Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10076516.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M, F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Arthur_Weasley/Molly_Weasley, Harry_Potter/Severus_Snape, Hermione
      Granger/Ron_Weasley
  Character:
      Dobby_(Harry_Potter), Draco_Malfoy, Albus_Dumbledore, Harry_Potter,
      Hermione_Granger, Lucius_Malfoy, Millicent_Bulstrode, Minerva_McGonagall,
      Molly_Weasley, Narcissa_Black_Malfoy, Neville_Longbottom, Pansy
      Parkinson, Remus_Lupin, Ron_Weasley, Severus_Snape, Sirius_Black,
      Nymphadora_Tonks, Arthur_Weasley, Blaise_Zabini, Peter_Pettigrew,
      Voldemort
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Language, Slash_sex, Sexual_Content, Alternate_Universe, Angst,
      Tragedy, Drama, Romance
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2008-09-10 Completed: 2009-07-14 Chapters: 20/20 Words: 56219
****** The Facade of Innocence ******
by Koinaka [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person to
     find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? Lucius never believed
     a mere infant could defeat the Dark Lord, but when he discovers that
     he was wrong, he sets about to ensure that the Malfoy's will do as
     they always have: survive and prevail. His action sets off a chain of
     events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions
     Master - reeling.
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
***** Something Wicked This Way Comes *****
Disclaimer: I do not own HP or anything you might recognize. I do, however, own
both Augustus and Nyx.
The night of October 31st, 1981 was a wet, damp, chilly affair. The Dark Lord
had finally succeeded in discovering the location of the blood traitor, the
mudblood, and the child that was destined to destroy him. Not that Lucius
Malfoy put much credit into prophecy. In fact, he cared very little for
divination of any sort. There was too much guesswork, too much room for
speculation in it.
As a business man and a Malfoy, Lucius tended to put his money – and his
support – behind those things that were sure to bring him fortune and power.
The Dark Lord had promised him those things, and so far, he had more than
delivered. It wouldn’t be much longer before they had control of the wizarding
world, with Lucius in the position of Minister of Magic. Oh, Lucius knew that
he would be merely a figure head with the Dark Lord making the decisions, but
even still, Lucius would be respected. He was, after all, the Dark Lord’s right
hand man. The man he went to when he needed advice or counseling.
Lucius wasn’t a fool, however, so when his Lord expressed anxiety over a
prophecy overheard in a pub, he listened and guided his Lord as best he could.
It went without saying that Lucius didn’t share his feelings – good or
otherwise – about the prophecy or divination in general. No, he merely watched
as his once great Lord became side-tracked and obsessed with the destruction of
a mere infant, bidding his time until the madness cleared away.
When that fool of a man told the Dark Lord the Potter’s location, Lucius
couldn’t help but be relieved. The sooner the brat was killed, the sooner they
could begin implementing their plans – his plans – and the sooner the wizarding
world would be free from the filthy mudbloods and muggles that were running
rampant. There was no fanfare in this mission. Just the Dark Lord, Pettigrew
and himself apparated in front of the cottage in Godric’s Hollow. Lucius heard
the screams of the blood traitor and the mudblood as they pleaded for the life
of their son. He was surprised, however, when the house exploded with a flash
of bright white light.
Pettigrew fled only seconds later like the coward he was, leaving him behind.
After several minutes passed and the Dark Lord still hadn’t left the wreckage,
Lucius became suspicious. It was for that reason alone that he ignored his
master’s command and entered what was left of the house. He stepped over the
body of the blood traitor Potter and made his way upstairs where the Dark Lord
was supposed to have been. Instead of finding his Lord, however, Lucius found
only the body of the mudblood and a crying infant.
Next to the infant was the Dark Lord’s wand. Not knowing exactly what had
happened, but knowing enough to surmise that the child had, at only the age of
fifteen months, brought about the destruction of the darkest wizard in over a
century, he made a decision. He reached down and picked the child up, stopping
to also retrieve the fallen wand. Lucius was nothing if not opportunistic. He
had no doubt that the Dark Lord would return eventually. Lucius himself knew of
the steps the man had taken to become immortal. But he also knew that the child
in his arms was extremely powerful. He could only imagine what rewards would be
bestowed upon him if the child was under his – and by default, his Lord’s –
control. His mind made up, Lucius apparated away from the wreckage child in
tow, not knowing what effect his actions would have.
- -
Thirteen years later
As a spy, Severus Snape prided himself on his ability to retrieve information
and secrets of the utmost importance, so suffice to say that he was more than a
little surprised when Lucius firecalled him asking if he would like to
accompany him to visit with his elder brother and retrieve his nephew, Julian,
who would be attending Hogwarts this coming year. Severus had reluctantly
agreed. He knew it was important to Dumbledore that he maintain his Death Eater
contacts in preparation for the Dark Lord’s eventual return to power, and the
Malfoy brothers were both excellent contacts.
Severus wasn’t sure what he expected when they flooed into the Parisian
mansion, but it was definitely not the scene they stumbled upon. Augustus
looked just as Severus had remembered him, features so similar to Lucius’ yet
so completely different. He seemed to be in disagreement with a boy whom
Severus assumed to be Julian. .
“But Papa! It isn’t fair!” pouted the blonde-haired boy. “I’ve been training
for months so that I could compete in the Tri-wizard Tournament! Now all of my
hard work will be for naught!”
“Is not,” corrected Augustus Malfoy automatically before turning back to his
newspaper. “And what have I told you about whining, Julian?”
The boy in question sighed. “That it is unbecoming of a Malfoy.” A frown
settled on the boy’s face.
“You can still compete in the Tournament, only for Hogwarts – not Durmstrang.”
“But Professor Karkaroff says Hogwarts is full of blood traitors and mudbloods!
You can’t possibly expect me to go there…” the boy trailed off.
“I can and I do, Julian. Going to Hogwarts won’t be so bad, will it? You like
your Uncle Lucius, don’t you?”
Another sigh. “Yes.”
“And you like your cousin Draco?”
Reluctantly now. “Yes.”
“Then you’ll go?” he pressed further.
“Fine, I’ll go,” Julian huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked
at his father, betrayal blazing in his steely eyes. “But I’m taking Nyx… and
Tobby I don’t care what that man says, no self-respecting Malfoy would ever
take on a kitten or a rat as a familiar. It’s insulting. And no personal house
elves? That’s barbaric!”
The man arched a pale eyebrow at his son’s antics. “Very well, now if you’re
quite finished with your tantrum, I think you’ll discover we have guests.”
Seeing their guests for the first time, Julian promptly straightened up. “Hello
Uncle,” he murmured, inclining his head slightly. “I thank you for inviting me
to your home this summer.”
Lucius seemed pleased with his deferment. “Julian,” he returned the greeting.
“This is my friend, Severus Snape. He will be spending the summer with us as
well.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” said Snape calculatedly. He hadn’t been aware that
Lucius even had a nephew. From last he knew of the older Malfoy brother, his
tastes in females had run decidedly too masculine which was how Lucius had come
to be the Malfoy heir in the first place.
The boy’s grey eyes widened. “The Severus Snape?” he breathed, looking from his
uncle to the strange man.
“The one and only,” chuckled Lucius. “Severus, this is my nephew, Julian
Malfoy.”
Julian gave a small bow, his pale cheeks tinted pink. “It’s a pleasure to meet
you, Master Snape.”
“Master?” asked his father.
Julian gaped at him. “Of course, Papa, he’s only the youngest Potion Master in
a century! You know that! Remember? We talked about this only last week when
his latest paper documenting his new findings about the wolfsbane potion was
published in the Potions for the Betterment of our World journal!”
Augustus smirked at Snape. “Of course, how could I forget? Youngest Potion
Master in a century,” he simpered at the blushing man.
“Well, come along now, Julian,” drawled Lucius. “Say good-bye to your father.
Draco and Narcissa are spending the day in Paris shopping, but they should
return in time for dinner.”
The boy threw his arms around his father and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Be
good,” he admonished him.
“How’s that for role reversal?” he chuckled, returning the hug. “Have fun this
summer. Make sure you keep up with your studies at Hogwarts, and for goodness
sake, Julian, do not let me hear about you tormenting your cousin or his
friends with that snake of yours,” he called after them as they disappeared one
by one into the fireplace.
“Snake?” asked Severus after they’d all come through.
“Yes,” said Julian. “I have a snake, well, specifically; I have a runespoor,
named Nxy. Don’t worry – she won’t bite you, if I ask her not to.”
