With Narcissa's departure, loneliness came crashing down on him. Lucius had never paid much attention to his wife, and he understood only now how much he needed her. Her quiet support had kept him from falling into complete melancholy, but now there was nothing to hold it back.

That evening he got drunk, and almost forgot to open the fireplace to the Unspeakables. At exactly ten in the morning they carried in a Charmed crate containing artifacts and books, and he spent two hours going over the list with them, to make sure everything specified in the contract was delivered safe and sound. Everything was in good order, as expected. How boring. Lucius spent the rest of the day returning the relics to their rightful places. At least this distracted him somewhat from his heavy thoughts.

The next day, an official notification arrived, informing him that the investigation into the Dark Mark was complete. Of course, the Wizengamot was in no hurry to revoke the traveling ban, which meant that the reconciliation with his wife would have to be postponed indefinitely. On the other hand, the Prophet finally ran the long-awaited sensational news that, thanks to the efforts of the Department of Mysteries, Sirius Black was returned. The rest of the issue was dedicated to the story of his life, the tragedy of his disappearance, and to various interviews. And there was not a single word mentioning that it was Lucius Malfoy who helped him return. But this was no more than what he expected. Lucius glanced distractedly over the interviews with Potter, Andromeda, the Minister and Gringott's goblins, over the photographs... Black looked terribly worn out, but happy.

When Lucius caught himself smiling as he stared at Black's photograph, he threw the newspaper down and incinerated it with a wave of his wand. No, Black could not mean anything to him! He merely fulfilled his duty, and the fact that he and Black fucked—that was nothing special. Feelings were not necessary for sex, anyway. But he couldn't deny that when he was with Black, for some reason he felt wonderfully good. Suddenly he wanted another drink, but he resisted the urge and got up from the table with determination. It would be better to dedicate his time to work. Something to distract him, such as trying to contact suppliers of rare ingredients, for example.

A large black owl was waiting for him in his study. It was sitting on the windowsill with its feathers ruffled sullenly; there was a small dark box tied to its leg. The moment Lucius freed the owl of its burden, it fluttered out the window. There was no inscription on the package. He had no intention of taking a risk by opening some mysterious container. He called a house elf and ordered her to take the package to the edge of the Manor grounds and peek into the box. She vanished, then reappeared a moment later with the open box in her hands. There was a note and a wand at the bottom.

"There is no danger, master." The elf bowed.

Something is off here. Lucius Summoned the note. The handwriting was unfamiliar.

"As a token of my gratitude for saving my godfather, I would like to give you this wand. Mr. Olivander said that it will choose anyone who picks it up. Since there are restrictions on your own wand, you can use this one until they are lifted. Thank you again. Harry Potter."

His intuition screamed that this was a trap. Harry Potter could not have done anything like this, it just made no sense. Of course, the boy was known for a certain disregard for the law, but to give an untraceable wand to a former Death Eater? No. Never.

"Tippy, go to the edge of the grounds and..."

The house wards shivered, notifying him of a breach. Interrupting himself, Lucius grabbed his own wand and ran out into the hall. He looked out the window cautiously, and saw a Grim standing in the lane. Black. But how? Lucius rushed outside.

"What are you doing here?!" He pointed the wand at him, although he was not sure he was capable of casting a curse at Black.

There was an explosion behind him. Lucius was thrown forward. In the same instant, Black turned human and covered him with his body. The ground rocked again. Lucius put his arms over his head. Crumbling stone and slivers of glass rained down from above; a column collapsed and shattered right beside them.

They lay unmoving for some time, but nothing else happened. Lucius stirred. A sudden pain pierced his arm.

"Black, get off me."

Black stayed pressed into him for another moment, then raised himself with an effort and fell back down next to him.

"What is the meaning of all this?"

"The Grim comes to the condemned," Black explained, rather incoherently.

Lucius raised his wounded arm and inspected it—it had been slashed in several places by shrapnel. A matter of moments. He raised his wand, recited a spell, and the wounds began to close.

"Are you alright, Black?"

He nodded, moved a little, and winced.

"I bruised my knee when I fell on top of you, but it's not that bad. Is Narcissa in the house?"

"If she were in there, I would not be lolling about here with you. No, she left the country, and I'm here alone, not counting the elves. So, what happened, Black?"

He shrugged and looked away.

"You were supposed to die."

"Oh, right, the Grim..." he smirked. "Except, according to legend, those it appears to cannot be saved."

"Unless the Grim itself intervenes." Black smiled weakly.

"Explain."

He closed his eyes and winced.

"It's hard to explain... I'm the Hound of Death. He let me go, granting me the ability to see the condemned and to appear in their path, but in return he took away my own self. He took away my mind, my feelings, my self-confidence. But you gave me back all that. Now I'm myself again, but I still remain the Hound of Death."

"You figured out that I was supposed to die, and decided to save me? How noble! Well, consider us even. I saved you, you saved me. It's great. Now you can go. I have to call the Aurors now and sort out what happened here."

"Malfoy, why do you always have to be such a..."

"A what?"

"As if you don't care. As if you could spit on everything that happened between us."

"Was there something between us?" Lucius raised an eyebrow when he saw Black's face change from astonishment to a distorted grimace of rage.

In a split second Black was pressing him into the ground.

"Listen, you... If you think that everything is over, well, fuck that! I told you that he's hunting you, and it's the truth. That's why I..." he paused, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Black..."

Black interrupted him by smashing their mouths together. At first Lucius resisted, but then gave in to the assault and opened his mouth, letting in Black's tongue. The kiss was tinged with a slight bitterness, but it tasted surprisingly sweet to him. After all, it's not love. He was just trying to save his own life, as usual. And the good sex could be considered a pleasant bonus thrown into the bargain. And the fact that his heart was pounding, as if yearning to leap out of his chest, and his soul was overflowing with something resembling happiness... well, he could just consider that an insignificant side effect.