A/N: I'm still alive! I'm trying to write at least a little bit of this story every weekend so this time the wait wasn't so long, I hope. No Luna this time, but I hope I pleased all the Lucius fans out there :)

As Xeno had predicted, the article unveiling the details of Snape's life caused quite a stir in the wizarding world. In many people's eyes, Snape had moved up from being an unknown entity (or, for those he had taught, unpopular Potions Master) to something of a hero, almost on par with Potter. As could be expected, his residence did not remain secret for long, and soon journalists as well as common folk were crowding outside his door, hoping to get an interview with or just a glimpse of the Man-Who-Had-Survived-His-Own-Death, as he came to be called.

He did not give them the satisfaction. Instead, he strengthened the wards around his home, and whenever he needed to leave, which was not often, he Apparated straight out of his living room. He found it somewhat paradoxical that he had fought so hard to be a free man, only to end up cloistered in his own house, having to do even his shopping by owl delivery. He did not doubt it was only a temporary situation, that sooner or later the throng would find another so-called celebrity to stalk, but that did not make it any less annoying. He had never asked to be famous, but he guessed it was a sacrifice he had to make, at least for a time. To his own surprise, on one occasion he actually caught himself thinking about Potter as he watched the crowd staring hungrily into his windows, suddenly feeling the tiniest bit of sympathy for him. Ever since the boy started attending Hogwarts, he had automatically assumed he enjoyed basking in the limelight, just like his father had done, but now that he knew him slightly better, he started to question whether it was really so. He was reckless and impulsive, yes, but his eagerness to throw himself headfirst into action did not seem to be driven by desire for more fame as he had always thought, but rather a false belief that if he did not save whoever needed saving at the given time, nobody would. Which, objectively, was not much better, but at least it was something Snape could, to a certain degree, identify with. After switching sides, he had also fought hard to save as many lives as he was able, even at the risk of losing his own. Unfortunately, it seemed like no amount of lives saved could soothe his guilty conscience. He wondered whether Potter had felt the same after Black had died, largely by his own fault. He remembered he had been dubbed 'the Chosen One' the year after, but perhaps he had welcomed becoming even more famous about as much as Snape currently welcomed his house being besieged by journalists. He could not quite imagine what he would have done had he been exposed to this sort of publicity all his life like Potter had. Perhaps Rita Skeeter would have ended her career early due to mysterious injuries.

Getting this far in his thoughts, he shook his head in disgust. Had he really just compared himself to Potter? It must be the isolation. At Hogwarts there had always been someone knocking on his door, whether one of his Slytherins whining about being hexed or Dumbledore stopping by for an annoyingly cheerful friendly chat, so that in the evening he could not wait to climb into bed where nobody would (usually) bother him, but now he found himself missing the hustle and bustle of the castle. After Luna had left for Hogwarts to finish her last year of education, the only person he could visit when he felt the need to talk was her father, but as there was only so much time he was able to spend discussing Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and the like, he was willing to accept pretty much anyone's offer of a chat, just to escape the solitude of his own home. Imagine that, Severus Snape, grasping at straws just to get someone to talk to him. Even as Headmaster, he had noticed that spending time alone did not bring him as much joy as it once did, and it obviously had not got any better, quite the opposite. And all because he had got too used to having Luna around; not that he regretted it, of course. Becoming a more social person (which, in other words, meant developing a dependence on other people's company) was still a small price to pay for the moments they had shared and, at least until Luna got tired of him, would share in the future. For now, however, he had to settle for letters, and the prospect of seeing Luna during the Christmas holidays. Never, as far as he could remember, did four months seem to drag on forever like they did now. Pathetic as it was, he had even started counting the days left till Christmas like a little child, no matter how hard he was trying to convince himself that he was certainly doing nothing of the sort. Clearly, he needed to meet other people than just Xeno in order not to go mad before Luna got back ... such as the already mentioned Potter. If he had not been so desperate, he would never have agreed to the boy's proposal of coming round for a visit, but desperate he was, and so he grudgingly accepted, and even more grudgingly admitted, after the Gryffindor had left, that it had not been nearly as bad as he had expected. From then on, Potter took the liberty of inviting himself over at regular intervals, while Snape slowly moved from not minding his company to actually looking forward to it, though he would rather eat a bunch of Flobberworms than admit it, least of all to Potter himself.