“Ah, I had forgotten your father found you a runespoor. Julian is a
Parselmouth, Severus, and quite a talented student. Top of his classes in
Durmstrang,” Lucius told Severus offhandedly.
Julian gasped. “I nearly forgot, Uncle. I have some news for you. News I
couldn’t trust to letter.”
Lucius raised his eyebrow in inquiry at his nephew. “Shall we retire to the
study then?”
Julian nodded.
“Very well, then. Dobby?” the blonde wizard waited for a small elf to appear.
“Yes, Master Malfoy? How may Dobby be serving you today?”
Lucius sneered at the cowering creature. “A tea set for three in my study,
Dobby, and do try to be a little more prompt! Also, see that you help Julian’s
elf get settled in. Any mistakes he makes will be on you.”
The elf blabbered for a moment before popping out once more.
Once they were enjoying tea and sandwiches, Lucius turned towards Julian. “You
had some news for me?”
“May I speak freely, sir?” asked the boy. Severus did not miss the fact that
those grey eyes flashed to him briefly before settling back on Lucius.
“Of course, Julian. Severus can be trusted,” was the reply.
The boy pulled out his wand and murmured several words in Latin before
speaking. “I’ve made several interesting new friends this year, Uncle,” he
commented. “A snake that goes by the name of Nagini, for one.”
Severus made a sputtering sound as he choked on his tea. Even Lucius seemed
surprised by this new information. Julian continued on as if he’d never been
interrupted.
“Well, actually Nxy met Nagini whilst hunting in the forest near school. Seems
her master,” the boy paused for a second, eyeing both men, “was trying to get
in contact with one of his faithful servants in Durmstrang. He’d grown tired of
that sniveling rat – not that I blame him, of course, who’d want to be around
him anyway? Pitiful excuse for a wizard, really.” Julian shook his head.
“The Dark Lord is alive?” breathed Lucius.
Severus echoed the same sentence in his head – his mind reeling, his entire
body tense.
“Yes,” replied Julian. “Well, as alive as can be – for now. I, of course,
passed along his message – my dear Headmaster was less than pleased to hear it,
however. He was acting quite skittish towards the end of term come to think of
it. Trying to shirk his responsibility to our Lord – what a fool!” the boy
muttered.
“You’ve seen him, then?” asked Severus, barely containing the quiver to his
voice.
“Quite a bit actually. He was fascinated to discover another Parselmouth, and a
Malfoy no less.”
This seemed to shake Lucius up momentarily. “Had he any messages for me?” he
asked.
“Not at the present time. Our plans are progressing nicely, and will continue
to do so – especially now that I’ll be at Hogwarts.”
“Well, well,” Lucius murmured. “Convenient that your headmaster thought you
would benefit from Severus’ tutelage, isn’t it?”
Julian smirked. “Was that the excuse he gave my father? Father isn’t fond of
the Dark Lord, you know, but he’s even less fond of Albus Dumbledore. It took
quite a bit of orchestrating to get him to agree. Headmaster Karkaroff, on the
hand, was much easier to manipulate. He should have taken advantage of the Mind
magic classes he had available to him at school. It was simple enough to place
the suggestion there in his mind, and once in there… well, let’s say I doubt
he’ll make it to the end of the tournament. Legimancy is an extremely useful
little trick, isn’t it Master Snape?” The boy’s grey eyes watched him silently
for several minutes. “Especially when dealing with potential traitors.”
Severus hid his disbelief and fear behind a mask of indifference. Who was this
boy? The boy was helping the darkest wizard in a century return to power and
there probably wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it – not when his very
life was being threatened. No doubt that’s what the boy had meant when he’d
made that remark. He’d known the Dark Lord would be unhappy with Severus for
thwarting Quirell’s attempts to steal the philosopher’s stone. It was easily
explainable, though. Luckily enough, Severus really had been blissfully unaware
of the fact that the Dark Lord had been living life as a parasite attached to
Quirell’s head! Not that it would have changed his actions, mind you. Severus
had no intentions of allowing the Dark Lord to become immortal.
Lucius could not help but smirk at Julian. “You planned this entire thing,
then? That scene with your father that we witnessed was very well-played.
“Well, not all of it was a lie. I don’t particularly care to attend Hogwarts,
but I’ll make do. In less than a year, the Dark Lord will be returned to power,
and I’ll be rewarded handsomely for my efforts. As will you, Uncle. He is very
pleased with you.” The boy stifled a yawn. “I think I’ll go rest a bit before
dinner. Have a good afternoon Uncle, Master Snape.”
Snape watched incredulously as the boy left the room. And he was just a boy –
not even yet fifteen, if his looks were any indication. No matter what he’d
done, he was still just a child, much like those insufferable brats he
attempted to teach potions to.
“Remarkable, isn’t he?” asked Lucius softly. “I’ve sometimes wondered if I’d
done the right thing, but it looks like everything is going to turn out much
better than I’d hoped. Don’t look so downtrodden, Severus. Julian is a
delightful child, and I’m sure you two will get along nicely.”
“How is he in potions?” Severus asked warily.
Lucius chuckled darkly. “Good enough but it’s the Dark Arts he excels in.”
"He’s just a child!” hissed Severus.
“I think you’ll discover that quite the opposite is true. How about a game of
chess?” Lucius asked. It was clearly a diversion tactic which Severus could
appreciate and even welcomed at that point.
The rest of the afternoon and evening were uneventful. Dinner was a quiet
affair with only the three of them. Narcissa and Draco had decided to stay
overnight and wouldn’t be returning until the next day. Severus took the
opportunity the quietness awarded to observe Julian. He seemed very much the
image of what a young Malfoy should be. He was polite, intelligent, extremely
self-assured, not to mention powerful, and the spitting image of Lucius – so
much like him, in fact, that there were times when Severus felt like he had
been transported back in time. He had a shorter stature than Lucius, however,
but he would be an average height when he matured. The only perceivable
imperfection on the boy was a small lightening shaped scar on his forehead.
It was very late into the night when Severus was finally able to sneak out of
Malfoy Manor. He apparated to the edge of the forest, nearly running all the
way to the Headmaster’s office. He began barking out the names of all of the
muggle and wizzarding candy he could think of before the door finally opened.
The headmaster was sitting behind his desk just as he always was whenever
Severus had need of him.
“Severus, my dear boy. Bit late for a visit, isn’t it?”
Severus took a deep breath. “Albus,” his voice was stricken. “We have a problem
– a rather large problem, I would say.”
***** Taking this one to the grave *****
Disclaimer: Don't own it!
Chapter Two: Taking this one to the grave
“What sort of problem?” asked the elderly wizard, gazing at Severus from over
the top of his glasses, blue eyes twinkling all the while.
But every time Severus opened his mouth to tell the Headmaster about Julian’s
plans, he found that no words would come to him. Albus waited patiently, but
after several attempts Severus threw his hands in the air.
“Damn that insufferable brat!” growled the Potions Master. “It seems that boy
is smarter than I’ve given him credit for. Must have thrown up a secrecy spell
right before he told us…” he muttered, trailing off at the end. “I can’t tell
you what the problem is, Albus, but trust me when I say we will need to keep a
very close eye on Lucius’ nephew when he comes to Hogwarts come September. He
is too clever for his own good.”
“Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I presume?” asked the Headmaster with a chuckle. “He sent me
an owl just this afternoon requesting the summer homework for the classes he
was registered in for the coming year. I do make it a point to keep an eye on
all of my students, but I daresay I don’t think he will be a problem. He is
very gifted child, Severus, according to his school records. Straight O’s in
all the subjects covered in Hogwarts. We could use more students like him on
the side of the Light. Perhaps he might even tutor our young Neville.”
Severus snorted. “Did you perchance take a look at the classes not offered at
Hogwarts?” Like the Dark Arts, he added silently.
“Of course I did, Severus. Might I remind you of another gifted young wizard
with a penchant for the Dark Arts? Yourself perhaps?"
He suppressed a sigh. “Perhaps I am being a bit too hasty.” He relented. “But I
wouldn’t go so far to say that he will ever be a light wizard, Albus. He is a
Malfoy – albeit the son of Augustus. Not only that, but he is a Parselmouth! ”
“That is very interesting, Severus, but again I say that not all of those with
dark talents go dark. Look at Professor Lupin. He is a dark creature that has
shunned the ways of his fellow werewolves.”
