Warning: N/A

Chapter 4- What Lucius Malfoy Loves Most

The dark-haired boy was too young, his hair was a mess, his clothes were horrible, and he wasn't even a pure-blood. He knew the dark-haired boy spent endless hours staring at that infernal Gryffindor redhead. Seriously, he couldn't figure out what was so special about her. But the dark-haired boy wouldn't agree with that, no. The dark-haired boy would spend hours talking to her, laughing with her, ditching his Slytherin friends to talk to her.

"Lucius," Narcissa Black nudged him in the ribs. He threw his long blonde hair over his shoulder in acknowledgment but made no other move to look at her. "You're staring again," she sighed, turning a page in her book. "It's beginning to be obvious."

"Hmm," he answered.

"Why don't you just go talk to him? Isn't he like a first-year or something. He'll think it's a blessing from the universe."

"Hmm."

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Hmm- Ack!" he yelled as she roughly yanked his hair, probably pulling some of the precious pieces loose. "What is wrong with you?" he hissed, massaging his aching scalp.

"Go talk to him," she snapped. "You're annoying me."

"He's busy talking to that Gryffindor again."

"Fine," Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Just don't bother me with your poutiness."

It didn't get any better as the year passed. The dark-haired boy continued to follow the redhead around, and gradually, began to be bullied by others. He stopped the Slytherins from bullying the dark-haired boy, but there was nothing he could do to stop the Gryffindors.

He watched as the dark-haired boy grew further and further apart from the redhead and more and more isolated from his classmates. But he didn't approach. What was he supposed to say? 'Hello, yes, I've been watching you all year, and-' He shook his head, that would go over well.

Well, he didn't approach until one day. It had been a bad day. The Gryffindors had been particularly harsh, and the dark-haired boy had called the redhead a Mudblood. He wondered if that was actually true. It must have been; that wasn't something one goes around accusing people of without knowing whether it was true or not.

He was just on his way up to one of the towers. It was one of his past-times. Watch the stars, ignore the world. He'd tripped on a bundle, sending him crashing to the ground in a cursing heap. Of course, he'd started yelling at the idiot that was laying in the middle of the hallway, only to come face to face with the dark-haired boy.

He stopped mid sentence, blinking as he stared.

"I…" the dark-haired boy trailed off as he realized he was being stared at. "I- do I know you?"

"I don't think so," he answered, quickly recovering his wits. "What were you doing?"

"Just… waiting."

"Ah," he answered, though that didn't make any sense at all. There was a beat of awkward silence that he felt compelled to break. "I was just going up to the tower to look at the stars."

"Oh," the dark-haired boy said.

"Yeah," silence. "Would you like to come?"

"Me?"

"Yes…?"

"I, uh," the dark-haired boy shifted, looking past him and at the wall as if hoping something would happen.

"Whatever you're waiting for can probably wait," he said, trying to hide the hope rising in his voice.

"I… yeah, yeah, I guess," the dark-haired boy said. They turned simultaneously, heading in the direction of the nearest tower.

"I'm Lucius Malfoy, by the way," he said as if it didn't matter much. The dark-haired boy gave him an odd look that he didn't understand but didn't say anything. "What's your name?" he asked finally.

"Severus Snape."

"And I care because…" Harry grumbled, following Severus along the corridor and up to the infirmary.

"Because I'm telling you to care," Severus answered, sending Harry a scowl. "Now cease your attitude immediately, Potter."

"Cease my attitude," Harry rolled his eyes. "No one says things like that," fortunately for Harry, Severus decided to ignore this comment. "But why can't he get his own food?"

"He's been turned into a werewolf, Potter," Severus snapped. "Have a little sympathy."

"Oh yes," Harry answered scathingly. "Because sympathy will do him so much good." Severus sighed but made no answered. Probably because he doesn't have one, Harry thought.

Though just once he wished Severus would be able to say something that would make him reconsider. Just once.

"I expect you not to start anything with Draco," Severus said, stopping in front of the door to the infirmary. Harry blinked at him with some surprise.

"When am I ever the one to start trouble?" he asked. Severus grunted and pushed open the door.

The infirmary was empty except for the single bed that Lucius Malfoy had placed Malfoy in on Harry's last visit. Now, Malfoy was laying back on his pillows, the wounds along his throat mostly closed and replaced by dark angry red scars crisscrossing down his throat and dropping out of sight below his shirt. Malfoy's eyes locked immediately on Harry, widening for a second and then narrowing with an enigmatic expression that Harry didn't care to try interpreting.

"Severus," Senior Malfoy stood, his eyes flicking between them with the same unreadable expression as his son's. "Potter. How can we help you?"

Harry stepped forward, setting the food on a nearby bedside table. Then he stepped back, eyeing the doorway. Of course, Severus grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and stopped his retreat. He cursed, trying to wriggle out of Severus' hold though he knew it was no good.

"We brought food," Severus said. "Draco's potions should also be wearing off, so I brought him more."

