First Hours of Freedom

23rd December 2003 Part 2


Lucius Malfoy, for the first time in years, felt like himself again, minus his magic of course. He was healed and wearing his own clothes and finally free from Azkaban prison. He was sat in front of an ornate stone fireplace which bore the Prince coat of arms and he was happily drinking from a glass of fine scotch as he looked across at Severus who seemed content to simply stare into the flames, drinking from his own glass in silence. But after years in prison, most of it spent alone save for Severus own visits, Lucius found that he didn't much care for silence any longer.

Outside Prince Manor, a considerable number of Aurors patrolled the grounds and neither man sitting there that night wanted to think about that either.

"This is going to take some getting used to," Lucius remarked, finally deciding to break the hated silence. He gestured to the metal band around his wrist with a disdainful sneer. "Do you know...I tired to summon my wand earlier...and I couldn't understand why it wouldn't work," he said. "It gave me a nasty little shock," Lucius added, rubbing that same wrist.

"You were warned," Severus told him.

"I can't change a lifetime of habitual magic in an instant," he protested. In prison it had been different, he'd been, well, a prisoner, but here he was meant to be free. In reality it was a prison by another name for a wizard who was still unable to use his magic.

"You'll have to."

"At least feign sympathy...for once in your life, just a little," Lucius sighed.

"Perhaps later," Severus retorted.

"You're feeling very charitable, clearly," the blonde grumbled.

"You're sitting in my house through my efforts, drinking my scotch and Narcissa is waiting upstairs for you after several years of endless pining...forgive me if I can't muster up any pity for you," Severus scoffed and downed the remainder of his scotch.

"Ah...there's the crux of it," Lucius grinned. "I have the beautiful Narcissa waiting for me but for you there's only an empty bedroom. You're lonely aren't you, Severus?" he asked.

"Grow up, Lucius."

"Surely there's no shortage of witches for you. You never had a problem before. You're a war hero with an Order of Merlin. I'd imagine that only helps matters."

"I suggest you stop talking," Severus glared at him but rather than being intimidated, his friend chuckled quietly.

"Fine, fine," Lucius shrugged, "I'm only trying to help."

"Well, don't."

Lucius valiantly stopped laughing and nodded his head in mock seriousness. "Pass the scotch," he said and a moment later, the glass decanter floated over to him steadily without even a word or movement from Severus. He filled up his glass and took a satisfying sip from it. "Ah, wherever did you find this. It's really very good," he remarked.

"The cellar. Apparently my great grandfather hoarded it."

"So there's more?"

"Plenty."

"How much more?"

"Enough that several decades of your famous Malfoy celebrations wouldn't even make a dent."

"Splendid," Lucius smiled, satisfied.

"You're not going to spend your days working through my scotch collection," Severus sighed.

"Well, what else can I do? I'm powerless now. I can't do anything. I have no status no money no...nothing."

"Get a hobby."

"Such as?"

"...Stamp collecting?"

"No," Lucius snapped and Severus shrugged.

"You'll have to do something," the headmaster retorted.

"I can't exactly go galavanting off to Paris like Draco now, can I? I can't even leave this house!"

"As I said before, you're welcome to return to Azkaban."

"Is it your mission today to annoy me?"

"I don't think you realise just how fortunate you are. The others who bore the Mark are dead, all of them I should think and before that, they spent years as the play things of the Dementors and the Aurors. You're not only alive, but you're out of prison as well."

"True," Lucius nodded, reluctantly, "But my life will never be what it was."

"Be grateful you still have it," Severus retorted and his friend pursed his lip. "I could have very easily let you rot in there. I didn't have to waste my time and effort on you. You certainly wouldn't have done the same for me," he said, harshly.

"You're right," Lucius sighed. "I've already proven that, haven't I?" he said and he couldn't help but think about all the times he'd left his friend to fend for himself against the Dark Lord, not just the time in the Shrieking Shack.

"Yes, you have. So unless you have something else to say beyond your pathetic whining, you'll shut up and drink your damn scotch."

"...Duly noted," the blonde sighed heavily and leaned back in his arm chair. "I'm not...ungrateful, really, I just..." he began but Severus stopped him.

"I've had two very long years of listening to your equally privileged wife say the same things that you, no doubt, are going to complain about now. I don't want a repeat. If you have problems, speak to Narcissa. She'll never be happy about it, but at least she's come to terms with it all. You've no idea how lucky you've both been in life...but then again, you never did. Did you?"

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Lucius demanded, haughtily.

"Oh, don't act so sanctimonious. You're a spoilt, privileged, self righteous bastard and you know it. You've had a lifetime of simply wanting something and being able to get it in an instant..."

"You've always been jealous of my wealth..."

"Damn right I have. I'd have given my wand arm for a fraction of what you had," Severus glared at him.

"Well, now we're on the subject, my life wasn't always perfect, you know!"

"Huh," Severus scoffed. "Yes. I know. You've told me. Your mother was a hypochondriac who rarely saw anyone and your father was a manipulative egotist and you saw him even less than your mother," he sneered. "What I would have given...for distant parents," he said, ruefully.