“That man is a foul monster,” hissed Severus. “If it hadn’t been for Potter, he
would have killed me, Albus! How you could have let him teach this past year, I
will never understand!”
“Severus, Severus, you – better than anyone – should understand the importance
of second chances, seeing as I took quite a risk in giving you one not all that
long ago. Now, is there anything else you would like to tell me?”
Severus sighed. “No, I suppose that’s all. I will just have to keep an eye on
Julian myself.”
“Perfect! I knew you would come up with a solution.” The headmaster clapped and
then pulled a packet of parchment out of his desk. “If you could be so kind as
to take these with you? I am sure Mr. Malfoy is anxious to get started on his
homework. He really does seem like a charming young man.”
Severus snorted again. “Like a honey-tongued serpent, perhaps,” he muttered,
taking the parchment from the headmaster.”Good night, Headmaster.”
Albus waved him away, and Severus left the school with a sinking suspicion that
Julian was going to be nothing but trouble. If he already had the Headmaster
wrapped around his finger and Severus was sworn to secrecy – whether he wanted
to be or not – what would that mean for the wizarding world if the Dark Lord
was, in fact, successful?
Severus entered the house quietly only to come face to face with the boy in
question.
“Hello Master Snape. Have a nice visit with the Headmaster?” the boy queried.
Severus sneered at him. “Not that it’s any of your concern, Mr. Malfoy, but I
did, indeed, have a nice visit.”
“Julian,” interrupted the boy.
“What?” asked Severus, slightly taken aback.
“Julian. Call me Julian,” the boy, Julian, clarified.
“I don’t think that’s appropriate, Mr. Malfoy,” Severus retorted stepping back
as Julian approached him.
“Even so, I insist, Master Snape,” he replied, his eyes sweeping over Severus
hungrily.
“Good night, Mr. Malfoy! And desist from calling me Master Snape! I am as good
as your Professor and I expect you to address me as such.” Severus said as he
side-stepped the boy and headed for the stairs. He was about half-way up them
when a voice called out from the bottom.
“I do hope you enjoyed my spell-work earlier, Professor.”
A snarl and a growl was all the reply Julian received. He headed towards his
room with a smile playing on his lips. It wasn’t that he found the snarky man
attractive in a conventional way, by any means, but the man had a way about him
that interested Julian very much. There was no doubt he was the spy the Dark
Lord spoke of, but Julian had no intention of selling the man out. No, he was
far too intriguing for Julian to do that, and Julian had far too much to learn
from the man for that matter. Oh, he did well enough in Potions class, but his
brewing was not yet at the level it needed to be. The potion the Dark Lord
needed was much too intricate – and much too volatile – to attempt until he was
more proficient. Perhaps Severus would even take him on as an apprentice when
he graduated Hogwarts. The Dark Lord could probably use another Potion Master.
Duelers were a dime a dozen nowadays and, to the Dark Lord, they were
relatively disposable, but a potion master on the other hand…. Especially one
that was a Parselmouth… well, he would be quite indispensable – or so he hoped.
The next morning arrived far too soon for Julian’s tastes. He preferred not to
wake up with the sun, but the shaky little house elf – Dobby, was it? – that
accompanied Tobby in his room was far too noisy. Of course, half the noise was
the punishment for waking him up, and then the punishment for bothering Julian
with his self-inflicted punishment was more than enough to send the young
Malfoy springing out of bed – if for no other reason than to get away from the
noise.
He showered and got dressed for the day, choosing to leave his wavy hair down.
He hadn’t always kept it long, but it was too unruly when he wore it shorter.
He glanced over the assignments he’d requested from the Headmaster as well as
the book list with a sneer on his face. Several of the books were the same as
the books he’d used in previous years. No doubt he would spend a good deal of
time learning things he’d already learned. He placated himself with the
knowledge that he hadn’t come to Hogwarts to learn, really. Still, though, he
felt sorry for those who were forced to accept this as their only magical
education. He made a mental list of the books he would need before leaving the
room.
His aunt and cousin, not to mention his Uncle and the Professor, were already
eating when he arrived in the dining hall. Malfoy Manor was certainly
grandiose. Not that his home was a shack by any means, but there was something
to be said for being the heir.
“Julian! So good to see you again, dear. How are you?” asked his aunt with a
smile on her face. Julian loved Narcissa. Growing up without a mother wasn’t
bad but he couldn’t help but feel a little envious of his cousin.
“You as well, Aunt. You’re looking beautiful as always! Hello Draco, Uncle,
Professor,” he greeted the others as he took a seat next to his cousin and
begun piling food on his plate.
He received nothing but a scowl from the Potion Master, but the others returned
his greeting happily. Draco went into a tale about the previous year at
Hogwarts, detailing his misadventures with a hippogriff. He was careful to keep
the topic off of Quidditch, however. The two of them were close, but Quidditch
was the one area they competed ferociously in, so it was always best to steer
clear of it. When breakfast was over and his Uncle had left for the Ministry,
Julian called his house elf and requested the special package he had packed be
brought to them in the family room.
He handed the package – which looked suspiciously like a broom – to Draco.
Draco, in turn, raised an eyebrow at his cousin.
“You didn’t think I forgot your birthday, did you?” teased Julian as Draco
opened the Firebolt.
"Seeing as how my birthday was weeks ago, Julian, I wonder why I thought that,"
he said dryly as he pulled the broom out.
“Well, perhaps I acted with my own self-interest in mind, but that is the
Malfoy way, is it not? At least now maybe when you lose you won’t blame it on
my broom being the better one!” continued Julian.
Draco sneered at him, but Julian knew he was happy with his present. “The
Gryffindors won’t stand a chance now,” he said haughtily. “Not that they ever
did really. Come on; let’s see just how much better I am with this.”
“Well, glad I could be of some use to you, cousin of mine,” commented Julian
with a laugh. “What about you, Professor, do you fancy going flying this
morning?” he asked the Potion Master who was reading a book near them.
Draco laughed. “Uncle Sev on a broom, that’s a laugh!”
Severus snorted. “Flying is a frivolous act, and I do not waste my time with
such endeavors.”
Julian pouted. “Come on, Sev, it’ll be fun!”
Severus narrowed his eyes at the two Malfoy’s. “It’s Professor or sir, Mr.
Malfoy, as I told you last night. I would appreciate it if you give me the
respect I’m due!”
“Of course. Let’s go, Draco, wouldn’t want to bother the Professor with our
frivolous actions, now would we?”
“Were you flirting with Snape?” asked Draco when they were both in the air.
Julian laughed, mirth shining in his grey eyes. “And if I were?”
“Then, I would say you were mad!” quipped Draco.
“Prat.”
The boys flew until it was time for lunch. Narcissa was busy planning some
charity ball, so Julian spent the afternoon with Draco and the Professor in the
library. Draco was doing his homework while Julian attempted to translate some
of the books he had acquired from Parseltongue to English. It was tedious work;
mostly because he couldn’t distinguish the English from the Parseltongue
itself! After writing the same recipe four separate times – all of them in
Parseltongue – he threw the book to the floor.
“Must you be so loud?” snarled Severus.
“Sorry Professor,” he muttered. “I guess I really shouldn’t throw these books
around. Father will throttle me if I damage them.”
“As he should,” retorted the dour man before turning back to his book.
A smile appeared on Julian’s face as he watched Severus read. He’d done enough
translating for the day, so now he could attempt to have some fun, and he did
so enjoy watching Severus get all flustered as he was apt to do around Julian.
He’d already blown up at the boy several times since lunch. He picked up the
books off the floor, moving to the end of the couch as he did so.
“So, Professor,” started Julian. “I thought perhaps you might want a chance to
peruse these books. You’d have to wait until I was finished translating them,
of course, but still you are welcome to them.”
The books in question were several Potion books written in Parseltongue – one
of them belonging to Slytherin himself. Priceless, one might think, but with
threat of the British Ministry of Magic raiding former Death Eater homes,
people desperate to rid themselves of anything considered dark had fled to
France, selling their items for little more than a pittance. Julian had
discovered Slyterin’s book in a junk shop. He’d bought an entire chest full of
old journals for less than a galleon.
“I assure you, I have no need in anything you might own, Mr. Malfoy.”
Julian shrugged. “Suit yourself, of course. I just assumed a Potion Master in
such high regard as yourself would appreciate the content of Slytherin’s
personal Potions journal but I see that I have overstepped my bounds once
again.”
Julian stood once he was sure that he had the Professor’s attention. He called
his elf and sent the books back to his room.
