The Snapefic, CH 11/12 "Time" (PG)

Summary: In this chapter, Severus and Malachai have a discussion, Severus and Lucius have a fight, and Saturday night finally comes. Severus sneaks down to Hogsmeade to keep an eye on the proceedings, only to discover that he obviously isn't as in control of things as he'd thought.

A/N: Yes, I will actually finish this story. Chapter 12 should be the last, and is currently half written. Thanks goes to everyone who begged me not to abandon this fic, because that made me actually log in to and upload the darn chapter. My livejournal (thesnapelyone) is a better place to look for updates - I'm not too active at this archive any longer.

They met again after classes ended that day in the Defense classroom.

Severus hadn't told Malachai he'd be coming, but that seemed an unimportant detail. And in fact, when he'd arrived, Malachai had been sitting at his desk, looking expectant and completely unsurprised to see him. Severus came on the pretense of desiring the other man's presence, though truly it was Friday evening, and he couldn't put off finding out Malachai's weekend 'plans' any longer before leaving the castle grounds for home.

"Are you going hunting tonight?" Severus asked, lowering his eyelids and lightening the question with the hint of a smile. It wouldn't do to sound too interested, of course. He could only hope that he wasn't being too obvious – Severus had needed to deceive a lot of people in his lifetime, but he had never enjoyed being in this kind of situation. 'This kind' he supposed referring to their 'bond', or whatever it was he shared with Malachai.

Right now, Malachai was smiling at him. They were both standing by his desk, which was piled in a disorganized mess of parchment, quills, and textbooks. He had brutally stabbed Severus' personal space to death, and their arms were touching in a cool line down the potions master's side. Soon though, in the little matter of a day, that face – those cerulean eyes – would be contorted in a mixture of pain and rage, no doubt, as the Death Eaters attacked, should Malachai resist them. Yes, Severus Snape knew he was an utter bastard.

"I prefer to call it a 'nomadic gathering of nectar', but whatever," Malachai grinned cheekily, to which Severus rolled his eyes. Something about Malachai's grin said he knew that would happen, and he chuckled as he shook his head. "I'm going out tomorrow. Once today is over, I am going to sleep, and I am not getting up until that damn sun is satisfactorily down Saturday night. I'm tired of being up during the day; it's very draining."

Severus tried not to look like a ravenous wolf as he grabbed onto that tidbit of information. "Are you saying you're weaker during the day?"

Malachai gave him a questioning look, and Severus spread his hands defensively. "I'm just curious. We wizards are sadly lacking in any real knowledge about Vampires." He gave Malachai his best professor imitation, hoping he sounded like a drab intellectual hungry for knowledge. That was probably how many people already saw him anyway.

"Yes, I'd noticed that when reading through the defense text books," Malachai said with a smirk, "Much to my delight."

Severus gazed sharply at him. "What do you mean, 'delight'? If anything, a defense professor in your position should be eager to impart any knowledge you can to these children. Then at least I can sleep at night knowing they're actually learning something from you."

Malachai took a step back from Severus, bumping the desk with a thigh, staring at him with half-amusement, half- horror. "Are you kidding? Why would I do that? Do you think I should be handing each of them a stake and drawing diagrams of the human chest cavity so they can practice aiming for the heart!"

Severus chuckled. He couldn't help it; Malachai's disgust coupled with the subject was quite amusing. "Actually, that's a good idea," he remarked wryly, enjoying watching Malachai's distress increase. "And mention that garlic will, if not kill them, certainly make them bolt out of the room in a mad panic."

Malachai glared at Severus, his lips twisting in anger, and folded his arms across his chest. This was clearly his 'not amused' pose. "I am not letting any of those spoiled little brats anywhere near that information. I expect you'll want to let them practice on me, too."

Severus paused a moment to get control of his chuckling, then sobered his features and drew his hawk-like brows down in a chastising expression. "This is serious, Malachai. You're their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. It's your duty to give them as much tactical knowledge as you can," he said sternly.

"Oh yes, because Vampires are so common in England!" Malachai replied hotly, though his coloring only grew paler. "We're not as stupid as that. You know, if I could've helped it, I wouldn't have come within ten leagues of this continent. Vampires stay the hell away from wizards and all their complicated lives as a general rule – I still don't understand why we are so hated and feared by you when there aren't any around. We're all holed up in old castles and decrepit fortresses in eastern Europe – either that or hiding amongst the vast numbers of muggles in the New World-"

"They call it America now, just in case no one had informed you yet," Severus muttered dryly, unimpressed with Malachai's little rant.

