an Many thanks to my beta Eris on this one! And as always love to Hakkai's Lady for all her help.

Chapter 2: Hazy Shade of Winter

I hadn't thought it was possible for Tahiti to look as cold and bland as it did to me on my last day there. My optimism had faded away. Of course, there had always been a part of me that knew he wouldn't call, but I had done my best to deny it. It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that he had been like all the rest. All of his spirit and conviction had melted away to the same uncertainty and fear that everyone else had. The realization hit hard, and took away what scant enjoyment I took from the place. When I left, I knew that I would never come back.

Moscow was just another city to me. I had not come there with high hopes, and so I was not let down. An entire week went by with me cloistered in my room ordering room service. Unlike the time I spent alone at Harry's, I did not write a single word. My notebook never made it out of my bag. Writing didn't appeal to me at the moment, even though I knew my fans were clamoring for a sequel to my latest novel. They all wanted to see "Steven" happy with "Henry." Despite the money that I would make, I couldn't bring myself to write it.

It didn't take more than a week for my publisher to start hounding me. Paul Addler had given me my start as a published author. Over the years, I've come to regard him as a friend even. Normally, he trusts me enough to do whatever I please with very little interference, but I suppose he had reached a limit. My respect for him demanded that I go to London as he asked.

Paul was a wiry, little man with an eye for real talent, even though he didn't have it himself. He peered at me quizzically over his desk. "Severus, it worries me that you're going to let this press get cold. Now, I know this isn't your first bestseller, but it is by far your most lucrative. Do I have to remind you how many copies we've sold?"

I sighed. "Do you want me to put out more worthless, shit writing just to make more money? I thought that vampire woman proved what happens when something's over and you force it."

"Damn it, Severus, it isn't over. Everyone says the same thing—the book seems unfinished."

"Well, everyone but me."

"How long have I known you?" he asked rubbing his wrinkled hands over his eyes.

"Twenty years."

"In twenty years, I have never read anything of yours like this. It is your absolute best, and your absolute worst. Do what you have to do, and then finish it." Knowing Paul, that was all he would say on the matter. Popping a few pills in his mouth, he looked at his watch. "That moron, Lockhart is supposed to be here at noon. I expect him at two."

I grimaced. My hatred of Gildroy Lockhart was well known. The man was a hack, and everyone knew it. The only reason he continued to get his work in print was because he had managed to play the female readers for all they were worth. Years ago, I had gotten very drunk at a diner party and made the mistake of sleeping with him. It was something that I had regretted deeply ever since, and his appearance was enough to send me on my way.

That evening, I took out my computer and began to type the longest strand of complete crap I had ever written. I promptly deleted it and pretended that it had never happened—not that anyone would have known. My house in London has always reminded me of a dungeon. It is an odd sort of stone home with very few windows, and at the moment it suited my mood.

In between my brooding, I did take time out to visit Lucius Malfoy. Draco's estranged father and I have always had a bizarre friendship. I found him and his wife at their home one afternoon. Lucius didn't seem surprised to see me. "I had heard that you had come crawling back," he sneered.

I narrowed my eyes. "And how like you to follow my social calendar."

He motioned to a seat across from him. "Narcissa tells me that you introduced Draco to his current fuck."

"I think you'll find Remus to be more than that."

The blond man smiled at me. "Oh, my son is smart enough to come back and marry a woman in time to cash in on his inheritance."

I snorted. "You don't seem in danger of dying anytime soon."

For a moment, I thought I saw a sheen of tears in Narcissa's pale eyes. She quickly excused herself. Her exit didn't seem to affect Lucius in the least. "I've had the misfortune of being diagnosed with lung cancer. The doctors tell me it's quite advanced."

I was taken aback for a second. "When did this come up?"

"A week ago. I haven't yet told my darling boy." His lips curled with distaste. "And I am very angry with you, Severus, for teaching my son such sick habits."

"Sick habits indeed," I mocked. "I think it's a little late in the game for you to become the puritan. The boy was born a fag, just as I was."

He looked at his drink bitterly. "You think we didn't know that. I am more disgusted by the fact that he can't keep his sex life quietly under wraps and keep up the Malfoy name."

"We all know how loved the Malfoys are," I said with a laugh. "I think Draco is better off where he is."

I left him there without looking back. It was the true nature of our relationship. I honestly don't think either of us ever gave more than a passing care to the other. Lucius was never a man to make friends. Even with Narcissa, I think he was unable to attach himself to anything but his own desires. We used each other because we both knew neither of us could give a fuck about anyone. The problem was that I wasn't truly like that—maybe not anymore. His coldness was no longer the asset I used to see it as. In a way, I pitied him, but not because he was dying.

At home, I poured myself a glass of wine and put in my favorite CD. I wondered how Draco would take the news of his father's cancer, but he had Remus to comfort him. He was a strong willed boy, and I imagined that he'd manage just fine. There had never been much love between them. The Malfoys were a fucked up family.

Most of my bags were still packed on the floor of my bedroom. I had decided that I wanted a certain shirt, and began rifling through. On top of the first suitcase was a picture that had been taken at Harry's banquet. We were sitting side by side and I had put my arm around him. There was a brilliant glow in his green eyes and I had a genuine smile on my face. It was by far the best picture I had ever taken. In one of my more sentimental moments in Tahiti, I had put it in an ornately carved wooden frame. Now, I regretted that I had ever done that. Part of me regretted that I had ever met Harry. He had shown me that no matter how badly I wanted to be loved and love someone in return, it wasn't worth the pain. We folded like a house of cards, and there was no going back. I didn't even think that he wanted me back.

I think some of you know who the "vampire woman" is.