“Have you set up my lab?” he asked the elf once he’d returned.
Tobby bowed low. “Yes, Master Julian, sir! I’ve taken stock of everything you
have and left a list of what needs replacing, Master Julian, sir,” he squeaked
before disappearing with a pop.
“Good,” Julian said to himself. “Well, if you two would excuse me, I think I’ll
go to the lab and make sure Tobby actually made the list. Tobby means well, but
he’s getting on in years and is beginning to be a bit daft in his old age.”
Julian headed down to the labs, but before he’d even reached the door, he
noticed the Professor following close behind him.
“Professor, change your mind already?” he asked.
“No, you insufferable boy! I am just ensuring that you do not contaminate any
of my potions!” said Severus with a sneer.
“I wouldn’t dare contaminate your potions, Professor,” drawled Julian. “But if
it would make you feel better, do feel free to check for yourself. I wouldn’t
mind the company.”
“I plan on it,” snarled Severus, pushing past Julian. Of all the places in this
house that boy could choose to spend time in; he chose the one place that was
Severus’ alone! It was enough to drive a man mad! The boy headed to the side of
the lab that was sectioned off and begun reading a list. Severus ignored him
and continued checking his potions.
“Bloody house elf!” exclaimed the boy half an hour later. Severus wasn’t quite
sure what he was up to, but he seemed to be going through his ingredients.
“Tobby!”
The elderly house elf appeared with a pop. “Yes, Master Julian, sir. Can Tobby
be helping Master Julian today, sir?”
“Yes, Tobby, you can!” snarled Julian, angrier than Severus had ever seen him.
He watched entranced as the boy’s eyes grew darker. Julian pushed a broken vial
into the elf’s face. “I thought I told you to be careful with these things,
Tobby! That was the last of the tears! You know how long I’ve been working on
that potion and now you’ve ruined it, you wretched fool!”
The house elf began to punish himself and blubber nonsensically. Julian paid it
no mind; instead he pulled a piece of parchment out and hastily scribbled a
note on it.
“Take this to him, you idiotic elf. I hope for your sake he doesn’t decide to
kill you! If he does though, remember it’s only what you deserve, now get out
of my sight. Don’t come back until you’ve gotten a reply. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master Julian, sir. Tobby will deliver your letter as requested!” the elf
squeaked out, trembling as Julian shoved the letter in his hand.
Once the elf had gone, an uncomfortable silence fell over the lab. Severus had
to admit his curiosity was peaked. What sort of potion was the boy working on?
And who was this him he referred to? Could it be the Dark Lord?
“Is there any place in London to buy proper ingredients?” he asked Severus
after a few minutes, breaking the man out of his thoughts.
“Depends on what you mean as proper,” replied Severus.
Julian sighed. “Must you always be so difficult? Forget I asked, Professor. I’m
sure Uncle Lucius can help me find these things – except the phoenix tears.
Damn that wretched elf!” the boy trailed off. “And I’m sure Mercury will no
longer be donating tears now that Father has decided to break it off with
Bastian. Damn, damn, damn! Perhaps I could set up something with Bastian
myself… yes, that may work.”
A pop interrupted Julian’s monologue. Severus noticed immediately how the elf
cowered, shaking almost violently. Julian read the parchment and blanched. He
sat the parchment down and bent over to pull off one of his own socks. He threw
the aforementioned garment at the elf.
“Never in my life have I ever encountered such incompetence in a house elf. I’m
afraid I no longer have use for you. I suggest you leave before Nagini eats
you. Thanks to you, she’s on her way!” Julian stalked out of the lab leaving
the wailing elf with Severus.
***** Out Slythering a Slytherin *****
Disclaimer: Do not own!
Julian tried to remain calm over the days that followed the Dark Lord’s
pronouncement that Nagini would be coming to oversee the rest of his
experimentations. It hadn’t worked. Oh, he seemed calm enough on the outside,
but like any self-respecting Malfoy, it was only a mask. Inside, he was a
bundle of nerves. It didn’t help matters that he hadn’t had any opportunities
to fly since it had rained nonstop for two days. He had, however, finished all
of the summer homework.
Julian’s lips quirked up into a small smile as he thought of the intriguing
Potion master. It hadn’t slipped his notice how the man seemed to be watching
him at any given moment. Why he was watching Julian, though? That was the
question. Julian hadn’t attempted any further conversations with the dour man.
He wasn’t trying to be coy, but he was far too busy trying to think of ways to
obtain the phoenix tears needed for the Dark Lord’s potion to trade sardonic
comments with him. Especially since the man seemed to want nothing more than to
be left alone. Julian would comply with that – for now. He would have to ask
the man for help soon, however – and wasn’t he looking forward to that? It
couldn’t be avoided, though. He was running out of ideas, and in two weeks he
would be leaving Malfoy Manor to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry.
He glared at the offending potion still bubbling in the cauldron. Instead of
the deep crimson that it ought to be, it had the nerve to be a rosy pink. He
banished it with a muttered spell and stared down at the floor, feeling
slightly defeated. He felt the heated stare of the Potions Master on him, and
it took every bit of self-restraint he had not to return it.
“Julian?” called a voice. Julian looked up to find Draco at the door to the
lab. “Mother wants to know if you would like to accompany us to Diagon Alley
which – in case you wanted my opinion – you definitely should. You’ve been down
here for hours, Juls! You’re almost as bad as Uncle Sev over there.”
“Thank Merlin for small favors then! Wouldn’t want it said that I am almost as
bad as our dear Professor!” drawled Julian as he followed Draco up where his
mother was waiting by the fireplace.
Diagon Alley was filled to the brim with shoppers. Julian eyed them
disdainfully. He had never seen such a pitiful group of wizards and witches in
his entire life. It did not bode well for him that many of these wizards – and
he used the term as loosely as was possible – would be his classmates.
Draco caught the look on his face and laughed. “It gets worse; wait until we
get to Hogwarts.”
Julian merely raised an eyebrow. “I quiver with anticipation. Truly.”
The shopping trip wasn’t a complete waste of time, however. He’d managed to
find the majority of the ingredients from the Apothecary as well as the name of
some… less than reputable people to get in contact with for more… exotic things
he would need.
He parted ways with Draco after their trip into the Apothecary. Draco went into
the Quidditch store while Julian chose to browse through a secondhand book shop
near the Apothecary. Books were one of Julian’s weaknesses. He was fascinated
by the number of things one could gleam from reading alone.
He selected several volumes – one a particularly intriguing book of poisons
that he felt sure the Professor would find interest in – and took them to the
front counter to pay. He left the shop, but didn’t make it more than a few feet
before someone rammed into him, knocking his books to the ground.
“Oi Malfoy! Watch where you’re going!”
Julian quickly picked up his books before turning to the furious voice. “Excuse
me? I believe it was you who so rudely ran into me, and I don’t believe I gave
you leave to say my name,” he replied coolly, glaring at the red-headed boy.
The boy blinked once before realization hit. “You aren’t Draco,” he said
accusatorily.
“Your observational skills are as astounding as ever, Weasel,” drawled Draco
who had emerged from the Quidditch store. “Come along, Julian. Mother’s waiting
for us.”
Julian nodded and the two of them headed back towards the Leaky Cauldron. A
smile crept on his face as he heard the horrified whispers of the red-haired
boy. “There are two of them! Bloody Hell!”
They arrived home to a very unpleasant surprise. Nagini had arrived, bringing
the idiot Pettigrew with her. Pettigrew sat trembling on the couch in the
sitting room, Severus’ wand pointed directly at him.
“Draco, why don’t you go upstairs and work on your summer assignments? Julian
will be along shortly, I’m sure.”
Draco glared at his mother, a protest ready on his lips, but the look his
godfather sent him was enough to scare even the Malfoy heir. With Draco safely
upstairs, Narcissa seemed to visibly relax. With a fleeting look at the man on
her couch, she moved to stand near her nephew
“Hello Nagini,” said Julian, allowing his hand to touch her head. He was not
surprised to see Nagini having known she would be coming, but Pettigrew was a
very unpleasant surprise.
“Hello, young Master. Master wishes me to tell you that he is not upset with
you for your failures. He is very concerned with your attending Hogwarts, so
he’s entrusting your safety to me. You’re very precious to him, you know.”
Julian let out a sigh of relief. “And the rat?” he asked, inclining his head in
Pettigrew’s direction. Julian wasn’t sure why but any time he was near the rat
animagus, he was filled with rage.
