Covet by Verity
Chapter Two: First You Dream
Standard disclaimers apply.
.o.o.o.
So he went about his business as usual. In the outer world she simply hadn't existed, after all. He brewed potions for the inner circle at the Malfoy estate by day, came home and tossed and turned in bed by night.
His master summoned him to his side every few days. Tell me, Severus, he asked, the next time, how this work of yours comes, now.
"Unfortunately, I cannot report much progress, Master," he answered. "I have been told that it took Flamel himself many years before he achieved it... In addition, I surely cannot start before spring, the stars will not abide it."
We do not have so much time now, do we?
"No," he acknowledged. "We do not."
Do you require... assistance?
He thought on this for a minute. "Perhaps, my godson...?"
It is as done.
So he knelt before his master in deference, and moved to leave. A grasping hand on his shoulder stilled him.
Remember, we do not have much time... I can only be patient for so long.
"I shall keep this in mind," he promised before making his exit.
.o.o.o.
So his godson came downstairs to his laboratory in the dungeons of the Malfoy Estate. Which meant that he had to find something for him to do.
"Clean out the far room," he said to Draco, gesturing to the wooden door.
"But this is the laboratory..." the boy said, sounding confused.
"Just do as I say."
He took the texts from his bookshelf and cleaned them, gently blowing the dust out of their pages. Surely this was hopeless, he thought to himself. His master had no idea of what he was asking.
When the far room was clean, he gave his godson a small fortune in Galleons and sent him to the city. "Bring me back the best equipment," he instructed. "I'll need-"
"I know what you will need."
The boy was quick, he'd give him that.
.o.o.o.
"We won't be able to begin until late March," he explained, turning to his regular tasks, when everything had been readied. "So I'll have no need of you until then, if I'm imposing on your time."
"Not so much," his godson answered, and looked off toward the imposing pile of books. "I suppose I could read up." He noted that the boy looked thinner, paler these days.
"So much you could," he granted, "if you desired."
"I do." A deep breath. "I think that the Circle wants me dead."
He looked up at this. "Do they, now."
"It is not as if..." his godson stared at his feet. "Well, I failed. You succeeded. Just because he's dead doesn't mean that our master, hell, everyone, has not forgotten. I am afraid that soon I will no longer be needed. Even in my own home."
Privately, he seriously doubted that Narcissa's support of her sister, and by extension, their master's whims,
would go so far. "Well, I shall keep you gainfully employed here so long as it is in my power to do so."
"Thank you."
He listened to the patter of the boy's footsteps up the stairs until they faded into nothingness.
.o.o.o.
At home things were quiet. The house-elf was anxious again, having too little to do. He set the creature to cleaning the books; things had been left to grow dust too long, and after all, the whole library had been disturbed by the girl's visit. How strange of himself to take an interest in housekeeping now that it no longer mattered.
He was disturbed to find himself thinking that it had ever mattered at any point in time.
Christmas holidays had come and gone without much incident; Narcissa had sent a parcel in the mail, consisting of a rather disgusting fruit cake and an entreaty to share the Yule table with them. As usual, he gave it a pass. It seemed pointless to celebrate when there was nothing the next year held but his own sure demise, one way or another.
It was an impossible task, of course.
That was why it had been assigned.
.o.o.o.
How is your progress? his master asked from the depths of the commodious armchair he was most fond of. Nagini curled on his lap like a cat, scales flashing beneath those curved white hands.
"As I told you, I cannot begin before spring. Mid-march at the earliest. However, I have made suitable preparations, and I am educating young Draco so that he may assist me."
Nagini hissed, and his master's face contorted into what he well knew was an expression of displeasure. I desire results posthaste. That child has found too many of my pieces, Severus. He is too clever. At least he has not the girl with him, now...
"There is that."
Thankfully, this answer was sufficient. My health is quite good, for all that... nevertheless, without the stone, there is no guarantee. And I do desire... to be as I was.
"Certainly, Master."
I knew... that you would understand.
.o.o.o.
He set the boy to reading the usual treatises. Flamel, of course, but Paracelsus, Hermes Trismegistus, and Eirenaeus Philalethes as well. They were long and confusing and dull. So of course, they would consume his time, and keep him from worrying.
In the mean time, he met with Narcissa. She served them tea on a delicate silver service of obvious pedigree.
"You say that he is safe so long as he is with you, and this work is not complete," she said at last, when he was done speaking.
"I can buy him a year at most, probably less."
Her already fair skin whitened. "It's not fair. There's no crime he's committed."
"You know that those who do not please our master have an uncanny way of shuffling off the playing board. Rosier, for instance. Nevertheless, I swore a vow to protect him, and it's one I'll uphold."
She looked away, toward the large family portrait of her, Lucius, and their boy in happier times.
.o.o.o.
Chapter title is a (very) vague reference to one of my favorite fIREHOSE songs. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! I read and appreciate ALL of them.
ETA: this chapter has been updated for corrections!