A/N: Kind of an information overload chapter. :D I owe so many thanks to Snapeswidow for helping me write the scene at Malfoy Manor. She's, in fact, working on a companion piece for the Malfoys after Severus left. :D I'll link it up with mine over on AO3. I'm hard at work on the next chapter, so it should be up soon. Enjoy. :D
Master of Disguise
In what felt like his hundredth hotel room since his arrival to the past, Severus sat upon yet another uncomfortable and filthy bed, his eyes fixated on his tarnished ring. It had once been as sparkly as a fairy on a warm spring night. At least, that was how his wife would have described it knowing her. He closed his eyes as his fingertips brushed over the dull silver band a moment later.
Before his family had cruelly been ripped away from him, he had taken the time to polish his wedding ring whenever he took it off, wanting it to remain as perfect and pristine as possible to symbolize his love and commitment to his wife. However, after her death, he soon decided after a few days of having polished the ring there was no point in continuing it anymore, as polishing his wedding ring would not bring his wife and child back. So, he let it tarnish and fade, losing himself to his grief.
Returning to the past had not helped his ring either, he decided with a quiet sigh. Not a single speck of silver glistened anymore. But that would change once he had succeeded. Once his mission was complete, then the silver ring engraved with the words 'Always and forever' on its underside would shine brighter than all the stars in the sky.
With a groan, he shook his head and glanced away. None of that was doing him any good frankly. He blamed his current mood solely on the shoddy, depressing wallpaper that surrounded him. After all, who honestly in their right mind would put up black wallpaper with little white teardrops speckled about in a hotel room?
Leaning forward a moment later, he grabbed the Daily Prophet from the nightstand beside him and propped it open. The front page, he decided, might as well have been a recruitment advertisement for the Ministry with all the stories about various successful raids the Aurors had carried out since the Dark Lord's supposed defeat. He turned the page, his eyes instantly narrowing on an article.
"Unnamed Ministry officials state that Auror Chloe Tompkins will be awarded posthumously the Order of Merlin, second-class for her heroic actions in Cokeworth last week. Readers will recall that Auror Tompkins bravely lost her life battling Death Eaters who had appeared in the highly Muggle populated village in the English midlands."
Cokeworth? His brows furrowed. Was it possible that his past self—or rather present self—had finally chosen to approach their father after years of being too angry at what occurred in the past to even attempt to hear his father's side of the story? He supposed it made sense. Tobias had his moments of being a good father at times (even his past self knew that deep down), and at his worst Tobias certainly was nowhere close to being like Roger was.
A soft smile graced his lips then as a thought occurred to him. Had it not been for his wife's obvious Snow White-like qualities, he never would have gotten the chance to get to know his father again and learn the truth of what had really occurred.
When he was finally alert enough to communicate effectively after Nagini nearly killed him, Severus had been filled with regret. His not having the courage to speak with his father was the largest one by far. So, when his would-be wife brought his father to St. Mungo's a few days later, he was furious. But, in time, his anger faded and gratefulness replaced it. She had given Tobias and Severus a second chance to get to know one another. To heal.
Severus hoped that would be the case again this time. He then silently chuckled as he imagined little Harry laughing with Tobias as they waited for his younger self to approach, unaware of their hiding behind a corner. Tobias would certainly turn the boy into a bit of a prankster, or at the very least a harmless miscreant. James Potter would be proud of his son if he were looking down on them.
With a content sigh, he turned the page. When he caught the article concerning a scandal in the Muggle world at a place called Grunnings, he felt his good mood start to falter. Of all the things he had thought he'd read, this was certainly not one of them. After reading the article in its entirety, he decided the only reason the Prophet had even printed it was to fill their page. It wasn't as if witches and wizards truly cared anything about a nasty Muggle woman killing her abusive husband and running off with their only son, least of all a Muggle named Petunia Evans-Dursley.
He then moved onto the next article, his eyes catching the moving photo of a visibly shaken Frank and Alice Longbottom with their young toddler in their arms. He skimmed the write up, closing his eyes a moment later in relief. Neville would not suffer the same fate as before.
