Friends and Feathers

Author's Notes: Words and their definitions follow each chapter. In this offering, there are two drabbles in one; I hope you enjoy them.

"You want me to pass on messages to Draco?"

"After the recent melee, I feel that this small sign of beneficence on your part will go some way to ease my pains," drawled Lucius.

Hermione stared at the enigmatic man sitting calmly across from her; she could see the long, red welts on his cheeks from where she had scratched wildly at him, and guilt flickered in her guts. Her limbs still trembled from what she had suffered, and she felt that peculiar light-headedness that comes with trying to process some huge event.

"But why can't you deliver the notes yourself?" she asked tentatively. Her tongue and lips felt sluggish, and her voice seemed distant and lethargic, but something in his sudden expression dispersed that lassitude.

"There are certain topics that I wish to discuss with my son that will not be permitted by the Ministry," he said after an uncomfortable pause. "Nothing that should alarm you; my days of following that vile creature ended long before Potter executed him," he said soothingly. "I have no intention to edify you on my intentions; all I wish is to determine Draco's wellbeing without the Ministry scouring every word. I need to be able to speak freely to him about..."

The mouth suddenly snapped shut, and Lucius withdrew, as though trying to distance himself from the words hanging in the air, and Hermione felt the last scraps of emotional fatigue evaporate. Infused with energy, her mind trawled through what she knew about the Malfoys after their arrest, and she realised that it was rather meagre.

The headlines from the Daily Prophet paraded through her mind, and she remembered sharing in the outrage as a result of the Malfoys serving lenient sentences, but the man before her screamed out a punishment that transcended the one that had been made known publically. But what could the Ministry have imposed that would have been worse than Azkaban?

Interest flared, but she reined it in; prying would only reinstate that old tension, and she found that she quite liked this tentative relationship that had developed between them. Inhaling slowly, she just nodded and forced her curiosity to capitulate to common sense.

"Of course I'll act as a go-between."

It seemed that he struggled for words and settled on a curt nod before glancing away and pressing his fingertips against his lips. Hermione felt a similar inadequacy with words and contented herself by picking at loose thread on the seam of her cuff.

"The ingredients for the potion will be ready tomorrow," Lucius said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "The money provided by Meadowes will not cover the cost, and as my own wealth has become a matter of mere numismatics for the Ministry, we need alternative financing," he said tactfully. "The vendor has had a sudden blight of intelligence and realises that the ingredients themselves can be construed to be dubious, and he has threatened to 'let slip' that I require them," he said bitterly while staring at the hearthrug.

At the first giggle, his head snapped up, and he stared incredulously at the young girl trying to smother her laughter by shoving her knuckles into her mouth. At the second, he narrowed his eyes and eased back into the chair.

"What could possibly be amusing about this situation, Miss Granger?" he demanded waspishly. "Without those ingredients, our plans falter."

Hermione felt her sides burn with the effort of trying to stop herself from laughing, and she could feel her tears running down her face, but the thought of Malfoy being broke was just too overwhelming! The man had been one of the richest wizards around, so rich, in fact, that people refused to charge him on account of his presence being such a wonderful compliment upon their premises. Despite seeing his eyes narrow to slits and his lips thin at her hysteria, she couldn't summon the energy to battle her humour.

"I'm... sorry; I... didn't mean to laugh," she said while hiccupping. "But... you... asking for money from a Mudblood is just so... funny!"

Blinking several times, he processed her words, and soon, he felt his own lips twitch in sympathy; it did have that certain wry humour that had once appealed to him. How long had it been since anything had amused him? Watching Hermione as she strained to stop her laughter, and feeling his own humour bubbling in his chest, he wondered if he had taken and retained something from her through legilimency; had some aspect of her brain restored something that he had thought irretrievably lost?

How this girl pulled the rug out from under him at every meeting!

Nothing about their working alliance seemed to be following the expected norm; he had expected bitterness and hate, and although she had unleashed her pain and vitriol, she was still content to sit with him and laugh at his predicament, and surprisingly, he felt that same comfort and ease. He could excuse her for her sentimental sensibilities...Gryffindor that she was...but it just wasn't very Slytherin of him! For Merlin's sake! He had almost told her of Scion Nullificare.

His humour drained, and that terrible dread settled in his stomach...his son had been rendered infertile by the Ministry; a terrible punishment upon them both, and Draco had no idea of his curse or his father's terrible duty to explain. Closing his eyes, he felt that familiar despair, hate and crippling abulia smother his thinking, and he no longer cared that someone was witnessing his descent...it was just too much.

The very air seemed to undulate around him, dispersing his grief and bitterness across the room from where it rebounded to crush him further. He would have thought himself incapable of weeping had not Hermione thrust a handkerchief into his trembling hands, and he would never have thought that she would have offered him any sympathy, but as he looked up, he saw her dark eyes shimmering.

