The rest of the morning and afternoon passed relatively smoothly. Lucius had gone with Gilderoy to group therapy but sat in determined silence through the whole thing. Gilderoy wasn't sure exactly what he was determined to do, but it was determined silence nonetheless. He caught up with Lucius on the way back to their room.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked, smiling in what he thought was a concerned sort of way.

"Because you were doing enough talking for both of us," Lucius said.

Gilderoy's smile never flickered. "Well, someone had to get things going, didn't they?"

"And keep things going. And finish them off."

"They let you out faster if you talk to them. You have to keep that in mind, you know."

"How many times must I remind you that I've been here before?"

Gilderoy blinked.

"Don't you dare tell me you're that thick. I don't think I could handle that right now." Lucius turned and went into the room, shutting the door behind him.

Gilderoy stood there in the hall for a moment, then started down the hall and into the no-man's-land of the main hall. He sat there and chatted with a few of the other patients ("You really shouldn't bite yourself, Hilda, you'll bruise") until one of the nurses, a blonde witch that was extremely new and extremely nervous, came in to serve dinner.

Gilderoy had just seated himself at the long table set up in the middle of the room before he realized Lucius wasn't there. Marlene had apparently had the same thought, because she stood up and started for the hall. Gilderoy jumped up and volunteered to go get Lucius himself. Marlene gave him a doubtful look but let him go.

He made his way to his room – their room, now – and opened the door slowly. Lucius will probably be cross at being disturbed, he told himself, but he has to eat something or he'll make himself ill.

The room was silent as the door swung open on well-oiled hinges. It was dim, as the sun was sinking outside and the room faced east. Lucius was lying on his bed, making odd, slightly strangled-sounding noises in his sleep.

Gilderoy came closer and saw that he was curled up on his side. He made that odd moaning sound again and curled his fists into his long pale hair, tugging at it roughly. Gilderoy wrinkled his nose in distaste. It was sacrilege, really, to do that to such nice hair; Lucius looked about ready to pull it out. He decided he had to do something about it.

"Come on now, stop that," he said as he started to work Lucius' hands out of his hair. Lucius seemed to relax at the sound of his voice – maybe because it was familiar? – and his hands fell slack. Gilderoy moved Lucius' hands down to his side, then sat next to him and started to stroke his hair, smoothing it out. Lucius' breathing quickened for a moment before evening out again. Gilderoy didn't notice, but kept stroking his hair.

After a few minutes he remembered why he had come in here in the first place. He removed his hand from Lucius' hair and moved to shake his shoulder to wake him when one of Lucius' eyes slid open.

"You stopped," was all he said. Gilderoy smiled slightly.

"Dinner is out there, Lucius." Lucius made a small noise of protest and turned on his back, closing his eyes again, so Gilderoy continued, "You have to eat or you'll make yourself sick."

"I'll be fine, Gilderoy."

"Come on, you have to get up sooner or later," Gilderoy replied, reaching over and gripping Lucius' hands. He stood up, pulling Lucius into a sitting position. Lucius glared at him and pulled his hands away. Gilderoy stood there, smiling in a benign sort of way. Lucius just sat there glowering, apparently waiting for something. When it was obvious that Lockhart wasn't going to go away, Lucius stood up and went to the mirror, smoothing his hair with his hand, before walking out the door. Gilderoy followed him, talking animatedly.

"Oh, you'll get used to it here soon enough…again," he added as Lucius gave him a sharp look. "You just have to open up a bit more. You're not going to be let go if you don't say anything, and certainly not if you spend all your time sleeping."

"I'll be gone in a week. A fortnight at the most."

"Oh, you've been given your assignment already? Good!"

Lucius rolled his eyes, and Gilderoy wondered briefly if there was something he wasn't getting. They entered the main hall together and sat down; Lucius sat at the head of the table and no one argued with him. The fact was that he seemed like he belonged there. He sat there with his perfect posture, eating slowly, gracefully, the way they probably taught you in etiquette lessons. For a moment Gilderoy found himself wishing that he was the one with the looks of an exotic male model and excellent table manners on top of it.

Then he realized that Lucius was looking at him strangely.

"Are you having a problem, Lockhart?"

"No, why?" Gilderoy replied, trying to dismiss it with a laugh.

"Because you were staring at me." When Gilderoy said nothing, Lucius snapped "I don't want you staring at me again, do you at least understand that?"

"Keep it civil, Lucius. Boundaries," Marlene said quickly.

"Of my sanity. Certainly."

"Lucius…"

"Understood, Marlene." With that, Lucius pushed his chair back from the table. Distantly polite to the last (it was either that or distantly paranoid), he didn't give anyone his back. He stepped backwards towards the door, nodding slightly, before turning and leaving the room. Marlene hesitated, then jumped up and followed him, beckoning to the blonde nurse to follow her.

