Chapter Twenty-Eight

'Well, well, well,' Lucius said eventually, when it seemed that the rest of us were bereft of anything sensible to say.

'I wonder why he came here,' Black mused. 'Surely he could have expected a hostile reception at best.'

It was much what I was thinking, and yet I didn't feel I mistrusted Henry Potter perhaps as much as I failed to understand his motives. Certainly, he could not have cobbled up the story of Valerius at short notice; he would not have known whether Lucius would refute his story with known facts of his own, so that had to be believed.

'I need to think,' I said, rising from the table, hoping no one would follow me.

'I don't even know why you're still sitting here,' Lucius remarked. 'I am quite sure Black and I can manage to entertain the ladies without your input ... the loss of your sparkling repartee notwithstanding.' He gave me a tight smile. "Perhaps it's best if you do not do any nocturnal entertaining, Severus. You seem to have quite enough to think about." His remark popped into my mind as I turned away, but I knew he was concerned, despite his levity; I knew he was worried about the fact that I had barely looked at Lucretia, and, in fact, was almost on my way out of the door before I even remembered to bid the ladies goodnight.

*****

I had written the letter four times before I satisfied myself, and called Ethel. She sat in her own little chair, making a great fuss of arranging her skirts so that they were just so, and I felt overwhelmed with affection for her, and realised how much I missed the times when it had just been her and me at Spinner's End. I missed sitting and drinking whisky, and reading without a care of the time or day, whilst she busied herself in her garden, occasionally popping out of her picture to make tea, or bring me some little treat or other.

'You can't go back, dear,' she said, patting my hand. 'Perhaps one day, but for now we make the best of what we have brought here.'

'Ethel ...' I didn't go on; I didn't know how to say what lay on my chest like gossamer shrouded in lead.

'I shall speak to her, Severus,' she said, understanding everything there was to understand about me. 'But will marrying her be such a sacrifice, Severus dear?' she asked. 'As long as she understands that your love is spoken for. There is a great deal to be said for friendship, and fondness too, dear. After all, is that not what we share?'

'Oh, no, I truly love you, Ethel ... but I know what you mean,' I said, as she held her head to the side, like a coquette, so her snowy-white fluff of hair bounced around her head like a private cloud, and I laughed in the way that only she could make me laugh. 'I shall ask her to be my wife then,' I said.

'Try to be a bit more enthusiastic, dear,' she murmured. 'Now let me see this letter you have written to the Dark One.'

"My dear Tom," she read aloud. "I am writing to you from where I have now settled into Malfoy Manor. I think you will be pleased with the arrangement: one that allows me my own privacy to deal with our private business, and yet keep an eye on Lucius and Black, and whatever callers there are to the manor. I have two reasons for putting quill to parchment though, Tom, and the first is one about which I am very concerned. I have not heard from you since I wrote to you last, on the day I came here, and I suspect that you are angry with me. Please don't feel snubbed ..."

'No, no, no,' Ethel said, breaking off reading from the scroll. 'That is far too submissive, Severus. It won't do at all.'

'Just tell him you're here, and he can call and look over the arrangements, but you'd prefer if he didn't ... And say you hope he's been put out by your move,' Black said from the doorway. 'He's going to come running anyway, isn't he?'

'What are you doing here?' I snapped. 'I thought I made it clear I needed some peace.'

'No, you make nothing clear actually, Severus,' he replied, sitting down on one of my settees and sticking a cigarette into his mouth, belatedly offering me the pack in the hope I wouldn't tell him not to dare light up. I snatched one from his pack, hoping he wouldn't read that as a sign that I was actually glad of his presence, something I had no intentions of even admitting to myself.

'What's Lucius up to?' I asked.

'Worrying.'

'About what?'

'You, I suppose, or more precisely you and Lucretia. He thinks you're going to back out of marrying her,' Black replied, sitting back and making himself more comfortable than I felt. 'You don't want to marry her, do you?'

'Since when did what I want matter to anyone?' I snarled. 'But he's wrong, I shall do ...' I broke off as I felt Ethel watching me. 'Damnit, I need to make her understand ...'

'I don't think you've made any attempt to make her understand, Severus. Fuck sake, have you even spoken to the woman?' Black demanded.

'Not really, not in the way you mean,' I admitted, thinking of the one serious talk we had had, and how I had failed to make my own position as clear as I might have.

