Twenty-Five

Severus and Sirius spent their time together in a sort of suspended animation. They didn't read the Daily Prophet that was delivered every morning, Sirius didn't even read his letters from the Potters, and Severus ignored a few letters from Lucius (although he did read the postcard Narcissa sent from Venice). All in all, the world outside the walls of Malfoy Manor could have come to a crashing halt and neither Sirius nor Severus would have known or even cared. It was a small taste of what their life could be like, away from Hogwarts, without the threat of Voldemort's struggle for power. Sirius knew it was a long shot, but he couldn't help but hope Severus would change his mind about joining the Dark Lord's ranks.

They were sprawled out on the floor in the library; Severus had his nose buried in a thick Potions book and Sirius was pretending to read a Muggle spy novel. (He'd found a secret stash of them hidden behind some gruesome books on the Dark Arts and wondered which Malfoy was a closeted James Bond fan. He had his money on Lucius—it was so perfectly hypocritical.)

Sirius tossed his book aside after staring at the same sentence for fifteen minutes. Severus jerked out of his reading-stupor at the sound of the thick book thunking onto the carpet.

"What's wrong?" Severus frowned.

"Nothing," Sirius grinned. "I'm just more interested in you than James Bond."

Severus rolled his eyes. "My book is fascinating, so you'll just have to deal with it."

"If you say so," Sirius shrugged.

Severus returned his attention to his book, but he found it impossible to concentrate on the many uses of boomslang skin when Sirius began nibbling on his earlobe. Severus pretended not to notice and flipped through the book to read up on the Polyjuice Potion. He had brewed it a few times before, but he was certain there was a way to make the preparation more efficient and the potion more potent, and he was determined to find it.

Sirius, on the other hand, was determined to distract him from reading at all. He lay as close to Severus as he could on the floor, his lips caressing whatever bit of Severus' pale skin he could find. His left hand slipped beneath Severus' shirt to explore the smooth planes of Severus' back while his right tried to tug the book out of Severus' hands.

"Oh, fine." Severus sighed dramatically, and he tossed his book down next to Sirius'. Severus rolled so they were nose to nose on the floor. His eyes roved Sirius' face. This close, he could see the very faint freckles that were sprinkled across the bridge of Sirius' nose and over his cheekbones. There was a small scar below Sirius' bottom lip, and he wondered how he never noticed it before.

"How did that happen?" He traced it lightly with his fingertip.

"Reg and I were playing together on the stairs. I was six and he was five. We were having a race and on our way up, I tripped. I hit my chin on the stair and I bit through my bottom lip."

Severus winced, "Ouch."

"I don't actually remember it hurting very much. There was a lot of blood though and Reg was screaming. Mum was convinced that he was the one who'd gotten hurt. It took her so long to calm him down that she completely forgot about it until the next day, when it had already started to heal."

Sirius' face darkened, remembering the neglect and Severus pressed a kiss to the scar. "Was it nice, having your brother to play with when you were little?"

"It was good when we were too young to notice that there was favouritism going on. But then we both realised that Reg was getting the attention and I wasn't, so he started to use it to his advantage while I started to resent him. We haven't been on good terms since before Hogwarts."

"I always wanted a sibling." Severus confessed. "It was selfish, of course, because no one should want anybody to have to go through what I did with my parents, but I thought it would make things better having a brother or a sister. But it's good that I never did. It would have been one more person for Dad to hurt, for Mum to feel guilty about, for me to have to protect."

Sirius closed the space between them, pressing his lips to Severus. Discussing their families always made him feel terrible. Severus kissed back eagerly, wanting to put the conversation behind them. Their tongues tangled together and Sirius brought his hands to Severus' face, cradling it gently. Severus wound his arms around Sirius' waist and rolled onto his back, pulling the taller boy on top of him.

"I love you," Sirius murmured against Severus' lips.

Severus squeezed him a little tighter, "I love you too."

Narcissa stood on the balcony of the villa Lucius had rented. It had a wonderful view of the harbour and the canal beneath them. She enjoyed watching the city waking for the morning. The gondolas began to pass beneath her in the canal; some of the gondoliers waved to her and called out greetings in Italian.

Lucius stepped out on the to the balcony and stood beside her. She had been surprised to discover how relaxed Lucius was on holiday. She had even begun to think of him as two separate people, Holiday Lucius and Home Lucius. Holiday Lucius didn't care if his appearance was less than perfect, or if his dinner arrived more than half an hour after he ordered it, or if he got lost in a strange city. Holiday Lucius didn't mind letting Narcissa take charge of their plans for every day. In fact, Holiday Lucius didn't particularly care if Narcissa made a plan at all, or if they just wandered the city aimlessly.

As much as she was enjoying spending time with Holiday Lucius, though, Narcissa didn't think he could ever be this man at home. Something about being head of the household put him on edge and his responsibilities as a Malfoy and a Pureblood put an enormous amount of pressure on him.

Lucius reached out and tentatively slipped his arm around his wife's waist. It had been slow, but he really did believe they had made some progress since arriving in Venice.