"Sources within the Ministry state that Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was instrumental in stopping the attack on Alice and Frank Longbottom earlier this week. He and others arrived at the Longbottom home in the late morning hours of the first and quickly began to drive back the Lestranges who, it is rumored, were there to torture the Longbottoms in order to learn of their Master's current whereabouts. In a statement to the Daily Prophet, Auror Alastor Moody declared that while the Lestranges are currently on the run, they would soon be captured and join their brothers and sisters in Azkaban like the scum they are.
When asked later about the attack on the Longbottoms, Headmaster Dumbledore simply replied, 'A young boy will grow up with his two loving parents now, spared from the resulting pain of an old man's foolish hope for a better world.' We at the Daily Prophet, of course, pressed Headmaster Dumbledore to explain, but he merely declined and walked away from us."
Good. The old man had learned his lesson after all. There was hope yet for him.
Severus tossed the paper aside then and slowly got to his feet, stretching. Harry would grow up in a household who would appreciate and love him this time. And Neville, he would actually know his parents this time, not just hear the stories of their bravery from his grandmother. There would be no child of prophecy, not anymore. For a moment, Severus felt pity for Sybill, knowing that she would likely never get credit for her rare prophecy of truth now. However, that moment quickly passed.
Dumbledore would still know the truth. The old man would likely even know Harry was the boy Sybill had referred to in her prophecy, thanks to Severus showing him what his future had looked like. Only the rest of the world wouldn't know it this time, as the truth would not be beneficial for Dumbledore to reveal to the rest of the world. Not to mention that it'd be rather difficult to explain and get others to believe. Dumbledore would be seen as a bumbling old fool if he even attempted it. No, no, the old man would remain silent this time, wrestling with his own guilt of what might have been.
As it should have been, Severus thought before he walked into the cramped bathroom. He grimaced when he caught his reflection in the grimy mirror. The white, jagged scars peeked out from underneath his collar. He would keep those as reminders, he decided. The rest, though . . .
Previously put in the bathroom was a brown paper bag that he pulled a pair of thin, silver scissors from, which he set on one of the ledges in the bathroom. A square box then went to rest on another shower ledge. Lastly, he took out a pair of thinly black-rimmed glasses, placing them onto the nearby sink counter. With everything in its place now, he undressed, tossing his clothes out into the living area of the room.
He stepped into the shower a moment later, making sure not to turn the water on. Grabbing the small square box beside him, he quickly read the directions before he followed them step-by-step. His face scrunched up from the toxic scent of ammonia wafting around him soon after. It would have been easier to have just used magic, but being in Muggle London had nixed that idea.
With nothing better to do as he waited for the dye to work several moments later, he looked through the list of ingredients before he quickly became bored with it. He then moved onto recalling his final moments in the Gaunt shack just a week ago.
After he had poured his specially-developed potion and melted the ugly ring in the Gaunt shack thereby destroying the Horcrux inside it, he noticed prior to leaving a black stone with a crack down its middle resting in the resulting goo from his potion. Nothing but the goo should have remained, as the potion was designed to liquefy everything magical it encountered. Yet, there was the black stone that defied it. It had taken Severus a few moments before he recalled Harry saying something once about a Deathly Hallow that was similar in appearance: the Resurrection stone. Severus quickly snatched it from the goo then, his heart aching to see his wife once more. He had then snuck back into his room at the Hanged Man pub and spent the night before he moved onto the next Horcrux to destroy.
Now certain he had wasted enough time waiting for the dye to work, he quickly turned the water on and rinsed his hair. Several moments later, he grabbed the thin, silver scissors beside him and started to cut his long hair, the clumps falling onto the shower floor as a result. He did his best to keep his hair as evenly cut as he could, but he knew it was unfortunately futile. There was a reason, after all, it was best to have someone else cut one's hair. Once it was short enough to his liking, he set the now-hairy scissors down onto the shower's ledge. His fingers then combed through his hair, shaking the loose clumps out. When he was satisfied he had rinsed everything all out ten minutes later, he shut the water off and stepped out of the shower onto the ugly pink mat. He yanked a towel from the rack beside him and quickly dried himself off, tossing the soggy towel onto the floor soon after. Grabbing the glasses from the counter, he walked back out of the bathroom and redressed.
Glancing at his reflection a few moments later, he put the glasses on. His nose was still too long in his opinion, but the glasses helped distract from that a bit. With the final touch of ruffling his hair, he nodded. At least now he could leave and not worry about someone recognizing him, something he had been worrying about frequently since his arrival to London. One disguise down.
