Chapter Six
Lucius had to admit this was one of the more peculiar situations he had found himself it. Well, it seemed peculiar to him at the moment. Severus sat opposite him in a rather small booth for two in a corner with a rather uncertain expression on his face as he scrawled on a piece of parchment. This situation may have looked odd had they not been in the Three Broomsticks where this sort of sight was not uncommon.
"What are you doing?" Lucius finally asked.
"What does it look like?" Severus snapped, still scowling at the parchment.
"Talking to yourself and writing gibberish." Lucius replied coolly before taking a sip of his Firewhiskey.
Severus glared at him. "Far from it; you're the one who said this is how we should communicate about this. Now shut the hell up, you insipid fool, and let me think."
Lucius simply arched an eyebrow in question but he simply sank back into his seat with ease and not uttering a word as he sipped his Firewhiskey once again. Severus had written him a few days ago after that dinner, saying to meet him here around seven. Lucius had gotten here a good deal earlier. And the more he thought about the school, the more he realized Harry was quite literally down the road from him and far beyond his touch. It wasn't a pleasant thought in the slightest. And so Lucius had bought himself a few drinks to tide himself over before Severus came swooping into the establishment, much like a bat or oversized bird of prey. Not that Lucius said that out loud.
Of course what Lucius wasn't expecting was for Severus to show up in the blackest of mood, and snarling a bit at Lucius' soft snicker. Severus had barely said a word as he sat down, ordered his drink, and started to talk. But Lucius had quieted him, saying they couldn't be too careful. And Snape, who looked mightily vexed, took out a quill and parchment and started to write frantically. That had all happened about 45 minutes ago, so Lucius was finding himself to be a tad curious as to what could be taking Severus so long to write. Maybe he'd try broaching another subject at hand first.
"If I may ask," Lucius began. "What has you in a foul mood?"
"Potter." Snape spat out, not looking up from the parchment.
Lucius had to pause for a moment; now, it was important to say Potter and not Harry; very important; crucial even. He couldn't muck this up at all. "And why does Potter have you in a foul mood?"
"Keeps inviting me for tea," Snape snarled. "Of which is entirely pointless since I have to leave after five minutes of arguing. That boy is completely in sufferable."
Lucius' lips thinned. Harry was far from insufferable. Harry was wonderful! How dare Severus slight Harry in such a manner? "You may want to attempt to get along with him."
Severus looked up from the parchment long enough to stare at Lucius. "Are you daft?" he demanded.
Lucius shook his head slowly; any faster and the room might start to move. And he was far from daft. "No; I'm wondering if you're the daft one. In case you've forgotten, you and I are unable to see this through completely. Potter, in all of his glorified goodness, is the only one who can do that."
Severus scowled. "When that insufferable boy learns to use his intelligence and not waste my time, I'll consider attempting to get along with him."
Lucius was hard pressed to not laugh out loud. The dark haired man would probably blow up like an Erumpent if he truly knew who's plan he was setting about seeing through. The thought of seeing Severus blow up was appealing in and of itself, but Lucius was more than content to settle for his chuckle that earned a puzzled look from Severus.
With a roll of his eyes, Lucius swirled the Firewhiskey around in the tumbler. "Salazar help us then; we may as well abandon this plan now then." He muttered before finishing his drink and signaling for another one.
"Drama queen," Severus snorted as he looked back at the parchment for a moment and then slid it over to Lucius. "Here."
Lucius gave Severus a slightly curious look as he started looking over it. Why, in the name of Salazar Slytherin himself, did Severus have something that looked long and complicated written down? This entire plan didn't' need to be long and complicated. He sipped at his drink and ordered another one for Severus before looking over the parchment carefully. In essence the plan was simple: poison and weaken the Dark Lord, lure him to Hogwarts under some false pretence, allow Harry to kill him and then Lucius and Harry could get back together. Barring Severus knowing about the last part, it was a brilliant plan.
"Quill." Lucius demanded imperiously, holding his hand out.
With a sour look, Severus handed it over. Lucius lips thinned grimly; Severus wasn't going to like this in the slightest. The quill moved across the parchment rapidly, scrawling widely over large sections until a few short sentences remained. Lucius handed it back to Severus without so much as a second look; as he was currently taking another sip of his drink, he felt it far more prudent to pay attention to the spirit in his tumbler.
"You complicate things far too much." Lucius pronounced as he rested his glass on the table.