1.beneficence

2. undulate

3. scion

4. numismatics

5. edify

6. melee

7. capitulate

.......Words with Definitions. ......

beneficence \buh-NEFF-i-suhns\, noun:

1. The practice of doing good; active goodness, kindness, or charity.

2. A charitable gift or act.

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undulate \UN-juh-layt; UN-dyuh-\, intransitive:

To move in, or have, waves; to vibrate; to wave; as, undulating air.

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scion \SY-uhn\, noun:

1. A detached shoot or twig of a plant used for grafting.

2. Hence, a descendant; an heir.

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numismatics \noo-miz-MAT-iks; -mis-; nyoo-\, noun:

the collection and study of money (and coins in particular).

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edify \ED-uh-fy\, transitive verb:

To instruct and improve, especially in moral and religious knowledge;

to teach.

--edifying, adjective

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melee \MAY-lay; may-LAY\, noun:

1. A fight or hand-to-hand struggle in which the combatants are

mingled in one confused mass.

2. A confused conflict or mingling.

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capitulate \kuh-PICH-uh-layt\, intransitive verb:

To surrender under agreed conditions.

Snape nudged the last two stones into place with his toe and admired his new bed frame; it was just tall and wide enough to accommodate his body, and he intended to fill it with some of the gorse from outside and then, cover that prickly mattress with the feathers that had gathered on the ground. It was plausible that there would be sufficient to make a bed more comfortable than the cave floor; it would also help him to conserve precious heat, as the gorse and feathers would insulate his body. Grinning as he worked, he revelled in the idea of being a slugabed for the first time in nearly twenty years.

With a panache that belied his predicament, he wove between the bushes, collecting the black remnants of the vicious donnybrook that had ironically given him almost all that he needed to survive and be comfortable. The strange sky no longer bothered him, and although the prospect of his next meal worried him, he felt in fine fettle as he listened to the ravens caw and play around him.

It was almost as though he truly belonged here, and as his mind drifted back to those memories of his life before all this, it seemed that it had been such an awful and confused mess of demands, questions, expectations, dismay and despair. Why should he waste time even thinking about venturing back to that challenging and unrewarding realm? There was nothing there but pain and hopelessness. No, it was better here, he thought; no worries, no Dumbledore, no Voldemort and no Potter... either of them.

Without permission, his mind unfurled his memories of Lily, and he staggered as his chest lurched. It felt as though it had been decades since he had thought about her, and guilt rampaged through his chest at the mental and emotional desertion. But he had stood in a lonely littoral prison, watching her from across the forbidding ocean of his bitterness at their choices that he felt a rising petulance that she should have some influence in this new haven of his! He had lived and almost died for her, and she had given him nothing, and she never would!

Snarling in fury, his mood did a volte-face, and the peace that had tried to soothe him was rudely ousted. Kicking out at the neat stones, suddenly despising the lie that they supported, he destroyed what he had created that so cruelly disguised his fate...this was no haven! This was a hell! Seething, he stormed from the cave...nowhere was he safe from his ghosts!

~X~

The stunned faces of the hospital staff and patrons would delight her for years, she was sure, but first, she needed to keep hold of Meadowes long enough to drain his memories. She had control, but his mind was slippery, and the more she tried to delve into it, the more it darted away. It was of secondary importance at the minute though as she wheezed and limped towards a safe place. She could peel back his mind one sliver at a time at her leisure once she was safe at her little hideaway. It would be interesting to see what the old fool and the Mudblood bitch had been up while she had been busy; she would cure Meadowes of his fondness for verbiage and teach him alacrity.

Keeping her palm flat against the deep pockets of Meadowes' coat to protect the precious cargo, she moved further into Muggle London. Time was her ally at the moment; it would take time for the shock to disperse enough for the alarm to be raised; it would take time for the Aurors to arrive, and even more time to sort some kind of search. She grinned... This was the cost of complacency. While they panicked and milled around, asking questions, she would be gone.

1.panache

2. verbiage

3. fettle

4. slugabed

5. donnybrook

6. littoral

7. volte-face

panache \puh-NASH; -NAHSH\, noun:

1. Dash or flamboyance in manner or style.

2. A plume or bunch of feathers, esp. such a bunch worn on the

helmet; any military plume, or ornamental group of feathers.

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verbiage \VUR-bee-ij\, noun:

1. An overabundance of words; wordiness.

2. Manner or style of expression; diction.

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fettle \FET-l\, noun:

A state or condition of fitness or order; state of mind; spirits --

often used in the phrase "in fine fettle."

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slugabed \SLUHG-uh-bed\, noun:

One who stays in bed until a late hour; a sluggard.

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donnybrook \DON-ee-brook\, noun:

1. A brawl; a free-for-all.

2. A heated quarrel or dispute.

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littoral \LIH-tuh-rul\, adjective:

1. Of, relating to, or on a coastal or shore region, especially a

seashore.

noun:

1. A coastal region, especially the zone between the limits of high

and low tides.

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volte-face \vawlt-FAHS; vawl-tuh-\, noun:

An about-face; a reversal, as in policy or opinion.