Break unpleasant news: husband

[increevable]

A sombre silence filled the living room of Stepford manor, where Lady Stepford herself sat before the trio of Unspeakables, a tiny, frail, almost skeletal figure, her thin, white robes a sharp contrast to the dark green leather of the over-large chair she was perched upon.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you such unpleasant news," Dennis said.

"My husband," she repeated.

"Yes," Dennis said.

"He's--"

"Yes!"

"--alive?!" Lady Stepford gasped. "Still? But I saw him vanish from locked rooms!"

"The entire manor is riddled with secret passages!" Dennis explained.

"We found thirty-seven on this floor alone," Emmett put in. "Rotating fireplaces, sliding panels, false walls, concealed trap doors, drop down ladders, portrait doors..."

"It's all very sophisticated stuff," Grace added. "Deliberately non magical too. Any one would have been fooled. I can barely believe it myself."

"He walks through things! I've walked through him!"

"Mild confundus charm, displaced clone-glamour and a modified invisibility cloak," Dennis said, "which is why he looked semi-transparent, too!"

"My god," Lady Stepford breathed. "No wonder he insisted on the cheapest possible funeral. I knew there was something odd going on. The whiskey kept going down, and I don't drink it, and the House Elves always made too much food, and real ghosts don't age, do they?"

"Not so far as we know, ma'am, although I still think it's possible a ghost could by psychosomatically altering its appearance in line with a strong belief that it should be aging! On account of Radford's Law of--"

Emmett nudged Dennis into silence. It appeared Lady Stepford hadn't been listening either.

"All those visiting maids should have been a clue as well," she mused, "but he was always saying 'Elspeth, I can't touch anything, of course I'm not cheating on you'."

"I'm afraid he owes sixty years of back taxes," Grace said.

"And faking your death and impersonating a ghost both carry a minimum of five years in Azkaban," said Emmett.

"He's in a lot of trouble!" agreed Dennis.

"Mmf! Rgle mnf nng grmp! Mnun gllns nch mf frm mm!" said Lord Stepford from behind his gag.

"I don't care," said Lady Stepford with sudden strength, standing, five feet of towering rage. "You were a lousy husband when you were alive and an even worse one while you were dead, and for all I care, you can rot in hell, Stanley!"

Before the Unspeakables could stop her, she'd snatched up a nearby vase and chucked it her bound husband with impressive strength but rather terrible aim. It sailed clear past him and struck the standing lamp in the corner, which fell over and hit the edge of the fireplace, which promptly span around, the fire-dog sent flying up into the air and coming down hard on the rug, which promptly fell away as it had been covering a trapdoor which was now open and through which the bound Lord Stepford now accidentally toppled as he tried to back away from his wife.

Emmet swore, and the four of them crowded around the hole in the floor to look down at the twisted body below. There was a long pause, and then a faintly blue, translucent version of Lord Stepford sat up out of the body.

"By Jove," he said. "Now you've done it, Elspeth!"

"She killed him," said Grace.

"It was an accident," wailed Lady Stepford.

"It was an accident," said Emmett. "We all saw it."

"We did! And he was already legally dead!" Dennis pointed out. "Even though he wasn't actually dead, but now he's really dead and legally dead, so, technically, no one's actually committed a crime!"

The others stared at him.

"Well, they haven't," Dennis said, defensively.

"...works for me," Grace said and Emmett nodded.

"Thank you kindly for all your help in this matter," said Lady Stepford primly. "I shall be sure to inform the Ministry that you were the models of decorum and professionalism."

"Works for her too," Emmett translated.

Dennis beamed. "My turn to get the drinks in!"

And whistling a jaunty tune they went on their merry way, confident in another job well done.