Before the Dreadful Dinner Party: Ambivalence Ascendant – Part One

Chapter Five: Before the Dreadful Dinner Party: Ambivalence Ascendant – Part One

Having finished his fitting, Severus once again stood in Madam Malkin's parlour foyer, but this time holding a large package containing his folded new robes in the crook of one arm and the bulky packaged peacock eggs in the other. He watched Regulus being fawned and cooed over by Narcissa and Bellatrix, with Rodolphus shoving a glass of champagne in the youngest Black's hand; Regulus was lapping up his cousins' mollycoddling of him. Each compliment stroked and expanded the Quidditch Seeker's ego, putting him in a state of euphoria.

Deciding it was the right moment, a giggling Narcissa coaxed, "You have to tell me what it is!" She was indicating a large, glittering, silver-wrapped object standing on one of the side tables. "You know I'm impatient; you know I can't stand secrets." She made as to gently tickle him on his side.

Half-heartedly dodging her fingers, Regulus feigned protest. "I can't! I can't! You know it's from my mother. She'd be very upset, Cissy." Regulus took a deep gulp of champagne; too fast, going down the wrong pipe, he started choking on the liquid as it burned the inside of his nostrils.

"Don't want to upset Auntie Walburga now, do we, Cissy?" teased Bellatrix. They all started laughing at some inside joke; only Regulus wasn't laughing, but rather trying to clear his throat and breathe normally.

"Oh Severus!" gushed Narcissa, spotting him. She crossed over to him, and calculatingly, but delicately, hooking her arm inside his and nudged him to join the group with her.

At her touch, Severus shifted his weight compliantly to accommodate her gentle guidance. He had long ago realised that Narcissa's charming and selective coquettish demeanour was not for him alone. Still, he was flattered. And grateful. Narcissa had gone out of her way, from Severus' very first day at Hogwarts, to make him feel welcome, comfortable, a part of whichever circle they found themselves in. Unlike others, who dropped their feigned interest in him beyond what he could do for them, Narcissa had remained constant – fickle at times – but consistently fickle; she had never once teased him about his reclusive, bookish behaviour, nor doubted his place within Lucius' esoteric circle, unlike Rodolphus and Bellatrix.

In return, Severus had grown accustomed to her demanding, pouty ways and could tolerate and even forgive her selfish whims, having experienced that they were generally short-lived and harmless, at least, harmless when regarding him – he had no delusions about Narcissa. Severus enjoyed her attention, her whimsical games, knowing that at the end of the day, her place was with, and desires were long ago sealed to be for Lucius.

Steering him slowly over to the others, Narcissa insisted, "Share a toast with us, Severus."

Before he could decline, Bellatrix sniffed animatedly and made a wry face, "What is that smell? You, Severus?"

Severus eyes flickered irritably. He held his tongue, reminding himself of Bellatrix's knack for goading him into insulting banter. She never overlooked any opportunity to belittle him.

Bella took his unresponsive reserve for a private triumph. Elated, she goaded, "Oh, I see – it's a big fat gift from our illustrious, affluent Mr Snape – intended for you, Cissy!" The malicious intent glittered in her eyes. Bella resented Severus' friendship with her sister, even more so than his friendship with Lucius, or the Dark Lord's favour.

"Is it, Severus? Is it for me?" Narcissa asked him softly, looking at the larger of the two packages.

Severus shot a glance at Regulus, who was biting his lip, fidgeting, praying Bella's snottiness wouldn't cause Severus to lash out with the truth.

"I hope not, Cissy. It smells like rot!" jibed Bellatrix.

"Neither are gifts. These are new robes, and this – it's not a gift. It's a ..." Regulus gave him a furtive glance. "This contains ingredients for a special potions project; thus, the aromatic fragrance you're finding so pleasurable, Bellatrix."

"Sulphuric and putrid? Do nasty smells please you? Doesn't take much, does it?" derided Bellatrix.

"Bella, enough!" silenced Narcissa. Disappointed, she looked up into his dark eyes and pouted, "A potions project? Potions? Oh, Severus, put that smelly thing down for a minute."

He tentatively placed both packages down beside Regulus' Borgin and Burkes parcel on the side table.

"Good boy," heckled Bellatrix.

Severus gave her an abrasive look, but went and stood again beside Narcissa.