Malachai was forced to pause with this interruption, and looked all the more irritated for it. His eyes had stormed over prettily, and his jaw was clenched with impotent fury, however, after the display Severus had witnessed Thursday night, he couldn't be impressed. Stormy eyes could not compete with men melting from shadow. He was pleased to note that his posture or expression hadn't been impacted by Malachai's tirade, and that he could stand impassively as the Vampire grew increasingly incensed.

"That's not – you're – I mean – " Malachai verbally stumbled, then gave up with a loud irritated noise. "You don't care, in other words."

"Have you met Hagrid?" Severus asked suddenly, derailing the subject entirely. He arched a brow in question, waiting while Malachai's face sought to pick an expression it liked.

The Vampire settled with irritated. "No. I know who he is; you're talking about the Care of Magical Creatures professor, that half-giant guy."

Smirking, Severus nodded. "Yes, 'that half-giant guy'," he repeated, tasting the American slang as if it were poison. "He's had a few particularly vicious encounters with Vampires in his life, you should try your little speech on him. I'd be interested to know how he reacted."

"Alright," Malachai sighed, "So I'm going to insist that prejudice against my kind is wrong, and you're going to insist that it's self-preservation, not prejudice, and really there's no point in arguing about it."

"A very sensible observation," Severus replied, folding his arms as he glanced to the desk full of papers. An odd little symbol in red ink caught his eye, and he reached out a long arm to pluck the parchment from its resting place amongst the others, holding it up to his eyes. In the top right hand corner, Malachai had scrawled an angry red, 'T' and beneath it, 'I can see you put no effort into this travesty. More sources needed,' and below that, there was a little smiley face.

"What is…?" No, actually, the smile was off; the mouth was just a straight line. It was a ... "Disapproving face?" Severus looked up to Malachai, trying not to smile.

Malachai cleared his throat. "I had the advanced students do a paper on a "Dark" being or creature, and how best to combat that creature, using the techniques we'd covered in class. And some little cretins actually picked Vampires, even though I haven't covered them at all," Malachai groused unhappily.

"I cannot believe your attitude towards this. It is important – "

"Yeah, yeah. Important and imperative, blah blah. Thanks to my actions, they didn't have enough information to write a thorough or intelligent report," Malachai commented offhand, grabbing up another unfurled parchment to look over. "Also, I didn't want anyone to be reading things like 'How to Determine if That Guy Over There is a Vampire' and then looking at me funny. Though I think Hermione Granger was trying to tell me something."

Severus glanced over at the parchment Malachai was holding, noting Granger's name at the top, and passing on to the grade. He smirked. "First 'T' she's ever gotten, I'd wager. …Outside my own classroom, of course." Malachai chuckled, and for a moment they were grandly united in a common dislike. Severus read Malachai's red comment aloud. "'I don't believe Vampires have ever held down day jobs, especially not in teaching positions, though I understand your concern. Your theories about magical sunlight are all unsound, and you obviously need more research into the topic.' Oh dear Merlin."

"I thought about adding 'see me after class' so I could club her with a blunt object, but I've already gotten in trouble once regarding a student, and I think Dumbledore's beginning to reach the end of his leash with me."

"So how right was she?" Severus asked, looking up again wryly. He didn't want to disturb any more sore subjects, and Draco definitely was one.

"Spot on, as you Brits say," Malachai grumbled, tossing the paper down. "I don't know where she managed to get her information! I thought for sure I'd gotten rid of all the relevant books from the library, I even got rid of 'Voyages with Vampires', which was the stupidest thing I'd ever read."

Severus' face lit up triumphantly, "I knew that was why you had all those Vampire books. Did you purge the restricted section as well?"

Frowning, Malachai shook his head. "No. I figured the best place for those books would be right where they were, and anyway, students can't get in there without a signed slip from a teacher. So, if they did come to me with the request, I simply refused to grant it."

"…Even on the grounds of research for your own assignment." Severus couldn't hide his smirk then. He couldn't help the thought that if he and Malachai had met as wizards, they might've got on together.

"Yep." Malachai leaned against the desk, eyes drifting absently.

