Disclaimer: Once again, I am not J.K. Rowling
Three days passed before Peveral left. Lucius continued to improve after the fever broke and the Healer felt safe in leaving the Malfoy Lord to recover on his own. He left, however, under the influence of a blood oath, one that was well nigh unbreakable, stronger than any truth potion or torture technique. He would say nothing to anyone of his activities for the last three weeks lest he die a swift, horrible death.
Lucius himself was infuriated at the rate of his recovery. Three days had passed and it was still tiring to sit up and talk to anyone for more than half an hour, much less get up. Draco and Narcissa did their best to keep Lucius from wearing himself out, well aware that it would take a long while for him to recover fully from the disease that had held him bed-ridden and delirious for nearly a month. He was left to ponder the possibilities of the situation he now found himself in.
The Order had been moderately satisfied by Draco's apparent sympathy for their cause, as had the Ministry. Avery had turned out to be somewhat useful for both parties as he had apparently been privy to several important pieces of information. Suspicions had been allayed about the Malfoys, keeping the Manor quiet and unwatched, for which Draco and Lucius were both profoundly grateful. It was left, then, how to break it to Dumbledore that Lucius was not, in fact, dead, and when to tell him.
It was well known that Lucius had been a high ranking Death Eater before his capture. If the Order could manage to overlook the stigma attached to that little fact, Lucius could prove to be very useful to them. If he proved to be useful enough, they might just overlook the fact that Draco had had to murder someone to get his father out of Azkaban.
Lucius sighed frustratedly. He appreciated the lengths Draco had gone to in order to get him out of the prison and back home; he simply wished that there wasn't the fact of that extra body to explain away. He had had a long talk with his son after the retrieval of Avery, mostly to find out how it was that the Ministry had not noticed him missing. Draco had explained it glibly, gliding smoothly over the obvious replacement for one body: another body. "And maybe if he could explain it to me that smoothly I'll be able to explain it to Dumbledore that easily," Lucius muttered doubtfully, an expression of distaste crossing his face. He didn't like the idea of joining with the Order but it beat going back to Voldemort with a sign on his back that said "murder me please".
There was also the problem of Draco's return to school to contend with. In a few weeks time, Draco would be returning to Hogwarts. That would be all well and good if over the summer he hadn't supposedly lost his father and been not-so-supposedly declared an outcast by the Dark Lord. To be an outcast in Slytherin House in the middle of the night was...well, it wasn't a good position to be in. There were all sorts of nasty hexes that could be put on a person's sheets and equally nasty things that could be put into the food in the morning. Lucius was quite frankly worried for his son.
It was not until a week later that Lucius finally saw the effects of the disease on his face. It was probably the very first time that the mirror had a grimace in its voice when it spoke to a Malfoy. His face was thin and pale from the many weeks spent with little or no light lest it harm his eyes. Smallpox had been known to cause blindness in some cases; Lucius's thankfully was not one of them.
The scars were not as bad as they might have been. They were for the most part small, scattered pits that could barely be seen at a distance and merely spoke to the fact that Lucius had indeed had smallpox. No, it was his magic that Lucius was most concerned about.
The disease had sapped his physical strength to the point that he nearly died. But along with his physical strength, his magical strength had ebbed. He could feel it deep down; a sense that the core of his magic was depleted. Like his physical strength, it would take time to regain, time that he didn't have. He would need to make his move toward the Order as soon as possible, before Voldemort realized that his connection to Lucius was still functioning rather than dead as it should have been.
Lucius smiled grimly. The Death Eaters who had tried to kill him would pay the penalty for failure; he had no doubt of that. Voldemort did not take kindly to being thwarted. It was some small consolation for the mess he now found himself in.
How far had his magic been depleted? Tentatively he pushed against the barriers, searching for the old connections he had been holding before Azkaban and one old connection in particular, one that dated beyond Azkaban, from before Draco was even born.
Severus Snape had once been one of Lucius's trusted companions. They had fought together, talked together, joined Voldemort at the same time and for many of the same reasons. Severus was in fact Draco's godfather. During the last years of the war, they had set up this connection so that one would know if the other needed help. This connection was very "dusty" though; it hadn't been used since the last time that they had spoken, right before Severus's trial some 15 years before. That was when Lucius had realized that Severus was a spy. And while he had not turned him in, he had stopped speaking to him. Lucius could just barely feel that connection at the edges of his consciousness. He had never let it go for some reason, perhaps feeling that it could still be useful. Now, his belief may have been justified. If he could reach through that bond to Severus, it would be a way to... no; the connection was still too weak. It was intact, but virtually unusable until Lucius had fully recovered. Using a bond of that nature took a substantial amount of energy.
At Hogwarts, Snape felt something at the edge of his mind, brushing against him. It was strange, but he could almost feel something through... but no, that was impossible. Lucius was dead. Dismissing it as wishful thinking, he shook his head and returned to his work.
Whew, another chapter done! And before anyone says anything, no this is not going to be slashy. Lucius and Snape were once as close as Sirius and James, so naturally Snape's betrayal of Voldemort would have caused some issues between these two friends. But anyway, please review, even if it's just to tell me to make the chapters longer or something.