'Well, don't treat her like the idiot she clearly isn't.'

He was right; everyone was right it seemed, except for me.

*****

Lucretia didn't call to my room that night, something that puzzled me as much as it relieved me. It did make me resolve to speak to her the next day, and I only waited until we had all breakfasted, something that took the better part of the morning in Malfoy Manor.

I looked at Ethel's picture as I sat at my desk, but she had had the good grace to make herself scarce; that only made me wonder where else she was hiding eavesdropping instead. I didn't spare it any more thought; a light knock had sounded on the door and I watched it open.

Lucretia sat on one of my settees and held up her hand. 'Let me speak first, Severus,' she said. 'I think I owe you that much.'

'No, no,' I said; I had no intentions of letting her ride roughshod over me with Lucius's grand ideas, and having me agree to anything I didn't really agree to, just for the sake of propriety. 'I have asked to see you, Lucretia, and I would like to speak first.' I paused only for a moment, to give her the best I could do with a tight smile, which I doubt was very impressive. 'We have not talked properly at all, Lucretia, and that is my fault. I should have made time to sit alone with you and discus this ... joint future ... we are about to embark upon.' I stopped myself; I sounded as though I was discussing some kind of formal business arrangement, and although that was to a degree true, I knew I had to do better.

She was watching me; there was nothing wary about her though, and that made me suspect that she had not the fears her brother had about me backing out of the position I had been coerced into. I understood something else about Lucretia Malfoy then, something I confess I should have recognised earlier, something that was not her fault. She had really no idea of relationships, be they friendship, or love affairs, or any other sort of romantic or social associations. Of course, how could she have? She had been locked away in a series of underground rooms for her whole life, with nothing but a few house-elves and some drunken opportunists for company. What could one such as she have learnt about how to deal with the normality of day to day life?

I felt an unaccustomed smile tug at the corner of my mouth, and went to sit beside her; she really was rather fetching, after all: a delicious confection of lace and velvet and silvery-blonde hair and porcelain skin.

'I would like to marry you, Lucretia,' I said, almost smiling again at her startled look. 'And if you permit me, I shall ask your brother for your hand in marriage this afternoon.' I had to hurry on, before she decided deliberately or otherwise that she didn't need to hear any more. 'That said, I have to make you understand some things ... about me and about you.'

'I've been unfair,' she stammered out, and I didn't think she was feigning whatever chagrin she was showing. 'I ... I shouldn't have come to your room ... I didn't mean you to feel trapped the way you do. I didn't intend that.'

'Hush,' I said, putting a finger to her lips. 'I am, after all, big enough not to be trapped by a little slip of a thing like you, am I not? Now, listen to me carefully, Lucretia, because I would not care to hurt you at any time in the future...'

'I meant what I said ... about Andromeda,' she said quickly, cutting me off.

'I know you did,' I said, pushing aside the thoughts I could no longer afford. 'And it is about Andromeda that I have to make you understand.'

'But, Severus,' she said breathlessly, 'you must listen to me too. Narcissa wants Andromeda to be her maid of honour. She is very fond of her sister ... and Lucius is considering marrying very soon.'

'I shall handle that when the time comes,' I said. 'But can you handle knowing that the man you marry may care deeply for you, be a true and faithful friend, and even your closest confidant ... and yet know in his heart of hearts that he loves another he cannot have?'

Her look was firm and determined, and I could see she did indeed understand, perhaps more than I gave her credit for; although Lucretia Malfoy was unskilled in social interaction, she was no man's fool. 'Yes, Severus, I can handle that,' she declared, 'but I am concerned that perhaps you cannot.'

'Is it good enough for you if I swear to try?' I asked, and I tried to fool myself that I asked the question of her, and not of myself.

'It is good enough,' she replied, and at last let a radiantly happy smile cross her lovely face, one that reminded me once again that I could have done a lot worse.

I took her small white hand and in mine and raised it to my lips. 'Will you marry me, Lucretia?' I asked, without the rest of the conditions I had set down at the start of the conversation.

She gave me a very roguish smile. 'I shall think about it,' she said, blushed prettily, and left the room, leaving me quite speechless, and wondering at the duplicity of women.

*****

Lucius, Black and I had spent a while the next day with Lucretia, going through old photographs from Abraxas's personal collection, and from back issues of the "Daily Prophet", in an attempt to properly identify the men who had used her. Interestingly, she did not identify Tom Riddle, and I suppose when I thought about that, I wasn't surprised. I tended to agree with Black, too, when he suggested that that might be something we could use in the future, although I couldn't really see how that could be.