On the other hand, as things stood, "You should be ashamed," Severus admonished, "You're supposed to be preparing these children for the real world when they are thrust into it after graduation. In a world like ours, they're going to need all the defense knowledge they can get, and you're deliberately keeping them ignorant-"

"And what would you do in my place, Severus? Should I teach them all the efficient ways to kill my family, or should I just stake myself and save everyone the trouble?" Unable to contain himself, Malachai began pacing around his desk, though he stopped on the other side when he reached Severus again and ran his fingers through his hair with jerky movements. "Don't tell me you'd go around teaching muggles how to effectively kill wizards."

"Of course not, that'd be ridiculous. But there are Vampires in the world who aren't just silly little strumpets looking for a tumble-"

"What did you just call me!" Malachai demanded in surprise, "I don't know what a 'strumpet' is, but I'm assuming it was meant to insult me, as the adjectives 'silly' and 'little' were used in conjunction with it."

Severus arched a brow, noticing that the angrier Malachai got, the bigger his words got also. Not that 'in conjunction' was the phrase of philosophers, but it was better than 'that guy'. "The point is that while you may be a friend of Dumbledore's who just seduces his prey, there are other Vampires who hurt, maim and kill their victims. Those are the types of Vampires I'm suggesting the children learn to defend themselves against."

"I still don't agree that I should teach anyone how to destroy one. I'm sorry, I just can't help it."

Severus surprised himself by not caring. He didn't want to have a long, drawn out argument. Not with Malachai, anyway. He nodded somberly and reached out to draw Malachai against him. "Of course you can't," he replied, almost fondly.

Battering sense into the Vampire's thick skull would be wasted, Severus suddenly realized, because he'd most likely be gone Monday. Oh, the argument would fit the purpose of Severus appearing innocent to malicious intent, should Malachai be wondering how the Death Eaters found him Saturday night, but it would be pointless to try and draw it out.

A weight of finality settled in Severus' chest as he looked down at the boyish creature staring back at him. So trustful were those bright eyes. Malachai had spent so much time trying to earn Severus' trust that he probably hadn't had the smallest thought that perhaps the Potions Master could not be trusted. How ironic that having his office broken into should work in Severus' favor.

Severus had, of course, been letting the issue of their 'bond' slide with hardly any protest from himself, because there was no future in it. Come Monday, Malachai would either be an enemy of the Light or an experiment of the Dark, and who knew what that would mean for them?

Perhaps, one day, Severus would be at an Order meeting and hear the Vampire spoken of. Perhaps there would be a report that Voldemort had gathered a few Vampires to his cause, and here were there names, and didn't a Malachai teach at the school once? Maybe some day he'd even hear the story of how Shaklebolt and Lupin had been on a raid, and they'd come across the little Vampire. Lupin would watch Severus in his curious way as Shaklebolt recounted how they'd taken the Vampire down. Then Lupin would quietly wonder, hadn't Malachai been a Defense teacher for the school once, while Shaklebolt would show Severus a particularly nasty looking bite wound.

"…Severus? Hey, Sunshine?"

Severus jolted out of his thoughts and glared down at the present-tense Malachai. It felt like looking at an old photograph, as if Malachai were already gone. One could think of it like that, Severus reasoned. He was gone, he just didn't know it yet.

"Don't call me sunshine," Severus muttered half-heartedly.

"You don't sound happy. What's wrong?"

"I never sound happy," Severus reminded him sharply, all the while mapping the smooth, boyish planes of Malachai's face into his memory, tracing the rounded pillows of the creature's lips so that he would always remember. Then he would place the memories in his pensieve, and after Malachai was gone, Severus would allow himself to feel bad. That would be the only time it would be safe to do so.

"True, but you're suddenly not smirking condescendingly at me, and your voice is usually full of disdain." Malachai tilted his head, staring up at Severus with concern. Severus caught the hand that was raising towards his face, and held it just a moment too long before pushing it away.

'Time to get yourself under control, Severus.' "Well, if you must know, I'm not happy. I've got to go home tonight, and explain you to Lucius. He's already angry at me, and he's had an entire day to fester."

For a moment, Malachai pouted. He looked ridiculous. "You could have told me you had a lover, you know."

"Perhaps I would have, had I known your plans for molesting me ahead of time. I don't care to have another argument today."

"Alright; neither do I," Malachai admitted, and then he did a strange thing. He turned to face Severus, slipped his arms beneath the Potions Master's arms, and hugged him.