Rodolphus sat back down, resuming his cold stare at Severus, as Narcissa gave the best sad, puppy-eyed look she could muster and said, "Oh, Severus, please, please promise me something." As she snugly wrapped her arm into his again and pressed her shoulder into his, Severus let out a slight sigh; being put on the spot by Narcissa in front of Rodolphus, Bellatrix and Regulus was the last thing he wanted.

Severus frowned and took an extra second to think; he had to be careful with Narcissa, careful what he promised her. She never asked him for anything unless she was sure to get what she wanted.

"That depends," he responded slowly.

Narcissa laughed, "Oh, Severus, it's nothing terrible – hopefully it'll be pleasurable – as much for you as it'll be for me." She giggled as he raised his eyebrows. "Please, please promise me that tonight you won't bring with you anything even remotely connected with Potions. Slughorn won't be coming, no need to impress anyone. Promise me that you'll try to enjoy yourself; loosen up a bit? I know you're guarded around Lucius, but you have to promise to dance with me."

"That depends," he repeated.

"On what?" asked Narcissa, starting to become truly peeved.

"Only if your fiancé approves."

"See, Bella? You were wrong about him. He's such a good little boy. Considerate. Obedient. Loyal. Lucius is a lucky man," Rodolphus coolly commented.

"Oh, Rodolphus, let him be. This is my night! I won't have you and Bella spoiling it for me with your bickering and bothering others!" demanded Narcissa. However, being considerate of Lucius' approval seemed to please Narcissa very much. Encouraged and undeterred, she smiled even more broadly and pressed harder against Severus' shoulder. "One more teeny little promise?"

"Yes?"

"You'll wear something other than black? Just a hint of colour? Just for me?"

Feeling the butt of some joke, but susceptible to Narcissa's particular blandishment, Severus said dourly, "That depends, as well. I'll see what I can do."

As Narcissa let out a warm heartfelt laugh in response, enjoying the fact Severus found her charms irresistible, a loud crack erupted, and Kreacher, the house-elf to Walburga and Orion Black, appeared in the middle of the parlour.

With a low bow, and his snout-like nose almost touching the floor, Kreacher croaked, "Kreacher begs Master Regulus' forgiveness!"

"Kreacher, in heaven's name, what's the matter?" demanded the youngest Black. His jovial appearance fell instantly, replaced with a fierce look of worry.

"Your mother, Master Regulus, your mother! Kreacher's Mistress is having one of her attacks; she cries and so fearfully calls her son. Master must come at once!"

Upon hearing this, a dark, foul restless mood came upon Regulus in an instant. He threw down the champagne glass and stomped over to the table, roughly grabbing the Borgin and Burkes package. His swift, disturbed movements charged the room with a tense, tumultuous energy.

"Forgive Kreacher, Master Regulus!" begged the little shrivelled-up elf.

"Enough, Kreacher! You've done nothing wrong!" shouted Regulus irritably at him. Kreacher grovelled silently. Instantly changing his tone and slowly walking over to stand beside the small creature, Regulus said quietly, as if to a small child, "It's all right, Kreacher; take me home at once."

"Don't worry, Regulus. The Dark Lord will make a man of you yet, a true wizard. Hysterical Mummy or not," coddled Bella. Rodolphus clapped the embarrassed Regulus on the shoulder and whispered, "Until tonight, Regulus."

"Yes, tonight. Tonight," Regulus repeated softly.

Kreacher had half-turned, bowing to Severus, and croaked, "Mistress Black commands that Kreacher brings home both young Masters."

"Thank you, Kreacher," acknowledged Severus, ignoring the loud snort from Bellatrix at his polite address to the house-elf, "but I can Disapparate by myself later."

"Mistress Black has commanded me. You must come with Kreacher and Master Regulus," explained Kreacher, remaining stoically resolute, his large protruding orbs staring up at Severus.

If nothing else, the highly annoyed and anxious look Regulus gave him caused Severus to give in without further argument. "Very well."

"That's right, be a good little boy, Severus; let the wee little house-elf escort you to the Noble House of Black. You should thank your lucky stars for being so privileged!" erupted Bella.

"Bella! Enough!" exclaimed Narcissa.

Retrieving the packages, Severus joined Regulus, standing on the other side of Kreacher, who reached his scrawny arms up with vice-like grips of steel around the young wizards' elbows, and as he held and tugged both of the young Masters, the three Disapparated together, the air rippling, leaving a troubled Narcissa and smug Rodolphus and Bella behind.

