Chapter Text
Severus
30 September 1994, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England
‘You will forgive me if I am...taken aback, by your reaching out to me regarding this matter.’
’I believe the situation requires a deft hand. You cannot pretend that you haven't noticed it.’
He had. The Dark Mark had become more pronounced with each passing day, and Severus would be lying if he said it didn’t worry him.
‘I see no cause for concern,’ he said anyway. ‘Should not we be glad of the return of our Lord?’
‘This isn’t about the Dark Lord, Severus. This is about my son.’
Severus traced a sallow finger along the rim of the wineglass, from which he had no intention to drink. He was sat in Malfoy Manor, having been summoned there by Lucius Malfoy. While he had rather hoped (and that was saying something, considering how much he loathed it) that Malfoy had only wanted a report on Draco’s marks and behaviour, those hopes had been abruptly dashed.
‘It’s getting brighter every day. Stronger,’ Lucius said. ‘My son… he is too young—’
‘Should you not be glad that our Lord is returning?’ he repeated. Years without the Dark Lord’s wrath to contend with had loosened tongues, it seemed. But there was no longer room for any folly; not with the Dark Lord's impending return looming over them all.
‘Do not play games with me, Severus. You know that Draco does not have the disposition that serving the Dark Lord would require.’
That, Severus thought, was irrevocably the truth. Draco Malfoy, while a decent student, was still an insufferable child, caught up in the minutiae of schoolboy politics and House Quidditch matches. He would not last particularly long were he to take the Mark. Except…
‘You know that when he returns, he will expect the Malfoys to fully support and serve him. All of the Malfoys.’
Lucius slid his goblet around in his grasp, as though absent of mind, before taking a sip of what Severus strongly suspected to be something rather more potent than the elderflower wine he’d been given upon his arrival.
‘The Dark Lord will not be particularly pleased with me, as you know,’ Lucius said at length. ‘So long as I can regain my position at his right hand, then this conversation will be rendered unnecessary. But the Dark Lord is… unpredictable.’ He paused and took a sip. ‘As you know,’ he repeated.
Severus ignored him.
‘He will want to know why you claimed the Imperius.’
Lucius sighed and seemed to deflate just a little bit, but he looked all the more human for it.
‘Quite.’
A pause. The silence deepened, lengthened, until Severus could have sworn under the influence of Veritaserum that he could hear Lucius’ thoughts churning from across the desk between them. It was as though one had unstoppered a Pensieve’s worth of memories, and left them to replay all at once.
‘I had a son to consider,’ Lucius said. ‘But the Dark Lord will not take kindly to that excuse.’
‘Why is it you’ve sought me out, Lucius? You know that once the Dark Lord has returned, I will not be able to help you.’
‘I am aware of your abilities, Severus.’
‘As is every member of the Dark Lord’s inner circle,’ Severus reminded him. ‘What of them?’
Lucius fixed a glare upon him then, and inflated back up to his fullest height.
‘I thought we were agreed that you should not play games with me,’ he said. ‘Teach him.’
‘Which?’
‘Both.’
Severus traced the mouth of his wineglass, around and around and around.
‘You mean for him to be collected?’
‘I would rather Draco be used as a valuable tool, than disposed of as a liability. Wouldn’t you?’
Around and around and around. Severus considered how much to reveal, how much to offer… But Lucius Malfoy, he knew, was a dangerous person to give any edge where previously he’d had none, and so he decided to keep his thoughts to himself.
He’d kept his betrayal, his true allegiance, a secret since before the Dark Lord’s fall. It would not do to reveal himself right before his Lord arose once more.
‘Very well,’ said Severus, after a lengthy pause for effect. ‘But you will owe me a favour.’
Lucius raised a brow, his business face back in place. ‘And what might that be?’
‘I haven’t yet decided,’ Severus drawled, before setting his untouched glass of wine on the desk between them and rising to his feet. ‘But you shall know the moment I have.’