Chapter Sixteen: At Malfoy Manor

****

Winter, 1980

The Knight Bus jarred to a stop, nearly throwing Severus and his mother out of their seats. Severus caught a rail with one hand and his mother's forearm with the other just in time.

"Malfoy Manor!" called the conductor.

Severus kept hold on his mother's arm as they stood up. She was shaky, red blotched her cheeks and she had hardly been able to hold back her tears since they'd boarded the bus at Linden Lane. She clung desperately to his robe like a child, wadding a clump of it in her fist as they went down the aisle.

The conductor eyed them suspiciously, no doubt wondering what business such a disreputable-looking pair could possibly have at Malfoy Manor. Severus stared back coldly, and with an officious harrumph the conductor looked away.

Severus and his mother disembarked into a narrow country lane. With a bang, the bus leapt a dozen yards down the lane. With another bang, it disappeared.

Severus looked around. Moonlight sparkled on a dusting of snow, revealing a tangle of brambles on one side of the lane and a trim yew hedge on the other.

"Yes, this is it," whispered Mother.

Her eyes were strangely alight. Severus wondered what memories and longings were passing through her mind. But he did not ask. He followed in silence as Mother turned into a gravel drive. The hedge seemed to march beside them on either side of the drive, like a tall and unassailable guard.

They had not got far when a wrought-iron gate loomed before them. Mother stopped, looking uncertain. Severus approached the gate and peered through iron bars at a drive winding off into darkness. Tentatively he lifted his hand to the latch.

The decorative furls at the top of the gate melted and re-formed into a face far more forbidding than the Seeing Eye of St Mungo's, and its voice, nothing like the Eye's soothing bureaucratic monotone, rang out like a fire bell: "State your purpose!"

Mother's uncertainty turned to dismay. "They always knew me before--"

The iron twisted again, and the fearful mask was replaced by a benevolently-smiling likeness of Narcissa Malfoy. "Eileen! Severus! Do come in!"

The gates swung open, and Mother, her face relaxing in relief, again led the way down the hedge-lined drive. The strange silence fell upon her again, until a rustling drew her and Severus's eyes to the top of the right-hand hedge. A white peacock fanned its tail and looked haughtily down on them. "Abraxas is still breeding them, I see," murmured Mother.

Malfoy Manor appeared before them at the end of the drive. Snow mantled its sills and eaves. Christmas decorations brightened the front door and candles gleamed in the leaded windows. The front door was thrown open and golden light poured out.

"Eileen! Severus!" Narcissa Malfoy hurried down the stone steps. She clamped Mother to her breast and pressed Mother's cheek with her own. "I am so happy to see you--barring the circumstances, of course--oh, do come in!"

Narcissa kept a kindly yet proprietary hand on Mother's arm as she led them through a cavernous, portrait-lined hallway to a sumptuous drawing room. A thick carpet muffled their footsteps. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a muted glow on walls covered in purple silk brocade. One corner held a tall Christmas tree sparkling with candles, garlands and baubles. Flames danced merrily in the grate of a huge marble fireplace.

Narcissa settled Severus and his mother in two commodious armchairs and took a third for herself. "First things first," she said. "Dobby!"

A house-elf scurried from a shadowy doorway. It had the largest and roundest eyes Severus had ever seen: eyes which regarded him with an expression of anxiety.

"Yes, Mistress Narcissa?" said Dobby.

"Cake and the best of Master Lucius's elf-made wine for our guests, please." Her elegantly imperious tone suited Narcissa Malfoy, the mistress of Malfoy Manor, even better than it had suited Narcissa Black, the pure-blood princess of Slytherin House. As Dobby scampered off to obey her, Severus glanced at his mother.