Severus frowned. "You should keep unexpected occurrences in mind. If something happened an-"
Lucius waved a hand dismissively as he drained his tumbler. "Look, we're aiming for rapidity, correct?"
"To a certain degree, yes." Severus admitted in a thoroughly unhappy tone.
Lucius gave a rather smug nod of his head. "And who's the only other person working with me on this?" he waved for another drink.
"Me," Severus said in a tight tone. "You don't live long by taking stupid risks. Honestly Lucius, you should know that-" He stopped, watching as the drink was brought over and Lucius downed half the contents easily. "How many of those did you have before I arrived?"
Lucius gave a rather nonchalant shrug. "Five."
"Then that's your eighth one." Severus said sliding the glass away.
Lucius scowled and slid the glass back. "A plan with all that extra substance is bound to fail. We're supposed to come up with fiendishly complicated plans that involve backstabbing, power plays and the like. Who'd suspect something so simple? That's the last thing that would pop into their mind. And even if it did, they'd think it so ludicrous that they'd disbelieve it anyhow. Besides what you had, that's far too much to accomplish in so short a space of time."
"In how short a space of time were you thinking of accomplishing this?" Severus asked in a guarded voice.
"Three weeks." Lucius stated simply.
"Three weeks?" Severus hissed. "It can't be accomplished in three weeks. Circe, just how pissed are you?"
"Oh yes it can," Lucius smirked as he tilted his tumbler slightly in Severus' direction. "He's very eager for information. I've been holding it back a bit to make him more…hasty. He's almost ripe for the picking." He drank down the rest of the contents of the glass.
Severus picked it up and sniffed it delicately, withdrawing almost immediately. "No wonder you're so pissed."
"I'm having a bad week." Lucius said with a scowl of his own.
"Trouble in paradise?" Severus asked dryly.
"Piss off." Lucius said, giving him a nasty look.
Severus simply gave a peculiar little sound before looking over the parchment. "What kind of information did you need?"
"What you and your little friends are up to in that impregnable castle of yours," Lucius commented. "A way to sneak him in so he has no clue and when it's too late he can't flee anywhere."
"Anything else?"
Lucius paused for a moment. "If there're guards, where the students' quarters are-"
"Why?" Severus immediately interrupted.
"To keep him away, you dolt!" Lucius snapped. "Honestly…"
Severus held his hands up in pacifying manner. "And that's it?"
"I believe so," Lucius said before he paused for a moment. "I could use another drink."
"I think we're done here." Severus said as he folded up the parchment and handed it to Lucius as he rose.
Lucius rose as well, albeit a bit unsteadily, and slipped it into his pocket. He was pretty much ready to go home, and sleep this off. Tomorrow morning's hangover be damned; if he dreamed of Harry he wouldn't be complaining much. He blinked a bit when Severus dragged him towards the Floo fireplace. "What is it now?" Lucius asked in a testy voice.
"Friends don't let friends Apparate drunk1." Severus quipped with a sanctimonious smirk on his face.
"I am not drunk." Lucius said.
"Of course you're not." Severus said with a wry tone.
"Fine; semi-drunk." Lucius conceded.
"You imbibed more alcohol than you could handle. Ergo, despite your protestations that you are not drunk and or only semi-drunk, you cannot safely Apparate."
"Really, this is quite-"
"One drink is all it takes to lead to a nasty splinch 2." Severus quipped with that blasted sanctimonious expression.
"Fine, fine." Lucius grumbled, taking a handful of the Floor powder; since when had Severus turned into a public service announcement? He supposed the man had to get his kicks somehow, but ribbing Lucius was not a means of getting said kicks. He just might kick back…when things didn't tilt at ludicrous angles, of course.
"I suppose you'll have the sleep of Satan himself tonight," Severus said. "I hope you have some hangover cure for in the morning."
"Sadistic bastard," Lucius muttered as he stepped into the fireplace. "Malfoy Manor." he called out as he flung the Floo powder down.
The house was dark as he arrived in foyer fireplace. He paused for a moment, squinting slightly before he started walking, swaying from side to side slightly, but making his way up the stairs slowly. When he made it to his bedroom he had to pause again for another moment; why was his bed rocking as if it were on a boat?
"Salazar, I am pissed." he mumbled to himself as he closed the door.
