Confluence

Author's Notes: I decided to use the word lists from previous weeks, and I have submitted three drabbles in this chapter. I hope that this helps to answer a few questions and that it pushes the plot forwards. Word lists and the date they were submitted appear after each chapter. I hope you enjoy!

Lucius waited until the door clicked shut behind him before allowing his spine to bend under the weight of his woes. Wiping a trembling hand over his mouth, he peered into the gloom of a place lurking in the shadow of a salubrious haven and wondered if he had the strength to sit and stare at his friend's motionless body. No longer did he hiss urgent pleas into those ears or grip those wasted arms in desperation to elicit some response, and no longer did he inveigle upon the seemingly lifeless frame...doing so had hurt.

The recurrent abulia seized him; a mental languor, drifting over his mind like some thieving miasma, but to his regret, it never stayed long enough...in that instance, the Firewhiskey helped...and it would all come crashing down upon his quaking back.

The sound of the door opening caught his attention, and his mind gathered itself together like a cobra rising up, readying to attack. Stepping to the side and turning on his heel, his hooded gaze latched upon a bent and elderly man grinning up at him with a familiarity that rankled.

"Don't look like that, Mr Malfoy," he said in response to the cold glare. "I have no plan to gloat or roister. Indeed, I come to offer you some hope with regards to Severus Snape."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Lucius spat out, his lips curling back in a sneer at the sight of the withered wizard. The old man still grinned, and something fluttered deep inside, stirring his guts...could this man hold some clue to Snape's cure?

~X~

At first, he thought to refuse, but the amber liquid looked so tempting, and the shrewd but gentle gleam in the old man's hazel eyes made his protests redundant. He needed the drink, and the old man knew it. The burn was delicious as it slid down his throat, and a subtle smokiness played on his tongue before a hint of juniper signalled the end. He eyed the old man who merely smiled, and Lucius pondered who he was that he would have such high-quality liquor in a small broom cupboard to be sipped as freely as any three Knut rubbish sold in the cheap drinking houses.

"It's an interesting idea," he said by way of dimming his own curiosity about the orderly, "and I suspect that the Granger girl has the wit to carry it out." He recalled how she had stood up against them in his home...previous home now that the Ministry had punished him as best they could...and that flicker of admiration that had warred with his prejudice now fluttered freely. "In fact, seeing that she has bested the best of us, I fail to see how she needs any assistance at all." He took another sip, relishing the texture and quality of it, even as he fought the urge to gulp it down. "Excellent Firewhiskey!" he said while saluting a fellow connoisseur.

"There are those who would see her fail," Meadowes answered softly. "Thank you," he said with a gentle tilt of the head. "Sometimes it helps after a long day."

Malfoy waited until his mouth fairly burnt from the whiskey before swallowing to respond. "Severus acquired many enemies...he had the knack...and I'm sure that there are still those who objurgate the Ministry's refusal to uphold the charges levied against him." A bout of melancholy gripped him, and he drained the tumbler, holding the lip against his until the last drop seeped into his mouth. Sighing, he placed the empty glass on the rough table. "I fail to see how I can be of assistance; the pin money granted to me by the beneficent Ministry barely pays the debtors, and as for influence..." he let out a bitter laugh, "I am more influenced these days."

Meadowes eased back, and his grin was almost predatory. "You have more influence than you think, Mr Malfoy."

Something in the man's tone made him shiver, and Lucius turned his focus from musing to the enigmatic orderly; his sudden vulnerability made him wary, as though he had fallen for some deception and let slip more than was wise, but his state of affairs was publicly known...there was nothing left of the Malfoy name that they could pick at.

"You still have influence with those who wish to forget their past allegiances."

Lucius relaxed and slumped slightly in the rickety, wooden chair. "For a moment, I wondered if I had stumbled across a viper, but you are not that subtle to make an effective strike against me. I have no wish to associate with them, and the lure of recapturing some past power will not entice me. I still feel incapable of aiding yourself and Miss Granger."

The old man chuckled, a deep and hearty chortle. "I am a lowly badger, I confess, but I have learnt that consistent hard work can work just as well as Slytherin stealth...oh! I see you smile, sir. I can see that my way may lack a certain flair, but I sit here, drinking for pleasure and not through need, and my nights are sleep-filled."

"Well played," Lucius replied resignedly. "I still fail to see what use I could be."

~X~

Legs and lungs burning, he struggled to keep his pace; his anger had been exhausted hours before, and only stubbornness and the howling wind kept him stumbling forwards. This land was frustrating and terrifying. In the hours that he had been conscious, the sky had not changed and the light not dimmed. There was no evidence to indicate that the day would ever end. As that thought gained momentum through his mind, it stirred up strange and bewildering theories. Was this a form of Purgatory? Had he died on the floor of the Shrieking Shack? Was this his afterlife?

