InsaneJournal

    He was totally fed up of losing consciousness every two seconds, like some kind of utterly Hufflepuffian heroine, in a dreadfully Lockhart-ish melodrama!
-Belt up man!- He thought to himself as he came, so very slowly, back to the cold reality of full awareness: -It was only a little head-butt and you unravelled like a bloody lightweight! Bella would have laughed you right out of the Lord's presence in a second, with that kind of weakling performance...!-

' Come on, Severus! I know you are awake! Stop stalling and open those eyes of yours, so that I can congratulate you on your excellent battle skills! ' The drawling interruption to his totally aggravated thoughts brought him up short.
    He'd recognised the aristocratic voice at once, of course. Felt immediately at ease knowing that it's owner was so close, but had absolutely no intention of revealing himself conscious -in any shape or form- before he could ascertain the exact level of strength he had recovered and the position of that utter bastard, Potter!

' Oh! For Merlin's sake! He is not here right now! They've got him in a private room downstairs. Suffering through a complete course of Skele-Gro: because the damage you did to his nose -magic-less and half-dead as you are, my friend!- could not be reversed with a simple Episkey, unlike my own obviously totally pathetic effort granted, not even five hours ago! '

His eyes shot open in total incredulity:
' You punched Potter? ' His astonished blinking was enough to bring a slightly rueful smile to Luc's irritatingly attractive features.

' I agree that I would have caused far more damage with a wand, obviously! But you know them, Gryffindors!, for all that supposedly undaunted courage that they can't stop boasting about, they turn surprisingly Slytherin when they know there'll be trouble...
He accioed our wands the second Draco and I walked into the emergency room. Lacked the balls to tell us exactly what was wrong with you, until he'd already disarmed us! '

    There was a brief second of silence. Luc's cold gaze freezing, like the Arctic, when his very clear grey eyes settled over the ward enveloping his arm with sombre, unnerving intensity:
 
' Probably saved me from a rather long stint in Azkaban, that. I don't know what I would have done -had I still been in command of my magic- when he told us that he'd drained you! '
    Luc's patrician features twisted into a mask that reminded him, quite suddenly, of old Abraxas and that mad bastard had been unnervingly creepy, even in his good days!.

    Shivering uneasily, in reaction to the memories, he pondered the frosty tone of those last few words. They: together with the very revealing clench of the blonde's elegant fingers around that, overly decorated, wand-holder that he treasured, told Severus that there had been trouble indeed. Trouble with a capital T!
Still... It was amazing. He couldn't even imagine his prissily haughty friend willingly descending into the “distasteful disgrace of muggle fist-fights “  for any reason whatsoever! Let alone in his behalf...

' You... You punched Potter? ' he repeated stupidly, once again, and was brought right out of his daze when the pale, grey eyes narrowed -into an aggravated sort of defensiveness- that broke into irritated life with Luc's next comment:

' Yes, I did punch the mighty Savior himself! Not as effectively as your own flawless attempt, of course! But then, in my defence, let me remind you that I did what I could, considering...
Muggle violence is just... Ewww!... I simply lack the words! '

    Severus sighed. Half a minute of Luc's usual shenanigans and he was already tempted to jump right off a cliff!
' So... Potter's out of the way! Good. Now, maybe, you can tell me what the Hell is going on! But first...: I want to ask you a very important question, Lucius '

His friend inclined eagerly forward in the chair. Luminous silver eyes alert and solemn.
' Yes! Draco said you'd need to. That you are still in war-mode. It's quite... distressing... to see, after all this time of peace. But then you've been... impervious... to it all for four long years! '

    Their eyes locked and he swallowed with difficulty. Unwillingly trapped, as he was, on the receiving end of a well of deep pity. There were many things that only Luc had ever dared to give him without fear of reprisals and genuine, sorrow-filled commiseration for his miserable luck in life, had always been one of them.

    The silence between them turned expectant. The very polished image of his aristocratic friend remained poised for imminent action, almost at the very edge of his seat.
    The seconds stretched too long as his own mind grappled with the idea that: if this man proved himself to be the real Lucius... If there were neither apparent nor imagined plots against him, being put into action by some, still unidentified, enemies -and Potter. Let's not forget Potter!-... Then, he'd truly find himself at sea in this strange world!
    Reality would cease to make any sense at all! His life: as it had been, as he remembered it, would now become an obsolete set of memories, already left behind by those surrounding him.
    His throat closed with unease and he could not have found his voice, for all the gold in Gringots!