Honesty informed him that, even if she weren't bedraggled, weary and a generation older, Mother could never have been as beautiful as Narcissa Malfoy. And yet she was a pure-blood, who had been expected to marry another pure-blood. If she had lived up to expectations, Severus might have been born in--well, not a house like Malfoy Manor, perhaps, but certainly into circumstances better than those in Spinner's End. Not all pure-bloods were as rich as the Malfoys and the Blacks, but as far as Severus knew none were poor, either. Unless, like Mother, their families had cut them off for breaking the rules.

The wine and cake arrived. "Thank you, Dobby," said Narcissa, taking the tray from the house elf. "I will serve the lady and gentleman. You may go."

"Yes, Mistress Narcissa." Dobby blinked with undiminished anxiety at Mother and Severus. Then, with a deep bow, he left.

Narcissa placed plates of cake and glasses of wine before her guests. The cake was pound cake, which melted warm and buttery on Severus's tongue. He had never drunk elf-made wine before, and after a few sips knew he had never tasted anything like its fragrant, floral sweetness, like the essence of roses mixed with grapes warmed by a mild autumn sun.

"Thank you, Narcissa, thank you," said Mother, looking braced by her own glass of wine, which, emptied, now sat on the side table. "You're such a very good girl."

"Yes, thank you," said Severus. "For taking us in as well; I can assure you we won't trouble you for long--"

"Nonsense! You must stay as long as you like! I won't hear of anything else! But--you were evicted? How? I don't understand."

With the distinct feeling that she would prefer to tell the story, Severus looked at his mother. She did tell it: haltingly, but at least without tears.

It was bad enough without storms of weeping, but perhaps Mother was past that now. Severus had been working late and thus had missed Tobias's latest escapade. But Mother told of nothing he hadn't heard plenty of times before: of Tobias's drunken bellowing in the street, of the tenants' angry summoning of the landlady and the threats to call Magical Law Enforcement.

"But how did he find you?" asked Narcissa. "Linden Lane is a Wizarding district. Isn't it under Muggle-Repelling Enchantments?"

"I don't know how he found us," Mother said softly. "I swear it."

"There, there!" Narcissa patted Mother's hand. "Dear Eileen!"

Mother broke down at last. She buried her face in her hands in a vain attempt to stifle her sobs. Tears leaked between her fingers.

Narcissa transferred her hand to Mother's shoulder. "I won't hear of anything but your staying here as long as you like," she repeated as Mother wept on. "I insist. You and Severus are our honoured guests."

Mother lowered her hands and wiped them on her robe. "You've befriended me, Narcissa--me!--and now this!"

Severus wanted to sink through the luxuriously-carpeted floor, but Narcissa, taking Mother kindly into her arms, seemed sincere. "Of course you! Of course this! Does the daughter of one of our oldest pure-blood families, my own mother's friend, deserve any less? And Severus, my old school mate, a fellow Slytherin!"

That last bit might have been a stretch. But, seeing his mother smiling and drying her tears with Narcissa's proffered handkerchief, Severus was in no mood to quibble.

After Mother was calmed and drinking her second glass of wine, Narcissa rang the servants' bell. With a crack! of Apparition, the house-elf Dobby reappeared.

"Have guest rooms prepared in the south wing for Mrs Snape and her son," said Narcissa. "They'll be staying with us for a while."

The elf bowed and Disapparated.

"The south wing has the sunniest rooms in the house," said Narcissa. "And you'll have a view of the garden. Nothing but the best for Eileen Prince and her son!"

"Thank you, Narcissa," said Mother. "But--you know--it's Snape, not Prince. I haven't been Eileen Prince for a long time."

"That could easily be remedied--"

Severus looked sharply at Narcissa.

"--if you were to divorce him."

There was no condescension in Narcissa's voice. Still Mother, seeming to avoid her eyes, looked around the room and did not answer.

What was she thinking? That a pure-blood witch who had married properly didn't have to consider divorce? That she was just as deserving of comfort and respect as Narcissa Malfoy? That it was hardly fair that one youthful mistake should have been enough to ruin her life?

After all these years, Severus couldn't have guessed from looking at her. All he knew was what was crossing his own mind.