"The nannies I had growing up..."

"Oh, please, spare me," he rested his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. "You had nannies...as in plural...and you're complaining about them. Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?" he asked.

"I..."

"I'm not getting into this debate," the headmaster sighed, his voice hoarse and rough. "Not again. It was bad enough having to explain it all to your wife. I don't think my patience could survive it a second time. Do you possibly think we could have a conversation...a civilised conversation...like adults?"

"I was having a perfectly..." Lucius protested but stopped when Severus stared at him. "Yes, alright, alright. I'll...I'm...sorry. I may need some time to...adjust. It's been...a long day and your patience is...appreciated," he said, slowly.

"I'll bet that hurt to say," Severus remarked, a little surprised that Lucius had relented so easily.

Lucius gave him a small smile and held up his glass before he drained its expensive contents.

"Do you remember...before the war," the blonde began after a while. "I've been wondering about it for a while, actually, nothing much else to do in prison but remember things and count stones. The Dark Lord...I mean, he wasn't always such a..."

"Manic?" Severus suggested.

"He was so...charismatic. So different. What changed?"

"Don't delude yourself," Severus snapped. "He was always...unhinged. I don't suppose being the victim of a rebounded killing curse addled his mind anymore than it already was."

"Ah...that's where it all went wrong," Lucius lamented.

"It went wrong long before that."

"No, it didn't. We were winning we could have easily taken on the Ministry and won but then he had to go after Potter and...that boy...it ruined everything."

"That 'boy' saved your life," Severus raised an eyebrow.

"To lord it over me at some point in the near future, no doubt," Lucius hissed.

"If you say so."

"You still think I'm a fool for thinking that we were on the right side, don't you?" the blonde asked him, "I can't change my way of thinking now. I'm too old."

"I don't expect you to change and I'm not optimistic enough to believe that a second prison sentence was enough to convince you otherwise. But if it's going to be a problem between us..."

"Merlin, no," Lucius shook his head, quickly. "I shouldn't have mentioned it, I know. I just...I didn't have anyone else to talk to about it and I just wanted to know why it all...why he changed so...dramatically. It wasn't fear that drew us to him in the first place but...it was fear that kept us there in the end. In spite of everything...I can't help but hate him even though I once looked up to him. You did too. That's why he marked us."

"The Mark is gone," Severus reminded him.

"Not exactly," Lucius said, gently rubbing a hand over his forearm where the blackened burn was hidden by his sleeve. When the Dark Mark had been removed by Harry it had left an identical burn scar on Lucius' arm as it had on Severus' and they would likely never heal.

"...No...and I know what you meant...about the Dark Lord. He did...change over time. I suppose it was the consequences of what he'd become and a...a side effect of his resurrection. He was...charismatic. He was a great leader. He inspired people to follow him in the early days and then he resorted to intimidation."

"I don't know how to live in a world that we were trying to destroy," Lucius confessed, "You make it look so easy."

"Easy? I still get letters laced with poisons and howlers telling me that Death Eaters deserve to die. There's an ongoing petition to have me removed from Hogwarts and for my Order of Merlin to be burned. There's still plenty of people who'd be delighted to see me behind bars, believe me."

"Maybe. But at least you can say that you were...a spy. You defied him."

"You left him too, in the end," Severus remarked.

"Out of fear," the blonde muttered, remembering the Battle of Hogwarts and how he had fled with his family. "When it was clear that we were loosing," he added.

"Yes, but you did it."

"If he appeared right now I can't say I wouldn't do as he asked."

"Because you want to or because you're afraid of him?"

"I...don't know."

"You've plenty of time to think about the answer," Severus replied.

"I suppose I do but that's not much of a hobby, is it?"

"I think I saw some golf equipment in the attic."

"No," Lucius sighed.

"Go upstairs to your wife," Severus said, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "Your little moral quandary and hobby hunting will still be there for you to pick at in the morning," he added.

"And the Aurors will still be outside, too," Lucius retorted.

"Yes, they will."

"That's just...brilliant."

"Isn't it just?" Severus gave him a sarcastic smirk.

"I hate Aurors," Lucius grumbled.

"And they hate us. We're a match made in heaven."

"Huh, if that's heaven, you can keep it," the blonde snorted, inelgantly. "I'll stick with this excellent scotch and my lovely wife," he said, setting down his now empty glass and standing up. "Have your house elf send us a wake up call in the morning for breakfast, would you? Some time after nine o'clock, perhaps," he added haughtily.

"This isn't a hotel," Severus told him but Lucius was already walking away.

The blonde raised a hand either in dismissal or acknowledgement, Severus wasn't quite sure which, but Lucius didn't turn around. His friend wasn't at all surprised. He had a feeling that learning to survive without magic was going to a lot harder for Lucius than it had been for Narcissa and the thought filled him with horror and very small trace of amusement. Lucius always did act like he was king of the world, if nothing else it was going to be entertaining as he discovered his new limitations.