Three days passed before Peveral left. Lucius continued to improve after the fever broke and the Healer felt safe in leaving the Malfoy Lord to recover on his own. He left, however, under the influence of a blood oath, one that was well nigh unbreakable, stronger than any truth potion or torture technique. He would say nothing to anyone of his activities for the last three weeks lest he die a swift, horrible death.
Lucius himself was infuriated at the rate of his recovery. Three days had passed and it was still tiring to sit up and talk to anyone for more than half an hour, much less get up. Draco and Narcissa did their best to keep Lucius from wearing himself out, well aware that it would take a long while for him to recover fully from the disease that had held him bed-ridden and delirious for nearly a month. He was left to ponder the possibilities of the situation he now found himself in.
The Order had been moderately satisfied by Draco's apparent sympathy for their cause, as had the Ministry. Avery had turned out to be somewhat useful for both parties as he had apparently been privy to several important pieces of information. Suspicions had been allayed about the Malfoys, keeping the Manor quiet and unwatched, for which Draco and Lucius were both profoundly grateful. It was left, then, how to break it to Dumbledore that Lucius was not, in fact, dead, and when to tell him.
It was well known that Lucius had been a high ranking Death Eater before his capture. If the Order could manage to overlook the stigma attached to that little fact, Lucius could prove to be very useful to them. If he proved to be useful enough, they might just overlook the fact that Draco had had to murder someone to get his father out of Azkaban.
Lucius sighed frustratedly. He appreciated the lengths Draco had gone to in order to get him out of the prison and back home; he simply wished that there wasn't the fact of that extra body to explain away. He had had a long talk with his son after the retrieval of Avery, mostly to find out how it was that the Ministry had not noticed him missing. Draco had explained it glibly, gliding smoothly over the obvious replacement for one body: another body. "And maybe if he could explain it to me that smoothly I'll be able to explain it to Dumbledore that easily," Lucius muttered doubtfully, an expression of distaste crossing his face. He didn't like the idea of joining with the Order but it beat going back to Voldemort with a sign on his back that said "murder me please".
There was also the problem of Draco's return to school to contend with. In a few weeks time, Draco would be returning to Hogwarts. That would be all well and good if over the summer he hadn't supposedly lost his father and been not-so-supposedly declared an outcast by the Dark Lord. To be an outcast in Slytherin House in the middle of the night was...well, it wasn't a good position to be in. There were all sorts of nasty hexes that could be put on a person's sheets and equally nasty things that could be put into the food in the morning. Lucius was quite frankly worried for his son.
It was not until a week later that Lucius finally saw the effects of the disease on his face. It was probably the very first time that the mirror had a grimace in its voice when it spoke to a Malfoy. His face was thin and pale from the many weeks spent with little or no light lest it harm his eyes. Smallpox had been known to cause blindness in some cases; Lucius's thankfully was not one of them.
The scars were not as bad as they might have been. They were for the most part small, scattered pits that could barely be seen at a distance and merely spoke to the fact that Lucius had indeed had smallpox. No, it was his magic that Lucius was most concerned about.
The disease had sapped his physical strength to the point that he nearly died. But along with his physical strength, his magical strength had ebbed. He could feel it deep down; a sense that the core of his magic was depleted. Like his physical strength, it would take time to regain, time that he didn't have. He would need to make his move toward the Order as soon as possible, before Voldemort realized that his connection to Lucius was still functioning rather than dead as it should have been.
Lucius smiled grimly. The Death Eaters who had tried to kill him would pay the penalty for failure; he had no doubt of that. Voldemort did not take kindly to being thwarted. It was some small consolation for the mess he now found himself in.
How far had his magic been depleted? Tentatively he pushed against the barriers, searching for the old connections he had been holding before Azkaban and one old connection in particular, one that dated beyond Azkaban, from before Draco was even born.
Severus Snape had once been one of Lucius's trusted companions. They had fought together, talked together, joined Voldemort at the same time and for many of the same reasons. Severus was in fact Draco's godfather. During the last years of the war, they had set up this connection so that one would know if the other needed help. This connection was very "dusty" though; it hadn't been used since the last time that they had spoken, right before Severus's trial some 15 years before. That was when Lucius had realized that Severus was a spy. And while he had not turned him in, he had stopped speaking to him. Lucius could just barely feel that connection at the edges of his consciousness. He had never let it go for some reason, perhaps feeling that it could still be useful. Now, his belief may have been justified. If he could reach through that bond to Severus, it would be a way to... no; the connection was still too weak. It was intact, but virtually unusable until Lucius had fully recovered. Using a bond of that nature took a substantial amount of energy.
At Hogwarts, Snape felt something at the edge of his mind, brushing against him. It was strange, but he could almost feel something through... but no, that was impossible. Lucius was dead. Dismissing it as wishful thinking, he shook his head and returned to his work.
Whew, another chapter done! And before anyone says anything, no this is not going to be slashy. Lucius and Snape were once as close as Sirius and James, so naturally Snape's betrayal of Voldemort would have caused some issues between these two friends. But anyway, please review, even if it's just to tell me to make the chapters longer or something.