"Ah, thank you." Senior Malfoy said, he stood, taking a few steps closer and looking at Severus with a strange intensity that Harry didn't want to try interpreting. "Severus, do you mind if I speak to you in private for a moment?"

"Potter," Severus said,his voice containing that ordering tone that Harry didn't know why he bothered with. It wasn't like Harry particularly cared to listen to him if he didn't want to. "Stay with Draco," Harry sighed heavily, letting it be known how much he was being put upon, but nodded and Severus let go of the back of shirt. He followed Senior Malfoy out of the infirmary, closing the door behind them. Harry plopped himself down on a bed, reaching across to snatch a grape from one of the plates he'd brought.

"I thought that food was for me?" Malfoy said, his tone high and imperious, and Harry just shrugged, grabbing another. "Normal people actually answer questions, you know," Malfoy griped, shifting in his bed. Harry shrugged again; he was actually answering. There was a beat of silence where Malfoy shifted again and Harry ate another grape. He flicked a glance at Malfoy out of the corner of his eyes, any second now….

"What are you doing, Potter?" Malfoy suddenly burst out, as if he'd been unable to control himself any longer.

"Trying to leave," Harry smirked, plucking another grape off the plate and twirling it between his fingers. "What're you doing, Malfoy? Besides, lying about?" Malfoy's cheeks flushed, his silver-grey eyes flashing with anger.

"I'll have you know I've been seriously injured," Malfoy sniffed haughtily. "I'm supposed to be 'lying about,' unlike you."

"Oh, poor tragic Draco," Harry sighed, doing his best to sound heart broken.

"Don't call me Draco, Potter," Malfoy snapped.

"Why not, Draco?"

"Because I don't like it."

"Oh, and we wouldn't want that," Harry answered. "Heaven knows, Perfect Little Draco Malfoy must never be uncomfortable."

"Fuck off, Potter. You don't know anything about me."

"No, I don't. And I don't want to."

"That's rather decided," Malfoy said, scowling as he reached up to push his blonde hair out of his face. Harry watched the movement, studying how Malfoy's hands were still trembling as if it was taking all his strength to sit up in bed and have talk. He wondered how much pain Malfoy was actually in. How much he was refusing to show. It made Harry admire him in a twisted kind of way. He would have expected Malfoy to be complaining to high heaven about his injuries, asking people to feed him from silver spoons so he didn't have to exert himself.

"Let me ask you something," Harry said. "Would you like to know anything about me?" and Malfoy hesitated, his silver-grey eyes flicking over Harry's face as if he were trying to read something there.

"And if I said yes?"

"I'd ask why?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Because…" Malfoy trailed off, either unsure or unwilling to share his reasons. Harry smiled thinly, turning back to the plate of food.

"See," Harry answered, his smile wide and superior. "Everyone has ulterior motives."

"And what? You're the only exception to the rule?" Malfoy scoffed.

"It wouldn't be everyone if there were exceptions, would it? Don't you know anything."

"How dare you-?"

"I think Severus is glad you didn't die," Harry interrupted, plucking another grape and studying it.

"What?" Malfoy blinked. "Why wouldn't he be glad?"

"Well, I don't care so…"

"Are you always this much of an arsehole?" Malfoy sniffed, and Harry blinked at the glape in front of him, considering the question.

"Probably, I don't keep track."

"What? I wasn't serio-."

"Sucks about the other part though," Harry interrupted again.

"What other part?" Malfoy scowled at him; Harry turned back to him, tilting his head curiously.

"Your father didn't tell you?"

"Didn't tell me what, Potter?" Malfoy said, his annoyance obviously rising. Harry blinked, silently debating with himself. He shouldn't be the one to tell Malfoy, right? Not if his own father hadn't told him. Severus would literally hang him up by his toes if he did, but then, someone should tell him...

"Potter," Malfoy gritted his teeth. "You had better tell me right now what you know, or I swear to Merlin…" Harry raised an eyebrow, how could he refuse that.

"They're going to kill each other," Lucius sighed, as Severus closed the door behind them.

"Probably," Severus answered, turning his dark eyes around to face Lucius. "Have you slept at all?" Severus asked, studying his face. "You look terrible."

"Ah," Lucius let out a tired chuckle. "Every man's dream, to be told he looks terrible," Severus turned his face away, but not before Lucius saw his cheeks flush.

"I didn't mean-."

"Have you slept, Severus?" he asked, making Severus blinked slowly, turning back to Lucius with a twisted smile.

"I'm fine, you needn't worry about me," Severus answered, but Lucius did worry. He worried about the way Severus' eyes had permanent bags under them. He worried about the way Severus didn't eat unless he was being forced. He worried about the way Severus still mourning Lily Evans as if she had died yesterday.

"Of course," Lucius said instead, his face betraying none of that.

"What did you need, Lucius?"

"Need? Nothing, I suppose. Only that I'm worried about Draco. I've not told him the truth about his werewolf bites."