' Oh! For Merlin's sake, Severus! Stop that melodrama right this second, will you?... '
Luc's impatience came, as usual, to his rescue. Or to hinder his still floundering efforts even more. His friend tended to be... a very uncertain source of either: mayor trouble or ringing success, with wearying indiscrimination between both.

    Long blond hair swung in a blinding arch of silver coloured locks, when their increasingly eager owner dragged himself -chair and all- even closer to the bed and that voice, that he'd known most of his life, broke the tense silence, without so much as a by-your-leave:

' How about this:..? My pride and joy was relating his encounter with you this afternoon, when I found myself very confused, indeed, by his reported answer to the question you asked of him.
    YOU!, cunning old bastard that you are!, told ME that the first potion you were going to teach him was the Fever-Reducer Philtre! '

-Oh, no!- He recognised the dangerous quality of Luc's tone. Could tell that, any second now, he'd be accused of some incredibly ridiculous fault of his -in the most irrational manner!- and was, quite frankly, much too exhausted to put up with it.

' Lucius... '

' I asked him to show me the results of his labours at the time and, his utterly confused look led me to believe that he had, somehow, flunked the potion!.
    Because of your irrationally paranoid nature, Severus Snape!: I have spent more than a decade wrestling with the -awful!- idea that my precious son failed most abjectly!, in his very first attempt to shine within the field of his choice! '

-Yep!-, his friend was in full drama-mode... Taking a deep breath he attempted, once more, to still the flow:
' Lucius...  ' And it proved to be, of course, an utter waste of energy!

' I have tip-toed over the issue, like a chicken avoids pebbles! I have been teased, TEASED! with Draco's supposed failure, because I was so distraught at the time, that I let the information slip within hearing of the most dreadfully jealous kind of hangers-on...! '

    His eye started to twitch, with the very first hints of the headache approaching his poor, struggling mind at top speed, and he attempted -once again- to halt the onslaught of Luc's depressingly long diatribe.
' Lucius... I'm sorry but I...'

' You are sorry? You. Are. Sorry? You should be more than sorry, my friend! You should be absolutely devastated, at the very least! '

His teeth gritted and he took a single -very deep!- breath.
' You are behaving like a bloody bimbo again, Malfoy! ' he attempted to use “The Growl” and only managed a shameful screech, but it didn't matter. He'd achieved what he wanted and now sombre, focused Lucius was back with a vengeance.

' THAT was totally uncalled for! '

Swallowing a hiccuping, hysterical laugh he pointed out crossly:
' You were driving me insane! '

Luc's perfectly rosy, pink lips compressed in indignation.
' My apologies, then! I seem to have forgotten just how unpleasantly grumpy you are when you wake up! '

    A peeved paused seemed to bring some sense of proportion to that twisted, aristocratic mind and Luc's very next words were offered with far less venom:
' I should have waited before berating you. You can't be feeling well enough to argue, in any case. You have been... greatly harmed, after all '

    A lump the size of Hogwarts settled right over his throat and crushed it mercilessly. Black eyes blinked very slowly as he looked away.
Silence was all he could offer to the uncomfortable acknowledgement that now... Now he was nobody. A magic-less freak. A squib. A useless walking wounded...

    The shield over his broken arm glimmered it's warning blue sparks, when he banged the useless limb against the mattress, in his clumsy attempt to raise himself into a seated position.

    Haughty grey eyes looked on, from under narrowed pale lids, and their owner's tone turned gruff with unamused exasperation when he finally pointed out:
' You could have asked me to give you a hand, you know? Just because you could achieve the same result if you struggle all by yourself, like some weird kind of one-armed, half-broken mound of sheer pride and crazy stubbornness, doesn't mean that you have to, Severus!
No one is going to think any less of you, for allowing yourself to be helped, every now and then! '

    He sagged against the mountain of pillows covering the headboard. A thin layer of cold sweat bathing his temple, in response to the strain he'd just put his, apparently, seriously weakened muscles trough. But he ignored all of that for the moment.
    One ragged breath led to another and the silence grew into something not so friendly, but frustrated, any longer. Nor even just... plainly uncomfortable, either. It had changed into that utterly blank nothingness of sudden -and unwelcome- realisation.