Severus stared down at Malachai for a few moments, wondering what he ought to do about that. The seconds were drawing out awkwardly, so he finally settled for placing a hand to the back of Malachai's head. The hair was as soft as he remembered.

More seconds passed. Severus wondered if he ought to speak. But what would he say? 'I'll probably never see him again,' he realized, but 'let's shag' seemed a little insensitive.

He was saved by Malachai's soft voice. "I'll miss you."

For a moment, Severus panicked. He almost insisted out loud that Malachai wasn't supposed to know he'd be gone, but managed to calm himself enough to think. Heartbeat drumming in his ears, he stroked the hair a little and tried to sound surprised, which wasn't actually difficult. "What do you mean?"

Malachai's head pulled back from his shoulder but didn't look up at him. "You read my letter; I'm heading back to America."

Severus' hairline lowered a few inches. "Oh yes, the letter from the Vampire in New York." He remembered finding it on his floor later and tucking it away in a drawer. "But when is that happening? Surely not until the school year is over…"

"No, it'll be in a month or so. At first I'd planned on staying here until things had calmed down and sneaking back to America, but what I learned about your office break in convinced me that things aren't safe here."

"You're really convinced that someone else knew you were a Vampire, got into the school somehow, and set the break in up to look as if you'd done it, and all for what? So that somehow I'd figure out you were a Vampire? Listen, I believe that you didn't break into my office, alright? But I do think your theory is full of holes." Severus watched Malachai dubiously.

Malachai shook his head firmly. "You haven't been with me up until Hogwarts. I swear I was being herded onto this continent… it's hard to explain, but from what was happening, the movements of the hunters became too patterned to be coincidence. But, I had no choice, I had to go this way. I was just lucky that I knew someone here who could help me out. If not… if they were herding me as I suspect, I would've undoubtedly hit their trap at the end." Malachai's hands slid upwards, his fingers twining with the ends of Severus' hair. "I couldn't find out much about them, or why in the world they had to drive me across the ocean to trap me, but… Well, like I said, I'm lucky this castle was here."

Frowning up at Severus, the little Vampire began fumbling with his pocket, and then pulled out something, holding his fist out. Confused, Severus held out is hand, and felt cool metal hit his palm.

"What's this?" he asked, even as he was looking down at the aged silver pocket watch.

"My broken watch."

It wasn't that Severus had never seen a timepiece before of course. He hadn't meant 'what's this' so much as 'Why are you handing it to me', but Malachai seemed to think that 'My broken watch' was all the explanation necessary.

Severus cupped the small pocket watch carefully for closer inspection, as if handling it wrong would somehow increase its brokenness. There was no chain left, but he noticed where it would've connected. He stared into the white clock face, tracing the lines of roman numerals and the curls of the watch's hands. They were tiny, elaborate little pieces of metal, shaped into vines of ivy. He turned the timepiece over. The back was bright silver, though little nicks, scratches and dents belied age. Embossed in flowery gothic script were the initials N. and B. "Not yours, then?"

"Hm? No, of course it's mine. Why would I give you someone else's watch?"

Severus paused in his inspection to glare at the Vampire. "Perhaps someone in your little leech family gave it to you?" He realized he was deliberately goading Malachai, which was probably not the best defensive course. Some part of him just felt that Malachai's current state of being was something he'd done deliberately to grate on Severus' nerves, even if it was a ludicrous thought.

From Malachai's expression, Severus' attempt to mock had succeeded. He folded his skinny arms across his boyish chest and flared his irritating little nostrils. "Actually, a mortal - err, muggle - gave it to me."

"And who did he get it from?" Severus tilted the watch back and forth, watching the dim lighting from the room glint across the engraved letters.

"I'm pretty sure he bought it. Why do you ask?"

"Well, these aren't your initials, that's all. It's an idle question, which required no extensive explanations or pouting expressions, I assure you."

"I'm not pouting. This is me being annoyed because you constantly insult me. But actually those are my initials, thank you so much, so you can take your big nose out of my business."

"Your initials are M. T., you stupid twat. If you could actually read you might know this, and don't you dare ever insult my nose again."

"I can read, obviously. Sunshine-"

Severus glared.

"-Has it ever occurred to you that you don't know me all that well?"

Severus blinked. Well, no, truth be told. "Oh." Now, he felt stupid. "You're using a false name."