An hour later, Severus was brushing past the large groups of happy witches and wizards who had gathered on the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley. It had been a week since the Dark Lord had been defeated, and yet one would think it was just yesterday with the way they were still carrying on.
He bit back his annoyance each time someone bumped into him. He couldn't blame them for being happy, but the least they could do was pay attention to where they were going. As he neared Slug and Jiggers Apothecary, he pulled his robes closer to his body before he slipped inside.
"Welcome," said the small man behind the counter as Severus entered. "If you don't see what you're looking for, just ask and I'll check the back." He then turned away to count something.
Severus, however, ignored the man's pleasantries and headed towards the shelves of potions. He plucked an amber-filled phial first and then moved towards the thick sludge-like bottle a few shelves up.
"Ah, Polyjuice. Rather difficult to brew, you know?" muttered one of the shop workers. "Can only be brewed when—"
"How much?" Severus interrupted.
"Oh. I'm certain it's too rich for your blood."
Severus's eyes narrowed on the man, resisting the urge to hex him. "How much?" he repeated.
"Well, considering its difficulty and the amount of preparation required . . ." the man's voice trailed off as his finger ran down his jawline. "Nine hundred galleons."
Scoffing, Severus forced his smile even more. Didn't this man know whom he was dealing with? "Oh, really? I have it on good word that you charge Lucius Malfoy only seventy-five." He caught the man's surprise instantly. "So, tell me. That price wouldn't be a sort of, shall we say, discount for, you know, dark wizards, would it? Because if so, I would imagine the Ministry would be quite interested in your shop these days if they knew that . . . wouldn't you?" He watched the man's color vanish.
"Are you threatening me?"
"Heavens, no," Severus said with a chuckle before he glanced towards the door and smiled when a young man in a Ministry outfit entered. "Auror Reynolds!" he loudly announced, recognizing the young Auror from the photo that had been in the Prophet earlier. He grinned at the young man when he turned towards him.
"All right. Fine. You win," hissed the shop worker under his breath. "Seventy-five."
Severus, however, only laughed, clapping the worker on the shoulder. "I was just telling this young man about you and all the wonderful work you've done for the Ministry lately." The Auror raised his brow at him slightly. "You're the one who captured Sirius Black a few days ago, weren't you? Just brilliant. Really. Keep up the good work."
"Thank you." The Auror then glanced towards the shop keeper, looking him over, before he calmly walked back out, likely deciding that everything was all right in the shop.
Pulling the last of his galleons that he had brought with him out of his robes, Severus dropped them into the shop worker's hands, heading for the door soon after. He was getting quite a store of potions now. He walked down the cobblestone street, heading towards the dark alley of Knockturn.
Once he had reached the dark alcove, he paused briefly and dug back into his robes, pulling out a small pocket knife a moment later. He coated the blade with the amber potion, tossing the empty phial into a nearby garbage. Leaning back, he rested against the cool brick and waited. It wouldn't be long now if he was right. As he waited, he watched the people walk past unaware of his presence.
"Watch where you're going," snapped a tall, blond-haired wizard when he bumped hard into someone as he stormed out of a nearby shop.
Severus smirked. Obviously, Lucius was in the best of moods today. Well then, he might as well help the blond have an even better day, he decided, stepping out and walking behind the blonde. He waited until Lucius neared the larger crowds before he jogged in front of him. Severus's dark eyes glanced out of the corner briefly every now and then to glance at the reflections in the shop windows just to make sure that Lucius was still behind him. When he was ready, he suddenly whirled around and collided with the blonde. Both of them nearly falling onto the ground as a result of the collision.
"Bloody hell!" Lucius yelled out, hissing in pain before he took a step back.
"Apologies," Severus said, forcing a rasp out of his throat to disguise his voice.
"You're lucky I won't curse you for that, you idiot!" Lucius glared back, no recognition apparent in his cold gray eyes, before he brushed past, rubbing at his forearm.