Apparating into the main parlour of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, Regulus and Severus stood facing a hysterical Walburga Black, lying sprawled on a settee, both of her hands fisted in the centre of her breastplate as if clutching an invisible apparition on her chest. A seething Orion Black stood up grimly, giving Regulus a lacerating look.

Seeing her son, Walburga gasped out, "Regulus! Regulus! You were gone so long!" She was choking, gasping for air. Suddenly, she shrieked, "I thought, I thought something had happened to you!"

"Leave us, Severus!" commanded Orion sharply. Discreetly keeping his eyes from witnessing anything further, Severus hurriedly left and made his way up to the next floor to take refuge in the guest room.

Once inside, he quickly put down the packages and removed his cloak and outer jacket, tossing them on the bed. Rolling up his sleeves, he went to the washstand, pouring water into the bowl and splashing his face several times. Wiping his face dry, Severus stared at himself in the mirror above the stand. "What is happening? I don't understand today... I feel so conflicted by..."

Walburga's shrieking and wailing carried up sharply through the house and into the room, followed by the livid shouting and gut-churning screaming between Orion and Regulus, accompanied by what sounded like strong slaps. Severus pulled out his wand and flicked it. The Silencing Charm took immediate effect, but the echoes of the volatile family quarrel still resounded in his ears. Slightly trembling, Severus crossed and threw himself onto the luxurious, plush bed, shoes and all. He allowed himself to stretch out, taking deep expansive breaths. Still edgy, he looked sadly around the spacious bedroom. He could do nothing but wait for Regulus.

God, I want this day to end. I want Monday to come. Now! He took his wand and started whispering softly. Soft green wisps of smoke seeped from its tip. In the air, he spelled out the name: LILY. It relaxed him. He took another deep breath. As the delicate wisps faded away, his thoughts randomly went over the day's events. He turned over on his side and then back again to lie on his back. God, what an awful bloody day. Mindlessly, his wrists slowly conducted another name: NAGINI.

Restlessly, Severus sat up, threw his wand on the bed and strode over to the bureau where the damn peacock eggs he'd been dragging around all day lay, along with his new robes, still bundled up. He looked over at his engagement gifts for Lucius and Narcissa. Made with his own hands. For Lucius, a tiny bottle of Felix Felicis; something money could have bought, but few could make this potion as perfectly as he. For Narcissa, a set of seven miniature bottled oils in a rectangular birchwood box filled with dried white rose petals. A different scent for each day of the week: Evergreen, Lavender, Magnolia, Vanilla, Sandalwood, Beijing Rose, Wisteria.

Who am I fooling? Narcissa will laugh at my efforts; perhaps not to my face, but Bellatrix...

It had taken Severus all of the first term to make them; after his mother's death, he had thrown himself into finishing the concoctions with extra fervour and effort. Please, please promise me that you won't bring with you anything even remotely connected to Potions. The innocent request by Narcissa echoed in his mind.

Will I always be undervalued? Unappreciated? Just to be used for others' conveniences?

In frustration, he hurled the box of scented oils at the wall. At the muffled sound of broken glass, Severus immediately regretted his actions. He moaned to himself and then slowly went over to assess the damage. Only one phial had actually broken: Wisteria, Narcissa's favourite. Grabbing his wand, he pointed and whispered, "Reparo!" He gently placed the phials back in the box and placed it beside Lucius' gift; Severus winced with the sudden pain of futility.

"Legilimens!" The wild cry was accompanied by a loud bang as the bedroom door slammed against the wall. The door shut fiercely behind Regulus as he sprang into the room and lunged at Severus, slashing the air with a non-verbal spell. With cat-like adeptness, Severus jumped and sprang away.

"Expelliarmus!" he cried, whipping Regulus' wand from him, followed immediately with an "Accio!", capturing Regulus' wand swiftly in his other hand.

Severus stood facing an exasperated Regulus, flushed and highly agitated. Regulus' dark, disturbed eyes flashed, and perspiration poured from his forehead. Regulus wiped at it, pushing his long unruly locks out of his face, and started to prowl back and forth along the other side of the room. "I've always told you, with reflexes like yours, you could always challenge me for the Seeker position on the team," reminded Regulus shakily. Then, he added cockily, "Or, if nothing else, a peon Chaser."