' You are still uncertain... Are you not? You haven't called me Luc since you woke up! '

    His jaw locked in obstinate refusal to feel guilty for his caution. Anyone could have polyjuiced themselves into Malfoy and entered this drattedly exposed room!
' You chose the test. I can not trust it! There could be a million explanations as to how you knew the name of the first potion I told you I'd teach Draco! '

    There was a heartbeat of silence. Cold and sad and filled to the brim with about a million memories of trickery.
' You think I came prepared... That I'm an enemy. Your enemy! '

Ebony coloured eyes clashed with grey.
' I think that you are a very convincing Lucius Malfoy '

    A chuckle fell between them, then: rueful and caustic at the same time. A signature sound that was so Luc's that it brought goose-bumps to the skin on the back of his neck.

' Go ahead then, Severus. Choose your test! '

    The soft crimson-tinged  light, coming in from the half-opened windows, turned that platinum hair to silver thread and his eyes lost themselves in the very exquisite beauty of it. Unable, as he was, to sustain Luc's hard grey stare a second longer...

' I remember something you once said to me, not long after you met Narcissa Black for the first time...
    We coincided with her at Goyle's summer state: we both having been invited, with a bunch of other third years, to Geoff's birthday party.
Narcissa was there. She'd been forced to accompany Bella, for propriety's sake, because of the sheer amount of boys who'd been invited to that party...and she...
She was doing something awful: running around barefooted and throwing the apples from the orchard at the old man's prized swans. Do you remember what you told me, then? '

    Luc's haughty expression turned soft with recollection. Silver shards of emotion flashing, like slowly melting diamonds, within his uncannily smoke-coloured irises.
' It wasn't Goyle's party, Severus. It was Crabbe's. And she'd been throwing mud-shots at the birds, not apples.
But she was barefooted. And laughing. I'd never seen, before, something so carefree...!
    I told you, then, that I'll marry her or no one! That a woman who could besmirch, in such a manner, the aching beauty of a white swan, would not be enthralled so easily by my own.
I told you that I wanted to be... cared for... in spite of my outward appearance! That, when the love a man inspires, turns out to be only skin deep, nothing on Earth can save it from destruction! I told you that I refused to endure my father's fate...
And I have never, before or after!, repeated that same sentiment aloud. Not even to her!
To disparage my parent's marriage in such a manner was, at the very least, disrespectful of me!'

' I know that, Luc... '

    He offered the soothing acknowledgement in a quiet, choked whisper. There was something like relief clamping his lungs. Something joyful and, at the very same time, utterly terrifying in the knowledge that his friend, his crazy friend!, was truly here. In the flesh: Alive and well, after their harsh ride through those last, bitterly dark years...
    To finally accept that they both had, surprisingly, made it to the other side of Voldermort's sick war was just... plainly liberating!

' Luc...! '
    He used the name in wonder. In a softly reverent, astonished, half-breath... and received a glowing smile, in return, that left him dazzled.

' Yes, Severus, we've made it, my friend! He is dead and we are alive! We are both well. We are safe. And we are also worry free -now that you've, finally!, decided to wake up!- '

    They both laughed. Locked together in a strange moment of utterly childish relief. Of uncomplicated happiness. Of silent, heartfelt gladness...

' How is Cissy? ' He rasped the question suddenly into the silence. A shiver of cold fear running down his spine, in the blink of an eye, at the realisation that he... he had seen Draco. And Luc. But not her: Not. Her!

' She's gone home in a huff! Didn't much like it when she found Potter and I “brawling” down the corridor. One disgusted look at my swollen eye was all it took her to decide, there and then, that she'd had enough “masculine nonsense” for the day! Didn't even have the decency to congratulate me, in the fine achievement of breaking the idiot's nose with absolutely No Magic! '

    Severus was too relieved to chuckle at the obvious attempt at humour and the moment turned serious in the blink of an eye. No one else had ever read his changing moods quite as accurately as Luc.

    Silence fell, once again, between them both. But it had a peaceful quality this time: a moment of respite to allow him time to ponder on the thoughts crossing his mind.
    His wound throbbed almost constantly on his neck. Not as painfully as it had done, while he'd been still trapped in Azkaban, but still troubling enough to remind him that he... He'd believed himself dead. Or, at least dying, during the final hours of the battle.