Severus stepped to the side and waited, his eyes trained on Lucius's back. When he caught the first stumble in the blonde's stride, he felt his good mood increase. It wouldn't be long now. And he was right. Lucius stumbled and fell to the ground shortly after, the amber potion finally reaching its target. A trip to St. Mungo's with an afternoon full of potions being poured down his throat would surely brighten Lucius's day. He waited until the good Samaritans rushed to Lucius's side before he Disapparated away, chuckling. In his defense, the blonde never should have told Severus of his allergy to peppermint.
Arriving a few moments later in front of a large handsome manor complete with lush gardens, Severus paused just at the iron gates. He reached into his robes, pulling out the Polyjuice potion he had previously stored. He then added a drop of Lucius's blood that had collected on the blade of his pocket knife to the thick, mud potion. He watched the potion changed to a dirty gray color and sighed, tossing it back and closing his eyes at the sour taste. As he felt the magic sweep over him, his body reshaping itself into Lucius's form, he drew in sharp breaths before it soon became easier to breathe. He removed the glass, pocketing them.
He carefully removed his true wand a moment later, tapping it against his robes. His robes quickly changed into a black shirt, black pants with an elegant cloak complete with a clasp that had the Malfoy crest on it. He tapped his wand next against the empty potion bottle, amused when Lucius's trademark cane appeared in his hand a moment later. Excellent.
Not long afterwards, Severus saluted the black iron gates in the usual manner. He was quite glad when the wards easily allowed him inside the grounds a moment later, passing through the ornate black gates as if they were smoke. He'd admit later that not knowing if the wards would be able to distinguish between him and his other self was rather unsettling. But it had thought they were one thankfully.
He passed the albino peacocks silently, noting that one of the infernal creatures was approaching him. He'd never understand why Lucius kept the stupid thing. They served no real purpose. Just another thing Lucius could brag about. He shooed the white peacock away a moment later, just stopping short of kicking it when it resisted his urgings.
Once he was inside the manor several minutes later, he passed by a rather large mirror, catching his reflection. He grimaced inwardly when he saw the long white locks and softer features. He had now changed his appearance twice, and as horrible as it was to admit, he still didn't feel any more comfortable with himself. He shook his head, though, and continued up the stairs, pausing when he caught sight of the beautiful witch waiting with a glass of elf wine in hand. He swallowed. Narcissa.
She smiled tenderly at him, her eyes radiating with warmth and love. "You're certainly home early, love," she remarked, taking one last sip of her wine before placing the half-empty glass on a side table for a house elf to collect. "Did you forget something?" she inquired, descending down the stairs to stand before her husband. The green silk of her nearly see-through gown clung to her like a second skin.
He smiled back, though, doing his best not to turn and run from her. So far, she seemed to believe that he was Lucius. He just had to keep the mask up. Inhaling slowly, he began to speak, relying on his memories of how Lucius sounded and spoke. "Nothing of importance, my dear, when compared to you," he replied smoothly, playing the affectionate husband.
"Such flattery from those lips today," she purred, dipping her head to glance coyly at her husband through her long lashes. "And here I thought your earlier grumpiness would spoil our fun."
"Never."
"Then you feel better since your trip?"
He paused for a moment before he shook his head. "I admit I do not feel quite myself yet, but I'm certainly getting there. Perhaps tomorrow."
"I hope so, love." She then smiled at him.
"So, where is our lovely Dragon?" He glanced around the room. "Down for his nap?"
Still not raising her head, Narcissa narrowed her eyes at his sudden change in subject. "Dobby is watching over him while he sleeps."
"Ah. So, it's just us then." He drew in a slow breath. "How wonderful."
"Indeed." She then moved to stand on the same step as her husband, their bodies now pressed together from toe to chest. "You know how our lovely son can sleep for hours..." Emerald painted nails found their way to the black ribbon tying Lucius's hair back a moment later. She gave a gentle tug, pulling the slip of fabric free. "I can think of a few things we can do with our free time, hmm?"
"You can?" he replied breathlessly. He hadn't anticipated that she'd be in one of these moods.
Blinking slowly as her fingers worked their way into his hair, Narcissa gave the blond locks a gentle tug. "Are you being obtuse on purpose? Or is this a new game you wish to explore?"
