After a delicious meal of French onion soup and stuffed pheasant, they retired to the main upstairs drawing room where a bottle of finest brandy and two glasses sat waiting.
"You know," Snape said as they settled themselves in comfortable armchairs, "there is only one question that the wizarding world wants answered right now."
"And that would be?" Lucius sipped his brandy.
"What are your intentions?"
"Is that really all they care about?"
"Well, your display this week wasn't exactly going to leave people, especially the press, without questions." He shot back. "And don't think I haven't noticed the new ring she's wearing."
"Nothing has been said." Lucius shook his head. "For all I know, she could pack her bags and leave tomorrow."
"Nothing has ever been said?" Snape could not believe that, for all her fire, she had said nothing.
"Not one syllable."
"And yet she still stands and defends you." Snape refilled his glass.
"Indeed." He swirled the rich, tawny coloured alcohol slowly around the glass.
"I think that's as good an indication as any."
"Oh I know how I feel, Severus, I just worry lest I misjudge her."
"Why?"
"I don't believe that I've ever felt this way about another person." Lucius explained. "I mean, I was married to Narcissa but there was never anything like this there."
"Well, it was no secret that your union with Narcissa was motivated, not by love, but by a quest for blood purity." Snape was quite frank. "I mean, your parents were still alive, as were hers, and it was in her interests to make a good marriage and it was in yours to have a good, pure-blood wife."
"Very true." Lucius was in no position to deny this as his father had given him a long talk on how he had to marry the right woman. "I did what was required of me."
"It is a rare thing that such marriages result in love," Snape went on, "that is why so many pure-blood men took mistresses."
"I was sure my father had one, yes," Lucius laughed, "but I never found any proof."
"Miss Potter, however, has come from a completely different background to you. She was born into a loving family and, although that was taken from her, she has grown up with loving friends."
"You seem to have given this a lot of thought, my friend, for having known about it for such a short time." Lucius refilled his glass.
"There has been precious little else on people's minds."
"True."
"Now, as I was saying, her capacity to love sets her apart from others. After all she has been through, surviving death and the Dark Lord many times, and surviving everything you put her through; it is amazing that she still has the capacity to feel anything more than despair."
"I won't deny that I have wronged her."
"But despite it all, she still loves. I know the Dark Lord mocked Dumbledore's obsession with the feeling, but it is true. It is love that saved her and her brother, it was the thought of those they loved that gave them the courage to walk into death's arms and it is love that saved them again. They died to save those they loved, thus protecting them."
"I," Lucius wanted to speak but could find nothing to say. Instead, he allowed Snape to continue.
"And I suspect that you were motivated by something more than normal concern when you lied to the Dark Lord. You knew that it could potentially cost you your life, yet you still lied. And again, once it was all over, you took it upon yourself to save her."
"I couldn't leave her," Lucius shook his head, "I had already watched her die once and the pain of it was terrible, as if part of me had died with her. And apart from that, she was in far worse shape than her brother, and would not have survived such injuries if left unattended."
"Stop trying to rationalise feelings which you don't fully understand." Snape chided him. "I tried, pretending that my feelings for Lily Potter were nothing more than desire." Snape shook his head. "I have spent the past twenty years grieving her loss, and will spend the rest of my life doing so."
"How can I be sure she feels the same way though?" Lucius asked. "There are so many men out there, younger than I am, and with infinitely better reputations."
"I think she would have left before now, had that been the case." Snape shook his head. "If she is anything like her mother, and I think she is in many ways, you do not want to let her go."
"You let Lily go."
"I was blinded by prejudice and determined to prove myself to people like you. I wanted to be accepted by someone, to have friends. I am ashamed of the things I said to her, and what my information eventually led to." Snape's voice wavered and he poured himself some more brandy. "Do not let her go or, mark my words, you will regret it for the rest of your life. I know it sound clichéd but that is the simple fact of it; I have lived with that pain my entire life."