' What happened, Luc? '

    The neutral expression in his friend's intent features vanished at once. Pale grey eyes searching his own face, with measuring intensity.
' What do you know -or think you know-, exactly, Severus? '

    He pondered the question for a moment. Whirling memories of half-remembered moments flashing through his mind's eye...
He thought back to Nagini: Huge, wet fangs dripping with dark venom, sinking into his neck... He remembered the awful pain: deeply corrosive, unendurable and quite weakening. He had memories of blood. Of Potter. Of his own increasing desperation to deliver the message that would kill the both of them: The Dark Lord and Lily's child... Impossible to save one, without allowing the other to... remain...!
He remembered waking up afraid. Alone. The dark walls of Azkaban closing in on him. He remembered weeks of numbness. And terror. And fear. He remembered Peterssen...
Then, the world had just exploded into chaos and there had been nothing but... THIS...!

' I don't really know how to answer that question, Luc. I... I don't know what to think! ' Deep frustration overcame him and he sighed. Flopping back, against the pillows, like an old and ruffled cat ' It all comes back to the boy, Doesn't it? That's the only thing clear enough to me! '

    Luc smiled in response. One long leg coming to rest, with elegant flair, over the other leg's knee.
' Should I assume that “ the boy! ” refers to our esteemed Saviour, Severus? '

A barely-there inclination of his head was good enough to encourage Luc into further speech:
' Your unfailing ability to reduce, any given set of circumstances, to their most essential truth remains -as always- a constant source of wonder to me, my friend!
    I'd have to agree with you there, though: POTTER happened...!
He won the war, you see... And, when he did not die, his fame shot into the stratosphere, almost overnight! '

' As if that brat needed any more attention! ' He muttered under his breath, with bitter resentment. Not really caring for these news but, equally, unsurprised by them.

    Luc's head turned very slightly to the left. Thoughtful eyes alert with mirth and questions, both.
' His favour saved my family from a truly ugly fate, Severus! Cissy did him a good turn at the last second. Told the Lord that the boy was dead and that... stupid!... Half-Blood! went ahead and believed a fierce woman, whose family he'd threatened for so long! Turns out Potter was alive and planning his very welcome demise. This time for good! '

    Severus's eyes clashed with Luc's own. Ebony depths filling, at last!, with understanding.
' So the boy protected Cissy in return, didn't he?'  The question abandoned his lips: more certainty than query. He could see Albus's pet hero behaving thus. Yes!, Potter... Potter would have been generous to those who'd helped him...

    Blond head shook in confirmation and he saw his friend's lips curve, in a small rueful smile.
' He helped Draco too. Saved my son from a truly ghastly fate, during the battle! '

    The uncharacteristic shudder that raked Lucius's frame brought back the memory of a claim the repellent auror had made:
' Did Draco really -almost- fall victim to Fiendfyre? '

    Horrified dark eyes glazed with distress on the receiving end of Luc's jerk of assent. He could not imagine a death more excruciating... and to know, without a doubt, that such a fate could have befallen his godchild...

' I, myself, had taken steps to protect my own interests in case of discovery. I am sure you remember what they were. You were there, when the brilliance of my plot suddenly struck me, after all! And it worked like Magic, by the way. Despite your irritating certainty that it wouldn't! '

    His thoughts whirled, thankfully!, away from nightmare-inducing images of his godson: being swallowed alive by cursed fire. And he turned an appraising look in Luc's direction.
' I have to assume, then, that Macnair never made it...  '

    A slight shrug of wide shoulders emphasised a response as unapologetic as it was harsh.
' Colin Creevy's wand, I believe '

    His mind shorted, in sheer shock, at that detail and he turned disbelieving eyes to his companion:
' Creevy's? That is impossible! Colin Creevy was as useless as he was strange! He would have, never!, managed to take out Mcnair! '

    Luc's expression didn't waver in the slightest, but his tone turned frosty and very careful: Pointed.
' I have nothing to add, officially, to that -very accurate- assessment! '

    Severus heard, loud and clear, the words his friend kept back. Macnair... he'd been a brutal sadist of the worst kind and, although he'd known the man since they both had been eleven, he found himself unable to feel more than vague neutrality about his death. He was gone and Luc was out of prison... all in all, the better man had triumphed in this case.
' And the elf? '

    Incredulous laughter broke out across the room.
' The elf?! Severus, I can't believe you've just asked me that ridiculous question! The elf is at home, of course! Or are you implying that there was, even the most remote possibility, that any of the ministry paper-pushers -unimaginative as they are- would have ever suspected ME! of bullying one of my own house elves, into forcing Walden Macnair to “Imperius” me -yearly, no less!- into the Dark Lord's service? '

    Dark eyes flickered slowly as his head shook in accord.
' I agree that your thought process on the matter was singularly twisted, Luc. That's precisely why I never thought it had any chance of working! '

    A silence followed. A small quiet-filled second in which he was forced to endure the utterly satisfied expression of his oldest friend, reflected all over the devastatingly handsome face.
' So... no one ever found out. Did they even bother to check Mcnair's wand?'