He stared at her. A new game? He then groaned inwardly. If he didn't play the part, she'd know the truth. And the only thing deadlier than the Dark Lord was a Slytherin woman, especially when that woman was Narcissa. He drew in a slow breath, emptying his mind. It had to be believable. He couldn't be Severus. Not now. "I apologize, my love." His voice softened into that familiar caressing, loving tone of Lucius's. "It's just... I am worried about the Aurors. There were whispers from the others today, whispers that warned of them raiding the old families. Our family." He gently grabbed her hand, kissing each of her fingertips tenderly. "Forgive me, my beautiful nymph."
She sighed heavily as she squeezed his hand sympathetically in return. "Let them search to their hearts content, Lucius. We have nothing to hide." She then held her head up a bit higher before she sniffed the air. "They will find nothing if they do, as I have moved everything that could be considered 'Dark' to my sister's vault." A smile tugged at her lips. "So, if they decide to poke their blood traitor noses into the Lestrange or Black family vaults, well, whatever they find will go against my sister and that Blood traitor cousin of mine, not us, my love." She grinned outright. "After all, nothing says noble and most ancient House of Black better than a bit of blackmail, backstabbing, and sabotage."
He paled instantly, unable to hide his despair. "Even the journal?" he whispered. If she had moved that, then he had come here for nothing. It was all for naught.
Narcissa shook her head, though, her eyes narrowing on him in confusion. "It's a blank journal, Lucius. I doubt even Dumbledore would know whom it belonged to if he looked at it, let alone an Auror." She then crossed her arms, staring at him suspiciously. "It's still on the top shelf of your father's bookcase."
He glanced towards the old study at once. He had to destroy it once and for all. But how would he do that with Narcissa around? She certainly wouldn't allow her husband to face evil alone. Not after the suspicions he had stupidly already cast.
"Lucius, what in the world is going on? Why are you acting so strangely? Answer me."
He turned back towards her. "Narcissa, I must ask something of you and you must not question me right now. It is important you do not. For I was a fool, my love. A terrible fool." He closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping. "I do not know what is contained in that book, but it is vile, Narcissa. The blackest of all magic." He grabbed her hands, holding them in his own. "Tell me you have not noticed that darkness inside it as well." He felt her hands contract instinctively, knowing that he had been right in his assumption. "We . . . I shudder to even say it aloud now . . . but we must destroy it." He watched her eyes widen in surprise. "I . . . Forgive me, my dear sweet beautiful Narcissa, so fair as you are lovely. Forgive me for darkening our lives for so long, for putting us in such terrible danger as I have. Let us let go of that past once and for all and embrace our future—succeed for good this time."
Narcissa followed his gaze toward the door to Abraxas's old study. Severus knew that she would never have witnessed before Lucius speak so fearfully of any of the Dark artifacts in the house like he was supposedly speaking of Tom Riddle's diary now. In fact, it was why he had chosen this approach in the first place. To make her see how serious and dangerous the situation really was and appeal to her loving wife persona.
Slowly turning back towards him, Narcissa wore a look that showed she was mere seconds from demanding he tell her what evil he had brought into her home, but a moment later Severus saw the look vanish as she held her tongue. He knew exactly what she was thinking. If not knowing would protect her and Draco if worse came to worse, then she would allow him his secrets this time. Tugging his hands to regain his attention, she squared her shoulders. "Very well. How do we destroy it?"
His lips pressed tightly together for a moment, as if he was thinking about the answer. Lucius wouldn't have known how to destroy a Horcrux, let alone what it was in the first place. The man may have enjoyed collecting all sorts of dark artifacts, but that didn't mean he knew what each of them did. It was all about status with Lucius, not knowledge. In fact, that was likely why Lucius had accepted the journal to hide in first place. What better item to collect than something given to him by the Dark Lord?
"I honestly don't know for certain," he lied. "I can only give you my best guess." He sighed heavily. "I seem to recall Severus stating once that the best way to rid one of anything dark is to destroy it beyond all magical repair." He gave a somber half-laugh. "I doubt if we cast the Killing Curse on it, though, it'll work. So, best guess, we use a powerful cutting curse, one that cannot be repaired." He felt the wave of anger from her instantly and braced himself for her obvious outrage.
"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy!" she snarled, her knuckles turning white as she death gripped his hands. "You brought something into our home that you haven't a clue as to how to destroy?!" She glanced towards the wing of the manor where the nursery was, likely hoping her raised voice hadn't woken her young son. When there was no resulting cry from the small boy, she turned back to him. "You're guessing now?" She then pulled her hands back from his and threw her hands up in frustration. "If you don't get that thing destroyed properly today so help me, Draco will be an only child, Lucius, and your bed will be damn cold!"