"But if I say anything and end up locked away in Azkaban for the rest of my life?" he theorised. "That will cause her undue pain."
"But think of the pain you cause by saying nothing."
"But I show her how I feel, I mean, the things I have given her; the jewels, the dresses. I have bought her things without reason."
"Sometimes showing it is quite far from what is required." Snape shook his head.
"But I rarely did that with Narcissa, she had grown up with couture gowns for balls since she was fifteen. It does mean something. She tells me off for doing it but I can't help myself."
"Why do you still do it then?"
"Because I like the look on her face." He shrugged. "I like seeing her smile."
"Did it ever occur to you that she tells you off because the only thing she really wants from you is to hear you say how you feel, instead of laying diamonds around her neck in lieu of words?" Lucius could not reply.
"You know Lucius," Snape said after a moment of silence, refilling his friend's glass as he did so, "you might turn out to be quite the anomaly of your family."
"Why?"
"Well, apart from the fact that she is more powerful than you, how many Malfoys have been in a relationship based on love?" Snape asked. "I'd wager not that many."
"Your point being?"
"I do believe that, like her mother's love saved her, it is her love that will save you."
"How do you mean?" Lucius asked sceptically. "I doubt anything can save me now."
"It humanises you. For example, had Bellatrix Lestrange come to trial, there would be no one from the side of light, as it were, to fight for her. Of course, thanks to Molly Weasley, we will not have to witness such a farcical event."
"I would go as far as to suggest what they are putting her through is bordering on farcical though."
"But she speaks the truth?"
"Every word." Lucius nodded. "She has nothing to fear from the truth as she has done nothing wrong."
"I find it hard to believe that she could remain so steadfast, considering the great pressure she was under." Snape confessed. "I would have thought breaking her would've been easy, especially for you."
"Apparently I was wrong," he shrugged, sipping his brandy, "she never gave up anything, no matter how much pain I caused. So I gave up. She broke me."
"I gathered." Snape nodded. "Yet she still remained after that."
"I did not understand that either, but remain she did, and I am very glad of the fact."
"So, with that in mind, what are your intentions?"
"I'm hers if she'll have me." Lucius looked him straight in the eye.
"I thought as much." Severus could see no lie in his eyes.
"That bridge, however, is yet to be crossed." He shook his head. "I could not ask her such a thing when my future is uncertain."
"And what of an heir?" Snape asked curiously. "After all, Draco has turned out to be quite a disappointment, and is likely to be spending the rest of his life in Azkaban."
"I cannot deny that the thought has not crossed my mind but, again, it is too early to be thinking about such things."
"But what if, Lucius, what if?"
"Well, if, and this goes no further than this room, if she were to bear my child, I would make sure I did a damn sight better job than I did with Draco." Snape was quite taken aback by how candid he was being. "And I shall have a proper family, not one held together by nothing but a sense of duty."
"A noble sentiment."
"The truth." Lucius shook his head.
"You know it will not be received well." Snape reminded him. "No matter when it happens."
"It could be seen as bridging the gap, healing the wounds," Lucius suggested, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, "making a break from the past and showing the world that I am serious."
"Or simply a former Death Eater trying to rebuild his reputation, but still seeking the most beautiful, most powerful witch who is as good as pure-blood." Snape shook his head. "She would be vilified as a traitor, committing what some people would consider as the worst act of treason. Think of what she stands for, of all she has fought for."
"She has fought for me." Lucius countered. "What else are people going to expect?"
"I don't know. Even if they can see it coming, they will reject it. People are like that." Lucius knew that Snape was right. "And if you do marry her, you do realise that I will be infinitely jealous."
"Why?"
"You'd get to marry the image of the woman I loved." Snape admitted.
"My apologies in advance." Despite his long friendship with Severus, Lucius had never known of his love for the woman whose sacrifice had, in effect, saved so many.
"Don't worry," Snape shook his head, "I am content to watch over her, less so her brother because he can be rather vexing. In time, I hope she will allow me to think of her as the daughter I never had."