"What? What do you mean you've not told him the truth?"

"I-," Lucius started but was cut off by the searing pain in his forearm. He clamped a hand down on the place on his arm where his Dark Mark was permanently seared into his flesh. His eyes flicked up, latching onto Severus', who had a look of identical pain in his dark iris'.

"It appears the Dark Lord has finally found out about the death of his precious Greyback," Severus muttered, his eyes never leaving Lucius' face.

"You should go," Lucius muttered, hating himself for even suggesting it. "He'll be suspicious if you don't hurry."

"Hmm," Severus answered. He hesitated and then spoke again. "Do me a favor and take care of Potter while I'm gone."

"Potter? Why?" Lucius said, frowning.

"Harry is..." Severus trailed off, his brow furrowing before he spoke again, and Lucius didn't miss Severus' concerned tone when he spoke Potter's first name. "The boy never does well when he's alone," Severus said finally.

He held Lucius' gaze for a heartbeat longer, and Lucius got the overwhelming feeling Severus was talking about more than just Potter. But then he looked away and the moment passed. Severus stepped forward, brushing past Lucius as he left. And he was so close Lucius could smell him. Never pleasant when Severus obviously hadn't had a bath in several days. He crossed his arms over his chest as he watched him disappear around the corner, Severus never was one for believing in the finer details of life.

"WHAT!?" Draco's voice sounded from inside the infirmary. Lucius sighed, allowing himself a single moment of frustration before he went to confront his son. He couldn't have left them alone for more than a few minutes and Draco was already screaming at the top of his lungs.

Finally, he turned and pushed open the doors, to find… not the horror scene he'd expected. Potter wasn't on the ground bleeding, Draco wasn't casting spell, there was no suspicious green flui spilling anywhere. Instead Harry was sitting on a bed, a plate of food in front of him, twirling a grape between his fingers as if he didn't have a care in the world. And Draco hadn't moved from his bed, though he did have a murderous glare on his face. Unfortunately, the glare, rather than being pointed at Potter was pointed firmly at Lucius.

"What is it, Draco?" Lucius asked, being careful his voice didn't betray his annoyance.

"Is it true, father?" Draco asked. "Will I be a… a we-were-," he seemed to choke on the word for a moment before giving up entirely and just looking at Lucius. As if Lucius could make it all go away.

"Draco…" he muttered, directing a glare at Potter's head. How dare he tell Draco before he was ready. Draco gasped, his silver-grey eyes widening with disbelief.

"No…" he whispered, shaking his head slightly. As if that would make the truth disappear.

"I can't believe you didn't tell him," Potter said, not even bothering to look up from his grape. "As if waiting longer will make it better."

"Yes, and what do you know about it, Potter?" Draco snapped, breaking out of his disbelief to glare at Potter.

"Oh, nothing," Potter answered, his lips twisting as he continued to play with his grape. "I know nothing about having your whole life turned upside down by some horrible fate that was forced on you and you never wanted," his fingers squeezed, sending grape juice spattering across the table. "So, I think I'll go find Severus and leave you to mourn your perfect pure-blood life in peace," he stood, dropping the remains of his grape on the table.

"Severus has left," Lucius said, watching Potter carefully now. He felt he was just beginning to understand why everyone wanted to keep the boy close. He wasn't exactly stable. "He was summoned by Lord Voldemort." Potter's eyes flicked up to him, flashing with some emotion that was gone too fast from Lucius to identify.

"And I care because…." Potter asked, raising an eyebrow as if he really didn't. Lucius couldn't stop himself from blinking. Potter just smirked and crossed to the door.

"Severus didn't want you to be by yourself," he said, and Potter hesitated, his hand hovering in the air. And just for a moment, Lucius really thought Potter would come back.

"Severus wants a lot of things he'll never get," he answered, then he threw open the door and left.

Lucius cocked his head, listening to the boy's retreating footsteps. He didn't understand. What had happened to the Wizarding World's Golden Boy to make him seem so… Hostile? So... Broken?

"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco's asked, his voice breaking through Lucius' thoughts. He turned, refusing to let his sorrow show in his eyes. The last thing Draco needed was to see him weak. The last thing either of them needed was to break down. Malfoy's were always strong in the face of new obstacles.

"I was going to."

"When?"

"When you were ready."

"Bullshite," Draco snapped.

"Watch your tone-."

"No," Draco glared, his eyes shining as if he was about to start crying. Lucius rather hoped not, he rather hoped he'd trained Draco better than that. "I trusted you never to lie to me."

"I didn't lie, Draco. I-."

"No, you did worse," he raised one trembling hand as if to touch the marks crisscrossed along his neck. Lucius turned his face away. "You can't even look at me!"

"Draco-."

"Just get out!" Draco yelled, sitting up in his bed with a grunt of pain. "Just get away from me before you feel compelled to lie about something again." Lucius raised his chin and set his jaw. He wouldn't scold his son, not now.

"Very well," he said, turning around and following Potter out the door.