A shooting pain shot through Narcissa's abdomen and she cried out. She doubled over, her arms wrapping around herself.

"Cissy," Lucius voice sounded panicked. "What's wrong?"

His question went unanswered as Narcissa's body slumped in a faint. He caught her and simultaneously turned on the spot.

It was a Wednesday morning and St Mungo's was quiet. Lucius had insisted his wife be given a private room, and for once Narcissa was pleased her husband was so demanding. She didn't want to have to share this pain with anyone else. Her mother had tried to visit, and her sister, but she had refused to see them. Lucius spent his days and his nights either pacing in the corridor outside her room or slumped in the armchair next to her bed.

She felt too young for this. She was only eighteen, still a child. How was it possible that she had already lost a baby? She hadn't even properly acknowledged that it was coming—sure she'd said the words and seen the signs, but it had not sunk in yet, it had not felt real. The Healers had said the baby hadn't been alive for some time before the miscarriage, as if that was supposed to make her feel better.

She felt empty and lost and guilty. It was her fault, she told herself, for not wanting it; her fault for fearing the impact of a child in her loveless—and at times hate-filled—marriage.

While Narcissa lay in bed, her back to Lucius, blaming herself, Lucius sat in the armchair, his eyes watching the shaking of his wife's shoulders as she cried and blamed himself. This was his punishment for forcing himself upon her and for hurting her irreparably. Monsters like him didn't deserve children.

Minutes or hours or days later—neither Lucius nor Narcissa could be sure how much time had passed exactly—Lucius crawled into the hospital bed behind his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his chest. They lay together, their individual guilt becoming mutual grief as they mourned what could have been.

Severus did not know Lucius and Narcissa had returned from Italy until Bitsy appeared in his room without warning. He and Sirius had just taken a shower and they were both only half dressed.

Bitsy wrung her hands in her Malfoy pillowcase. "My Mistress and her husband is returning today."

"What? They're coming home from Venice early?" Severus frowned, tugging a t-shirt over his head quickly. He didn't even notice that it was both Sirius' and inside out.

"Not Venice," Bisty shook her head violently, "St Mungo's. Mistress' baby died." Bitsy looked ready to burst into tears and Severus could understand why. This news was like getting punched in the stomach or having someone dump ice all over his insides. "When will they be back?"

"Half an hour." Bitsy said.

"Fuck," Sirius swore, beginning to collect his things from where they'd been scattered throughout the room.

"Thanks for warning us, Bitsy."

The house elf curtsied and disappeared again.

It took fifteen minutes for Sirius and Severus to pack Sirius' things. Both of them were too distracted to use magic.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked.

Severus nodded, "It's just a bit of a shock."

Sirius pulled Severus into a tight hug. Severus buried his face in Sirius' neck and looped his arms around Sirius' waist.

"I hate that you have to leave."

"I know. Me too."

"Someday, we'll have our own place somewhere out in the middle of nowhere where nobody will ever bother us or interrupt us."

Sirius couldn't say anything. He hated playing the 'someday' game with Severus, because Severus had a way of conveniently forgetting Voldemort and Lucius and James and Remus and Peter that Sirius was never quite capable of.

Instead, he tilted Severus' face up to his and kissed him and hoped it was enough for five weeks' worth of separation.

"You'd better turn your shirt right side out," Sirius tried to grin and failed miserably. "Or Lucius is going to know you've been fooling around with your secret boyfriend."

Severus didn't even bother trying to laugh at Sirius' feeble joke. He just pulled Sirius to him for another kiss, whispering his 'I love yous' against Sirius' lips. Although it kept happening, it never got any easier watching Sirius walk away from him.

Upon returning from the hospital, Lucius carried Narcissa into their bedroom and Severus didn't see either of them for a week and a half. When he was in a selfish mood, he would think that Sirius could have stayed and Lucius would have absolutely no idea. But then he would feel guilty for complaining about being separated from his boyfriend when Lucius and Narcissa's problems were so much bigger. He spent his time holed up in the library, writing Sirius and doing the summer schoolwork that he'd been putting off.

Narcissa lay cocooned in bed, Lucius curved protectively around her, the curtains pulled closed over the windows and the door to the corridor firmly shut.

Sometimes she and Lucius would whisper in the dark, sometimes they would cry, sometimes he would coax her into eating the food that the house elves brought, but they were always together. It was a consistency that had been missing before. She felt comforted by the knowledge that in the midst of all this chaos, Lucius was there, holding her and keeping her from slipping into some sort of abyss.

One time when she woke (she had no idea if it was morning or afternoon or evening), Lucius was still asleep. She lay next to him and studied his relaxed face. She admired the straight slope of his nose, the strength of his jaw, the fullness of his lips. He was beautiful but still masculine and she wondered how she'd never noticed before. She wondered also why she was noticing now of all times. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him because she wanted to, not because she had to. What would it be like to make love to him because she wanted to, or would she ever really want to at all? She thought about whether he would make a good father and whether they would ever find out for sure.

