There’s nothing more you can do.

His father’s words pounded into Lucius’ mind as he knelt beside Severus. He’d failed him. Severus came here for his help and he’d been worse than useless, and now his friend lay dead on the cold marble floor. He fell back heavily onto his rear and brushed away the tears rolling down his cheeks.

Malfoys aren’t crybabies. One of the many precepts he’d had ingrained in him growing up as a Malfoy, right along with True purebloods strive for perfection, they don’t wallow in mediocrity or Malfoys walk with pride. A whole list of such admonitions scrolled through his brain; at the moment he felt sure he’d broken a number of them, and he didn’t care.

In an odd sort of detachment, he sat watching the other men poking around the boy’s open wound, muttering enchantments, administering potions as if to bring him back. What was wrong with them, why couldn’t they just leave him alone even in death? Now his father was turning to him, studying him. Lucius hoped the man wasn’t angry; he wasn’t quite sure why he thought he might be. All the blood on the floor, perhaps.

“Lucius, look at me.”

From force of habit the young man’s head swung over in obedience to the voice of his sire. He felt numb. A strange humming in his ears distorted normal sound. Time and reality seemed slowed in a most peculiar way. Then it hit him: it was a dream, that’s what it was—a silly, stupid, nightmare! Except everybody knew that when you finally realized you were dreaming, you’d wake up. Why wasn’t he waking up?

“Lucius!” Abraxas had him by the arms, pulling him to his feet, shaking him gently, staring hard into his eyes.

Stop shaking me, I’m not a child, he wanted to say, yet the words weren’t coming out.

“He’s going into shock,” his father murmured to someone else.

Not to Severus, though. Severus was dead. No point in talking to him. Was someone else here? Oh, yes, Healer Cullin, he remembered. That was him sewing up a gaping hole in Severus’ body and waving his wand over the area again, pretending to be a competent wizard. Couldn’t fix what was inside, but you want to leave a nice corpse, is that it, Healer?

Now he felt himself falling very, very slowly as if hands guided him down, and his father was talking to the Healer again. How did he get sat up against a wall, and why was it swaying?

“Breathe, son.” Lucius breathed in and out a few times. “Now drink this.”

A bottle was shoved to his lips and a foul-tasting liquid started trickling in. He tried to turn his head to spit it out, but Abraxas held him tight. “I don’t want it,” he said softly as it dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

“Swallow it or else,” came the stern reply.

There was no arguing with that tone, and years of experience had taught him not to defy Father when he gave a direct order, especially when coupled with a threat. He swallowed, only to have more of the nasty stuff pumped into him. This, too, he choked down as he tried to shake his head in a plea for no more. Abraxas had his wand out, pointed at his son’s head while his fingers probed around Lucius’ eyes.

“Don’t kill me, I’ll drink it,” Lucius groaned.

“Kill you?” Abraxas repeated in dismay. Realizing his son mistook his ministrations for a death threat, he shook his head and heaved a tired sigh. “I’m not going to hurt you, I’m weaving a spell to calm your mind. Now be quiet.”

After what seemed an eternity, his father moved off to Severus’ body to help pretty it up. So it appeared to Lucius. They washed off the copious amounts of dried and sticky blood, careful to avoid the stitches Healer Cullin had just placed. They were arguing in voices that sounded muffled and far away. Lucius closed his eyes to quell the dizziness.

“Abraxas, are you certain?”

That must be the Healer. Father didn’t sound like that, nor did he call himself ‘Abraxas’, at least not in front of his son.

“Yes, Frank. If you have a better idea, I’d like to hear it.”

“It’s too dangerous! I thought you said he’s not even a purebl—”

“I have my reasons!” Now that sounded like Father.

Lucius opened his eyes to see Abraxas resting the tip of his wand against the hollow of his own throat. He murmured, “Conviare”, then put the wand to Severus’ neck and repeated the word. Together the men aimed their wands at the body, making nearly identical slashing and bobbing motions as they intoned in unison yet another spell that did nothing Lucius could detect. They levitated the body onto the sofa and covered it with a blanket. Not the head, though. Weren’t you supposed to cover the face? Wasn’t that a rule or something? He was pretty sure it was.

Once more Abraxas came over to peer at his son. This time he leaned heavily against the wall for support. “Look at me,” he commanded again.