"Be careful," Lucius laughed, "I feel the brandy has loosened your tongue. You'd best be careful who you disclose things like this too otherwise your reputation will be lost, and then who will students fear?"
"Well it's true, and I trust you never to repeat any of this." Snape smirked back at his friend. "But no, if I had a daughter, she would be the kind of daughter I would want."
"You're going soft, Severus old friend."
"What about you?" Snape replied incredulously. "I'd hardly think you are one to talk. I laugh at the thought of what Bellatrix would say if she were still alive, and of what the others will be saying."
"Indeed, I am glad that she derives pleasure from pushing Fudge around as that has guaranteed me some measure of security in Azkaban." Lucius explained. "I am kept separate, although not that far, and in marginally better accommodation than the rest."
"I'd wager they don't take to that kindly."
"No, they do not. I hear them screaming for me in the night." He confessed. "Screaming for my blood. They have managed to get hold of newspapers, they know what happened. They call out in the dead of night what they will do to her should they ever escape," his voice shook with anger, "and how they will make me watch."
"Well, to them you are now worse than the Weasleys and all other so-called blood traitors. You knowingly prevented their death at the hands of the Dark Lord," Snape shrugged, "and because of that, they went on to victory."
"I just worry; that after all that she has been though, she still needs to be protected. At the moment, that protection is from the public at large, until they get it into their stubborn heads that she has done nothing wrong."
"I think that, after taking on the Dark Lord and winning, a handful of Death Eaters should be child's play. Besides, there is no Dark Lord to help his followers escape, and no one else has ever got out, save of course Sirius Black."
"I just want her safe." He sighed. "I feel guilty that she cannot walk freely, after fighting for her freedom for so long."
"She does walk freely," Snape corrected him, "people have learned to let her do so." Walking over to his desk, Lucius unlocked one of the hidden drawers and pulled out a few sheets of paper that appeared to be newspaper clippings.
"Come with me." Puzzled as to his intentions, Snape followed his friend through to the vast, long hallway that was the portrait gallery.
"Could you see her there?" he asked, nodding at where Narcissa's portrait presently hung.
"I don't know." Snape shrugged. "It is quite a place to fill."
"The thing is, I can." He handed Snape the pieces of paper, which turned out to be images of her clipped from the Prophet. One was the photo of them taken at the World Cup, the other of her alone; smiling for the cameras at Fudge's Christmas reception. Snape didn't want to admit it, but he could see her there too.
"I think," Snape finally said after several moments' silence, "I think it would suit her well."
"I'm glad you think so." He placed the clippings on a small table before walking thoughtfully down the hall, gazing at the generations of Malfoys that looked down on him. Snape followed him as he meandered along, eventually reaching the imposing doors to his suite of rooms. Pushing the heavy door open, Lucius walked inside with Snape at his heels. She was still there, barely moved since he left her, swathed in the darkness made by the hangings.
"But how do you undo so much wrong?" he asked. "How do you make things right?"
"I don't know," Snape shook his head, "but I doubt that she would be here if she thought you had still to make amends." Giving his friend a pat on the back, he turned to leave.
"Thank you, Severus," Lucius said, just as Snape crossed the threshold, "you are a good friend." With a small nod of acknowledgement, Snape closed the door behind him.
Waving his wand, the curtains that were hanging down one side of the bed returned to their original position. Gazing into the grand mirror above the fireplace, the clock struck twelve, and he pondered what he and Severus had talked about. He worried that telling her such things would only make it harder for her to cope when the Wizengamot finally decided his fate. But, on the other hand, he did not want her to think that he did not care for her.
"I do not deserve you." He sighed to himself, gazing at her reflection in the mirror.
"Yes you do." A quiet voice murmured after a few moments. Quite startled, he turned around to see her stirring beneath the duvet.