Severus took a moment to take in the situation; Regulus' wild-eyed and highly excitable nature was something he was used to, but after being with one or both of his parents, the snooty, pugnacious Black family traits were always unpleasantly accentuated in Regulus.

He watched Regulus strut, pacing around, randomly swiping at invisible objects in the air, before Severus calmly replied, "And I've told you a hundred times: Legilimency requires one to have eye contact, be calm, focused. It's not a Quidditch move, Black."

"Just wanted to catch you off guard, know what you're thinking. Thought a Quidditch move might do the trick."

"Quidditch doesn't interest me," Severus pointed out, trying to curtail any further discussion on the subject, "as much as other things."

"Yeah, I know, I know." Swaggering around, Regulus listed, "Potions, Dark Arts, Mudbloods..."

Severus stood deathly still.

Regulus licked his lips nervously, ran his hand through his hair again, standing in a poised stance with his hands on his hips. Seeing the morose look on Severus' face, he said, "Sorry... thought you'd be over her by now." Tense silence pervaded the room. "I mean, after all the pain and humiliation you've gone through... about her."

"Well, you'd know all about pain and humiliation, wouldn't you?"

Biting the inside of his cheeks, Regulus grimaced, "I said I'm sorry, mate, right?" He started restlessly pacing again. "Now, give me back my wand."

Thoroughly pissed off, Severus said coolly, "No. No, I don't think so. Not yet."

Regulus made to nonverbally jerk his wand from him, but Severus swatted Regulus' attempt away with a quick flit of his hand.

Severus' eyes flashed dangerously as he reprimanded, "You asked me here this weekend to help prepare you for the Dark Lord tonight. We've done precious little of that, in case you haven't noticed!"

"Well," Regulus gave him his best haughty look, "I've changed my mind. I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help! I mean, the Dark Lord asked for me. He wants me. I'll be his youngest servant, younger than you even!"

"Then, if my help's no longer needed, perhaps I should leave."

"Yeah, perhaps you should."

"Fine." He threw Regulus' wand at him and stalked over to the wardrobe beside the bed. Opening it, Severus began to pack his few belongings with quick simple movements into an old leather tote bag.

Behind his back, Severus heard the question, "What will he make me do?" It was Regulus' voice, altered, subdued, with just a tinge of trepidation in its adolescent tone.

Severus stopped his packing, took a deep breath, and sighed. Keeping his back to Regulus and his eyes shut, he whispered, "Anything."

As Severus slowly turned around, he saw Regulus slide down the wall. He sat with his back up against it, knees bent, and taking his wand, he twiddled it between both hands. Momentarily depleted of any aggression. Humbled.

Regulus' looming dread filled the room. Severus said nothing but waited. There was nothing to say.

Naturally restive, Regulus quickly recovered some of his belligerence. Trying to sound light-hearted and forcing bravado into his voice, he spoke out loud, "Yea, well, I'm up for it. Tonight, you know. A bit of hobnobbing, flirting... and then... the Dark Lord. Perfect evening..." He made a puffing sound as if to force a laugh that wouldn't come out. Severus slowly went over and sat down on the floor near him, resting against the wall as well. He knew Regulus needed someone just to listen more than anything else at the moment.

"Besides, everyone'll be there. All of you?"

Severus silently nodded affirmatively.

"If you lot survived it, so will I, right? He did ask for me specifically," continued Regulus, as if to remind himself more than Severus. "Bellatrix'll be there, of course. She's been helping to groom me for the Dark Lord, as well, you know. Cissy won't be... she doubts everything... me... doubts why..." As his voice trailed off, his eyes darkened. Then, with effort, seemingly wanting to change the subject, "And of course, that new Malfoy bird won't be included. Yet, that is."

God, he sounds like his smart-arse, git brother, Sirius, with his colloquial Muggle slang, Severus derisively thought; although, the images of the Muggle girls on motorbikes in Sirius' room that Regulus had shown him when they snuck in last night had been interesting... unusual; yes, from a distance, likewise, Nagini Malfoy is definitely interesting...

Not allowing himself to become distracted further, Severus pointed out, "I doubt anytime soon. The Malfoys have enough to deal with, without her being involved in anything else dubious in nature that the Ministry could get a whiff of. They won't risk it with her anytime soon; although, I suppose it is inevitable."

