"Well Overdue"

July 1996, 1 month later

The newspapers on Circi's bed were piling up as the days passed by. Each morning in the remaining month of the school year greeted her with yet another image of Cornelius Fudge admitting that Voldemort had returned. She often slept on top of the papers, lulled by the flashes of white from the cameras of other reporters.

Her doom mates were concerned, mostly, and every attempt to help her tidy up was met with hopeless protests. Since the events at the ministry succumbed to rumours, and Circi's evident shift in attitude began to affect her work, Leslie discovered he had been lied to. It wasn't as though he was completely in the dark and had made moves to move on from his 'friends'. He sat away from Circi, returned to the common room minutes before curfew and avoided seeing either girls.

Overall, he felt betrayed. Betrayed that they considered him gullible enough to think they were in a relationship. Betrayed that he had believed them.

The loss of his friendship pained her and she grieved heavily.

Some evenings, or even at the weekend, when Circi couldn't bring herself to get out of bed at the thought of seeing the news again, Rhiannon sat with her and ran her fingers through her hair. Niamh sat on her other side, humming gently. On one particular saturday afternoon, two weeks before they were due to go home, the three of them were sprawled across the newspapers in silence and sharing a box of Bertie Bott's every flavour beans. Circi could not bring herself to care about the disgusting flavours and simply smiled faintly when the other two gagged.

Fern and Myrna were due to join them when lunch finished. The two of them had been studying in the library all morning and had agreed to smuggle some sandwiches from the Great Hall for them.

While they waited, Rhiannon joined in on Niamh's song. It was the same old muggle song she had been singing for the last few weeks so the two purebloods, uncultured was how Niamh had called them before, were now familiar with lyrics and the melody. Rhiannon's singing was not spectacular, nor was it kind on the ears, but she spoke her words to Niamh's melody this time and in a different language.

Niamh stopped singing in time to hear Rhiannon speak the next few words in Spanish, her favourite language she had learned from her mother, before rejoining.

They didn't stop when Fern and Myrna rejoined and emptied their bags to reveal entire plates full of food. The sight made the other three giggle and the singing continued as they ate.

A knock on the door interrupted them and they scattered, scrambling to stand in the middle of the room after drawing the drapes around the bed to hide the food. Fern opened the door, spoke a few words to whoever it was, and closed it again. She held the newspaper someone had delivered in her hands and read over it, and then she read it over again.

"What? Is it?" Circi stepped forward and held out her hand. Fern pulled the paper away and shook her head.

"It's nothing."

Rolling her eyes, Circi snatched at the paper, fighting it out of Fern's grip and reading over the article. This was a new article and it was front page news. At first, the headshot of Serenity didn't phase her and she focussed more on the article but then she came across the subheading 'Lucius Malfoy's confession' and paused. She looked back at the photograph, watched her mother cry at the camera and then saw it flash white and fade into a newer headshot of her father.

Lucius Malfoy had the calmest headshot she had ever seen. He simply stared stoically into the camera, gripping his number plaque tightly and swaying ever so slightly. The rest of the article read:

'Lucius Malfoy, a once respectable Ministry Official, has been arrested for affiliation with He Who Must Not Be Named and his followers known as Death Eaters. Mr Malfoy was arrested during the first war for suspicion of dark magic and had appealed his charge by claiming he and his wife had been under the imperius curse, administered by escapee Serenity Rier.

'After his second arrest, however, it was revealed during questioning that Mr Malfoy had fabricated these claims in an attempt to clear his own name. This, along with his admission of using dark magic, has earned him a life sentence in Azkaban.

'With new details regarding Serenity Rier, officials are urging her to step forward and accept an official pardon from the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge.'

Serenity was conflicted on how to feel as she read over the article under Christian's supervision. She read over the article again, staring at Lucius' mugshot. Shaking out the paper, she looked up at her father for clarification and he shook his head from where he stood behind the chair.

"I haven't approved anything. Believe me, honey, the moment I can pardon you I will but the Minister wouldn't listen to me. It's a trap." She deflated in her seat, wiping away a stray tear and throwing the paper to the ground. The room was silent, even the fire which seemed to die down in time with the news. Merritt's portrait above it was empty, she had walked off some time ago and had yet to return which left Serenity and Christian uneasy. Ruffling her hair, Christian leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "I'll look into it tomorrow. It's probably a last minute decision."

Thankfully, he had been right. The next day, when he had settled behind his desk and picked up the day's paper on his desk, he was visited by the minister himself. It wasn't often that Cornelius Fudge left his office during the day, especially since Voldemort's return, so the appearance was unexpected.

He was a fidgety man these days. In the press and the corridors he seemed well-composed but, in front of his closest colleagues, his hands fidgeted with whatever he could. And today, he was passing a file between his hands.

"Cornelius," dropping the paper back onto the desk, Christian sat up straighter and motioned at the empty space in front of his desk where a chair slid across the room to with a wave of his hand, "take a seat. What can I do for you?" The minister took a seat and looked at the paper. He pursed his lips as Serenity's headshot flashed in front of them and handed over the manila folder.

"I wanted to deliver this myself... and to tell you how sorry I am on behalf of the ministry." Picking up the folder, Christian opened it and was immediately greeted by a much clearer headshot of his daughter. His heart used to pause briefly whenever he saw it but these days he was able to look past it, now he knew she was safe. Underneath two pages worth of profiling and another five for medical records, psychiatric evaluations and charges, was a document titled 'OFFICIAL PARDON' followed by a page of text and three lines for signatures.

One of the signatures was already filled in, it was the minister's, and when Christian read over the whole document he could feel himself welling up.

"Is this real?" He gasped, knowing the truth but needing to hear it before he believed it.

"Of course it is." Fudge furrowed his eyebrows as Christian plucked a tissue from his draw and wiped at his eyes. "A grievous error was made on our behalf and, as her father, I cannot imagine what you have endured in your position. I can imagine, however, that you are somewhat aware of her whereabouts. You're an intelligent and resilient man, Chris, there is no way you haven't found her yet." Christian was hiding his guilt at the statement, and it was easy considering his relief upon receiving the document in front of him. "That is between you and me."

"Thank you," he shook his head and flicked through the file again, noticing especially that her psychiatric evaluations became more detailed as they years passed and knew exactly what to do after this, "I will get this processed as soon as possible." He looked up to meet his friend's concerned eyes. "And if it befits you, minister, it will be my last 'assignment' for this department." Cornelius looked taken aback.

"You're getting a new job?"

"No, Cornelius," Christian shook his head with a low chuckle, looking over the pardon document again, "I'm 65. I think it's about time I retired."

"I see," he nods, "well, good luck Chris. We'll be lost without you."

"I doubt that," Christian shakes his head, amused, but part of his brain helplessly agrees with the minister as he looks down at the paper to see Lucius Malfoy's headshot. This was only the beginning of another war, one dark forces were determined to win it seemed, "I doubt that."

A/N

cue 'good news' from nativity