Axes to Ashes

“Lizzie Borden took an axe,

And gave her mother forty whacks.

And when she saw what she had done,

She gave her father forty-one.”

Headlines screamed with ferocity. He finally snapped. He wasn't going to live in a dictatorship anymore. It wasn't a surprise to most. What did peak their curiosity was his weapon of choice. A .22 mm caliber pistol. Twenty-nine shells left from a 60-ammo pack. Whispers spread throughout England. Even the muggles had heard.

On December 25, 1985, Narcissa Black Malfoy and Lucius Alexander Malfoy were pronounced dead.

**********

“Ginevra. You have a new case,” Thomas Greene told her.

She nodded faintly as he dropped a red-flagged file onto her desk. She typed up the report on a missing witch before focusing her attention on the manila folder that screamed “IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS!” She peered inside, unprepared to face the new challenge. She gasped as a pair of smoldering gray eyes permeated through her mockingly. She hadn't seen Draco Malfoy since he graduated from Hogwarts six years ago. She read through his history. Finding nothing connected to the murder, she flooed to St. Mungo's where he was currently residing before his trial at the Wizengamot next month.

A kind elderly nurse brought her to the psychiatric ward. Her silvery gray hair bounced with energy and her cerulean eyes shimmered with vivacity. They walked down the winding corridors until they reached the last door. Ginny caught a glimpse of a disheveled man, cowering on the floor in a fetal position.

“You've got to watch out for this one. He's daft in the head, he is,” the woman clucked warningly.

Ginny smiled appreciatively and thanked her. The woman took off all the spells cast onto the door and turned the knob easily, accessing Ginny to walk in.

“Press this button when you want to leave. One of the security guards will escort you out.”

She thanked the woman again. The nurse scrutinized her carefully as she backed away, shutting the door softly.

“I didn't kill them,” was the first thing she heard from the silence.

“That's what they all say.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Why are you even here if you don't believe me?”

“I have to know what happened.”

“I told the authorities before and I'll say it again: I don't know. I wasn't there.” He looked so much older than his 23 years. His slate eyes were so defeated and his once immaculate hair was in disarray. She kneeled down next to him and brushed his mane back with her fingers soothingly. She thought she heard him purr as his eyes closed for a moment before they reopened, watching her without emotion. Ginny quickly pulled her hand back like a scalded cat, chastising herself for her weakness.

“Where were you on December 25 at around 4 in the afternoon?” she asked.

“I was in my room reading, waiting until everyone came.”

“Who's everyone?”

“The Malfoys, of course. It was a family get together of a sort where every bragged about their lives and such.”

“Ah. Then what happened?”

“That's the thing. I don't remember. Everything just kind of blended together in my mind. I can't set my thoughts straight so the memories couldn't be released into a Pensieve.”

So much for trying to prove him innocent.

“So why does the gun have your fingerprints smudged on the base?”

“I don't know, Weasley,” he growled. “Why don't you tell me?”

“Don't give me that tone,” she snapped, sounding eerily like Mama Weasley.

“Oh, shove off.”

She huffed in indignation, not to be put out by the stupid sod.

“I'm here to help you.”

“I don't need your bleeding help. No one can help me,” he whispered. “Just go and live your perfect life with your perfect husband and your perfect kids and leave me the hell alone.”

“You think my life is perfect? Well, I have a reality check for you, Malfoy. It's a whole lot worse than you could even imagine.”

“What? Is your husband fucking another woman?”

“Where is this imaginary husband of mine you keep bleating about? Why didn't he help me when my brothers died? Why didn't he keep me from hurting when my father passed on? Why didn't he comfort me when Delia went away?” she cried.

He looked at her as if she had gone completely insane. She didn't blame him. She swiped at her endless tears with aggravation, trying to pacify herself into a more professional mode.

“Sorry,” she whispered brokenly.

“Who's Delia?” he queried.

This innocent question asked by a not so innocent man frightened her to the end of her wits.

“Sh- She's no one,” she stammered.

He looked at her disbelievingly. Okay, so she sucked at lying. Was that such a horrible thing? Thankfully, he dropped the topic.

“So, Weasley… How do you plan on getting me out?”

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“Alright, Malfoy. Your alibi doesn't exactly check. I mean, you had an entire span of time where you just blacked out? Something just isn't right. Have they tried veritiserum?”

“Of course.”

