Part III: But We Hae Meat, and We Can Eat

Chapter 24: A Meeting With Lucius

On returning from the hospital wing, Meli found that it was time to brew more pain potions. She had enough for the recovery from her latest episode and perhaps one more, if it was mild. Unfortunately, there were never mild episodes anymore; Voldemort, as predicted, was a great deal more brutal this time around.

To make matters worse, she had allowed her stock of certain ingredients to get dangerously low, and none of those could be obtained in either Hogsmeade or the Forbidden Forest. In fact, she knew of only one herbalist who carried all of them, and his shop was in London, on Diagon Alley. That in itself was not a problem; the problem lay rather in the specific location of his shop. In going there, Meli would have to walk past Knockturn Alley, a place which, when circumstances permitted, she avoided at all cost.

It was not at all that she feared Knockturn Alley; indeed, her comfort level in that environment would disturb most, and might even draw the suspicious eyes of Aurors. She had gone there often enough as a child, however, that for better or worse, the place could not bother her. What did bother her were the inhabitants and patrons that hung about Knockturn Alley. Not all were Death Eaters, but none were savory, and all were practitioners of the Dark Arts. She was most wary of those who were not Death Eaters, for they were under no orders to protect her life, and it was pretty generally known that she was Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

In the end, however, she was not willing to subject herself to a stay in the hospital wing under the over-zealous eye of Poppy Pomfrey, simply to spare herself an unpleasant but brief walk by Knockturn Alley once in a very great while.

So it was that, at her earliest convenience, Meli apparated to London with a shopping list in her pocket and a countenance of such dark irritation that people made way for her as she had seen them do only for such imposing figures as Snape and Zarekael. While this is convenient and more than a little amusing, she thought, I doubt it's any help to my already spotty reputation.

She made her way silently, however, resolving to pass Knockturn Alley and pretend that it wasn't there.

She would have succeeded in this willful self-delusion had someone emerging from that lane not run straight into her a bare second after her neck went cold.

Meli glared fiercely at the offender, and her mood showed no improvement when she recognized him. Their collision had slightly mussed his shoulder-length blond hair, but it had done nothing to throw into disarray his arrogant air.

"Watch your step!" he snapped, not yet recognizing her.

"Lucius," Meli replied through her teeth. "What a regrettable meeting. I hope you've been thoroughly miserable?"

He did a double-take, then narrowed his eyes. "There was a time when you called me Mr. Malfoy, brat," he said coldly.

"Such titles demonstrate respect or the pretension thereof," she retorted. "I am no longer a child and have no need for such pretensions."

"Nevertheless, Phamelia," Malfoy hissed, "you should have care when addressing your betters."

Meli remained unmoved. "You and your ilk are not my betters," she growled. "And as I told your murdering coward of a wife ten years ago, my name is not Phamelia."

He was, as she'd hoped, angered. "How dare you!"

"I state merely the facts of the matter," she answered calmly. "I had nothing to do with her choice to be either a coward or a murderess; I just observe the case." She smirked. "And as for my having care, Lucius, enlighten me: What are you going to do about it? Make me miserable? You can only do that if I allow myself to be miserable, and if only to spite you, I won't allow it.

"Or will you torture me?" She laughed mockingly. "Even if no one were around to arrest you for it, you know quite well that the worst tormenting curse at your disposal is nothing to what I regularly go through.

"Or perhaps you'd prefer to kill me?" By now she was sneering openly at him. "That would be highly amusing. Even if you had the gumption, you'd be a walking dead man; there's no way to keep Voldemort from finding out you did it."

Malfoy was seething. His power over others lay in fear and intimidation, and she afforded him neither.

"You're pathetic," she spat. "Even if Voldemort falls and you survive, you will grovel forever in the shadow of wizards greater than yourself. Take your over-inflated superiority complex and go try to impress someone else; I have a life, thanks." She pushed past him.

He at last found his tongue. "I have made you miserable," he called softly after her. "I'm the one who found the Goldens."

She turned around and rolled her eyes, using disdain to mask the anger that burned in her stomach. "You're not telling me anything I don't already know," she shot back. "And as for you finding them—do you expect me to be impressed? Is that supposed to convince me that you're a force to be reckoned with? The actual killer's deeds were far more stunning, and I know the killer can't have been you. You have neither the stomach nor the guts to kill in such a way." She stepped in close to him, her eyes slitted like a pit viper's. "Whoever that person may be, you will grovel in his or her shadow as you grovel in Voldemort's now. You fancy yourself brutal, Lucius, but you—are—nothing!" So saying, she spun on her heel and left Malfoy to stare after her, the first traces of self-doubt mingling with a newfound fear of the child, now a woman, who had dared to defy his master.

Meli, for her part, neither faltered nor stopped until she arrived at the herbalist's shop. Once inside, she paused only long enough to draw a ragged breath, and then she presented her list to the shopkeeper.

She had done it; she had faced off against a loyal inner-circle Death Eater, had told him exactly what she thought of him (and his wife), and had walked away unscathed. Moreover, she had, in a strange and twisted way, stood up for Zarekael, and—highly ironically—given credit where credit was due, for something for which no decent person would wish to claim credit, while simultaneously denying Lucius Malfoy any possibility of victory.

What a thoroughly odd friendship, Meli thought wonderingly as she double-checked the herbalist's measures and handed over the necessary funds for purchase. In defending him, I have no problem with pointing out to Malfoy that Zarekael killed one of my friends and her family—without even leaving a clue that I know he did it. She carefully distributed her purchases in several pockets in her cloak and duster, then returned to the street. I could be mistaken, but I don't think that's entirely normal.

Two days after her run-in with Lucius Malfoy, Meli received a surprise at breakfast.

Snape and Zarekael were already seated at the table when she arrived. They greeted her, then returned to their meals; Meli sat down beside Snape and reached for a pitcher of pumpkin juice, stopping briefly when she caught sight of a piece of parchment on her plate. It read:

Saw M. last night.

Beautiful.

SS Z

Meli carefully poured her pumpkin juice, set down the pitcher, and turned to Snape and Zarekael, barely restraining a smile. She pretended to look at her fingernails, then polished her knuckles and smirked. The display elicited knowing smirks from the other two, who then once more returned to the task of eating.

These actions had not gone unnoticed by others, however. As she took a sip of juice, she looked up to see Ron Weasley and Harry Potter staring back at her with wonder and more than a little worry.

And Severus thought I was joking when I told him the students didn't believe he had a sense of humor, she mused, smiling slightly. There lies the proof of my words.