Lucius awoke suddenly, as if he felt her eyes on his face, and caught her looking.

"Do you need anything?" He whispered.

She shook her head. "No."

He nodded and surprised both of them by pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Narcissa's thoughts were still chasing each other in circles, and she knew there were things she wanted to say him, but she just didn't know how.

"Actually, I think I do need something."

"Okay," Lucius nodded.

"I need to try something."

Before she could lose her nerve, Narcissa closed the space between herself and her husband and pressed her lips to his. It began somewhat clumsily, as Narcissa wasn't entirely sure what she was doing, but Lucius returned his wife's kiss gently and tenderly. He was not entirely sure what she was looking for, but he was willing to give her whatever she needed.

When Narcissa pulled away, she snuggled closer to Lucius and pillowed her head on his chest, her eyelids drifting closed again. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to. Lucius understood what forgiveness looked like.

Sev,

How are things there?

James just got back from visiting Lily. According to him, her parents are lovely and her sister is horrid. Does that sound right to you?

James has invited Remus and Peter to come stay before school starts again. Personally, I think he's just gotten bored with trying to bully me into playing Quidditch, but that doesn't mean I'm not looking forward to seeing Moony and Wormtail. (For future reference, James is Prongs and I'm Padfoot. I'll give you a reward if you can put that clever brain of yours to work and figure out what they mean.)

I've had a letter from Walburga informing me that now I've run away and taken my newfound fortune with me, I can fund my own education from this point forward. I'm quite tempted to just keep my money and drop out of school. (Don't scowl at me like that—and don't pretend that you're not scowling right now either, I know you too well—you know I'm joking.)

I miss you.

Love, Sirius

Severus pulled out a sheet of parchment and inked his quill. He got halfway though writing Sirius' name when a loud crack startled him. He splotched ink on the parchment and turned quickly.

Bitsy was standing in the middle of his room, wringing her hands and looking incredibly nervous. Severus had learned that Narcissa's house elf was almost always nervous, but this was the most anxious Severus had seen her.

"Bitsy? What's wrong?"

"There is a Lord Voldemort waiting in the drawing room. Master Lucius said he and Mistress Narcissa is not to be disturbed."

Severus took a gulp of air, "Right. Okay. I'll talk to him."

Bitsy nodded and Severus followed her down the stairs, his heart leaping into his throat.

Lord Voldemort was a tall middle-aged man with jet-black hair, threaded with streaks of silver. He had the appearance of someone who had once been handsome, but the aging process had clearly not been very kind to him. His skin was waxy and pale—paler even than Severus'—and his eyes were bloodshot, like someone who didn't ever get enough sleep. His smile was reptilian and his fingers, when they reached out to shake Severus' hand in greeting, were cold and long.

"Young Mr Snape," Lord Voldemort said, with a smile that didn't reach his dark eyes.

"Good afternoon, my lord," Severus greeted him with deference. "Lucius sends his apologies. He and Narcissa are both under the weather. They've been bedridden for a week now."

"How unfortunate," Lord Voldemort continued smiling falsely. "Please to give them my best wishes for a speedy recovery."

"I will do that," Severus said, taking a step backwards. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Oh, no. My visit shall be very brief. It is you, Severus, I wanted to speak to anyway."

"Oh?" Severus felt confusion and then apprehension.

"I was hoping you would be willing to keep up a correspondence with me over the upcoming school year. I do so like to know how all my potential supporters are doing in their studies."

Severus felt a shiver go down his spine and hoped the other man did not notice. Lord Voldemort was asking him to report on all the other future Death Eaters. The Slytherin in him could not help but preen at the honour of being singled out.

"I would be honoured to write you, my lord," Severus bowed his head respectfully.

"Oh, excellent," Voldemort smiled again, while his eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. "Young Regulus Black had such complimentary things to say about you."

Severus knew the Dark Lord was lying; Regulus wouldn't say anything complimentary about anyone (let alone Severus)if it might put him behind in Voldemort's favour. This was certainly some kind of test, and Severus just wished he could figure out what kind.

"That was surprisingly kind of Regulus," Severus said finally, with a smirk.

Lord Voldemort threw his head back and laughed. It was a high and chilling sound that set Severus' teeth on edge, but when he stopped and he looked at Severus again, his expression was slightly less terrifying. "You do amuse me, Severus. I look forward to your letters."

With that, the Dark Lord swept out of the drawing room. As soon as he was gone, Severus' knees gave out and he dropped onto the sofa, his heart racing and his stomach twisting into knots. What had he gotten himself into?

A/N: Oooh, that Voldemort. He's about as much fun as Walburga. ; )

Just want to send out a thank you to all of my reviewers, and everybody that's been adding this story to your favourite lists. Every review really makes my day and I want to thank you all so much for the all the wonderful things you've said about this fic. I love writing it, and I'm so thrilled that there are people out there that are enjoying it so much.

Anyway, can't wait to see what you think about this one!