Mother set her glass down. Narcissa directed her wand at the servants' bell, and the empty glasses and crockery disappeared.

"You'll be wanting your beds now, of course," Narcissa had begun when from the hallway came the sound of a door opening, the stamping of feet and the twittering of house elves.

"Miserable weather. And of course she will," said a gruff voice. "What's the Weasley faction ever done for Millicent Bagnold?"

"Nothing at all, Father," came Lucius's voice in reply. "But I haven't noticed that Millicent appreciates us any more than she ever did."

The drawing room door opened, and Lucius and Abraxas Malfoy came in. Abraxas's silvery brows shot up as soon as he laid eyes on his daughter-in-law. "Still up, Narcissa, in your condition? You ought to be taking better care of yourself!"

A faint flush climbed into Narcissa's cheeks. "I'm fine, Father, thank you. And, as you may have noticed, we have guests."

The slightly disgruntled look on Abraxas's face told Severus that he wasn't accustomed to entertaining strangers at this hour. His eyes swept over them and stopped on Mother. Frowning, he came closer and peered into her face. "Why, if it isn't Eileen Prince--"

"--Mrs Eileen Snape," said Lucius at the same time. He was staring at them in frank surprise. "And her son, Severus. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Severus and Eileen will be paying us an extended visit," said Narcissa.

"Oh, no," said Mother. "We couldn't impose. Not if you're unwell."

"I'm fine." Narcissa's colour deepened and she cast Abraxas an irritated glance. He missed it entirely, for he was still looking at Mother. Lucius, however, gave his wife an encouraging nod.

"Lucius and I are expecting," Narcissa said.

Mother's face lit up with happy relief. "Why, how wonderful for you! Congratulations! When is the baby due?"

"In June." Narcissa smiled brightly. "The midwife says I'm nearly past the morning-sickness stage, so I shouldn't be too horrible a hostess."

"But why are they here?" said Abraxas. "Not to tell you your job, Narcissa, but Heloise would never have entertained the wife and son of a Muggle."

Severus rose stiffly. "As my mother has said, we wouldn't dream of imposing--"

"And as my mother is no longer with us, Narcissa must do the best she can, " Lucius said pointedly. "You said you were tired, Father. Don't you want to go to bed?"

"I suppose I do. Eileen, nice to see you again." Abraxas nodded at Mother, then looked at Severus. "And...awfully sorry, but I seem to have forgotten your name?"

Severus unclenched his teeth. "Severus."

"Severus. Yes. Well." Abraxas turned to Lucius and Narcissa. "Good night, then."

After Abraxas had closed the door behind him, Lucius sighed and shook his head. "Severus, Mrs Snape--I do apologise. He's an old man and he says the first thing that comes into his head."

Severus, his mouth clamped shut to keep his rude retort behind his teeth, could think of nothing polite to say. Neither, apparently, could Mother.

"Oh, dear," murmured Narcissa.

Lucius sighed again, then said, "Let's talk, Severus. Alone, if you don't mind, ladies?" He had Severus's arm and ushered him to the door before anyone had a chance to answer.

****

Severus watched as Lucius busied himself at the sideboard in his library. He hadn't seen Lucius since the night, in this very room, that he had struck Lucius with Sectumsempra at Voldemort's command. As he sat in one of the armchairs, his feet rested on the very rug--Persian, robin's-egg blue--into which Lucius had bled.

He didn't know what to think about that. He could remember the dark power of the Sectumsempra curse gathering in his heart, surging hotly through his blood to the tips of his fingers. He could remember echoes of that power pounding in his brain as he'd looked down at Lucius trembling and bleeding on the rug. He could remember thinking nothing at that moment but that he had mastered Lucius Malfoy and proven himself to Lord Voldemort.

Now Severus found it hard to believe he hadn't dreamed the whole thing. The rug was spotless, the wood of the floor and furnishings gleamed. The library was the same sedate sanctuary it had been before Severus had torn Lucius open with Sectumsempra.