"It's so odd," stated Regulus matter-of-factly.

"What is odd?"

"Her – Nagini Malfoy. She's unusual, a real oddity."

Severus huffed.

Seeing his impatience piqued, Regulus clarified, "It's just that in some pureblood families, such as the Malfoys or Weasleys – a female is born only once in several generations, and – unlike the Weasleys, who breed like rabbits – the Malfoys barely manage to reproduce even an heir – usually only one child in any given generation. The fact that Abraxas actually ever had a sister – that a second child was born, and that that child was female – is remarkable in and of itself. And that Lucretia Malfoy had a female child – the odds are overwhelming."

Severus controlled himself from making a surly comment about how purebloods always seem to think that their births were on the same level as an immaculate conception. He wanted to say it was just another act of nature in Lucretia's case. Nagini, she was just one more bastard in the world, and that everyone, regardless, came into the world the same way: bloody, filthy and puking. In essence, the Malfoys, as well as the other purebloods, had nothing on anybody else. But, conflicted, Severus admitted to himself that he also believed an opposite aspect of existence to be true as well, Wizards are nature's nobility... and Muggles are stupid, repugnant creatures. It was nature's true plan that Wizards dominate and rule them, putting the primitive beasts finally in their place once and for all. As he shifted his lanky frame in response to his growing discomfort sitting on the hard floor, his feelings about Nagini Malfoy rose up inside him and the awareness that he had a burning curiosity to find out more about her. Perhaps tonight I can... oh, blast it! What is wrong with me?

Stating the obvious, Regulus intimated, "Poor bird. They don't seem to be too happy about her being here, what with the murder verdict, the Ministry breathing down their necks now more than usual. Told my parents why we were late, that we'd run into the Malfoys and all; heard her mother was mental – that's what my parents say."

"They said that, just now?" asked Severus incredulously.

Regulus winced, remembering his father smacking him in the head for using meeting Nagini Malfoy as an excuse for why he was late, triggering his mother to have one of her fits. "Well, not those exact words, but that's what they meant." Seeing Severus' askance look at him, he impatiently pointed out, "She can't be too different from her mother, can she? Shame. Bet when Abraxas hasn't knocked her around, mental or not, she's quite a dish." Regulus bit his lower lip and then jumped up.

Standing up as well, Severus was momentarily speechless at Regulus' blunt comment. He'd expect it from Sirius Black, but not from Regulus. But then, Severus had noticed a disturbing change in Regulus ever since they arrived at Grimmauld Place. He had first thought it was primarily due to the damper, depressing atmosphere of the house, but quickly realised that anytime Regulus was around either parent, he became unstable, changeable, hyperactively dutiful, cringingly obliging to every utterance of either parent, as if he couldn't move or speak fast enough when addressed by either of them.

"It doesn't bother you?" asked Severus.

Regulus had begun pacing around the room, levitating a dead Snitch he'd pulled out of his pocket.

"What?"

"You saw her. She'd been struck. More than once."

"What do you take me for? Yeah, it bothers me!" Regulus' face was vehement. He spat out, "But she must have done something to have made Abraxas do it!" More to himself than to Severus, he said loudly, "She'll learn. She'll adapt. Like we all do." Regulus' eyes locked onto Severus', and he said, "It makes one stronger. Right? What's a little physical pain? If she's anything like Lucius, she'll adapt in no time."

Severus made no comment, but instead pulled out is wand. "Shall we?"

Regulus stopped in his tracks, sniffed, took a deep breath and tucked his loose bangs behind his ears. He then centred himself. Still and quiet. Focused. Poised. Ready to duel.

As Severus and Regulus gazed at each other, the same realisation and thoughts ran through their minds: in the end, regardless of who else would be there tonight, 'it' – Regulus' initiation as a Death Eater – would be between just Regulus and Voldemort. Dark intimacy. Solely and secretively. Regulus' moment of truth alone; his private unique experience with the greatest known Dark Lord of all time. The Deliverer to Wizardkind. There was truly no way for one to prepare oneself, other than to open up and be willing to give oneself to Voldemort, completely and utterly.

Knowing this, Regulus still couldn't help ask, "What will I have to do?"

Again, Severus could only answer, "Anything."

The Seeker's troubled eyes were not appeased. Severus elaborated quietly, "Anything he wants you to... or have done to you."