    Luc's snort was both derisive and triumphant. Unholy mirth bringing silver shards of pleasure to his cold and pale grey gaze.
' Of course they checked the wand! They were so very eager to call me a liar, that it was almost... too easy!... to “prove” them wrong!
    Hermione Granger, Merlin bless her pious heart! Insisted, rather forcibly, on having all of us -“Death Eaters”- judged in specially open sessions of the Wizzengamont...
All kinds of new and “fairer” laws were hastily passed, in order to make their “justice” more... ethical! I couldn't have planned it better, if I had written those ridiculously hufflepuffian laws myself!'

   Black eyes glowed in shocked, wonder-filled understating, when a picture: a truly ironic picture!, of exactly what had happened began to -finally!- form within his mind.
' Ethical laws... like... like the muggles...! Granger... Of course!... '

    Luc's smile was wide. Cold blooded. The expression in his face reminiscent of a shark's after a successful hunt.
' It all worked like a dream in my favour. I even received a public apology at the end of it all!, since I had been -initially- imprisoned on Potter's word alone, while “obeying” My Lord's orders under the Imperius! '

    He was stunned at the idiocy of the ministry.
' I can't believe it! A second war comes along, with you on the losing side: again!, and they fall for the same trick line, hook and sinker!... '

    An elegant blond eyebrow waggled at him.
' It was a rather good trick, Severus. A true masterpiece of great cunning and ingenuity! '

    He had to laugh at that. Truly. Only a Malfoy would have bet his whole future on that kind of wild card and come out triumphant!

' So you walked out with an apology and I ended up in Azkaban! That's just...! ' His words came to an abrupt halt. Parched throat raw with the injustice of it all. Bitterness engulfed him, so suddenly, that he was not at all prepared to conceal it and it shone, like lethal poison, through every whispered syllable when he added helplessly ' I don't even know what that is!... '

    Silence burned the air between them with the resentment pounding through his every vein. Pouring off from his rigid form, in wave, upon wave!, of disgust.

' No, Severus! That was not how it happened, at all! You are not even close, old friend! '
Luc's tone had just gone softer with concern. Beautiful pale face taut, with barely concealed worry, and a regret that shone clear, like pure water, in those smoke coloured eyes.

' Potter went crazy over you. But you were... asleep!... for such a long time!. Your court case simply... didn't happen!
Nobody wanted to be the first to say it needed to go through, and you... you were not even conscious! It was easier to continue with life, as usual, and let it all go! By the point when you started to show signs of waking, they tried to rush the hearing, but there wasn't enough time! '

He understood the words, but their truth burned him within an Inferno of bottomless resentment:
' They allowed me to rot in Azkaban! ' He growled at the top of his voice, enraged with them all for their betrayal, and Luc flinched. Truly flinched, in his seat.

' No. NO! They only took you there, once it became clear you'd be waking before the court case could go through! Granger's laws worked against you, Severus!... and Potter, with his high profile position, could do nothing: Nothing! but follow proper protocol or risk the kind of full-blown scandal that would have torn the auror department apart! '

    He looked right into grey eyes, but could not see them. His heart thundered and his mind reeled with outrage:
' Do not lie to me, Luc! I woke up in that Hell-hole and the infirmary staff called me a murderer! They took pleasure in breaking me! Theirs was not the behaviour of people who believe themselves to be in the presence of an innocent man! '

    Pale white hair shone, like sunlight. Rose tinted lips pressed, furiously closed, in a face gone savage with affronted dislike.
' Peterssen...! '

    Severus felt like screaming. Like throwing himself right off the bed, in order to grab Luc's rigid, wide shoulders and shake him right off that ridiculously outraged stillness.