The moments that followed seemed to take forever. Since Marlene and the new girl were gone, Gilderoy and the other patients were left with Romàn and Geoffrey, two male attendants - they detested being called nurses - that Gilderoy had never liked much.

After a while, the new nurse came in and brought Gilderoy out into the hall.

"Er, well, Lucius is being a bit - tense - right now. He says he can control himself, but if you would like for him to have a separate room for the night, feel free to ask and we can put him into confinement."

Gilderoy frowned. He had seen the confinement rooms; dreadfully unpleasant places, those were. He didn't like the idea of Lucius in there. He shook his head and said that Lucius would be fine in their room, thank you very much. The nurse nodded and walked with him down the hall into his room. Marlene had already left, and there was only Lucius sitting at the desk that was against the window. A candle was flickering on top of it, and Lucius was focused very intently on writing something. The nurse stood there for a moment as if to make sure the men wouldn't be at each other's throats as soon as she left, and when she seemed satisfied she turned and walked out, leaving them alone.

Gilderoy sat on his bed and watched Lucius' quill work. After a few minutes he said "Well, you can't have been doing too bad, can you? I mean, they gave you something to write with."

"I suppose not," said Lucius. When he said nothing else, Gilderoy decided to try another tack.

"Are you a writer?"

"Only in the loosest form of the word."

"What do you mean?"

"Am I writing?"

There was an uncomfortable-seeming pause.

"What are you writing?"

"Something dark and morbid and oh so full of joy. Why don't you just shut up and let me finish, and then maybe I'll let you see it."

Gilderoy fell silent. After awhile, Marlene came in and looked around the room. She did this twice more before it occurred to Gilderoy to ask -

"Are you still on suicide checks?"

"She's checking, isn't she?"

"…that's very annoying, you know."

"Mmmm…what is?"

"Answering questions with another question. Not a lot gets done that way."

"It makes you think, doesn't it? Or is that too much to ask for? And if you must know the answer to your inane little question, yes, I'm on five-minute checks until we go to sleep."

"…which will be now," said Marlene from the doorway. "Maybe tomorrow you'll do better, Lucius?"

"You know I will," Lucius said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm sure. Either way, bed. Now."

Lucius placed his quill down neatly on the desk and closed the ink bottle. He then proceeded to extinguish the candle. With his bare hand.

"Lucius, honestly!" cried Marlene, rushing over to him. She pulled her wand out and muttered something. Lucius shook his hand out a bit, then said "Thank you, Marlene."

"Don't you dare go doing that again, or you'll be writing in the dark. In confinement."

"Yes, I know," Lucius muttered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to change."

Due to the darkness, Gilderoy couldn't see Marlene's expression; either way, she turned and stalked out of the room. Lucius' face was illuminated in the glow of the torchlight in the hall, so in the seconds before the door closed Gilderoy could see him giving a self-satisfied smirk. Then the door was closed and it was dark again.

Gilderoy stood up and felt his way to the dresser, pulling out a nightshirt. He changed out of his robes and into the nightshirt fairly quickly, then he lay down on his bed. It made him feel slightly better when Lucius did the same; at least his roommate would be sleeping in a horizontal position tonight.

There was a silence that lasted for all of ten seconds.

"Lucius?"

"...enh."

"What did you do to end up in here?"

"Let's see. I'm on suicide watch and I'm not happy about being here. Dear me, what could I have done?"

"Well, yes, but I want to know how…"

"I was standing on the roof of the Manor naked. I planned on staying there until I caught a chill and died."

"…oh."

"You wouldn't know sarcasm if it hit you upside the head with a mallet. You are aware of that, right?"

"Well, I don't see why you should have to be so sarcastic anyway. After all, you're a very interesting person as it is, I think. And it's not as though you have to hide behind it. I'll bet you could make millions if you wanted to."

There was a rather undignified snort from the bed across the room, and Gilderoy wondered what he had said that was so amusing. Good lord - with his luck he had just said that to a celebrity of some sort. Either that or…he tried to remember what Lucius had said his last name was. Something with M. Mal. Malevolent? …suiting though it was, he didn't think that was it.

"What is your last name, anyway?"

"Are you sure your memory was the only thing obliterated? Or while we're at it, that it was only wiped out once? It's Malfoy."

"Where have I heard your name before? I know I must have heard about you from somewhere, but I can't exactly remember where. Oh…you're not one of my friends, are you?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Well, I must have heard of you from somewhere else."

"The bookshop, maybe?"

"So you are a writer!"

There was an odd noise then - it sounded as though Lucius had smacked himself in the forehead with his hand. "Never mind."

"Are you published? How long have you been out? I really would like to talk to you about your works...although exactly what they are has escaped me…"

"Lockhart!"

"What?

"Just. Stop. Talking."