“He’s brought something for you, young Master, to help with your endeavors. He
is to return to Master with your next sample. Unless, of course, you have
further need for him?”
He studied the insipid man for a minute before turning back to Nagini.“No, I
daresay his uses are rather limited. I trust Nxy is keeping our Lord company as
we speak?”
“Yes, she will return to you once Pettigrew returns. She sends her love. I
think I will go for a hunt, young Master.”
Julian nodded and watched as the snake slithered away. “Pettigrew, what is it
you have for me? Speak quickly before I call Nagini back and tell her she can
feast on you rather than the prey she’s hunting for.”
The man continued shaking violently but, after a withering look from the
Professor, managed to pull out small box and a vial filled with a clear liquid
and handed it to him. “H-h-he said that you were to make this batch using only
half the normal amount.”
Julian slipped the box into his pocket before sinking down onto the couch next
to Pettigrew, his mind doing the necessary calculations. “Hmm,” he murmured
thoughtfully. “That may do, for now. Of course, he must realize this will make
the potion less potent. He’s already so weak. We’ve been able to restore a
portion of his magic, but… no, I suppose we have no other choice. We’ll have to
just make do. You will look after him, won’t you Pettigrew?” His voice became
lower and full of menace.
Narcissa and Severus, who, until this point, had stared in wide-eyed amazement
as Julian had conversed with the snake, turned their gazes towards Pettigrew.
Pettigrew seemed to be trying to turn into himself. “Yes, of course, my Lord. I
will care for him. Haven’t I these last months?”
“I don’t believe I will dignify that with a response, rat, as you hid from him
for a dozen years in a blood traitor’s home. Now, let’s see about giving you
some Malfoy hospitality? How does that sound?” A murmured incantation and a
swish of his wand later, and Pettigrew had reverted to his animagus form.
“Now what to do with you?” pondered Julian.
“I find the best place for rats are inside the dungeon,” replied Lucius as he
entered the room.
“Right you are. Well, I think I’ll leave our… guest… in your capable hands,
Uncle. I have some brewing to attend to now,” said Julian before fleeing from
the room.
Lucius transfigured a pillow from the couch into a cage and once Pettigrew was
safely enclosed in the cage, carried him from the room.
Severus let out the breath he had been holding. He had been taking a stroll
through the gardens when he heard the familiar pop of apparition. He’d nearly
killed Pettigrew on the spot. It was only the presence of the Dark Lord’s
familiar that stayed his hand. Pettigrew, as per usual, had given him nothing
but blubbering responses. Even Julian had seemed surprised to see him, so his
presence had definitely not been expected. Severus was no closer to figuring
out the mystery of the boy than he had been before!
The boy had been terrified to learn that the snake was coming, but after seeing
them interact, he didn’t seem to be afraid of her. Severus then thought that
perhaps the boy was frightened of the Dark Lord, but after hearing him speak of
the man almost lovingly, that could not be true either.
A secret smile played on Narcissa’s lips as she watched one of her oldest
friends. “Do not attempt to understand Julian, Severus. He defies all logic.”
“Indeed,” murmured Severus. “It is most vexing.”
“He’s a good boy, though,” continued Narcissa.
Severus merely raised a dark eyebrow. “I have no doubt. I am just surprised he
is so taken with the Dark Lord at his age. He’s only fourteen; surely you do
not condone this?”
Narcissa sighed. “In a perfect world, there would be no Dark Lord, Severus, but
that is neither here nor there. Since the moment my husband appeared in the
house carrying that child, I have looked after him like a mother would. I want
for him the same things I want for Draco – for him to remain healthy, happy,
and most importantly alive. I have long since made peace with the fact that the
Dark Lord would be a part of that happiness.”
“I’m afraid I do not understand. I thought he was Augustus’ son?” queried
Severus.
“Lucius has always said as much, but whether or not it is true, I do not know.
I do know that Augustus loves him, as do we all, though Julian has always been
closer to Lucius than Augustus,” replied Narcissa. “You should talk to him,
Severus. He seems so troubled lately, and you are correct, he is much too young
to be so involved with the Dark Lord, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
He’s dreamt of him since he was a small child, though I doubt he remembers
them.”
Severus contemplated all that Narcissa had told him. He decided to heed her
advice. He would get closer to the boy, offer him whatever advice he could. If,
for no other reason, to keep an eye on him and thwart any plans he may have. He
bid farewell to Narcissa and headed down to the labs. Julian was already
immersed with whatever potion he was working on, studying a book intensely. The
box he’d received from Pettigrew lay discarded on the table.
“Professor,” he murmured in acknowledgement.
“Mr. Malfoy, I find myself wondering what it is you spend all these hours
brewing. May I inquire as to the potion’s purpose?”
Julian fixed his steely grey eyes on the Potions Master before nodding tersely.
“It’s a strengthening potion, of sorts. I’ve been tweaking the formula, trying
to make it more efficient, but I confess that my experimentation has been less
than profitable.”
“Is my assumption that this is for the Dark Lord correct?”
Julian nodded once again. “He is but a shell of his former self, Professor, and
it pains me to see him this way. He has obtained a physical body, but it is far
from perfect. He grows stronger with the potion, but it’s not a permanent
solution as I’m sure you know.”
Severus eyed the boy. “Do you have feelings for the Dark Lord?” he asked
incredulously.
Julian laughed; the sound sent shivers down Severus’ body. “Romantic feelings?
No, I think not. I love him as a son might love a father, perhaps.”
“Do you have any idea the kind of things he has done? The people he has killed?
He would push you to the wayside in a moment’s notice, you foolish boy! You
cannot love the Dark Lord!” snarled Severus. He wasn’t sure quite why the
admission of love for the Dark Lord had sent him into a fit of rage, but he was
all too tempted to throttle the boy in front of him.
Julian narrowed his eyes at him. “I am aware of what the Dark Lord has done,
Professor Snape. I know that people are little more than dispensable to the
Dark Lord. Believe me when I say that I realize what I’m getting myself into,
sir. I think you will find that he will not push me to the wayside so lightly.”
He pulled out a large silver locket that was previously hidden beneath his
robes. On the front of the locket was an intricate S surrounded by a serpent.
“What does that mean?” asked Severus warily.
“It means that he has decided to name me as his heir,” replied Julian smugly.
Severus gaped at the boy. “His heir?” repeated the stunned man.
“Don’t look so surprised, Professor. It’s only natural that he chose me. I am
the only other known Parselmouth at this time. I admit I am a bit surprised to
have received the locket as well. I was only hoping to become one of his
Potions Masters. I wished to serve him in a way that would make me
indispensable. As I said before, Professor, I understand the workings of being
a Death Eater quite well. The Dark Lord has no use for people who stand by
idly. I’ve more than proven myself to him. Though he is weak, he is much
stronger than he was when I first came into contact with him – and that’s no
coincidence. His faithful servants have done naught to help him.”
“You are just a child!”
“So you keep reminding me, Professor,” said Julian dryly. “So what does it say
that a mere child has helped the Dark Lord more than the fully qualified
wizards who swore their allegiances to him?”
Severus said nothing, only stared at Julian. The subject of allegiances hit a
bit too close to home for the Death Eater turned spy.
Julian sighed, taking in the Potion Master’s silence. “Don’t worry, sir, your
true allegiances are safe with me. You intrigue me far too much for me to sign
your death warrant – which is exactly what would happen if I were to tell the
Dark Lord.”
“You know?” breathed Severus. “You know and you expect me to believe that you,
the Dark Lord’s heir, intend to keep this information to yourself. Pardon me if
I choose not to accept that.”
Julian shrugged and turned back to his potion. “Accept it or not, Professor,
the choice is yours.”
“What will your silence cost me, Mr. Malfoy?” Severus ground out.
“You wound me, Professor. To think that I, a Malfoy first and foremost, would
stoop to black mail, for shame,” drawled Julian.
Severus merely raised his eyebrow. Blackmail was a Malfoy’s bread and butter.
“Fine, but this will be relatively painless for you. Tell me, Potion Master
Snape, how do you feel about taking on an apprentice?”
***** The Prodigal Son *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? Lucius never believed a mere
infant could defeat the Dark Lord, but when he discovers that he was wrong, he
sets about to ensure that the Malfoy's will do as they always have: survive and
prevail. His action sets off a chain of events that will leave the wizarding
world - and a certain Potions Master - reeling.
===============================================================================
Disclaimer: Don't own it.