He walked towards the bed, dumping his cane on the floor and stripping his clothes as he went. By the time he approached the cool silk covered surface and slid underneath the blankets. Was life rotten? It certainly seemed that way. Why did pissy Severus get to go back to the castle? Life was obviously deciding to mock him in a rather cruel manner. Lucius sighed; he would give himself a headache if he lingered on this any longer than he really should in his present state. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the grateful oblivion of sleep.
A few things made themselves painfully obvious to Lucius as he opened his eyes blearily. One was that a dull throbbing ache had firmly settled itself between his temples and was currently making light and sound painful to bear. The second was the insistent knocking on this bedroom door that seemed to reverberate crazily in his skull. The third was the burning sensation coming from his forearm from his Mark.
That was three things to deal with immediately, and he was barely functioning at the moment; wonderful.
With a low groan, he rolled out of bed and shuffled to bathroom, seeking out the vial of hangover cure. Once he found it, he swallowed the vial contents in one gulp, feeling the ache start to disappear immediately. He walked back out into the bedroom and shrugged into a robe before answering the door to find Narcissa standing there with a rather livid expression. Lucius gave a sigh and started to close the door. Narcissa wedged her foot inside to stop him.
"There's something we need to discuss." Narcissa said tersely.
"I'm sure there is," Lucius sneered as he pushed her foot aside. "And I'm sure it's some trivial concern of yours that will only bore me more." He started to close the door.
Narcissa interposed her shoulder, her expression darkening. "My lawyer just Owled me; he found out something rather interesting."
Lucius frowned as he looked at her impatiently; it had to be the same lawyer she was sleeping with. Quite frankly Lucius didn't have the time for this. His mark was starting to hurt far more now. "And that would be what?"
"It concerns your will."
Lucius simply looked at her, waiting to hear the rest.
"Well?" she demanded. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Nothing, you ingratiating harpy," Lucius said curtly. "My will is none of your business and its not going to be changed any time soon. Now, get the hell out."
And with that Lucius pushed Narcissa from the doorway before he shut the door and locked it. He rubbed at his forearm absently as he hurriedly dressed and left the house to Apparate to the Dark Lord's presence. He'd wasted precious time getting rid of Narcissa, and keeping the Dark Lord waiting was akin to severely risking your health and quite possibly your life. The room was dark and Lucius was painfully aware that aside from Severus, this gathering was painfully small - a grand total of only 7 Death Eaters.
"You're late." Voldemort didn't sound very pleased at the moment.
"Forgive me, my Lord." Lucius said, making the bow of obeisance to kiss the hem of Voldemort's robe.
Voldemort anything for a moment as Lucius straightened back up and slunk back into the small crowd. "You are going to retrieve something for me," he finally said. "Something very specific."
"What do you want us to get for my Lord?" Avery asked in a quiet voice.
"Do you want it…alive, my Lord?" MacNair asked, the edge of his axe glinting ominously in the light.
"I want them both alive," Voldemort said. "I think Dumbledore has had his fun with Mr. Potter's generous providers of three months; it's time we had ours."
"My Lord," Severus' voice was hesitant. "I must state again that Dumbledore had them Oblivated; I believe he performed it himself."
Nothing was said for a moment as Voldemort regarded Severus for a long moment, index finger absently stroking his wand.
"I'll deal with your…impertinence afterwards," He said. "I will easily be able to undo Dumbledore's handiwork."
Lucius glanced at Severus; if the Dark Lord got his hands on Ernesto and Valencia, his cover would be blown away like a pixie caught in a hurricane.
"My Lord, if I may beg something of you..." Avery spoke up once more.
Lucius absently paid attention as Avery asked the Dark Lord for the honour of seeing the mission through. Of course, poor Avery was going to regret asking for it when it was botched and he had to answer to Voldemort. If they could get Ernesto and Valencia up to the attic then there was a chance that they could escape whatever fate Voldemort had in store for them. When they got their Portkey - a battered and worn old bowl - the familiar tug beneath his navel came and everything became a whirlish blur. He had a faint idea of how he was going to manage this new development; he had a feeling it wouldn't come to that, but he'd drag Severus along with him kicking and screaming if need be.
1 - I know this isn't my creation. I remember reading it in a fic somewhere, and it just fit too damned well to think up of something else patronizing for Snape to say. So…um, again, not mine. If you came up with this, e-mail and let me know so I can give you credit.
2 - this one is mine!