I was glad of the time I was finally getting to think clearly. So many different things had been piling up that I had felt swamped by unanswered questions and ill-thought-out moves. And yet, once I was able to think things through, I believed we were making some sort of headway, even if it was only being settled in the manor, and to a degree at least, having trust in one another. I was already beginning to understand that it would be difficult to keep Lucius in the dark for much longer about Aqua Vitae though; however dull his curiosity was, it was going to become piqued eventually. Black agreed, and also suggested that the girls begin to take the potion we all took by then, the one that would act as a buffer to Veritaserum if it were ever used on us.

I also had what I thought was a solid base on which to begin my false quest for Aqua Vitae then, one that I hoped would convince Riddle that I had been working on his behalf in any spare time I had had, not that there had been much of that. I lifted "Die Letztendliche Wahrheit?" where it had fallen open, and fingered the little book, reminding myself that it was a fake, a ruse conjured up by Ethel and Dumbledore to get me out of a tight spot. I smiled to myself as I thought through the plan I had discussed with both Black and Ethel, the one at which they had drawn uneasy looks with one another as I went through it, and finally, but very grudgingly, admitted that it might work.

*****

The timing wasn't good; I hadn't allowed for that when I'd opened the window and sent Lucius's eagle owl on its way to find Riddle, and it was only as it circled once in the late afternoon sky that it struck me that Black would be away from the manor that night. I certainly couldn't go with him to the Shrieking Shack that night, not that there was any necessity.

Lucius had taken Narcissa to Nicolas and Perenelle's, to see Andromeda, and I hadn't failed to notice that although Lucretia had gone with them, I hadn't been invited. Perhaps that was for the best; it had left me the time I had needed alone with Black and Ethel. That aside, they would be back from Brighton soon, and I could not leave Lucretia and Narcissa alone with just Lucius in the manor, in case Riddle called straight away.

I was just stirring another batch of the buffer potion in my workroom, on the old stove of my mother's that Ethel had brought for me from Spinner's End, when Black came in, unannounced, as was his habit.

'You're remembering I'm going to see Lupin?' he asked.

I nodded.

'When are you sending the owl to Riddle?' he asked, wrinkling his nose at the acrid fumes emitting from the pewter cauldron.

'It's just gone.'

'Why didn't you wait until tomorrow?'

'I forgot about the moon,' I confessed. 'It's late now anyway, he won't call tonight,' I said with a confidence I wasn't entirely sure of.

'I'll wait here until Lucius comes back,' Sirius said, slumping down in one of my settees.

'I have plenty to do here, Black, without you hanging around under my feet, and fouling the air with those damn things,' I muttered, as he lit up one of his cigarettes.

He gave me a doubtful look that didn't fool me one bit; I knew he wanted to see Lupin, and although I was slightly concerned that he would not be at the manor, I didn't want him to feel obliged to stay with me either.

'Go away, Black,' I said, picking up "Die Letztendliche Wahrheit?", and noticing it fell open at the page it always seemed to fall open at. 'You're ruining my concentration.'

He gave one almost reluctant look to the window. The evening was falling fast, as evenings do when winter's almost there. It looked damp and bleak, and downright unfriendly, and I felt just a little smug that I was the only one of us, Ethel apart, who had not been foolhardy enough to either leave the manor, or be on the point of doing so.

'Go, Black,' I urged him. 'Lucius will be back soon, though what possible help he would be in any type of emergency leaves a fair bit of room for speculation ... and not much else.' I unscrewed the gold cap on the Glenfiddich and poured a killer measure, one I was rather looking forward to.

*****

I don't know whether I fell asleep, or whether I was just so deep in thought that I didn't notice that the evening had slipped away so quickly, but the next thing I realised was that it was pitch black outside, and Lucius had not returned. I hauled myself to my feet, deciding to raise the wards on the manor and let him slice through them when he came home, but as I did so I felt my heart drop, as the gong in the hallway announced a visitor.

I waited in my living room, straining my ears to hear the sound of Lucius's voice, or that of Narcissa and Lucretia; I don't know why I bothered, not when I had already felt the malice of Riddle's presence, the way it invaded the very atmosphere.

