Chapter Twenty Eight:: Day Two

Lucius leaned back in his chair and sighed, thinking over the events of the night before, in particular, the conversation he had had with Professor Severus Snape.

He had arrived before the evening had quite had the chance to begin. Narcissa's house elf, who she claimed after the loss of Dobby to that pest Potter, had interrupted a heart-to-heart with his son, Draco.

"Sir," Myles squeaked, "Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, Godfather to the young master, has arrived and now wishes to speak with you – at present, and after the evening closes."

"Tell him I will be with him shortly." He answered, staring hard at his son, a frighteningly quiet anger smoldering behind his eyes. "We will continue this later." Lucius had then turned and strode out the door, angry at his son for lying, angry with that girl for being a cause for him to lie, and angry with himself for handling it the way he did.

Storming quietly up the steps, hard enough to feel a bit placated – quiet enough so no one would have cause for annoyance – he continued down the hall to his study, praying – for his friend's sake – that what Severus wanted to talk about wouldn't be anything worthy of his wrath.

Severus Snape stood by the hearth in Lucius' study, looking extremely uncomfortable in his stiff dress robes. He was waiting for the telltale slam of the door in that irritating way that so few could do properly – so far, Severus had met only four who could accomplish the slam the Malfoy way. He could always tell what kind of mood he was in by the slam.

"Lucius." He greeted mildly, as though in his own home.

"Severus." He replied tersely.

Not a good mood.

"What, pray tell," Lucius began as he settled himself into his favorite chair, long legs folded irritably over the arm, "Is the nature of your visit? Two hours before the official visit, I might add?"

Few besides Severus would be able to note the tension laced through Lucius' body.

Sighing, he decided to bring this anxiety to attention and get it over with. "I will tell you, in a moment. First though, there is something that otherwise holds your attention." After a moment's sullen silence, he sighed again. "Lucius, please. Spill."

He was rewarded with a wan smile. "No one else can wield a word like that so uncomfortably. Fine. The problem is with your godchild."

"Ah."

"'Ah'? That's all I get? A syllable?"

"It's a syllable of understanding, Lucius. I assume the two of you have had another... authoritative... dispute."

Heaving a sigh, Lucius slunk down in his chair and still managed to look regal. "Not quite. At least, I don't believe so. It might have been."

Severus let out a snort of disbelief. "Is this what I think it is? Lucius Malfoy, confused? I don't believe it."

Lucius glared at him. "It's called parenthood." He snapped waspishly. "You have been fortunate enough to not be obliged to enjoy it."

A shadow crossed his face. "Fortunate." He repeated softly. Turning away, he clasped his hands behind his back and stared into the cheerful blaze contained to the hearth.

For a moment, both men were silent, each lost to their own thoughts.

"As to my visit, Lucius," Severus started abruptly, shattering the silence that had fallen, "Do you remember that girl from all those years back?"

He didn't bother to ask which girl he meant; he didn't have to. Letting out an uncharacteristic snort, he answered, "You mean the one I feared you had fallen in love with until you clarified it to be a child? The little American foundling you discovered during one of your more... dubious business transactions, whom you temporarily placed in my care and cursed me for years afterward when she disappeared and you then promptly lost track of?"

Severus winced slightly before nodding. "Yes. That one." He cleared his throat. "Do you remember her name?"

Lucius frowned. What was he getting at? "I believe it was Anna."

He shook his head, keeping his onyx gaze on the brooding patriarch. "No, Lucius. It was Kaira."

He watched as his words finally drew a reaction from his stony friend.

"Do you remember me telling you why it was so important to watch over her?" He continued softly.

Lucius nodded slowly, eyes narrowing slightly. "But – surely – that condition must have dissolved. It was – temporary. Or it should have been, as it was hereditary –"

Severus cut off his friend with a sharp shake of his head. "No. Apparently, when inherited, the condition actually remains longer – and it's stronger." He sighed, kneading his eyes with his hands. "It's our own fault, I suppose, for not foreseeing the pregnancy. But now – this girl –"

Lucius was already shaking his head. "There's nothing I can do about it now, Severus, unless you want her dead. It's too late."