April 19th

objurgate

miasma

pin money

roister

abulia

salubrious

inveigle

oooXooo

Pain lanced out from his knees, and he cried out as throbbing waves followed that initial agonising surge. Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, Snape fell to the side to ease the pressure of his battered knees against the gravel lurking beneath the furze. The despair that had robbed him of his faculties was threatening to return. The futility of it all was awesome.

The pain dimmed to a sting, and he lumbered to his feet; for now, his only source of strength lay in the notion of moving, of seeking something in this lonely place. Dwelling upon this as some cruel afterlife had occupied much of his time, and he had even smirked at the irony of it...how often had he prayed to be left alone? But now, it pressed down upon him, and he could not stifle the unpleasant churning in his stomach or the poisonous ramblings falling from his chapped lips.

"I was under the impression that Death was the great soother," he shouted into the wind. "Is nothing what it claims to be? Is nothing honest? It was all supposed to end, damn you!"

In the emptiness, all he could do was lambaste the prickly furze, and with that uncaring, ubiquitous gorse grabbing at his legs, the wind tugging at him and his mind tormenting him, he continued on his way to anywhere.

~X~

"It's hideous!"

Lucius slammed the small window shut and backed away from the heavy, wooden door. It had taken a few moments for his mind to process what he saw, and no chimera could have equalled her! It was grotesque!

The old man stepped forward and gripped his elbow. "I cannot lionise the use of Occlumency enough!" he hissed into Lucius' ear, and with that warning, he led the stunned wizard back to his makeshift office.

This time, there was no hesitation in accepting the offered drink as his mind battled with the ramifications of her condition...trapped within her own putrefying corpse.

"How is it possible?" Lucius asked in wonder.

"I have no idea, but I want it destroyed," Meadowes said matter-of-factly while sipping his own drink.

Lucius could not argue, and he saw the deal that they would strike in this office: the life of one Death Eater for the death of another. Snape would be cured so that he could administer the final severing of soul from flesh, and he would help...Merlin! To be rid of that thing, he would help!

"I know that she's aware of things that she shouldn't be, and that makes me think that she's getting into people's heads. She spoke about the book and that Miss Granger had been delayed before I mentioned it. I suspect that when Minerva came to visit Snape, somehow she was able to take the information from her head."

Lucius choked on his drink. "Bellatrix can talk?"

Meadowes nodded and Lucius gagged; the whiskey burned as it tried to leave his stomach, and his resolve intensified.

"Bella was... is a formidable Legilimens," he finally confirmed in a strangled whisper. The glass paused on its way to his lips as he thought about the man's words and warnings, and he looked upon the old man sitting sanguinely on the stool. "Another condition to Severus' healing?" he asked wryly. "I teach Granger Occlumency."

Meadowes saluted Lucius and grinned. "I'll inform Miss Granger of our plan to cure Snape."

~X~

"Eh, Harry?"

Harry yawned and looked up from his scrawled notes. "What's up, Ron?"

Ron's freckled face screwed up, and his gaze darted nervously to the far corner of the Common Room. Harry knew that in that quiet corner sat Hermione. The patience that Ron had displayed, in part due to his own unease with the hours that he had to dedicate elsewhere, was crumbling as the distance between them grew, and if first-years were gossiping about a split in the 'Golden Trio', then it was not farfetched to consider that a break-up was looming. The nervousness that was eating at Ron took a nibble at Harry...he recalled how terrible it had been when Ron had dated Lavender.

"Do you think that Hermione's overdoing it?"

Harry blinked and mentally rearranged the question into the one that Ron had meant to ask...do you think that Hermione is going to dump me?...and how could he answer! Sighing, he closed his textbook and rubbed his smarting eyes. If he was honest, then he would admit that he was concerned about the epigone of the Hermione that they had known, but he knew that no one had come out of the last year unscathed. Hogwarts was no longer the winsome sanctuary that it had once been.

"I don't think so, Ron. I think that she's just dealing with it all in the best way she can: she has solving puzzles, and we have Quidditch."

Ron gave up any pretence of attempting his homework and raked his fingers through his hair. "I should cut back on practice," he said thoughtfully. "I don't need to be out there as often as the younger kids. Hermione and me could go walk by the lake... do all that mushy stuff that Lavender was always ranting about. We don't get the chance to spend much time together," he admitted softly. "Yeah!" he said with burgeoning enthusiasm and confidence. "It's about time that we got back to doing things together; I'm marching over there right now and...oh!"

Harry frowned at Ron's crestfallen gasp and followed his friend's saddened gaze. A large owl had swept in and was perched on the back of Hermione's chair, no doubt to deliver the letter which Hermione was reading with almost feverish excitement. They watched on as she pocketed the mystery missive and, without a glance in their direction, hastily leave. Both saw it as a portent of her growing disaffection, and while Ron angrily packed away his books, Harry felt something squirm unpleasantly...they had always been together.