Lucius turned. "Are you sure you won't have any Firewhisky, Severus?"

Severus declined. His overtired brain was already buzzing with the wine. Lucius filled a glass of whisky for himself and sat down next to Severus. Severus's eyes went instantly to his face. Pale, almost translucent in the glow of the candlelight, it showed no scars. Severus remembered the dittany smeared over the cuts on Lucius's face the morning after. Someone had assiduously maintained the treatment regimen--perhaps Dobby, the perpetually anxious house-elf.

"Somehow I have the feeling you didn't come down for the hunting," said Lucius.

"I don't have to stay," Severus said quickly. "I can sleep in a Trainee's room at the hospital. But Mother--Narcissa said--"

Lucius raised a hand. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course you're staying. But what happened? Your mother looked upset."

"We've been evicted," Severus said flatly.

Lucius blinked. "Evicted? But surely you were able to pay the rent?"

"Of course I could pay the rent!" snapped Severus.

Lucius's eyebrows rose. But he said nothing.

He was waiting, clearly. If he wanted to know more, why didn't he ask Narcissa? But no: after suffering the humiliation of hearing Mother quaver through the story in Narcissa's presence, Severus was to relive the torment by repeating it to Lucius.

He got through it as quickly as he could. And all the while, looking into Lucius's face, he could tell that Lucius hadn't the faintest idea what it was like to be put out in the street because of his father's drunken antics, any more than he had an idea what it was like to live without the rich yet understated comfort that surrounded him day and night. He did not know what it was like to sit before his pure-blood betters and prove to them once again how very much better they were.

It was unbearable. Was that why Severus retreated again into the memory of Sectumsempra? The time when he'd had the power, not Lucius, because he'd always had more and better magic than Lucius, even if he had less and worse of everything else?

Bathed in that power, as he had watched Lucius shaking and bleeding beneath him, he had felt no shame. He had been unashamed of Mother for letting a Muggle mill worker steal her magic by destroying her happiness. He had been unashamed of himself for being ugly, poor and unwanted.

Lord Voldemort had given all that to him that night, by giving him the command to cast Sectumsempra on Lucius Malfoy. It was as though he knew exactly what Severus needed and what he needed to overcome.

And since that night--nothing. Voldemort had forgotten Severus.

"Really, Severus, something needs to be done about that man," said Lucius. "I know he's your father, but.... Well. I will do what little I can, at any rate. You and Mrs Snape shall stay at Malfoy Manor as long as you like."

****

The Christmas season ended, and Lucius and Narcissa remained as good as their word. Not a hint was dropped that Severus and Mother should do anything other than stay on indefinitely at Malfoy Manor. Severus did not even have to pay for the removal and storage of his and Mother's furniture. Lucius sent house elves round to Linden Lane to collect their belongings and transfer them to an outbuilding on the estate. Severus had his owls forwarded to Malfoy Manor, and in the mornings he Flooed from the marble fireplace in the drawing room to the lobby of St Mungo's Hospital.

Work went on as usual, with the added benefit that Severus did not have to worry about Mother while he was there. Narcissa treated her like a queen. With her as with Severus, Lucius was all urbanity, the perfect host. When they visited, Druella Black was kind and Bellatrix Lestrange was friendlier than Severus had ever seen her. After his initial disgruntlement, even Abraxas was courteous.

Under their attentions, Mother bloomed. Her magic returned. Not the least contributor to the happiness of them both was the impregnable magical security of Malfoy Manor, which in no way depended on Mother's unreliable resolve to shun Tobias Snape.

And so (except for the curious frown Apothecary Morgan gave him when he submitted his change of address) work--and, indeed, life--went more smoothly for Severus than it had ever done before.

Life did not seem to be going so well for Lily Potter. Two weeks into January, she had not yet returned from what she had told Severus would be a three-day holiday beginning the day after New Year's.