“Father, can’t you let me be?” Lucius blurted, though he did look. Father seemed extremely tired, shaky. He didn’t even appear to notice his son’s brazen tone.

Abraxas scrutinized him and spoke over to the Healer. “It’s working, the pupils are responding.” Then, in a wry drawl he added, “And he’s getting cheeky with me.”

Alright, he did notice.

“He’ll be alright within a few minutes,” Frank replied. “You need to rest, Abraxas. What you did takes a huge toll on the body.”

What he did? Lucius’ ears perked up. He noticed the voices didn’t sound distant anymore, the buzzing in his head gone. Movements didn’t look like slow motion, things were starting to feel… normal. Whatever his father had fed him or charmed into his brain had finally taken hold.

“What does the Healer mean?” Lucius asked.

“I’ll explain another time.” Abraxas collapsed next to him and leaned back, exhausted. His face, normally pale like his son, was ashen. “Do you feel better, Lucius?”

“Yes, sir, quite a bit. What happened?”

“Shock,” the man replied simply. “Traumatic situations can produce it.”

“So Severus really is…dead.” Saying the word made it seem too real.

“Dead? No, but he almost was. He’s been gravely injured, and he’s still very bad off. Healer Cullin agreed to spend the night to watch over him.” He closed his eyes. “I need sleep, Lucius. Can you Apparate me to my room?”

“Yes, sir,” he responded automatically with a sudden twinge of dread. What exactly had his father done to become weakened to the point where he couldn’t even Apparate himself? He got up, took the man in his arms, and whisked him to his bedroom.

XXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

It was nearly dark when Tobias got home from work. Technically, got home from the pub he’d stopped at for a beer or two, something he liked to do from time to time, especially when Eileen wasn’t home to nag him about it. Severus wouldn’t dare open his trap, and he wouldn’t tell his mum, either, if he knew what was good for him. So he was a couple hours late, no big deal. It wasn’t like he was drunk. He hoped Severus had cooked something good, he was hungry.

He opened the door into a darkened room; the whole house, in fact, was dark and quiet. He detected no smell of food. Tobias swore under his breath. That brat hadn’t cooked anything, he was probably in his room with his nose in a book! Maybe a good wallop upside the head with one of those heavy schoolbooks would teach the boy to mind what he was told to do!

Tobias slammed the front door and stomped over to the children’s bedroom. The light was off, so he flicked it on. If he hadn’t heard Tina whimpering under the bed, he’d have thought the room empty. Great—no food, Severus nowhere in sight, and the twins hiding under their beds: what the hell had they been up to?

“Get out here!” he snarled. “Now!”

Julius and Justina scrambled out from under their beds and ran to cling to his waist, wrapping themselves so hard around him it almost hurt; it definitely alarmed him. This was far from common behavior. When they began to cry, his alarm turned to fear.

“What’s wrong? And where’s your brother?”

Both children began to talk at once in an almost unintelligible jumble.

“That man—”

“He tried to—”

“—hurt Severus—”

“—take me and—”

“—we put him—”

“—Severus fought—”

“Quiet!” Tobias bellowed. Surprisingly, it stopped not only the chatter, but the sobbing. “Julius, where is Severus?”

“He said Malfoy Manor,” the boy sniffed.

“Daddy,” Justina began, then broke out bawling again.

Tobias stroked her hair as he pulled the kids to him. He didn’t want them to see his outrage. Malfoy Manor? Had his firstborn run off for some forbidden entertainment at that bastard’s home? If he had, he’d get the beating of his life when he got back. Tobias stewed in his fury for a short time before considering the larger picture. Perhaps Severus would sneak off for a while if he thought he could get away with it, but would he leave his brother and sister alone like this, to become terrified and hysterical? No, he wouldn’t. He was too responsible, which meant he must have been coerced into going.

Forcing his voice to be calm, he addressed his son again. “You said there was a man. What did he do? Did he make Severus go with him?”

Julius shook his head violently. “He killed him! With the poker!” Tears streamed down his face, yet he made no sound.

Tobias froze. The blood ran out of his face. “The man…killed…Severus?”

Julius and Justina bobbed their heads together.

“But you said he went to Malfoy Manor,” their father murmured weakly. He felt like his legs would collapse beneath him.

“He stabbed Severus, and Severus made us put him in the fireplace. He didn’t come back.” Julius began to cry in earnest with hard, choking sobs.