However, in no way did that mean that he spent all his days sitting idly around, unable to function on his own. Not only did he tirelessly dissect Moon Frogs into the tiniest pieces, combining them with various substances in the hope of getting an unexpected reaction, but, since their secretion really did not seem to have any unpleasant side effects, he also contacted St Mungo's to see if they were interested. Unsurprisingly, they virtually jumped at his offer, and so he intensified his frog breeding in order to provide them with regular supplies. Also, more to keep himself busy than for the money, of which he had plenty with more coming in for the secretion (originally, he wanted to give all profits to the Lovegoods, as the Moon Frogs were, in fact, their discovery, but as Xeno would not hear of it, they finally settled on splitting the money in half), he made an agreement with the hospital to concoct some of the more difficult potions for them, as several of their best potion makers had perished in the war and it had not been easy to find replacements. Still, even with all these activities, by the time it got dark he was usually too exhausted to keep working, and it was then that the loneliness crept in, which not even a book was able to dispel. And so it was in this state that an owl came to find him one evening, carrying a letter which he instantly recognised to be from Lucius.

Severus,

It might have come to your attention that our entire family has been sentenced to home confinement for the duration of one year. It would therefore please us greatly if you would pay us a visit – simply send this owl back with a note stating when it would be convenient for you.

Regards,

Lucius

Craving human company as much as he did, Snape's first instinct was to accept the offer straight away. He could understand Lucius completely – surely he must be bored to death, having been cut off from the outside world for several months now. He had always been much more sociable compared to himself, frequently throwing lavish parties at his Manor, so if he, Snape, was suffering from loneliness, he could scarcely imagine what it must be like for Lucius. Then again, what if it was a trap of some sort? He might be convinced that, in the end, Lucius was as glad to get rid of the Dark Lord as he was, but could he really be certain it was so? His friend was bound to have read about his trial, which meant that he now knew he had been leading everyone up the garden path, so theoretically he could be plotting revenge. And while he did believe that, if worst came to worst, he could beat the entire Malfoy family in a wand fight, was he willing to risk it? The answer came almost instantly: yes, he was. For once, his cautiousness was no match for his desire to get out of the house, especially since it was also mixed with curiosity about how the Malfoys were coping. He had not seen Lucius since that fateful evening when they parted ways in front of the castle gates, but he was quite sure that, if his friend did not murder him on sight, chatting to him was exactly what he needed to make the wait for Luna's return more bearable. Furthermore, although he did not quite know how home confinement worked, he would imagine there was a guard stationed either inside or outside the Manor, who was sure to come running if things got nasty, so the danger was indeed minimal.

Thus, having made a definitive decision, he hastily scribbled a reply, proposing to visit Malfoy Manor the day after next. He would happily Apparate over that very moment, but he still had his dignity. Or at least what was left of it after he had agreed to regular visits from Potter.

At first glance, Malfoy Manor looked the same as it always did when he appeared in front of the imposing main gate with a resounding crack. He was let in by a gruff man wearing Ministry robes, whom he handed a permit which he had picked up the day before in London. It was charmed to glow upon his touch only so as to avoid any impostors taking his place. Snape had to appreciate the security measure; what with all the Death Eaters still roaming free, one could never be too careful.

Once the wizard deemed him trustworthy, Snape was allowed to make his way towards the house itself, and that was when he started noticing the first changes. Compared to his last visit a few months prior, the garden looked as if nobody had set foot in it since then: the grass was overgrown, the flowerbeds were in bad need of weeding, and he even stepped on some dandelions which were beginning to push through the gravel on the main path. Glancing around, he realised that he did not see Lucius's trademark albino peacocks either, and wondered what had become of them.

At last he arrived at the house, with the Ministry wizard trailing a couple of steps behind. Slightly apprehensive at what he would find inside, he reached for the serpent-shaped knocker and gave it a sharp rap. A moment later, the door was opened by Lucius himself.

"Severus, old friend!" he exclaimed, beaming, immediately pulling Snape into an uncharacteristic hug and patting him on the back. "I am so glad you could make it!"

At that point, however, he probably noticed the Ministry wizard who had remained standing on the doorstep, for he quickly let Snape go and, throwing the man outside a deadly glare, he shut the door in his face.

"Thank Merlin the Ministry stationed him outside," he grumbled. "Just imagining looking at his face all day makes my skin crawl." Then, however, he shook his head, as if shaking all thoughts of the wizard out of his mind, and, with his smile back in place, cried, "But where are my manners? Come, come, let's go to the drawing room. What would you like to drink? Tea? Wine? Whisky?"

"Wine would be nice, thank you," said Snape, following his friend into a room that was much lighter than the dimly lit entrance hall. Thus, he was able to study Lucius more closely as he was pouring them both drinks, and saw that he, much like his garden, looked a little worse for wear: he seemed thinner than Snape remembered him, and it was clear he had not shaved for days.

"So, how have you been keeping?" the blond wizard asked, handing Snape his glass and beckoning for him to sit down in one of two antique armchairs, while he claimed the other. "I've read about your trial in the Daily Prophet. I must say it came as quite a shock. Is all they have written true? Were you really leading us on all along?"

Snape had expected this question to come up, and was glad Lucius had asked it sooner rather than later, apparently unable to contain himself. At least he would know what he was up against right from the start.