He might have thought that she had extended her holiday, but Trainee Healers were lucky to get a week off together. He might have thought that her work schedule was none of his business--that Lily Potter ought not to concern him at all. But Severus had seen the worried look cross Harding's face when, in a carefully casual voice, he had asked after Lily.

"She's ill," said Harding.

Severus's stomach knotted. "Ill? With what?"

Irritation joined Harding's worry. "Don't know. But then, nobody ever tells me anything."

Later, when he passed a gaggle of Trainees in the corridor, overhearing Lily's name coupled with the words "baby" and "Miscarriage--?" did not ease the tightness in Severus's midsection.

Nor, really, did it explain it. Women survived miscarriages. Unless the miscarriages were caused by Dark magic.

"Voldemort's done enough. He's had things his way long enough. We have to fight him, we have to get rid of him before our children are old enough to suffer the way we've suffered."

Why had that come into his mind? He hadn't thought Lily was going to fight Voldemort when she'd said it, and he didn't think she'd fight him now. With his wife pregnant, even Potter wouldn't be such a fool. Oh, they'd both talked in school, when the words "You-Know-Who" had begun to be heard. All the Gryffindors had talked. Even Pettigrew had run on about what a hero he'd be. It didn't mean anything.

Or so Severus thought until a couple of days later, when Lily returned to Accident and Emergency. Severus was trundling along with his potions trolley toward the Healers' desk when he saw her. He stopped in his tracks.

She was on crutches, and it was easy to see that she needed them: from knee to ankle, her right leg was curled outward, gently but grotesquely, like a strung bow. Severus had seen enough on the day Gideon and Fabian Prewett had been brought in to deduce that she must have been the victim of a Bone-cracker Curse.

She didn't look to be in pain--she was trading jokes with Harding--but the laughter didn't make it to her eyes. They had a hard, wary look, foreign to Lily's eyes, but Severus had seen its like before. He couldn't think where at first, then suddenly it came to him. Lily looked just like Rufus Scrimgeour.

Other Trainees, Lily's co-workers and friends, came up to her as soon as they saw her, eventually surrounding her. Severus caught the end of a question in a strained female voice: "--baby?"

"No," Lily said rather loudly. "The baby's fine." Her voice fell again. Severus drew closer.

"--James wasn't home, and I surprised a couple of thieves trying to break in. They're on their way to Azkaban now, and when they get there, they'll still look worse than I do."

Severus heard as much relief as amusement in the Trainees' laughter. A couple of them left to return to work, leaving a gap through which Severus faced Lily.

"Oh! Hi, Severus."

Severus glanced at her deformed leg. "A Bone-cracker Curse?"

Lily met his eyes. By the expression in hers, Severus could tell that she hadn't forgotten the Prewetts, either.

"Brilliant diagnosis, Snape," said a Trainee sarcastically. Severus heard the undercurrent of fear in his voice. All of Lily's friends at St Mungo's were Trainee Healers. They knew as well as Severus did that it wasn't normally petty housebreakers who cast Bone-cracker Curses.

Lily forced a smile. "Yeah. Brilliant. That's exactly what it was."

"You should be home," said Severus shortly.

"Yeah, well, you know Galen. Unless you've been carried into the department on a stretcher, you come in to the department to work." Severus's annoyance deepened, and her smile broadened. "I'm kidding. I'm just here to do some parchment-work. Writing up some research."

"Oh. Well. Good." Severus turned his back on her and went to finish the stocking. He heard sniggering behind him as he left, but that was nothing new to him, and at the moment it was the least of his worries.

****

When Severus returned later that day to A&E to fill an order, his first thought was that Lily must have been involved in some very important research. She was surrounded this time not by Trainees but by Galen Sage, Eugenia Wort and Head Healer Constance Meed. When he heard the name "Dumbledore" arise from that little knot of people, his second thought was that Lily had lied to him.