"The least you could do is keep her in your house." He persisted. "Watch over her until after break – Hogwarts will be a haven for her once more, and again I'll be able to monitor her."

Lucius studied his friend, thoughtful. This was Severus Snape, despised Potion's Master, expert in the Dark Arts, proud double agent – proud in general – nearly begging... in his own unique way, of course.

"What is this girl to you?" He found himself asking, not for the last time this week. "She must be more than a mere tool to you. Otherwise you wouldn't fret so much; in fact, you'd probably just kill her."

He watched Severus stiffen. "You're correct, Lucius. Call her – a memory. I didn't want to lose her that first time, as you recall."

Lucius ignored the needle.

"I – neither of us – wanted to lose her mother beforehand," he continued, "And, to quote a quaint muggle expression, 'Three's a charm'. Perhaps – perhaps things will work out to the best, for once. And as to your unspoken question, I do know it's her. She has gained some control over the years – but not complete control. Even less when she's... passionate, about something."

Lucius inhaled slowly. What could he say? All this explained his odd feelings of déjà vu, and perhaps as to why his son was so taken with the girl... though nothing was sure. What was there to say?

He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Very well."

Not much else could be done in the meantime. Besides, what could possibly happen in the space of a couple weeks?

Just as the Potion's Master was about to leave, he stopped and turned back. "One last thing," He said, clearing his throat. "Try to keep Draco from becoming too... ah... attached, to the girl. We don't want any other unforeseen mishaps to occur."

With that, the emerald flames enveloped the Potion's Master and Lucius Malfoy, Patriarch of the Malfoy family, was faced with something of a dilemma.

He wasn't required, directly, to report to his master. The orders had been to keep an eye on the mother. But, his position with his master was not doing all too well; while he couldn't enter Lucius' mind without killing him – he was too valuable at the moment to destroy – the dark lord knew that he had secrets. Adding one more... or subtracting one more... being recognized fully by the most powerful being in all of creation – or letting the girl enjoy her life and keeping a sworn secret that his oldest, only friend had made him keep.

Severus trusted him.

Lucius hated trust, and had told him this before. It made him feel almost vulnerable, being... responsible, for not only your own life and well being, which was hard enough to keep, but also that of another. Didn't he have enough responsibility?

But Severus trusted him.

That was rare – he was probably the most suspicious man he had ever had the misfortune to meet. Severus would never trust him fully, he knew; if he said one thing, he would always be prepared to turn around and baldly deny it, replacing that fact with something much more believable – however false.

He never trusted completely.

But he was trusting him with this.

Was it a test? If so – if so, he planned on passing it with flying colors. Through skill. Name, fear, money – all were worthless (well, nearly) in this game.

His lips turned up into a smirk, his first of the evening. He always loved a challenge.

That was last night. Today, he had a run-in with the subject and his son and wondered if he could take parenting two adolescents instead of one.

"What is this girl to you?" Lucius found himself asking once again, eyes on the subject's retreating back.

Draco knew better that to ask why this question was brought up. So he took a moment with his answer; he was the only one Lucius would ever have patience for.

"She's a –" – a what? An acquaintance? Someone close to him? Near and dear? A lover? "– friend."

Lucius sighed, long white fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

Draco knew something wasn't right. That action was his father's only nervous habit, and it only surfaced when something foreboding was to happen in the near future.

He waited, semi-anxious for his father's next words.

"Try to make sure the two of you stay that way. Don't... advance, too much."

What the - ?!

Before Draco's lips could blurt his demand for a direct answer, he was gone.

Heaving a sigh, he unwittingly copied his father's habit.

Ladies and Gentlemen: Lucius Malfoy has left the building.

Hello again!

My gosh, I've been gone for forever, I know, and I give you all my most sincere and humble apologies.

I beg, all my readers, for your forgiveness.

I hope you don't mind this chapter, and I know it's kinda frustrating, seeing as I'm the only one who knows anything about what's going on... but, keep reading and you'll find out – relatively – soon enough.