Chapter 46
"And where are you headed, Lucius?" I sighed, though not loud enough for him to hear. He must have been half deaf anyway. I turned around to see Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts' current loon-master extraordinaire.
"Hogsmeade, Headmaster." I was lying blatantly to a man who they said could read minds. But I felt no fear. Dumbledore was harmless. Relatively.
"Really, Lucius?" He was analyzing me behind his ridiculous half-moon spectacles.
"Yes, Headmaster." I tell you, it took a great amount of effort not to roll my eyes at him. It annoyed me to no end when people demanded confirmation for things. The only people allowed to do that, in my book, were: A. Myself, and B. Lily. That was it.
"Then—I wonder—as a prefect—could you do your headmaster a favor and get me something nice from Honeydukes? Tell them Albus ordered it. They won't charge." Another, mischievous smile. My lip twitched in a pale semblance of one, for courtesy's sake.
"Of course, Headmaster." Then hurried out, ignoring the chill of the January air. What did that fool think he was doing? At least I knew how to Apparate.
The journey to the gates of Hogwarts didn't take very long. Asides from a few reminiscences, not much went through my mind. Then, of course, I apparated to the Black Market.
The Black Market, as I know I mentioned previously, was owned by the Blacks. It was in a secluded place to the far north of Hogsmeade. Stalls upon stalls of smuggled goods were piled upon each other in a way that would have been impossible, had their foundations not been supported by magic. Dark alleyways sprang up in the smallest cracks. The markets lacked in proper ventilation, and, therefore, smelled perpetually of poisonous fish, and dragon dung. Those two were the most popularly smuggled items, both being rather dangerous if treated with the proper ingredients.
The ministry knew all about it, of course. But, their knowledge of it (and continued ignorance) was kept very hush-hush. The Blacks had always been on the Ministry's top-ten list of most. . . ahem. . . charitable wizarding families. The Malfoys were number one; what else did you expect? And so, due to our overwhelmingly 'charitable' impulses, the Ministry allowed us certain. . . privileges.
Instead of following the disgusting, poorer-than-a-Weasley crowd into the alleys, I veered sharply to the left, towards a normal, if slightly derelict, building. If I was right (and, I always was), I would fine none other than my—well, you muggles would call him a godfather—but, in wizarding terms, he was a First Uncle. Vincente Mordum Black.
I rapped sharply on the door. Silence. He was performing the spell to see who was inside, no doubt. After a moment, the door opened.
"Uncle," I acknowledged. He nodded.
"What brings you here, Lucius?" He motioned for me to sit down, but I shook my head, no. This, in the subtle workings of Pureblood manners, showed that I was in a hurry.
"An. . . ingredient, for a potion I was working on."
"And this ingredient might be?"
"The scale of the Red Mermaid. I hope it's available this time of year, Uncle—is it in season?" A bit of small talk, to be polite.
"You're a rather lucky young man, aren't you, Lucius? I just ordered a casket of them yesterday. You see, an acquaintance of mine ordered, and I decided to get more just in case. It's in the store room at the back. I'll take you."
And so I found myself in the store room, enchanted to be as cold as a muggle 'fridge', for the very same purposes. But, obviously, not for the very same ingredients.
"Here it is." He gave me small packet which gave off quite powerfully the smell of fish. It wasn't red, as the name indicated— instead it was closer to maroon.
As I was leaving the office, something—I don't know what—prompted me to ask him the question that had been niggling in my mind.
"Who was that acquaintance of yours that ordered the scales?"
"Oh, you probably haven't heard of him, locked up in that school of yours. Great wizard—might be Salazar himself reincarnated, some think. Voldemort. Lord Voldemort, that's his name. Rather odd sounding. In a nice way, of course," he amended hastily. This in itself was strange—Vincente Mordum Black was not one to 'amend' things. He said them, and meant it. My Lord must have done something for him—or to him.
"Good-bye, Uncle. Father will settle the account?"
"Of course. Good-bye, Lucius."
My next stop, thanks to a particularly meddling, half-fossilized Headmaster, was Hogsmeade. To get candy. In Honeydukes. I hadn't been to that place since I was five. I wasn't really one for sweets, unless the occasional urge took me.
I apparated to far end of the village, conscious of how the constraints of time were holding me. I would have to hurry (and I hated doing this profusely). Just as I'd begun what could have been a nice little walk, I head something. Or, unfortunately, someone.
"Look, Evans, how bad could it be? We still have a bit before it gets dark. Let's go somewhere. Just because we're at each others throats every other second, doesn't mean we can't have fun." Potter. And Lily. Of all the people I had to overhear, it had to be them.
"Well, Potter, you know I wouldn't go out with you if you were the last person on earth, don't you?" I tried not to laugh.
"Do you have to be so harsh?"
"Do you have to be so thick? Okay, I'm sorry. But really James. I—I'm waiting for someone." Who was she waiting for? Not I, surely—we hadn't seen each other in days, and I'd made no plans with her. Unless. . .
"Fine then." Potter stalked off like a petulant child. Interesting.
Silence. A rather long silence. I was afraid to move—that would make noise. But that road was the only way to Honeydukes. My mind raced. Was there another way? If I went by the old bridge—
Sobs. Muffled, and held back, but they were sobs. I recognized them. I'd heard her cry before, and I'd hoped I would never have to hear those heart wrenching sniffles again.
"Lucius. Stop trying to hide from me. If you don't want to see me anymore, you can just say it." Her voice trembled. For once, I knew what was going on in her mind. She felt rejected.
"Lily—it's not that—I--" I'd never bothered to make excuses before.
"Then what is it? What makes you send Severus disguised as yourself to visit me in the hospital wing? What makes you avoid me like the plague? I thought you were different. I thought you understood me. I thought—I thought—I don't know what I thought. But—it sounds stupid to say it now, but—I thought you cared for me. Enough to—to say goodbye properly, at least." She was being bitter. My sweet, innocent, wonderful Lily was being bitter and it was all my fault.
"How did you know?" My voice had declined in its quality— and, as it seemed, my mind. I couldn't lie to her. Not anymore.
"I didn't notice it then—not right away. But you—he—he smelled of herbs. He didn't smell like you—you smell—rich. Expensive. Like a Malfoy. He smelled—different. I knew something was—off—but I didn't want to believe it." She sat on the grass at the side of the road, her head buried in her hands. Then, she looked back up at me, green eyes clear and piercing. I'd never before experienced the power she held in her gaze. "What did you do Lucius? And I know you're going to do something else. I just don't know what. You don't tell me anything anymore."
"Lily—I—I can't talk right now. Prefect business. Headmaster wants something important." All right, that was stretching the truth a bit there, but I didn't want to have to tell her.
"If we can't talk now, then when can we talk?" I couldn't refuse her. I never could.
"The edge of the Forbidden Forest. In an hour." My heart was beating faster with every word. What was I doing? No sooner had I asked myself this when I found the answer. I knew what I was doing. I was going to tell the truth. Most of it.
And with that, I turned away from her, and headed for Honeydukes.
Author's Notes:
The big, dreaded, final talk is coming. It's not the end—that'll be in a few chapters. I'm a bit sad right now. Blame it on PoA. EEP!!!! I can't wait to see it!! I was supposed to watch it tomorrow on it's opening, but, as I'm watching it with Granny (who had a previous engagement), I have to wait 'til Thursday. Ho hum. Oh well.
Thank you to Briana Marie! I mean, you review my story even though I haven't read yours in ages!! Hope it didn't take too long to write this up! smile