"I have not read the Daily Prophet so I cannot say how much of what they have written is based on actual facts," he said measuredly. "That I was working for Dumbledore is true, however."

"Even that it was all because of Potter's mother?" Lucius pressed on, disbelief etched all over his face.

"Even that."

Lucius shook his head, obviously trying to process the unprocessable.

"I knew you were friends back at school," he said thoughtfully. "I even envied you a little; she really was quite pretty. But I would never have thought it ran so deep. You hardly struck me as the romantic type. Or that women interested you at all, to be honest. In fact, and I hope you won't get offended, I sometimes could not help but wonder whether you weren't – ah – otherwise inclined."

It took Snape a moment before it dawned on him exactly what Lucius had meant.

"I most certainly am not," he growled, outraged. "To think that I... Just because it is not my habit to ogle every decent-looking girl like you do does not mean I have to..." Unable to finish the sentence, he took a deep breath instead to chase the revolting image away.

"All right, fine, I admit that was uncalled for," muttered Lucius, holding his hands up in defence, obviously not having expected such a violent reaction. "Being holed up here with only my family for company, I'm clearly starting to lose my social skills, blurting out things that are better left unspoken. So please, forget I said anything, if you can. Instead, let us drink to our meeting here today, to having beaten the odds and surviving the war."

Remembering the connection he had felt when he had first received Lucius's letter, Snape's anger quickly dissipated, only to be replaced by sympathy. He had been right: seclusion was clearly taking its toll on his friend, perhaps more than he had expected. And so he raised his glass in toast to let Lucius know he had already dismissed his unfounded speculations, but not before inconspicuously sniffing the wine for traces of poison. After all, he had not yet heard Lucius's take on his betrayal.

"Truth be told, it is something of a miracle that you are still here," Lucius said after they had both taken a sip (and Snape showed no signs of poisoning). "I had always thought it was nigh impossible to survive Nagini's bite. What was it that saved you again? Some sort of excrement? Sounds a little morbid, if you ask me."

"Secretion, not excrement," Snape corrected him with a grimace. Lucius had always been hopeless at Care of Magical Creatures, considering the subject to be beneath him, so the mistake came as no surprise from a man who had had trouble distinguishing between the front and back of a creature.

"Yes, that," Lucius waved his hand dismissively. "But why did the Dark Lord set Nagini on you in the first place? Did he find out about your treachery?"

"No, but he discovered something else. Do you recall how he was never satisfied with his wand? How he first took yours and then Dumbledore's?"

"How could I ever forget," Lucius nodded grimly. "I've only got a new one recently by owl order."

"I see. Well, I do not know if you are familiar with the concept, but there is such a thing as wand allegiance. You can use another's wand, but it will never work for you as well as your own. Eventually, then, the Dark Lord deduced that Dumbledore's wand did not perform the kind of magic he had expected of it because he did not truly own it."

Lucius's eyes widened. "And because you had killed Dumbledore, he naturally believed... I'm so sorry, Severus! If I'd had any idea what he wanted with you, I would never have... It's like I sent you to your death!"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Oh, come now, Lucius, there is no need to dramatise it. You could not have known. Besides, the Dark Lord was wrong. The true owner of the wand was, in fact, Draco. He had disarmed Dumbledore long before I appeared on the scene. Be grateful the Dark Lord did not consider it significant enough to matter."

"But you knew? Even ... then?"

"I suspected."

"And you didn't tell him?"

"Of course not."

"Severus, I... I don't know what to say," Lucius choked out, and Snape was shocked to see tears in his eyes. "That you were willing to sacrifice your life to save Draco's... How many others would have done that? You are ... the best friend a man could possibly ask for. You are a league above us all."

"Again, you are exaggerating," said Snape, who was starting to feel slightly awkward. "Knowing the Dark Lord, he would have killed both me and Draco if I had told him, just to be on the safe side."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Anybody else in your place would have at least given it a try."

"As you surely recall, only a few minutes before I had sworn to protect your family. Giving Draco away to save my own skin does not exactly meet the definition of protection."

"Promises can be broken," Lucius pressed on doggedly.

"I do my best to keep my word. In fact, the only promises I have ever broken were the ones given to the Dark Lord."

There. If that did not force a reaction out of Lucius regarding his betrayal, he did not know what would. Also, if he was lucky, it might steer the conversation away from Lucius's idolisation of him, which he thought was getting out of hand.

"And it's just as well you did."

"Really?" said Snape casually, not wanting to appear as if he cared. Inwardly, however, he was celebrating: his plan had worked. "And here I was thinking you would resent me for it."

"Why should I? I would never have said it openly, as one never knew who could be listening, but towards the end I could see clearly that the Dark Lord was nothing but a maniac, who was only using us all to achieve his own ends. He would have sacrificed any of us without batting an eyelash if he thought he would profit from it. Even you, as we have seen, whom he considered his most loyal supporter. But I, unlike you, was a coward. I did nothing to stop him. All I could do was offer myself as a punching bag so that he wouldn't hurt Draco."