A/N: Hope you guys enjoy! Sorry for the wait.
Chapter Four: The Prodigal Son
Julian liked to think of himself as coming out of his arrangement with the
Professor victorious. After all, he’d obtained something he truly needed
without ever having to resort to lowering himself to actually asking for
assistance; however, he could not help but feel that he had some how gotten the
worse end of the deal.
If it weren’t for the fact that he did need the man’s help, Julian would have
gladly – gladly – told him his silence was free, of course. But Julian did need
his help, and the man was bloody brilliant, so an apprenticeship with him
wasn’t a waste of time by any means. It wasn’t official yet, however. The
Potions Guild – and by default the Ministry – would not allow Severus to take
him on as an apprentice unless he had an Outstanding on both his Potions O.W.L
and N.E.W.T. It seemed being a Malfoy in Britain was very profitable because it
only took Lucius two conversations, and Julian had appointments to take both
tests the following week. Having said that, Julian was beginning to question
his sanity. Clearly the Professor was a sadist – waking up this early was
simply beyond cruel!
“Mr. Malfoy! You are late!” hissed Severus when Julian entered the lab, blonde
hair still slightly mussed from sleep.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” retorted Julian before yawning. “Seriously, Professor,
it’s practically indecent to be up this early!”
“If you don’t want to be here, Mr. Malfoy, you may of course end these lessons
at any time,” drawled Severus silkily.
A glare was his only reply.
“Are you going to continue to waste time, or are you ready to begin?” asked
Severus haughtily.
Julian bit back the remark that was on the tip of his tongue and nodded.
“Very well. Perhaps now that you have graced me with your presence, you can
enlighten me as to what was going through your brain when you decided that
dragon’s blood would be compatible with phoenix tears!”
And so it went. Julian would have complained, but Severus was truly in his
element, barking out orders and snarling insults at the blonde-haired boy. By
the afternoon of the second day, they’d finished a three months supply of the
potion with what should have been only enough for a little more than a month.
With Severus’ input and advice, they were able to make the potion a bit more
potent than it should have been using only half the recommended dosage of
phoenix tear. A swig a day would gradually build up his magic reserves. Julian
was so thankful for Severus’ help, he nearly threw himself on the Potion
Master, but a scathing look was all it took to knock that idea out of his head.
Severus had also helped Julian make a litany of other potions for the Dark
Lord, ranging from Pepper-up potions to Dreamless Sleep potions. When Julian
asked if he was sure that the Dark Lord would want those particular potions,
he’d been told that as Severus had been the Dark Lord’s resident Potion Master
for years, he was sure. Of course, he wasn’t quite so polite with his response,
but Julian took no notice.
There were plenty of other things that Julian had noticed, however. Like the
perceived silkiness of the man’s raven-colored tresses, and the way strands of
his hair would fall into his face whilst he was reading, tantalizing Julian
whenever it occurred.
The crack of a house elf arriving tore Julian out of his thoughts.
“I’ve got a letter for you, Master Julian Malfoy, sir!” squeaked the unfamiliar
house elf. Julian took the letter with a sneer.
The sneer soon turned into a smirk. Draco, who was playing chess with the
Professor, raised an eyebrow at his cousin.
“Good news, Julian?” he asked with a smirk of his own.
“I think so,” replied Julian, cryptically. “When will Uncle Lucius be
returning, Professor?” It wasn’t abnormal for the couple to travel quite a bit
throughout the school year, but with Severus spending the summer with them,
they had been able to travel more frequently.
“Tomorrow evening,” replied the Potions Master.
Julian frowned. That was not acceptable. The Dark Lord had requested a meeting
with Julian before he left for Hogwarts, and when the Dark Lord requested
something… well, it was not so much a request as a command… and ignoring a
request was a punishable offense.
“Professor? It seems I am in need of more ingredients. Perhaps you could
accompany me to Diagon Alley? I didn’t intend on bothering you with it, but as
both my Aunt and Uncle are otherwise engaged, I was hoping you would agree…”
Julian trailed off.
Severus gave Julian a suspicious look. “Very well. Draco, would you like to
come along?”
The boy in question yawned. “No, I’ve got Pansy’s birthday party to get ready
for, remember?”
“Are you ready to go then?” Severus asked Julian.
“Err, yes. Just let me grab the list from the lab.” Julian said before leaving
the room. Severus took it upon himself to follow the boy. He was acting rather…
odd, and that did not sit well with Severus.
For good reason, it seemed. When he entered the lab, Julian was hurrying around
the room, packing up the various vials of potions they’d made for the Dark
Lord.
“We’re not going to Diagon Alley, are we?” asked Severus with a sigh.
“I’m sorry, Professor, really, I am. The Dark Lord wants me to meet with him
before the end of the summer. If you’d rather not go, then I can go by myself,
of course. I only came up with the Diagon Alley excuse so Draco wouldn’t
question my absence. It wouldn’t do for him to become involved,” answered
Julian sincerely.
“Which has me wondering why it is that you have become involved?” retorted the
Death Eater turned spy.
Julian shrugged. “Because it’s the right thing to do, Professor.”
Severus snorted. “Of all the idiotic things to say, boy. Just when I think you
might actually have something rattling around between those ears of yours, you
prove me wrong. Well, hurry up and get packed, then. You really don’t expect
that I’ll let you go alone, do you?”
Julian flushed with embarrassment. “I’ve just got to collect our guest from
downstairs and then we can leave.” He turned to leave the room but stopped when
he reached the door. “Thank you for coming, sir.” He did not wait for a reply.
Pettigrew was exactly where Julian expected him to be. The Malfoy’s didn’t
really have a dungeon, per say, just one cell where in the past they would
house anyone caught stealing from them. The rat animagus was happily snacking
on a piece of cheese in his transfigured cage when Julian swooped down and
snatched the cage up.
“We’re going back to the Dark Lord, rat,” Julian informed him.
“How do you plan on getting to the Dark Lord, Mr. Malfoy? Surely you do not
plan on flooing or traveling by broom?” Severus asked the boy when he’d
returned to the lab.
“Of course not!” Julian pulled out a small coin from his pocket. “He sent along
a port key for us.”
Julian opened the cage so the animagus could return to human form.
“I’ll be informing the Dark Lord of my treatment, Malfoy!” spat the angry man.
“I’d expect no less from you,” drawled Julian. “Now, if you don’t mind touching
the port key? Or perhaps you would rather explain to him why you’ve kept us
late?”
The rat glared but decided against arguing further. Once the three of them had
a finger on the coin, a whispered ‘portus’ was all it took before Julian felt
the familiar tug around his navel. They reappeared in a sitting room that, in
all honesty, had probably seen better days.
“Welcome to Riddle Manor,” intoned the Dark Lord from his chair.
Severus’ eyes darted quickly to the man who had once been his Master. Instead
of the regal man he remembered, there sat what Severus could only describe as a
creature, more snake than human.
“My Lord,” breathed Severus, bowing deeply. He was amazed by the effortless way
he slipped back into “loyal” Death Eater mode after nearly a dozen years of
freedom. The spy contemplated his situation. He could not very well spy for the
Headmaster if Julian kept him under that blasted secrecy spell, could he?
Unless he was able to find a reversal for it… and not to mention that a mere
child held his freedom in the palm of his fickle Malfoy hand. No, he would have
to remain loyal to the Dark Lord – for now. He shivered at the thought. He’d
turned from this path years ago; how could he stand to return to it now? He
could not count on his return failing. Julian was much more proficient than
he’d expected, and though the boy remained tight-lipped about the plan, Severus
knew it was only a matter of time.
The Dark Lord inclined his head at the Potion Master but said nothing for the
moment. That did not make Severus complacent, however. The Dark Lord was only
bidding his time until he was able to punish him, and Severus expected he would
be punished. He knew better than to think otherwise. He would pay for the
freedom he’d had – not that he’d ever really been free, but at least Albus had
managed to save him from Azkaban.
The Dark Lord turned to Julian whose head was bowed, eyes diverted to the
floor. The boy reminded him very much of a young Lucius, and not just his
looks. Both his deference and his attitude were impeccable – as if he’d been
reared for this very thing. The arrogance of a Malfoy coupled with just the
right amount of subservience. Severus couldn’t help but be impressed by him.
“Julian, look at me,” the Dark Lord commanded softly. With no reservations,
Julian raised his head and made eye contact with him. The Dark Lord turned back
to Severus after several seconds. “Very interesting,” he murmured. “We had not
discussed an apprenticeship, Julian.”