It wasn't that Dumbledore had never appeared at St Mungo's--Severus knew very well that he had. It was that, in his experience, Dumbledore had never had anything to do with Trainee Healers or petty housebreakers. Though what Dumbledore might ever have had to do with the Bone-cracker Curse, Severus wouldn't have ventured to guess.

He might have asked Lily, if he'd had the nerve to approach anyone surrounded by Sage, Wort and Meed. It didn't matter as much, though, as that pile of orders waiting for him in Potions and Physics. Besides, before he had a chance to take a step toward her, Lily was whisked out of the department in that cloud of very important people.

****

Every morning, when Severus sat up on the side of his feather bed and set his feet in the deep pile of the carpet, he told himself he would check the small ads at the back of the Prophet for flats. He didn't take the newspaper laid on the table by the house elf--that paper, he told himself, belonged to the Malfoys. He'd buy one at work. But when he got to work, he found he never had the time to make his way to the fifth floor, to buy a newspaper in the gift shop.

And then, when he got home, there was Mother, effusing with Narcissa over the delightful day they'd had together, joining with Druella in cosseting the expectant mother, or even (and this never failed to astound Severus) chatting with a smiling and nodding Bellatrix Lestrange.

That last, in itself, was enough to drive all else before it out of Severus's mind--including his intention of checking the small ads for a flat before he went to bed and sank his tired head into the sweetly-scented, fluffy feather pillow.

****

For once, instead of conspiring against Severus, the world seemed to be working with him to maintain him in this luxurious routine. After that first night, Lucius never mentioned Tobias. He never inquired into the progress of Severus's hunt for new lodgings. After Severus had been at Malfoy Manor for a week, however, Lucius did begin again to speak of Lord Voldemort.

He never brought up the subject unless they were alone. Severus had no idea whether the rest of Lucius's family knew he wore the Dark Mark, and he didn't ask. But neither he nor they objected when Lucius steered him into the library of an evening to share with him a bottle of claret and his musings on Lord Voldemort.

"I have great hopes for him, Severus," Lucius said. "He wants what we want: for pure-blood wizardry to reclaim its rightful place in the world: the entire world. Let the Muggles know us and fear us as they once did."

Lucius had waxed passionate on that theme before Severus had taken the potioner's post in Azkaban. Severus had learned since then that Voldemort was more than a political activist.

"He has delved deeply into the Dark Arts. He has a natural affinity for them.... Well, you saw that when I introduced you." Lucius glanced quickly at the Persian rug. "He wants power--power over the Ministry, the schools, Gringotts--because that power will give him, among other things, the security to immerse himself further in the Dark Arts, to pursue his studies exactly as he sees fit."

For that, Voldemort needed to rule the wizarding world and terrify the Muggle world? "What does he wish to learn?" asked Severus.

"He has never been clear on that. But I think I can guess." Lucius paused, looking as though he expected Severus to fill the silence. But Severus did not.

"Can't you?" said Lucius. "But only look at him. He is like no man I have ever seen--like no man who has ever lived. The longer I know him, the less like a man he becomes." His voice fell until it was nearly inaudible. "I wonder if he is still human."

Again Lucius fell silent, and again Severus did not interrupt.

"But then," Lucius resumed, "in order to drive out one's human failings, one must drive out one's humanity. Must one not? And what is the greatest human failing, the very mark of humanity?"

"I don't know," Severus answered truthfully.

Lucius looked at him. "Perhaps not. You don't know him as well as I do. You hardly know him at all. Though you will soon, I think."

When? wondered Severus. But he was even more curious about the answer to Lucius's question. "What failing is the mark of humanity?"

"Why, death, of course," said Lucius. "The monstrous futility, in which all our passions and labours end as a handful of dust. Our greatest enemy and the essence of our human nature."

Severus stared at Lucius, struck dumb by his unwonted eloquence.

Lucius smiled as if he understood. "I have known him for a while now. I know some, though not all of the way he thinks. I believe he is seeking to conquer that great failing of death. I believe he is seeking immortality. And I am certain that if anyone can find it, he can."