He was preceded by one of Lucius's elves, a frightened looking creature that backed away as he swept into the room, leaving the four men who accompanied him in the hallway.

'Well, well, well, Severus,' Riddle said, closing the door and flinging his travelling cloak onto one of my settees, before sitting on the other. 'The mountain has had to come to Mohammed, after all.'

'I did not know where you were,' I replied as coolly as I dared. 'You said you were leaving the Blacks.'

'Do not seek to score points off me, Severus,' he said, letting a dangerous smile cross his features. He looked around the room we were in, and I could see he was resisting commenting on the fact that it was the same room he had visited in Spinner's End. 'Why, I find myself wondering, have you come here, when I was unable to persuade you to stay here not so very long ago?'

'Things change,' I replied. I unscrewed the cap of the whisky bottle, and nodded in invitation to a glass. He ignored that, but I poured one for him anyway, and laid it on the table beside him. Then I played my best card, instead of keeping it for later, just in case I didn't get the chance to use it. 'I felt isolated ... let down, Tom,' I said, feigning the reproach I had practiced with Black. 'I almost had a noose around my neck.'

He stood up quickly; concern, most likely false, lined his features. 'My Severus,' he said, crossing to where I had sat back down at my desk, and bestowing his two kisses on my cheeks. 'I came the moment I heard. How could you think that your Tom would not save you? How could you think I would not come running?'

Truth be told, where I had loathed his manic utterances before, they relieved me in part then. 'There were other reasons that we came back here,' I said. 'Things that you know nothing about. I needed protection, but I wasn't the only one. There is one you know nothing about, one who has been the victim of those who sought to frame me.'

'Are you telling me you didn't kill Abraxas?' he asked, and I could see the question was genuine, and I admit it hadn't occurred to me, even after Potter's revelations, that anyone actually believed I had done so.

'No, I didn't. I waited for you that night,' I lied, 'but you never came back. And I left here for Spinner's End.'

'And just who is this other who is worthy of your protection, when you do not see fit to live under mine?'

I played my second best card, and told him about how we had found Lucretia Malfoy, changing the date to after he had left the country, and how I had been arrested just after that, and had not had the opportunity to even send him an owl. He listened carefully, and I could almost see his delight in having so hefty an ace up his own sleeve for playing against the Blacks at some time in the future, and I foolishly thought it was going quite well. He even seemed to accept that Lucretia would be a suitable bride for me, after I presented that to him in a way that made it look as though I were complying with his once stated request that I marry.

I had just told him that we had spoken to Lucius's mother's portrait, and what we had unravelled of Lucius and Lucretia's real parents, and it was all news to him, and I truly believed I was strengthening my position at the manor, building a solid reason for staying right there.

'This all fits rather well, Severus,' he said. 'I had wondered how to go about sidelining the Blacks, without alienating them, in favour of someone else ... in a certain position of power that they seemed to have taken for granted as theirs by right.' He smiled again. 'Now, not only have you presented me with a perfect candidate, but a perfect way of us keeping the Blacks, and their little circle, in line ... without having to concern myself about any sensibilities they clearly do not have anyway.' He shook his head in disgust. 'To treat a pure-blooded aristocrat in such way ... It beggars belief,' he said, obviously failing to remind himself that he had treated her brother, and me for that matter, not that my blood was any purer than his own, to much the same physical abuse.

I didn't ask him what he meant by a candidate for a position of power, instead turning to how I thought I had a thread to begin unravelling in "Die Letztendliche Wahrheit?", when one of Lucius's elves tapped on the door, and brought in a scroll.

'From the master,' it said, and I froze, as Riddle held out his hand, and the terrified elf handed him the scroll meant for me.

"Dear Severus," he read aloud.

"We have decided to stay the night here, and shall return first thing in the morning.

Lucius."

My hand was in my trouser pocket, fumbling for the white stone I knew was in my frock coat pocket, upstairs in my bedroom, where I had left it that morning. The next thing I knew was that I was lying on the floor, writhing in agony I cannot even begin to describe, except that it was red.

'Where is she?' Riddle hissed down at me, pointing his long white index finger at me, his face contorted in rage. 'You will tell me, Severus, or you will die.'

'I don't know,' I gasped, as my vision starred, and I felt the pain-induced nausea rise up inside me as I tried to find a way out, even knowing there was none.

'CRUCIO,' he screamed at me, and the red agony turned to a merciful black.

*****