A slight tensing of his back was the only indication that Julian was unnerved
by the comment. “I thought it prudent, my lord. It would allow me to hone my
skills in order to be of more use to you, and it would help explain the amount
of time spent with Severus in and out of his lab. I do not want to give the
Headmaster reason for undue investigation. If it displeases you, I will think
of another suitable plan,” Julian replied.
The Dark Lord nodded, giving Severus a thoughtful look before turning back to
Julian. “Very well, Julian. I’ll allow it. You’ve obviously given this a great
deal of thought. I’ve never cared much for brewing, but there are many potions
which utilize Parseltongue incantations as well as being written only in
Parseltongue. A Parselmouth Potion Master would be quite a coo indeed.
Wormtail, please have a house elf show Julian to his suite and take the box of
Potions to my office. Julian, we will speak again later, but I would like a
word with Severus. Alone.”
“Yes, my lord,” said Julian and followed Pettigrew out of the room.
Crimson and obsidian eyes watched as he left. The Dark Lord studied the Potions
Master intensely before speaking. “Severus, Severus, my slippery little
friend,” began the man with a trace of amusement in his voice. “I must admit
that it is a surprise to see you voluntarily coming back to me since you have
long ago made your loyalties known. Tell me, Severus, did you not think I would
know? Did you not realize the precarious situation you were in when you allowed
Dumbledore to announce to the wizarding world that you were a spy for him?”
His heartbeat thundered loudly in his chest. Adrenaline flooded his veins. “My
Lord, I would have come before had I only known that you were alive! I was a
fool to believe an infant could defeat you. I have no excuses for my decision
to let Dumbledore,” he spat the name, “clear my name. I was facing time in
Azkaban without Lucius’ influence or money to buy my way out. If you will it,
my life will be forfeit,” murmured the trembling man.
Calculating eyes narrowed. “That will not be necessary – today. How is the old
fool?”
“As blind as ever,” replied Severus truthfully.
“He always has been. Does he still mourn the loss of the Potter boy? I’m told
he was not recovered from the wreckage.”
“The headmaster believes the boy still lives, though there has never been proof
for either side, only speculation. His hope is that the boy will arrive with
one of the other schools this year for the tournament. It’s why he has allowed
the tournament to take place without the age restriction.”
The Dark Lord stood and moved towards Severus. “I will forgive you your
transgressions for the moment. Julian is quite taken with you and since he has
expressed an interest in learning from you, I will allow you to live. Make no
mistake, Severus, your life is no longer your own. You may return to Hogwarts
this night and tell Dumbledore that your mark is active yet again, but nothing
more. He can do with that information whatever he chooses. Let him believe that
he still has you under his thumb. Be aware, however, that the spell Julian
placed you under is irrevocable. You will not be able to pass along any
information unless he or I will it to be passed on. Perhaps, in time, you will
be able to earn back my trust.”
Severus bowed deeply. “Thank you for your mercy, my Lord.”
“Do not thank me yet, my slippery friend. While Julian attends Hogwarts, he is
your responsibility. If any harm should come to him, on your head be it.”
“As you wish,” murmured Severus in reply.
“Very well. Your arm, Severus?”
Severus held out his arm to the Dark Lord, the Dark Mark that had been growing
brighter through the years was now vivid against his pale skin. The Dark Lord
pressed his wand to the mark.
Not even five minutes passed before a slightly breathless Lucius Malfoy
apparated into the room. He bowed deeply before the Dark Lord.
“Arise, Lucius, we have much to talk about. Severus, you may go,” the Dark Lord
dismissed him with a wave of his arm.
“What of the boy, my Lord? Should I take him back with me?”
“That won’t be necessary, Severus. I’ll make sure he is returned safely,” said
the Dark Lord softly.
Severus nodded tersely before apparating to the gates of Hogwarts. Instead of
going to the headmaster at once, he went to his chambers and poured himself a
rather large glass of brandy. It had been a long day, and Severus knew it was
only just beginning.
***** Of Masters and their Servants *****
Chapter Five
Nxy was curled up on a pillow when Julian entered his room. The three-headed
snake turned to him as he made his way over to the bed.
“Hello Master! You have returned!” said the three heads in unison.
“So it would seem. Have you missed me?”
“Yes!” replied the Dreamer. “Are we coming to Hogwarts with you?”
“As if I could keep you away,” teased Julian as he sank into the softness of
the silk-covered bed.
The runespoor continued to talk, telling him what had happened since he’d seen
her last. Julian’s eyes fluttered shut, the stress of the previous week finally
catching up to him. He had not allowed himself to relax since he’d discovered
the broken vial of tears.
Being in the Dark Lord’s presence always comforted Julian. It was the one place
he could be himself – utterly and completely. Everywhere else he had a role to
play.
With his father, he had to be a spoiled naïve child. There was no doubt that
his father loved him – of that he was certain – but at times his father strived
too hard to prove it. It wasn’t altogether difficult to act the part of a
spoiled child; his father usually gave into his every whim. The only problem
was that he did so in hopes of reversing Lucius’ influence on him. Though
Augustus allowed Julian to attend Durmstrang at Lucius’ insistence, he never
missed an opportunity to make it known that he disapproved. He had wanted
Julian to attend Beauxbatons where he felt Julian would have no contact with
either Albus Dumbledore or the Dark Arts. He’d attempted to regulate the
classes Julian took, but had, in the end, allowed Julian to study as he saw
fit. That Lucius had something to do with that decision went without saying.
Then, there was his uncle. Julian loved his uncle, just as he loved his father,
perhaps even more so, in fact, but that love came at a price. Lucius expected
Julian to be the perfect Malfoy with everything that entailed. Malfoy’s, Julian
had learned at a very young age, were superior to other wizards. They were
powerful and influential. Weaknesses – if they had any – were hidden away. They
never allowed their emotions show – that, too, was a sign of weakness. They did
not whine, they did not cry, and they most certainly did not care for muggles
or those with muggle blood in their veins. Lucius expected top marks from
Julian, so he received them; not like Draco who was constantly competing with a
mudblood for top place in his year. It was because of Lucius that his interest
in the Dark Arts blossomed. Where his father disapproved of this, his uncle
ensured he would be able to pursue his interests. He hired private tutors,
bought rare books, and a number of other things. Serving the Dark Lord was
certainly expected of a Malfoy and Lucius had instructed him in the ways of a
Death Eater as well.
It was also because of Lucius – though he did not know – that Julian had been
able to spend time with the Dark Lord at all. Headmaster Karkaroff, the Death
Eater turned informant, was terrified of the nephew of the Dark Lord’s right
hand man and allowed Julian many freedoms not extended to other children, and
Julian – like any Malfoy would – took full advantage of that. Many times he
would spend the entire weekend with the Dark Lord and his familiar.
This brought him to the present. The Dark Lord was the one person with whom
Julian could truly be himself. There was no need for secrecy – in fact, no
secret could be kept from the Dark Lord. Julian’s occulmency, strong though it
was, could never hope to keep the Dark Lord at bay if he ever had the
inclination to search his mind as he was apt to do. Not to say that the Dark
Lord didn’t have expectations for Julian because he did and the penalty for
failure was much steeper than anything his father or his uncle could imagine.
Which is why he found himself at a loss as to why he had allowed himself to
become so attached to Severus Snape? The man had betrayed the Dark Lord! He was
a traitor; worse than his old headmaster because Dumbledore was the Dark Lord’s
most hated enemy, and yet he shared the Dark Lord’s deepest secrets with him.
After seeing the way the Dark Lord looked at Severus earlier, there was little
doubt that he knew exactly where the Potion Master’s loyalties lay. He only
hoped that the Dark Lord would be merciful. With the secrecy spell, Severus
could no longer tell Dumbledore anything unless they wanted it told. Even if
the Dark Lord had agreed to allow the apprenticeship to go forward, Julian knew
Severus’ days were numbered. He was not likely to live through this war. If
only the thought of Severus’ death did not make Julian feel hollow…
Julian absentmindedly fingered the silver locket he wore. The locket had a
magic of its own, very similar to that of the Dark Lord and it seemed to
comforted him. Soon he would be in Hogwarts surrounded by people who oppose him
and his Lord. It would be months before he would be able to see or get in
contact with the Dark Lord, and it made Julian feel very uneasy.
A knock at the door caused Julian’s eyes to fly open.
“Julian?” came the silky voice of his uncle.