"Bingo," Malachai confirmed.

"So why have you given me a broken watch? You could have just mentioned you weren't really called Malachai, I didn't need props."

Malachai let out an exasperated sigh. "I wanted you to have it, to remember me by, but really it doesn't matter. I don't care, throw it out if you want," he uttered sourly, and made his way dejectedly for the door.

Severus simply watched the Vampire leave, timepiece still resting in his palm. The door shut firmly before he'd thought of anything to say to that.

Really, though, he oughtn't throw it out, he decided after a few minutes. Soon this useless bit of metal would be all he had to remind him of Malachai; all his nauseating smiles, all the frustration he had caused Severus.

Upon returning home, Severus again found Lucius wearing his clothing and sitting impatiently in his kitchen. If they had been meeting on friendlier terms, Severus might've taken the time to point out to Lucius that he looked very odd in the simple, somber clothing. As it was, Lucius' entire posture shouted 'DISPLEASED' in big letters, and his lips were pressed together in a thin line. Severus determined that small talk would not be received well.

He stepped around the table, avoiding Lucius' chair, and parked himself in front of the drinks cabinet. Severus had thought about being the one to speak first, but he could feel Lucius' eyes boring holes into his back, and decided to just let the Death Eater stew for as long as possible.

He'd poured himself a snifter of brandy and settled himself across the table from the blonde, appearing unconcerned with the glare thrust his way. Severus refused to be pulled into a childish argument, so he stayed silent.

The silence didn't last much longer. "Do you have nothing to say at all?"

"What do you want me to say, Lucius?" Severus asked conversationally, sipping his drink as if he had no greater worry at the moment.

"I'd like an explanation," Lucius said slowly, simmering with anger. "First all I hear is you complaining about Tomaren, and the next thing I know you're ignoring an engagement with me to stay at that blasted school and shag him – and may I just point out that I am appalled to think that not only is a Vampire teaching my son, he's also buggering my lover."

"Yes, you've mentioned these concerns before," Severus murmured, eyes on his glass as the light from the kitchen refracted through the liquid. "Though if I were being picky, I would point out that no one's 'buggering' me, as you so charmingly put it."

"Oh no? I suppose he just came to you because he was suffering from nightmares, and needed someone to cuddle up with." Lucius uttered sarcastically.

Severus had to work to contain a smile. That reaction wouldn't do at all except to incense Lucius, but it was a rather amusing image. "Actually, he was just sleeping."

"Really. So, pray tell, what was wrong with his own chambers?"

"I'm not sure." Severus thought of Dusty then, and wondered if the Vampire's sudden animosity towards his friend had impacted his decision to stay with him. He suspected the more likely reason was that Malachai simply wished to annoy him as often as possible. "When I awoke, he was there, and I didn't think to ask him afterwards. I just told him to get out." After the hand job, of course.

Lucius leaned forward across the table, catching Severus' reluctant gaze with his own. "I don't believe a word of that."

"Alright," Severus said, punctuating his unconcern with a shrug of his shoulder, and took another drink. After swallowing, he added, "I'm not terribly concerned with what you choose not to believe, Lucius. You can disapprove of him all you want, but I'm not going to sit here and dignify it by giving some guilty confession. Yes, he's a Vampire, and I 'buggered' him anyway. It wasn't my original intent to acknowledge him any more than strictly necessary between colleagues, but circumstances changed unexpectedly, as they often can."

"So you did bugger him. I thought he was just sleeping."

"Not the same instance." Severus clarified with an arched brow, watching Lucius' frown deepen.

"I thought I'd made it perfectly clear exactly whom you belonged to," Lucius growled, narrowing his eyes and raising a hand to grip Severus' chin tightly.

Severus' eyes widened marginally in indignation. "Unhand me, Malfoy," he said in a low, calm voice.

"Oh, it's Malfoy again." Lucius smiled meanly, his clear gray eyes sparkling with malicious intent. "What happens if I don't? Is your little Vampire going to burst in here and teach me a lesson?"

"I do not understand why you insist on making a connection between us. It was sex; we're not running away together." Severus kept his voice steady and managed not to move, which he found difficult under the circumstances. What he really wanted to do was wrench his jaw free and hex Lucius blind, but it would be an understatement to think that a foolish action.

"That's good," Lucius growled, letting go of Severus' jaw finally. The skin ached where it had been pressed against bone. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you of what happens to those who get in the way of Voldemort's plans."