April 26th

1. portent

2. lambaste

3. chimera

4. lionize

5. ubiquitous

6. winsome

7. epigone

oooXooo

Author's Notes: For epocheon... for the inspiration!

Her vision was clouding over, and the sounds that had been clear were becoming nothing more than whispers. Letting out a frustrated scream, she felt herself slip from the mind that had carried her. The lack of senses was a disorientating and disturbing event, and she could not stop that thrill of fear as she travelled...deaf, dumb and blind...from her host back to her decomposing frame. Seeing and hearing through her own sense organs was a shadow of what she could perceive when clinging like a parasite to a convenient mind, and she craved it! She yearned for it!

It had been quite accidental that first foray into someone else's mind; she had struggled and railed against her confines, and after a moment of terrifying nothingness and the sudden maelstrom of bombarding sensory information, she had been blessed with vision and sound. A glance in a reflective surface had indicated that she was inside the head of a young, male Healer, and as he had done his rounds, she had revelled in the freedom.

Meadowes had been resistant to her attempts, and the other patients were too far away to reach; it seemed reasonable to posit that just as Legilimency required eye contact, so this new ability required the host to be within a few feet of her. She bided her time until the Healers did their rounds or some visitor happened to walk past her little cell.

It was during such a confluence of minds that she discovered Snape residing in one of the rooms, and although she saw him as suffering a similar fate, she was less than sympathetic given how he had usurped her from the Dark Lord's attentions and potentially precipitated her current state. But as her excursions had lengthened, she had come to learn of Snape's treachery, and her mind had seethed. Her future had narrowed down to the fulfilment of one task: the destruction of Severus Snape. Struggling and striving, she began to determine the extent of her ability, and used it to gather information about his treatment and visitors, about his status in the Wizarding world and anything else that would aid her in her objective. It was her passion!

The only hiccup in her plan was Granger. The bitch would no doubt find some way to thwart the destiny awaiting Snape; her impassioned speech to the Healer in charge of Sub Rosa, demanding that she see Snape had indicated her level of commitment and with free access to the ward, nothing would hinder her. It was only through good fortune that she had discovered how close Granger could be to a cure when that McGonagall witch had hesitated by her hidden doorway to wipe away a tear at Snape's condition. She could no longer rely upon serendipity to drop nuggets of information in her lap; she had to be more assertive. The first hurdle to leap was to learn how to exert some influence upon the mind she occupied.

~X~

The Room of Requirement looked as it had that day they had returned to Hogwarts to search for Rowena's diadem. She shivered as her mind was pulled to those memories that she had effectively smothered with study, Snape's cure and anything else that promised distraction. But in the cold room with the gaping hole in the wall, she couldn't hide from the rising torrent. Gasping, moaning and bowed beneath their weight, she staggered and clutched at her belly, only the knowledge that she was to meet with the mysterious orderly to discuss Snape's cure kept her upright and in control.

The letter had come as a surprise and a welcome one at that. The Headmistress' withdrawn lenity had disappointed her, and her mind had turned to ponder leaving the school undetected, but she had tempered her impatience to see Snape with common sense. The method described in the book required equipment and ingredients that she did not yet possess; rushing off to see Snape would be foolish unless she had the chance to do good by it.

Indeed, the letter had been so graciously received that she had failed, at first, to read between the neatly written script, and it was only now when she craved distraction did she see the hidden warnings.

But why should she be wary of the house-elves? What steps were being taken at Hogwarts to ensure student safety that could be manipulated to a darker purpose?

She knew that the attentions of the teachers had intensified since the start of term, but they were still rattled by the Final Battle and its ramification: they didn't intend to cloy. The decrees spewed out by the Ministry were just gimmicks to enhance the feeling of security, and the new Ministry-appointed counsellor annexed to the Infirmary was a just a gimcrack attempt at demonstrating that the Ministry was on top of 'helping the youth come to terms with the trauma'!

Sighing, she let her gaze drift from the letter; she knew why she was bitter about the new service at Hogwarts. The counsellors were very good at their jobs and were respected by staff and students alike, and without them, she was sure that Hogwarts would be a less halcyon haven. But she just couldn't make use of them! They represented the act of peeling open her thoughts and feelings, and she saw it as ripping open a weeping wound, and she feared it.

Healing Snape was her way of healing herself... and she knew that she couldn't fail; it had become a desperate aim, her 'unwritten implicit', because no one could know of it or how it burned within her...or how failure would cripple her.

May 10th

1. confluence

2. posit

3. maelstrom

4. gimcrack

5. lenity

6. cloy

7. halcyon