My son is dead. Oh, my God, my son is dead. Tobias began to tremble from the horror of the news and the wrath burning in his chest. “Who did it? Do you know him?”

Without a word the twins led him into the living room. Tina flipped the light switch and both children pointed together at the corpse propped against the wall. The sight of him made Tobias recoil at first, then he bid the children stay where they were as he approached cautiously. The man was definitely dead; he looked as though his chest had been crushed with massive pinchers. Tobias reached out to feel the flesh…it was cold. In glancing around the room, he noted that every window had been smashed out and blood on the floor led a wide trail to the fireplace.

“Where’s the poker?” he asked softly.

“In—Severus’—belly,” Tina choked out.

“Oh, my God,” Tobias whispered as he dropped to his knees, fighting the urge to vomit. He’d wanted to believe the kids were exaggerating. A poker in the belly could not be construed as exaggeration. It was true, then. Severus was dead, and nothing would ever be the same. “How did he die?” He jerked a thumb at the body.

“I don’t know,” Julius said. He came over to hug his father, who was bent over clenching his stomach. Justina followed. “Severus yelled at us to go to our room. We heard glass breaking and came back. That bloke was there, dead, and Severus had the…” He didn’t finish.

Tobias wrapped a child in each of his quaking arms. When had this happened? The body was cold, it had to be quite a while ago. Was his son being murdered while he sat a block away at the pub? And the twins, seeing all this, left alone in the house with their brother’s killer! He dropped his head and began to weep.

Never had he imagined losing one of his babies, especially in such a horrible way. He loved his children, no matter what anybody else thought. He was hard on them, yes, but children need a firm hand, just like he’d had growing up. The times he’d knocked Severus around when he was drunk, he didn’t mean to hurt him. Severus understood that even if Eileen didn’t. Eileen! This news would crush her. How could he tell her their boy was dead when he couldn’t quite grasp it himself?

XXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

After Lucius helped his father onto his bed, he stepped away toward the door. The sight of the man so sickly looking, so suddenly frail bothered him immensely. Abraxas seemed oblivious to his son’s presence, and within moments had fallen into a deep slumber.

Lucius Apparated down into the sitting room where Severus lay. He stood beside the youth, gazing down at him, watching his chest rise and fall. The gashes and bruises on his face were gone. He looked peaked, but peaceful. He was alive. God willing, he’d stay that way.

He turned to speak to the Healer, who was seated nearby. “Healer Cullin, what has caused my father to become so feeble all of a sudden?”

“It worries you, does it?” the man replied with a knowing smile. The stone-faced young man before him may not be showing any emotion, but he could sense the apprehension all the same. “He performed a transfer spell, or should I say we performed it, as it requires a sacrifice and a witness to the sacrifice, myself being the witness.”

“What sacrifice?” asked Lucius.

“His life force. He gave it to that boy to keep him alive and to boost his ability to heal.”

Silence. Shocked silence. Lucius’ self-imposed mask began to slip. His eyes widened until white showed all around the gray and his mouth tipped open just a smidge. “Are you telling me my father is going to die in place of Severus?”

“No, young Malfoy. One can only sacrifice half the force. Your father was astonishingly healthy to start; he’ll be quite weak for several days, but fortunately he’s got plenty of potions to speed up the strengthening process.”

With unbounded relief Lucius lowered himself into the chair opposite the Healer, who was casually sipping a cup of tea. On the coffee table an elf had spread a variety of finger foods, from fruit to mini-sandwiches to dessert bars. A glance at the clock told him supper would soon be ready, meaning Narcissa would be home from visiting her aunt and uncle. If he was going to leave, he’d best do it forthwith. But first, he needed to know more.

“This sacrifice—why have I never heard of it?”

Healer Cullin shrugged one shoulder as if to say there were a multitude of things a young man his age hadn’t heard of. “It’s not a spell found in common source materials. Most Healers don’t even know of it.”

“Is it…Dark Magic?”

The man burst out laughing, nearly spraying his tea at Lucius. He dabbed at his lips with a handkerchief. “I’m sorry, son. If you want my opinion, it’s the highest form of Light Magic. One has to be willing to give of oneself freely. For example, I couldn’t take or give your life force, only my own.”