A part of Severus thought about laughing at the threat, but a bigger part knew that would have been most unwise. While Lucius may have lost his ways every now and then, he did serve his purpose and did not deserve to lose Narcissa. In fact, truth be told, Severus had always thought that after Lucius had married the beautiful blond, she had helped Lucius heal from Abraxas's brainwashing.
"Well, dear," he said sarcastically, "do you have any ideas?"
"Oh I have a few, but I'd run out of answers to Draco asking where his father is," she snapped back before gathering up the bottom of her gown and storming up the stairs.
He was instantly reminded of another witch who was just as feisty as Narcissa and just as beautiful in his opinion. Something all Slytherin women had in common, he decided with a silent laugh.
"Well, are you coming or not, Lucius?" she yelled over her shoulder when she got to the top step before she strode off with clear purpose in each step.
He quickly pushed back the memories and ran after her. As he fell in step with her, he realized their destination. She was leading him to the study. "What are you doing?" Dear Merlin, if she faced the Horcrux alone, Lucius would never forgive him . . . Hell, he wouldn't forgive himself either.
She whirled around. "If you won't destroy it, I will! Even if I have to burn the manor with it."
"There's no need to be so drastic, dear." He grabbed her arm gently, just above her elbow. "Please. I couldn't bear to lose you, Narcissa."
She looked down at where his hand rested on her arm, wanting to slap it away. "Then destroy that damned book before I make you regret bringing it into this house," she replied calmly, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she moved away from the door.
"I already do," he mumbled before he nodded and headed towards the study. He pulled Lucius's wand out of the cane's handle, inhaling deeply before they walked in. "Accio Riddle's Diary." The book came soaring through the air soon after.
The moment the cool leather touched his skin, he felt a chill deep within his soul. His Mark, long since faded into an abysmal scar now, ached underneath his sleeve. He felt the Horcrux's darkness start to surround and suffocate him. Staring at Riddle's diary, he heard the voice calling to him . . . begging him to stop. He swallowed, his wand shaking. Idly, he wondered if she heard the voices as well.
"What in Merlin's name," she cut herself off when she likely noticed that her husband appeared paler than usual and shaking like a leaf. She slowly turned around in a circle a moment later, likely thinking a house elf or two were in the room with them. After all, what else could it be?
When she faced him again, a look of recognition instantly crossed her face. The whispering was coming from the book itself. Goosebumps broke out along her skin as she took a step away from Lucius. This room had always seemed malevolent to her. Like the darkness and evil that was Abraxas Malfoy had seeped into the walls of the room itself. Could it have been the book that made her nearly ill whenever she had been in this room and not the Bastard who sired her husband? Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Narcissa raised her wand, the tip pointed at her husband. "Lucius, drop the diary." When he continued to stare at the book, she stepped closer. "Lucius, please..."
Vaguely, he heard her saying Lucius's name, but he kept staring at the diary. Why was this becoming so difficult? He had done this before, twice in fact. But each time now, the effort required had increased, more fight was needed in order to ignore the darkness that tried to seduce him again. It was an evil mistress, Horcruxes. He knew what needed to be done. So, why couldn't he do it? Why was he unable to move? Had he truly become that weak after his last encounter?
"I'm sorry," Narcissa whispered beside him soon after.
The moment he felt her strong Stinging hex, he dropped the book, gasping at its intensity. His eyes darted to her, a brief flicker of anger passing over his features before it quickly vanished.
She swallowed thickly and raised her wand again. "You said something about a cutting curse?"
Yes. Right. He had. He nodded stiffly then, turning away from her. He had a job to finish. Then he could leave her and figure out what was going on. His wand then pointed down at the book. With a harsh slash through the air with his wand, he cast his trademark curse nonverbally. A loud crack echoed around the room before the curse rebounded, forcing him to dive out of the way and wince as he collided with the floor. Pieces of the stone wall blast apart the second the curse hit it, raining down around them.