Regulus blinked hard. Then, Severus said what Regulus wanted to hear, "The pain will be excruciating. Indescribable."

Centring themselves, breathing deeply and steadily, they both masked their faces with apathy. Minds were clear. Empty.

Severus asked quietly, "Ready?"

Regulus shifted his weight slightly, prepared himself in a final motion, and then nodded silently, ready for Severus' oncoming attack.

*******************************************************

Nagini and Lucius Apparated to in front of the path lined with hedgerows of the Malfoy Manor lawn with a muffled pop. Within seconds, Nagini had recovered from her previous shock and shoved herself away from Lucius. He looked surprised and wary at her and had drawn his wand, expecting her to lunge at him at any second.

She caught her breath and asked, "You don't believe them?"

"Believe who?"

"The Wizengamot – the verdict! That I'm innocent?"

Lucius took a moment and composed himself. He then gave a wry forced smile. "Innocent? You?" And without saying another word, he turned towards the manor and casually flicking his wand, dispelling the protective ward. Barely looking at her, he asked sarcastically, "Shall we?" He stepped into an invisible border, indicating that Nagini should do the same. Surprisingly, she complied; at which, Lucius turned back towards the boundaries of the Malfoy Manor grounds and recast the barrier. Without further attention to Nagini, he headed towards the front door.

Nagini, however, had stopped, overcome with frustration and anger. A deep longing mixed with the most profound ache ebbed inside of her; she blurted out, "When I first heard about you, that you even existed – when your father told me about you – I thought, I thought..."

Lucius stopped in his tracks, turned around, and looked at her, sardonically amused and curious, and waited for her to continue.

Nagini had stopped; she was clearly struggling with herself – whether to go on or not. She was trying to suppress her trembling, while deciding if she could control herself enough not to say anything more – for she had sworn to herself in the vault that she would never ever cry or show any more signs of weakness in front of Abraxas and Lucius. She felt it was futile to share or reveal anything about her intimate feelings or past life. She wouldn't give them the chance or satisfaction of seeing her spirit vulnerable, susceptible to their cruelty, or that they could affect her in any emotional way. She wouldn't give them that pleasure.

But as she looked up at Lucius, she was surprised and unnerved by the change of expression on his face – a look of sincere curiosity and, could it be, concern?

"I'm waiting. Go on."

His neutral tone gave her the impetus to risk saying, "My whole life I've longed for... when I heard you existed, actually existed – a close blood kin, near my own age... I was so very happy at the thought of you, the possibility that we ..."

Lucius grimaced, and Nagini froze.

She looked away from him, embarrassed and abashed; unable to bear any more rejection or scorn.

The seconds ticked by in silence. Feeling defeated, Nagini disheartedly looked up at him again, ready to stoically follow Lucius and trudge on to the manor's main entrance.

But she met no derisive look from Lucius. Instead, an odd, soft contemplative expression gazed forth at her. The two young Malfoys silently stood, gazing at each other as if truly seeing each other for the first time. A moment of crystal-pure honesty.

From a lifetime of duelling, Lucius knew when an opponent's energy was exhausted, on the edge; all that was left was pure nerves, adrenaline, emotion. And as he observed Nagini, a melting sensation ebbed inside of his hard suspicious façade; the slightest crack occurred. While he had watched Nagini struggle with herself to continue confessing something – something intimate, making her so vulnerable to him – mixed emotions surfaced and the fleeting thought of "Perhaps she's not such a threat, perhaps..." He stopped. While seeing his cousin Nagini, as if for the first time, her insolent bearing, her defences down, Lucius saw something beyond. Something more. Something familial. A kindred empathy. Painful and raw. Disappointment and loss. In that split second, the realization that he didn't want her spirited nature to be diminished, to be broken; but, on the contrary, he deep down admired it, understood it. A dawning, a soft brush of warmth in his chest caused him to let out a long sigh.

Nagini impulsively responded, "I imagined... I imagined we..." but then her voice broke off; she couldn't continue.

Lucius took a small step towards her. "You shouldn't believe what you imagine; you'll always be disappointed." The grey eyes had an uncharacteristic gentleness in them, which snapped Nagini's reserve.

Her eyes pooled, and a single tear rolled softly down her cheek.

