,” Gideon said, speaking to nobody in particular. He jiggled the ice cubes in his glass. “It wasn’t really a honeymoon, mind you, because we eloped to Calais. I couldn’t cancel my business trip, so we just went with it. She enjoyed Barcelona, I think, and we sampled a healthy selection of drinks. You know what’s interesting about absinthe? It plays with your mind, yes, but they were puzzled about it for the longest time.”
Lily watched him rock back and forth on the edge of the bed. “Are you all right?”
“Miscarriages.” Gideon lifted his index finger, started on his fifth or sixth shot, and nodded as if to prove his point. “Lots of miscarriages, which, apart from Foetal Alcohol Syndrome, is one of the reasons they advise expecting women not to drink. I believe that’s why we lost the first one.”
Lily bit her lip. She took a deep breath and struggled between telling him to shut up or asking him to continue with the story. “How many?”
Gideon poured another glass and held up his right hand.
“Oh.” She stared at her hands. “I’m sorry.”
“It stopped being sorry ages ago,” spat Gideon. “At some point, it just ends up being plain stupid. Fucking stupid. You can’t chase what you can’t have because there’s always something in the way. You stop living.”
“You’ve had enough of that, mate.” James took the bottle from him.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Gideon kicked his shoes off and laid back. James went back into the kitchen and Lily helped Gideon get into the bed. She fluffed his pillows and pulled the covers round him. “Thank you for ...whatever you’re doing. You’re a pretty girl.”
“And you’re drunk,” she said, smiling at him and wiping his forehead with a cool flannel. “You’re welcome, though. Get some rest.”
Gideon closed his eyes. It had been years since he drank this much, and he knew he’d pay for it in the morning. The headache kicked in, and the pillows didn’t soften the throbbing sensation in the back of his head. It was worth it. Eventually, the drink worked its magic, and he fell into a deep sleep.