Father willingly sacrificed a part of himself for Severus, Lucius thought in amazement. Had the man done so for his son or a loved one, he could understand fully, yet Severus was dirt in Abraxas’ eyes. A halfbreed. Had his position as Healer trumped his disdain for those inferior to him, or was there more to it? He felt an ever deeper admiration for the man who’d always held his utmost respect.

Emotionless face back in place, Lucius rose. “Thank you, sir, for all you’ve done. Naturally, you’ll be generously compensated for your time and effort. For anything at all that you need, inform a house-elf. Dinner will be served shortly, I trust you’ll be there.”

“That depends on this young man,” answered Healer Cullin with a gesture toward Severus. “If he stays calm and asleep, I might risk it. If not, there’s more than enough right here.”

Lucius gave a small bow, then walked to the fireplace. The blood and pieces of poker were gone as if they’d never been. “Sisidy!” The house-elf popped in. “You’re coming with me. My father would be extremely unhappy if you let anything happen to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master Lucius! Sisidy never lets bad on Master Lucius!”

She gazed up at him with sincere affection, and he gently patted her head in return. Of the elves, she was his favorite, so unlike that wretched, psychotic Dobby that he despised, who throughout his childhood had delighted in spying on him and reporting his activities to Abraxas.

He motioned for her to get in the fireplace, then followed her in, took a handful of Floo powder, and said, “Snape residence, Spinner’s End.”

When they arrived in Severus’ home, Lucius already had his wand drawn. He didn’t know what had happened, but he had a good idea, and he intended to be prepared in the event he had to defend himself.

Tobias jerked his head toward the whooshing sound in the fireplace. A tall, blond young man stood there with some kind of deformed creature trying to look menacing in front of him. The youth’s fierce gray eyes lit on him and he strode over to the couch, where Tobias sat with the children. Tobias rose to meet him.

Lucius thrust his wand into Tobias’ cheek and growled, “I should kill you where you stand for what you did to Severus.”

“Who are you? Where is my son?” Tobias demanded, his voice cracking, completely ignoring the wand. If the wizard intended to kill him, he’d have likely done so by now.

A hint of a sneer curled Lucius’ lip. “Forgive me for neglecting formalities, but seeing my friends dying in front of me tends to have that effect.” He made a derisive bow, never lifting his wand from Tobias’ skin. “I am Lucius Malfoy. Your son came to my home dying from a fireplace poker rammed through him, but I suppose you know all about that, don’t you?” Lucius twisted the wand, digging it painfully into the flesh. “Now I’m going to make you pay.”

“Dad didn’t hurt Severus, he did!” squealed Julius as he leaped off the couch to grab Lucius’ arm. He pointed at the limp body of the intruder still sitting across the room.

Lucius looked in the indicated direction. In the filth of the decrepit hovel, he hadn’t bothered to try to discern one pile of junk from another and had completely failed to notice what was obviously a dead body flung against the wall. He lowered his wand. “Who is he?”

“Never saw him before,” Tobias answered.

Lucius continued to peer around the room. All the windows smashed out, some Muggle appliance shattered, the man’s chest caved in with no sign of entry wound. This was no ordinary death. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t here,” said Tobias almost defensively. Having been once accused of killing his son, maybe he had a right to be defensive. “The kids told me Severus was fighting him, then they heard an explosion of glass breaking, and that bastard was dead. Why didn’t you bring Severus back with you? He’s my son!”

“My father and a Healer worked for hours to save him. He can’t be moved.”

Tobias’ head whipped up, a whisper of hope dawning in his eyes. “He’s—he’s alive?”

“Barely, but yes.”

With a great exhalation of overwhelming emotion, Tobias burst into tears, hugging the twins to him again. “Thank God!” Conscious of the hostile wizard watching him through hooded eyes, he tried to pull himself together.

With a dismissive look at the other man, Lucius put his wand in a pocket of his robe, then ambled slowly around the room, observing everything carefully. The windows had blown out totally, not as if struck in a certain spot and broken. Vague scorch marks surrounded the sills. He paused at the great blood smear staining the floor, his mind raging; Severus had suffered so much in his short life.

Lucius pointed around the room. “Severus did this. It’s called unfocused magic. You see it in children, mostly, although not anywhere near this strong. When a wizard doesn’t have a wand, sometimes he throws out a burst of magic in times of stress. Until now I’d never heard of anyone being killed by it. Severus is a very powerful wizard.”