The accumulation of the day's events – who was she fooling? The past week's, the past month's events – culminating with today, Abraxas' treatment, Lucius' former coldness – were taking their toll on her usually disciplined, stalwart, protective hard surface. Her impenetrableness. She didn't want this – this uncontrollable vulnerability in front of Lucius, of all people. She couldn't trust his sudden amiability to her. It confused and disorientated her. It was true; she had just wanted him to listen to her, to not be so blindly hostile – to give her a chance. A chance to prove she wasn't some parasitical, murdering, uncontrollable harpy, or whatever was going on in his mind. To stop disconcerting her and give them both a chance to understand one another. She had so many questions about the family in general, his life specifically, Hogwarts, that she wanted to ask, and she would love to feel comfortable enough to share with him the same, but was too upset and embarrassed to express it clearly.

Unprecedently, Lucius had the awkward instinct to reach out to her, to comfort her. As he looked at her, he also reflected on their first meeting here at Malfoy Manor when Abraxas had finally brought her home from the Ministry. She had struck him as proud, aloof, unnaturally reserved. What a Malfoy should be. Unwontedly, he had not wished to admit it, a kin. Upon seeing the dispirited witch now in front of him, her face marred by a hand that he himself had all too many times experienced, his tense body relaxed. Lucius saw raw emotion in her features, of the sort never before witnessed; experienced – yes – a very long time ago, and then, never again. It simply was not allowed. He had learned that lesson well. He stepped towards her and, before he knew what he was doing, he reached out and gently brushed away the solitary tear upon her cheek.

At his touch, Nagini broke down. "I thought you'd be different!" she softly sobbed out.

Taking a moment to register the almost dizzying awareness of the moment, Lucius pondered what she meant, for he had only been and cared to be this intimately direct with Narcissa, and of course, by necessity or force, the Dark Lord.

"Different from what?" he asked quietly.

The words spilled forth, whispered fiercely, "Different from your father!"

As Nagini and Lucius gazed at each other, a soft, hissing crack abruptly erupted. Abraxas Malfoy stood four feet away from them.

No one spoke. Nagini and Lucius both watched Abraxas and waited.

At last, Abraxas, his scathing look searing through both of them, asked, "What are you two doing out here?"

After a few seconds, Lucius found his voice. "We've returned from Madam Malkin's, Father. We've just now Apparated home – just a few seconds before you, in fact."

Abraxas sneered sardonically. "Really? It looks to me as if I have interrupted something, something which most assuredly began longer than a few seconds ago." Giving them both an odd leer, he said pointedly, "What, Lucius? I've left you alone with her for barely an hour, and she already has you lying to me? How weak you are."

It might as well have been a slap to the face. Lucius was speechless; his face flushed flaming red. Nagini had turned a pale ash colour, trying to breathe normally, her heart beating fast, waiting for Abraxas to vent his displeasure further.

But, to both of their surprise, Abraxas swiftly turned his back to them and strode up to the main doors. Only turning to call out, "Well? Don't dawdle, you two. Come inside, prepare yourselves for this evening!"

As they all entered the grand entrance hall of Malfoy Manor, the bulbous-eyed house-elf Dobby timidly waited for their orders.

Abraxas, looking hard at the little creature, instructed, "Take Mistress Nagini to her chamber. I've already gone over with you beforehand what you are allowed and not allowed to do for her. See that she has all the toiletries and other needs for preparing for this evening. Any out of the ordinary requests, come to me and tell me immediately. Some gowns will be arriving for her. Take them to her when they arrive. In the meantime, check on Master Lucius' needs, and when finished with him, come to me."

"Yes, Master Malfoy," came Dobby's servile reply. Then the little elf bowed and said, "This way, Mistress Nagini." Dobby indicated towards the broad, curved black-marbled stairway.

Taking off his gloves and not bothering to look at Lucius, Abraxas informed him, "Lucius, after you've rested and finished your preparations, before the guests arrive, come to my private drawing chamber. I wish to have a little talk with you."

"Yes, Father."

Still, but trepid, Lucius watched as Abraxas walked away from him down the long, elegant hall without so much as a glance back or further attention to him. It wasn't a good sign.

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Author's note: Deepest thanks to my grammar beta Sempra, her guidance and 'meddling' extraordinaire, keeping me in line, on my toes, and my founding Snapette, and beta Agnus Castus - for so many things, besides the final touches, my deepest gratitude.