"What the fuck did the megalomaniac put into that book!" Narcissa swore as she, too, hit the floor beside him. Checking herself for any injuries and finding nothing, she moved over to check on Lucius, who lay flat on his back sucking in deep breaths of air. "Are you hurt, love?" She examined him closely, the healer in her taking over. A pale brow arched questioningly when she found a large snake fang in one of Lucius' pockets a moment later. "What is this?" she asked, pulling it out to show him.
He groaned, rubbing the back of his head for a moment before he glanced at her. His eyes narrowed on the fang she had pulled out of his pocket before it clicked. "Basilisk fang. I forgot I had that." He then turned back towards the book, the swirl of darkness quickly overpowering him again and silencing his own thoughts.
"You can have that life again," a young male voice whispered from the book. "You need only ask. Come. Put that away. Let us give you what you want . . . what you need."
Narcissa gripped the fang tighter in her hand as she heard the whispered words and saw his eyes cloud over again. "No," she whispered venomously, as she got to her feet. "You had control over my family and my life for far too long." She stepped slowly towards the book as she spoke. "You took my sisters, my husband, my friends, and made us no better than a House Elf!" She looked at the fang in her hand and stood over the book. "Go to hell with your master and tell him Narcissa sent you." Raising the fang, Narcissa dropped to her knees and stabbed the book clear in the center. As the book spewed black ink as if spilling its blood, Narcissa continued to stab, ink staining her hands, hair and face and mixed with the tears that slipped from her eyes.
The voices quieted at once before a loud roar erupted from the book, sending both of them sprawling backwards again. He grabbed Narcissa this time as they flew back, preventing her from hitting her head against a table's edge. A large black inky darkness flew up, screaming and roaring as it flew up and burst out of the manor.
She braced herself against her husband as they fell, turning slightly to watch the black mass as it dissipated. With her ears ringing from the noise, Narcissa turned to Lucius. "What was that?" Poking him in the side with her wand, she glared, clearly deciding that he surely knew more than what he was telling. "And don't lie to me."
Deciding that he owed her at least some explanation now considering she had destroyed it for him, he answered her. "Some sort of Dark Magic. Darker than I ever learned." He drew in a shaky breath and closed his eyes. That was too close for his liking. He would have to prepare himself more the next time to prevent this from occurring again. He then looked her over. "Are you all right, Narcissa?"
She stared at him, eyes narrowed before she shook her head. "I won't be able to hear clearly for a few days, but other than that, I'm not hurt." A sound between a sob and a laugh escaped her mouth before she could stop it. Pushing herself up, she sat back and looked him over. "You stupid, idiotic man, bringing that thing in this house." Shaking her head, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his.
With guilt at kissing another woman tugging inside him, he paused momentarily before he kissed her back, knowing that it would throw up red flags if he didn't. As it was, all she knew at this point was that she and Lucius had nearly died because of some stupid Dark book the Dark Lord had entrusted to her husband. So, why wouldn't she kiss him to celebrate the fact that they had survived, free of the evil at last? He couldn't blame her for that.
Her fingers once again slipped through his hair, leaving streaks of black in his pale locks.
Severus couldn't help but breathe in deeply, his eyes closing. It had been so long since someone had kissed him like that. Just a few more moments and he'd have himself convinced that he was kissing his wife again, holding her just one more time. If only . . .
Narcissa pushed him back against the floor without breaking the kiss, the hand not tangled in his hair moving to the buttons on his shirt.
He grabbed her hands then. This was another man's wife, not his. He couldn't do this. It wasn't fair or right to her. He needed to end this before it went too far. Inhaling her rich scent, he deepened the kiss before he cast a sleeping charm on her, feeling her go limp against him soon after.
Gently picking her up, he carried her into the master bedroom, placing her in the large bed. He brushed her hair back tenderly. She would be angry when she woke up later. He considered sparing Lucius that misplaced ire, but decided against it. Who was he to take away her stand against the darkness that had entered her family's lives? No, he'd let her remember that. He then waved his wand over her, siphoning the black ink from her hair, face, hands, and elsewhere. Whirling around, he headed back towards the study, vanishing the rest of the ink but leaving the book open on the floor. He grabbed the Basilisk fang from the book a moment later, knowing he would need an extra just in case he ran into issues like this again. He then turned, hearing footsteps on the stairs. Lucius had likely returned. Without a word, he headed in the opposite direction, slipping out of the manor.