“So you’re sayin’ Severus killed that guy—with magic?”

“Yes.” Lucius paused again in front of the dead man, wrinkling his nose. He’d seen his share of dead bodies, more than his share of people killed before his eyes. The sight of this filthy Muggle who’d almost succeeded in murdering his best friend gave him no qualms whatsoever. “Why is this scum still here?”

“What am I gonna do with him?” exclaimed Tobias. “Call the coppers so they can arrest me? I’m waitin’ for Eileen to get home so she can do her witch stuff on him.”

Lucius rolled his eyes at the description. Witch stuff? “I’ll take care of it. Sisidy, fix the windows and clean up in here.”

The elf scurried to do as she was told, her magic instantly at work repairing a window pane and scrubbing it until it sparkled. Rightly assuming the house to be protected from unauthorized Apparition, Lucius took out his wand again, levitated the corpse out the back door into the pitch blackness, and with evident distaste grasped ahold of the man and Disapparated.

He’d thought to bury the filthy Muggle somewhere nearby, then reconsidered. If any chance existed of law enforcement finding him and connecting him to Severus, it was unacceptable. Instead, he ended up thousands of miles away, dropped the body in an ungracious heap in a remote desert-like area of the States, and Apparated once more. Assuming they found the body before vultures stripped it clean, there was no way anyone could suspect the impoverished skinny boy from Spinner’s End, who’d never even left his native England.

Lucius returned to find the house spotless and in perfect order. Any trace of bloodstains had been thoroughly removed, along with cleaning the entire floor. The windows shone brightly even in the dark. “Well done, Sisidy.” To Tobias he said, “He’s gone. This never happened. Where are the children?”

“I sent them to their room. Why?”

“I’m going to erase their memories of this. Unless you want them to remember,” he drawled snidely at the man’s look of reluctance at having magic used on his kids.

Tobias shook his head. It was bad enough they’d witnessed it at all; for them to harbor nightmares of it would be intolerable. Not to mention it wouldn’t do for them to be blabbing something like this around. “Don’t hurt them,” he warned, as if he had the capacity to wreak vengeance if Lucius did hurt them.

Lucius cocked an eyebrow and gave a contemptuous snort. “I’m not drunk, you needn’t fear.” He went into the children’s room.

“Luc—Mr. Malfoy, is Severus really alive like Dad says?” asked Julius, running up to him yet careful not to make contact.

“Yes, he is.” He motioned for the girl to join them. “Your dad thinks it best if I do a little charm on you both. Stand right where you are.” His wand pointed at Julius. “Obliviate.” He did the same to Justina, both of whom then blinked a few times and looked at him curiously.

“Who are you?” asked Justina.

“Lucius Malfoy. I’m a friend of Severus. He’s come to stay with me for a while because he’s kind of sick. As soon as he’s better, he’ll come back.” Staring into their innocent faces, for a fraction of a second he had the urge to drop the pretense and tell the whole truth, which of course would nullify the entire process. “I need to be going now.”

Back in the living room, he fixed Tobias with a haughty glare. “I suggest you return Severus’ wand to him upon his arrival. I’d hate to have something like this occur again. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, I will,” Tobias said, not because he felt threatened, but because he’d been blaming and berating himself since the moment he heard the news. Had Severus used his wand, all this might have been avoided. His own insecurities had nearly cost his son his life, and he couldn’t abide anything like this again. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, for all you’ve done. Thank your father and that Healer for us, will you? I never woulda thought Abraxas Malfoy had a decent side.”

Wrong thing to say, even on a good day. Today was not a good day. The haughty look on Lucius’ face morphed into an outright glower, and he came within an inch of losing his composure altogether. He gritted his teeth and seethed, “Don’t you dare speak ill of my father! He saved your son’s life! You know what you are? A lowly, abusive worm who’s jealous of a man your wife hasn’t seen since she was fourteen years old. You’re pathetic!”

He turned and stalked into the fireplace with Sisidy trotting right behind him, then spun around for a parting shot. “I know what you do to Severus, the way you treat him, and don’t try to tell me it’s discipline! Getting drunk and pounding the shit out of your kid isn’t discipline! I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Mr. Snape. If I find out you’re brutalizing your children again, I won’t hesitate to stop you. Keep that in mind.”

With a toss of Floo powder, he and Sisidy were gone.