' Yes, Peterssen! and his two bloody henchmen!  The very same men who tortured me, while I laid -sick as a dog- on that dammed infirmary! They treated me like only a man found guilty would have been treated!
    I was in Azkaban, for Merlin's sake! I felt Condemned! I was put through all the paces as soon as I came to!: The derision, and the insults, and the spitting in the face were the very least they "blessed" me with!, so: don't you DARE try to convince me that I dreamed it all up, Lucius Malfoy! '

    Luc was pale. He looked sick and furious. Shocked right into paralysis. Incensed:

' I. Am. Telling. You. The. Truth! I'll even swear it, Severus! On Narcissa's very life! On Draco's!:
You were at the Manor for the first year and a half! Draco was so certain he could cure you...
    Potter became an absolute thorn on our side for all of that time! I threw him out and he started to follow me, whenever I so much as set one foot on Diagon Alley! Cissy was hounded by her sister, non-stop! And Draco... Draco came to blows with him, with Weasley! With half the blasted Gryffindors of Hogwarts!, -at least twice a week!-, when he had to go back to school for his last year!...'

'I don't believe you! '

'IT. IS. THE. TRUTH!'

    A pause ensued then. An oppressive, resentful one. Their eyes clashed and both glared, right into each other's faces. Then, Luc swallowed visibly and a sigh rent the air. The words that followed were quieter. And Firmer. Sentences filled with what his friend obviously thought to be nothing but the whole, undeniable, truth:
 
' Things came to a head over the Christmas break, during Draco's second attempt at seventh year.
    Potter showed up at the house with Dumbledore's portrait under one arm. He demanded to see you and I set the hounds on him!
That was when Mcgonagall went berserk. Whether it was Potter himself who convinced her to do it, or that crazy, painted, ex-mentor of yours, I've never known. But she went ahead and sued us, US!, on your behalf! She accused us of having -literally!- kidnapped you and the Wizengamot itself became embroiled in a battle that, I, ultimately lost!
    You were transferred to Hogwarts two and a half years ago and remained there ever since! That was until your -very temporary- relocation to Azkaban became a necessity! '

    Severus was stunned into silence. Ebony pools of astounded incredulity turned their mystified depths towards Luc's flushed face.
' Minnie sued you? YOU? And the Wizengamot... ? What on Earth...? Luc, that's just... It is ridiculous! '

    His friend barked out a laugh that had just a hint of sheer hysteria. Gray eyes shone, like polished diamonds, and that cultured voice shook, when he added -very fiercely-:
' It wasn't at all ridiculous, Severus! It was a miracle! I loved every bloody second of it all and you... You poor, old bastard...!  You've got to, finally!, be treated as you should have been all along, and you were not even there to enjoy any of it! '

    Ringing silence followed that assertion and they both sat, stunned and utterly drained, staring right at each other. For a very long time...

' I can't believe it...! It all sounds so... far fetched, Luc! Did it never occur to you that, maybe, things were simply... too good to be true? '

    Silver eyes acquired the very harshness of cut diamonds.
' Yes, my friend: Those kind of ideas did occur to me! I even went through a -long- period of enough cynical disbelief to fall a Mountain Troll. All of it on your behalf!
    Then I stopped judging it all through the eyes of a man who's fought two wars! I remembered how I felt when I was young and had the whole world at my feet! I remembered what I wanted and how I saw the world around me! How very simple everything seemed to me, then!: War and peace. Hatred and forgiveness. Love and friendship. Light magic or dark... and I suddenly understood what I was seeing!
It is all distressingly obvious, in my opinion, although I know that you will fail to see it for a very long time...! '

    Severus was peeved something fierce with that little cryptic rant. He disliked mind-games more than almost anything else and the fact that Luc, -LUC!- was now playing one on him was beyond maddening!
' And this amazingly inspired truth of yours -that I'll be too blind and jaded to see- is...? ' The question broke for freedom among clipped, frozen vowels: a tone that could flay dragons all but shaping them into vicious, cutting life. But his friend didn't appear much enthused to respond.

    There was a smile, though: a soothing, gentle thing being directed at him from those pale lips and Luc's voice, when it finally bothered to break the silence, was unusually gentle:
' I won't put you through the shook the answer will bring you. Not right now, at least, Severus! I actually think that things might turn out for the better, if I let you figure this out at your own pace... '

' Oh!, For Merlin's sake, Luc! Since when have you, ever!, bothered to sugar-coat any bad news you had to give me? '

    White blond hair fell around those beautiful features, like a curtain of sunlight, when the Pure-blood's head turned -very slightly- to the left. Studying him intently:
' These are not bad news, my friend. Not bad at all!: These are the Founders, finally!, pulling their heads out of their arses to see YOU. At at last!
This is the answer to every-single-prayer that I've ever offered to the Heavens on your behalf, Severus Snape!, and you were exactly right in your assessment of this particular situation -also as usual-:
It all comes down to Harry Potter, my friend... It all comes down to him, indeed... '


TBC...