“And...?” Ginny trailed off.

“Apparently, every time I drank it, I hadn't replied to that question. Quite odd, once you think about it. They tried the most potent truth potion, but it still didn't work.”

“Bugger,” Ginny muttered to herself.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Alright. Was there anyone with a personal vendetta against your family?”

He raised a disbelieving brow. She was kidding, right?

“Umm… Yeah, Weasley. You, Potter… The list goes on, you know.”

“Okay, stupid question… The M.O. appears to be the same, which we probably can conclude to be the same person. I read that the murder weapon was found in your mansion.”

“I could have figured that one out myself, thanks,” he said dryly.

Her patience was rapidly diminishing.

“Anyway… It was hidden above the shelf in your father's study. Not that I would like to linger on that placement, but would there be any reason to suspect that you had been in there at any time during that day?” He smothered his face against the palms of his hands before answering.

“I had gone into his study to retrieve a book.”

“Blast,” she cursed. He watched as she paced around his room, talking softly to herself. She fiddled with her fingers before biting them in concentration. Her auburn brows bunched together, creasing her pale skin. “Alright. There's only one alternative,” she stated.

“Which would be…?”

“We have to interview everyone there and all of your close acquaintances. There's no way around it,” she frowned.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” he mumbled.

“And why, pray tell, not?”

“My family and our associates are very… antagonistic to say the least. They won't like being barged in on.”

“And I have to work on your case, so forgive me if I don't give a flying fuck cow's arse. And unless you enjoy rotting away in Azkaban, you better cooperate and start listing names and where I can find these people.” Without another thought, she conjured up a quill and parchment, handing them over. However reluctantly, he began to scribble away neatly. Half an hour later, he was done. She skimmed through the list and glared at him through her thick lashes.

“It took you half an hour's time to write down 20 names and scratch half of those out?”

“Well, I didn't think that those other ten were very important,” he huffed indignantly.

Most of the surnames were Malfoy, with a few odd ones out here and there.

“Okay. This shouldn't take too long. I'll be back in two hours. Don't go anywhere.”

She pressed the little red button and a man immediately opened the door for her. She murmured a vague farewell before departing.

**********

“So, you hadn't even picked out clothes at the time?” Ginny questioned.

“No,” was the woman's prim reply.

“Okay… Erm… Thanks. I'll show myself out.”

“You do that,” she sneered mockingly.

She all but ran to the sidewalk. She peered down on the list, thankful that there were only two more and she was done. They had all showered her with revulsion and glowered at her with disgust. All she wanted to do was go home and take a long bath. “Cyadine Malfoy,” she said to herself. “Last fucking Malfoy.” Then the final name glared up at her and she groaned. Blaise Zabini. She had been hell during her Hogwarts career. Ginny didn't expect any different treatment today. She apparated to where Cyadine lived. She gently knocked on the door, waiting serenely for an answer. A man about two times her size swung the door open.

“Yes?” he croaked.

“I'm here to see Cyadine Malfoy. Is she present?”

“Who might you be?”

“Auror Weasley. Could you tell her that it's an important matter we must discuss immediately?”

He grunted once before allowing her to pass. He led her to what seemed to be the drawing room. A tall, elegant woman sat on a beige couch, slowly sipping on tea. “I've been expecting you,” her saccharine voice drifted. “Please, take a seat.” Ginny did as she was told. “So… What is it you'd like to know?”

Cyadine was a lot kinder than Ginny would have expected. “Well, as you might know, your brother, Lucius, and his wife had recently been murdered. I'm an Auror on the case to prove Draco Henry Malfoy, your nephew's, innocence or guilt as it may be.” Cyadine nodded understandingly. “I need to know where you were on December 25 at around 4 p.m.”

“I was at the Malfoy Manor.”

“Did you see anything pertaining to the actual murder?”

“No. I had just arrived when I heard loud bangs being fired from somewhere within the house. With my curious nature, I decided to find the source of the sound that reverberated through the manor. I had found their bodies slumped against the wall when a disgruntled Draco walked in with ruffled trousers and a plain robe. His hair was all in a disarray like he had been running or something quite as strenuous.”

Ginny's Quick Quotes Quill jotted down everything that the woman had parroted. Cyadine's aqua colored eyes shone with something that Ginny couldn't quite place. After asking a few more questions, she thanked the woman and left. One down. One to go.

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