"Sorry," he apologised as she rubbed her eyes blearily, "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's alright," she shook her head, "I was half awake anyway."
"Are you feeling alright?"
"Much better," she smiled, "are you coming to bed?" she asked, stretching out teasingly and adjusting her pillows.
"I'll be through in a minute." When he returned, in his pyjama bottoms, she was sat up in bed with her arms draped over her knees.
"So what have you been up to all this time?" she asked, gazing at him over the top of her glasses as she absent-mindedly fiddled with the embroidery on the duvet cover.
"Severus called and he stayed for dinner," he shrugged, "nothing much really."
"Did he have anything interesting to say?" she asked curiously.
"Not really, although he was surprised that you hadn't persuaded the Wizengamot to keep me under house arrest." He slipped in beside her.
"Well, I could try, but I would actually have to do some digging and find the things they don't want people to know." She smirked, lying back down next to him. "That might work quite well when all it took was a very slight hint of a threat to get you home for the weekend."
"Well, that's for another time." He murmured, extinguishing the lamps. "I thought you needed sleep."
"I've had sleep," she murmured back, her lips meeting his in the dark, "you may need to tire me out again." She pushed her body flush up against his. He didn't know when she had done it, but her pyjamas were quite notably missing.
She tasted brandy on his lips as he kissed her, his arms holding her tight to him, as if he would never let go.
"You've been drinking." She murmured with a smirk, tangling her hands in his hair.
"You're not one to talk." He shot back as his hands moved lower.
"Oh you're cruel, I only mean-"she did not finish her sentence properly, however, losing the ability to talk as he touched her.
"I know you've had rest but aren't I allowed some?" he asked, pulling slightly away. "Azkaban isn't the most restful of places."
"Oh, alright then," she looked quite taken aback and turned to face away from him, pulling the covers over her shoulders, "goodnight." He reached out for her but she shuffled further away, her arms wrapping protectively about her waist. Frustrated with himself for annoying her when they had precious little time together, he laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, hoping that she would come round. Kathryn heard his sigh and smirked to herself, waiting for the opportune moment. After about ten minutes, he sounded like he was just about drifting off to sleep she waited another ten until she was absolutely sure and then she made her move.
Sliding slowly across the mattress, she gently stroked a hand through his hair whilst she whispered in his ear.
"Of course," the words seemed to drift through his ears like a dream, "I'm surprised that you turn down such amusement," the hand gently touching his chest was definitely real, "when there is such pleasure to be had." The hand moved lower, its pace infuriatingly, deliberately slow, until he knew this could not possibly be a dream.
His eyes opened to meet hers, wide and full of desire, his breath coming in gasps as she placed a chaste kiss on his lips.
"I knew you'd yield eventually." She murmured in his ear, smirking as he reacted so well to her attentions. He could not offer any words of reply.
"But of course if you'd rather sleep," she pulled away suddenly, much to his annoyance, "I understand." Her face lit up as his hands reached for her and firmly pulled her back across the mattress to him.
With her back tight against his chest, his hands eagerly repaid her the favour, and he delighted in the way she writhed against him as a flush crept into her cheeks. She moved with him as he manoeuvred into a kneeling position on the mattress, wrapping her legs around him and rocking her hips as her head lolled backwards in utter rapture. He held her close, moving slowly, languidly even, determined to make it last as long as possible. She did not complain, enjoying they way he held her tight; his hands roaming every inch of her body as if trying to commit it to memory. She did the same, her hands tracing the gentle contours of his face, despite the fact that she already knew them by heart.
He didn't know if she had ever been as intoxicating, or whether it was his long conversation with Severus that had made him desire her even more. Maybe it was time to admit feelings he had kept secret for some time.
She was finding it difficult to stay focused as their lips met in kiss after fiery kiss. Everything about this felt so right, from the way he would smile at her from across the room, to the way he held her in the dark hours of the night. She had always told herself that she had to be careful to whom she gave her heart, yet he had stolen it from her without her even noticing.