Frowning, Severus drank down the rest of his brandy. "Of course not." A hundred old memories related to that subject flashed before his eyes before he could push them away, none of them pleasant. "The thought had never entered my mind. I fully intend to continue with our plans… in fact, I wanted to tell you to alert the Death Eaters. He will be in Hogsmeade on Saturday night. I would have them ready to go by sundown, were I you."

"This is not my mission, as I am in hiding," Lucius reminded Severus, and sounded a bit bitter about it, "I am merely passing on information. But, I will make mention that they should be in position by sundown, of course. It seems a rather obvious time."

Frowning, Severus contemplated his empty glass. "Well yes, but Ma- Tomaren seemed most interested on getting to Hogsmeade as soon as he could. If they wait too long, they will miss him."

"Duly noted," Lucius replied. He stood up from the kitchen and disappeared from the room. Severus listened to his footfalls as he moved about the house, noticing with small amusement how Lucius acted as if he owned the place. True, Lucius always acted that way, no matter where he was, but it was different here. Or Severus would've liked to think so, once upon a time. Before he'd met Malachai, he would've been over-analyzing the way Lucius was acting, but now he couldn't be bothered to care. The only thing he wondered about now was how long Lucius would be staying here. This new wall between them wouldn't make living together easy, or, Severus mused, pleasant.

Rain pelted the cobblestones and rooftops of Hogsmeade all day Saturday and well into the night. As soon as he could after sunset, Severus took a carriage down to the village outskirts and entered Hogsmeade on foot, donning a large traveling cloak spelled to repel water. It was dangerous, he knew, because Malachai might see him, but all day the thought of just sitting in his quarters, reading, while Death Eaters cornered Malachai and brought him to Voldemort felt wrong. It felt anticlimactic.

It was very hard to see. Rain dimmed the streetlamps and caused buildings still lit up to look hazy and unfocused. Mud squelched under his boots until finally he put a silencing charm on them, and he kept near the lights, with his hood drawn down formidably. The last thing he needed was for Malachai to spot him and think 'easy target'. Getting dragged down some back alley for a meal wasn't a desirable thought to begin with, not to mention what Malachai would think when he found out Severus was here.

What exactly Severus was expecting him to discover wasn't certain, but at the very least Malachai might think he'd tried to get caught on purpose, or something ridiculous like that. Malachai might think he was interested in being a meal, which simply wasn't true. Severus was interested in certain parts of Malachai, but his Vampirism wasn't one of them. Whatever Malachai might think, questions would be unwelcome. And if the Death Eaters tried to approach Malachai while he was taking advantage of Severus in some back alley… well, he didn't want to think about that.

He wasn't sure how he was going to spot Malachai or any of the Death Eaters in this weather, but then again, Malachai seemed very adept at not being seen when he wanted to. Still, there weren't many people out in the streets. Once in a while someone arrived at or emerged from The Three Broomsticks, so he took to hovering near that building, and while doing so, began wondering just exactly how Malachai hunted. Did he just… leap out of the shadows at people and latch onto their throats? Severus assumed not.

If he hunted others the way he had Severus, perhaps it would be best to check inside the pub. He might flirt with his intended prey beforehand. Get a few drinks into them, lure them outside away from the streetlights on the pretense of going someplace quieter….

Merlin, he couldn't have that high of an opinion of the man if he was thinking of him as some sort of hustler. Still, a peek inside couldn't hurt, just so he could definitely rule it out.

Severus dismissed the Hog's Head entirely. He couldn't imagine Malachai interested in any of that sort. Looking around carefully, he wandered over to the door of The Three Broomsticks, and slipped inside.

It wasn't Malachai, however, who stopped him dead in his tracks just in the doorway, so that someone coming in behind him had to make a large fuss over going around him, shaking water off their cloak and harrumphing about muddy-footed rude people.

There, in a table near the bar, was the vivaciously blonde head of Narcissa Malfoy, laughing in apparent delight at something her companion had just said. Her robes were expensive, dry, and colorful. Her wrists, throat and ears sparkled with jewels. She stuck out like a sore thumb.

Across from her at the little table was none other than Malachai, dressed in much better clothes than Severus had thought he possessed – they appeared to fit him, for one thing - and looking as if he talked to rich forty-something women all the time.

Oh sweet Merlin, Narcissa was looking right at him.

TBC