"I don't want to live in a world ruled by a wizard who wants nothing for all eternity but his own great, dark, bloated self. I don't want my child born into a world like that."

So Lily had said of the Dark Lord, before a petty thief had hit her with the Bone-cracker Curse.

"Is that what you want?" asked Severus. "Is that why you joined him?"

A shadow flitted through Lucius's eyes. Then he chuckled. "The cost seems rather high, don't you think? I'd rather live my life, however short it may be, as a human. No, my desires are much simpler. When he's won the world, he's said he'll put me in a position to help him run it. For our kind."

"Minister of Magic?"

"Why not, if that's what it takes?"

"And what have you done to earn that?"

"It's not so much what I have done, though I've certainly done my share," said Lucius. "It's what I will do, by bringing him you."

"He doesn't seem very interested in me," said Severus. "I haven't heard from him since--since we met here before."

"Since you demonstrated your power to him," Lucius said softly. "I've found you can't conclude anything by his silence. Oh, yes, I have every confidence.... You see, you and he are very much alike."

"Alike!" said Severus, startled.

"Yes," said Lucius. "You're both very powerful. And you're both half-bloods from rather impoverished backgrounds."

Severus didn't answer.

"You didn't know that, did you? I don't think he's told it to very many people, if to anyone at all except me. So that I can tell it to you. And you, of course, will keep it to yourself."

"Of course," said Severus. He had felt no desire to divulge that confidence when Voldemort had given it to him. He felt none now that Lucius repeated it. To speak of that blood status which he shared with the Dark Lord, a status which Lucius could never attain, seemed like a crass boast.

"It will be soon, I think," said Lucius. "The Dark Lord will invite you into our ranks, and then you will be able to tell him what you want. What can that be, I wonder? You seem so frugal and self-denying."

"Tell the truth, Severus: what do you really want?"

"Freedom from Tobias Snape.... Freedom from my father for my mother and me."

"You were there when I told Lord Voldemort what I wanted." Though with his blood pouring from the wounds of Sectumsempra onto the Persian rug, Lucius might have had other things on his mind.

A smile played about Lucius's lips, but his eyes held cold appraisal. "Ah, yes. So I was. Freedom, you said. Freedom's a good thing. Especially to one who's had so little. I think you'll come to us very soon, Severus. If you find that's what you want."

Severus said nothing, for he could think of nothing to say that wouldn't have sounded idiotic, overblown or both. And Lucius seemed to have said what he'd taken Severus off into the library to say. So, as the fire died down and the cold crept up on them, they left the library for their beds.

****

As Severus waited for Voldemort to return to Malfoy Manor, he waited for Lily to return to Accident and Emergency. Nearly a week had passed since he had seen her disappear in the midst of Sage, Wort and Meed.

The thought of asking after her seemed impossible at first. What business was it of his? What if Potter found out? Severus doubted he would say anything. This wasn't Hogwarts, after all. But the thought of Potter knowing that Severus had been nosing around after his wife, as he'd surely put it.... Severus didn't need the humiliation.

And yet he couldn't bear not knowing, either. The memory of her leaning on crutches, her leg twisted by the Bone-cracker Curse, gave him no rest. Something about it had burrowed into his mind and stayed there.

He broke down finally and asked Harding. "Lily Potter's not on holiday again, is she?"

"Holiday!" Harding looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "No, she's not on holiday. She's on medical leave. Complications of pregnancy. The midwife says she'll be fine as long as she takes care of herself, but a Trainee can't do that unless she goes out on leave." Harding chattered on, as if happy, this time, to be in the know.

"I see," said Severus, though he didn't. He had heard Lily say that the Bone-cracker Curse hadn't affected her baby, and neither she nor anyone else had mentioned any problems with her pregnancy before this.

It didn't mean she couldn't be having problems, of course. What on earth did Severus know about pregnancy?