Snape did not even know how much he had craved for Lucius to forgive him until he felt the wave of relief wash over him. Lucius had always been the older one, his guide, his mentor. He valued his opinions, despite the fact that, especially after he had switched sides, they often differed from his own. He would therefore have been disappointed, sad even, to lose him as a friend, particularly now that anybody who was willing to ease his loneliness counted as a small victory.

He would be damned if he let his sentiment show, however, so instead he asked, "Speaking of Draco, where is he? And Narcissa?"

"They are ... cooking," Lucius replied, scrunching his face up in disgust as if he were talking about something dirty. "Can you imagine they did not even allow us a house-elf? So that now Narcissa, who had never done a day's work in her life before, has to cook and clean like a common housewife? Despicable!"

Inwardly, Snape could not help but smile at the image; picturing Narcissa in the kitchen was like picturing the Queen picking up litter. On a sudden impulse he glanced around, and upon closer inspection spotted a cobweb in one of the corners, which had escaped his notice when he had first come in. Having never had a house-elf himself, he was used to keeping his house relatively tidy whenever he was not at Hogwarts, and he was also no stranger to cooking, albeit on a very basic level, more to keep himself from starving than anything else. He could, however, understand that somebody like Narcissa would find the situation harder to cope with, and wondered whether he should perhaps start worrying about being poisoned unintentionally by her inexpert cooking.

To his surprise, though, the meal he was eventually served was not half as bad as he had feared, and so he made sure to appreciate Narcissa's and Draco's joint efforts. He supposed he was lucky to have been invited for dinner now, after Narcissa had had several months to practise, rather than at the beginning of the Malfoys' confinement. All in all, his visit turned out to be a very pleasant affair indeed, despite his earlier apprehensions; in fact, by the end he could not quite understand why he had ever been worried about coming in the first place. The Malfoys seemed as loath to see him go as he was to leave, which is why it was nearly midnight when he finally found himself standing in the entrance hall again, saying his goodbyes.

"You absolutely have to come again soon," Lucius repeated for about the third time, with Narcissa and Draco having already excused themselves to go and clean up after the meal. "You see, for three months we were not allowed any visitors at all. Now the Ministry has graciously agreed to let us have one. I was frustrated at first; you know how I used to love throwing parties. But when I thought about it, I realised that most of my friends are now either rotting in Azkaban or on the run. And those who aren't, mainly high-ranking Ministry officials, refuse to associate with me. I suppose they feel it would tarnish their reputation if they did, the hypocrites. As if I didn't help many of them get to where they are today. Which got me thinking – have I ever had any real friends at all? And then I thought of you. I admit that, at first, I was worried you wouldn't want to come either, what with being a hero now and all, but you did. And when you told me what you had done for Draco ... well, what I'm trying to say is that you're probably the only true friend I have. So whenever you feel like visiting again, I'll be delighted to see you, as will Narcissa and Draco. You can't imagine what it does to the mind, not being able to get out and see people. It's almost like Azkaban all over again, only without the Dementors."

"Believe me, Lucius, I understand your plight only too well," said Snape, who did not quite know whether to feel moved or embarrassed by his friend's openness. "Therefore, I gladly accept your offer, though I presume the Ministry has set down some rules regarding the frequency of your visits?"

Lucius's expression immediately darkened. "Indeed. Their exact wording being that I was to choose a single person to visit me once every two weeks."

"Then you can expect my owl next week," said Snape solemnly. "Goodbye, Lucius. It was a pleasure, truly."

He wished he could tell his friend it was much more than that, to confess that the prospect of future visits was as important to him as it was to the Malfoys, but even with that one sentence he had given more insight into his real feelings than he was comfortable with; anything else would have felt downright threatening. Perhaps Lucius would understand the unspoken message, perhaps not, but the truth was that, as he walked back towards the main gate, he was feeling strangely elated, despite the grumpy Ministry wizard by his side. While Xeno and Potter made fine replacements as he was waiting to see Luna again, replacements was all they ever remained. With Lucius, however, it was different. If he had not been unsure where he stood with him, he would have visited him long ago, not because he was lonely, but because he found his company truly enjoyable. He might be infuriating at times, but, not counting Lily, he was also his oldest friend, someone who had walked down the same path as he had. He knew what it had been like to serve the Dark Lord, and, like him, it seemed he had also finally seen the error of his ways. He was easy to have a conversation with, as he loved talking, while Snape preferred to listen. All in all, it was great to know he had not lost his friendship; even thinking about his next visit to Malfoy Manor caused Snape to feel much less lonely than he had in weeks. Perhaps there was still a chance he might make it until Christmas without losing his mind after all.