Julian moved off the bed and quickly smoothed out his robe before opening the
door.
“Hello Uncle,” greeted Julian with a small smile upon his face.
“The Dark Lord wishes to see you now,” Lucius informed him.
Julian nodded. “Very well. Thank you for retrieving me. I trust you and Aunt
Narcissa had an enjoyable vacation?” asked Julian as they made their way back
to the sitting room.
“Indeed,” murmured the blonde Death Eater. “I was… pleasantly surprised to
receive a summons. I did not realize how close the Dark Lord was to returning
to power. He has informed me how instrumental to his return you have been.”
“You would do well not to underestimate me, Uncle. I’ve only done what anyone
faithful to him would do. Is this not what you have trained me for all my life?
To take up my place beside the Dark Lord?” asked Julian when they reached the
sitting room door.
The aristocratic face of Lucius Malfoy flushed a soft pink. Julian knew he had
gone too far. “You should not keep the Dark Lord waiting, nephew of mine. We
shall continue this at a later time.”
“Of course,” murmured Julian before entering the sitting room. He inclined his
head at the Dark Lord before sitting on the sofa. Wormtail stood next to the
Dark Lord’s chair, glancing nervously between the two of them.
“Say, Pettigrew, I’m feeling a bit peakish. Why don’t you run along and fetch
us some tea, hmm?” drawled Julian.
Julian did enjoy tormenting the pitiful lump. If Pettigrew refused, there was a
chance the Dark Lord would punish him. If he did not refuse, then he was
admitting that he was no more than a maidservant. A clear no-win situation.
The Dark Lord merely raised an eyebrow at the cowering man. The effect was
immediate.
“Yes, of course, my Lord!” squeaked Pettigrew before scurrying out of the room.
“Must you continue to torment my servants? First Severus and now Pettigrew…”
trailed off the man with a slight curl of his mouth.
“My sincerest apologies, my Lord, but Pettigrew makes it far too easy. Has he
told you he spent the week in the dungeons under an anti-animagus ward? Poor
little rat… As for Potion Master Snape, I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea
of what you speak of,” replied Julian, widening his eyes innocently.
“You are playing with the man, Julian, and this is not a game! In a weeks time
you are going to be at Hogwarts with Albus Dumbledore, and I don’t think you
appreciate the seriousness of the situation. If the old fool catches even a
hint – and he, much like me, always knows – of anything untoward between you
and Severus, he will do everything in his power to either separate you from him
or to benefit from the union,” snarled the Dark Lord angrily.
“It matters not, my Lord. Potion Master Snape has made his feelings for me
abundantly clear. He would not be taking me on as an apprentice had I not
coerced him to do so. Once the apprenticeship is complete, Dumbledore will be
powerless.”
“Do not underestimate him, Julian! The old man thwarted many of my plans
throughout the years I spent at Hogwarts. I do not want him to have any reason
to suspect you. He is under the impression that your father was one of my
servants and that he turned away from me, but Augustus Malfoy – loathe though I
am to admit it – never served me. To him, an alliance between a Malfoy and the
light would be a tremendous coo. You must play your part impeccably. Do you
understand?” finished the Dark Lord.
Pettigrew, who had entered midway though the Dark Lord’s tirade, brought the
tea and biscuits and sat them on the small table.
Julian’s face was schooled into a mask of indifference. “Yes, my Lord. I
understand. Perfectly,” he intoned automatically.
The serpentine face relaxed briefly. “Leave us, Pettigrew,” he commanded the
man harshly. After he had gone, Voldemort turned back to Julian. “Family is a
weakness, Julian. One I never allowed myself to have – until now. That is no
mere trinket you wear on your neck! I’ve entrusted you with a portion of my
soul; do not make me regret doing so.”
“Your horcrux,” breathed Julian. “You’ve given me your horcrux, and you expect
me to parade around under Albus Dumbledore’s nose wearing a portion of your
soul! Will it be safe?”
“If you play your part, it will be safe. I’ve discovered that the best place to
hide something is in plain sight. You’ll find that Dumbldore’s biggest weakness
is the fact that he sees only the good in people – even when he has evidence of
the contrary. Though it is uncustomary to allow transfer students, he has made
an exception for you. He would never believe that a fourteen year old child
would have the capacity to serve me. Do not alert his suspicions and all will
go as planned. When the time is right, you can enter the Chamber of Secrets and
get Slytherin’s books.”
“As you wish, my Lord,” murmured Julian as the gravity of the situation sunk
in. The Dark Lord had a horcrux and had given it to him. He dare not think of
the consequences should he fail.
---
Dumbledore, as Severus expected, was not concerned about the return of his
Mark.
“Tom has not yet found a way to regain a body, Severus. I would know if he had.
Do you think so little of me to believe I did not have people informing me of
just that very thing?” asked the elderly man with a saddened look on his face.
Sufficiently chastised, Severus had returned to Malfoy Manor. It was late when
a furious Lucius and an extremely pale Julian returned.
“You dare refuse to tell me?” snarled Lucius.
“I refuse only to tell you what my lord has bade me keep secret,” replied
Julian lazily. “Nothing against you, Uncle, surely you understand. If the Dark
Lord deems it necessary, he will inform you.”
“The Dark Lord trusts me above all others!”
“Perhaps he did, once,” conceded the boy. “He has entrusted you with priceless
artifacts before. Artifacts that are now forever lost to him.”
The color drained from Lucius’ face. “The diary…” he murmured.
“Yes, the diary,” said Julian slowly. “I’m going to bed now, Uncle. It’s been a
long day, and the Professor is fond of waking up at ungodly hours.”
Julian left the room quickly before either man could stop him. Severus watched
as Lucius regained his composure.
“Will he be ready for his examinations?” asked Lucius.
Severus nodded. “He will. Durmstrang is much further in their curriculum than
Hogwarts. He will pass his O.W.L. with ease, and the N.E.W.T. with some
studying.”
“See that he does. The Dark Lord will not be pleased if you fail in this.” With
that, Lucius disappeared upstairs, leaving the Potions Master alone once again.
It was happening already. The power struggles that had threatened to tear about
the Death Eaters previously. Severus could only be thankful that the most…
unstable Death Eaters were still in Azkaban.
---
“Three counter clockwise stirs, Mr. Malfoy, or are you incapable of even that?”
snarled Severus.
A huff. “I’m sorry, Professor,” Julian murmured reluctantly.
“Do not be sorry, Mr. Malfoy. Simply refrain from making such simple mistakes.
You’ll be sitting for your O.W.L. this afternoon; you cannot afford to fail.”
“As if I could forget,” muttered Julian, his fingers flying up to touch the
chain of his locket. “Professor, may I ask you a question?”
Severus sighed. “I would say not, but I doubt that would stop you.”
“Never mind,” whispered the boy. He banished the contents from his cauldron and
began again.
“Mr. Malfoy – Julian,” corrected Severus. “I am not opposed to answering your
question.”
Julian nodded. “Is Dumbledore dangerous?”
Severus arched an eyebrow. “You serve the Dark Lord, but you are afraid of
Dumbledore?”
Julian sneered. “I am not afraid of Dumbledore. I am simply asking you if he is
dangerous. The Dark Lord tells me not to underestimate him. He says that he is
like him in the regard that it is difficult to keep secrets from him. Is there
any truth to that?”
Obsidian eyes observed the boy. Ever since he’d returned from the Dark Lord, he
had been troubled. The others did not notice, but Severus did. He’d spent too
many years as a spy to not recognize Julian’s behavior for what it was.
Whatever mission the Dark Lord had given the boy had terrified him. He was
acting just as Regulus had in the days before his death.
“The headmaster is a powerful wizard. You would do well to heed the Dark Lord’s
advice. He is a talented Legilimens, but unless you give him reason, he’ll not
use it on you. Are you trained in occlumency?”
Julian sent a withering look his way before turning his attention back to the
potion he was brewing. “Yes, of course I am.”
“Very well,” replied Severus.
The hours passed by swiftly, and finally it was time for Julian to go to the
Ministry for the first test.
“Will you be accompanying me, Professor?” asked Julian. They were in the
antechamber waiting to use the floo.
“It’s better that I not be seen at the Ministry. Your uncle will be meeting you
there.”
Julian’s smile faded at once. “He is still angry with me.”
Severus smirked. “I believe the correct term would be jealous. He is afraid you
are taking the spot he believes to be his. He is reading your reluctance to
tell him of your mission as confirmation of this.”
Julian’s eyes widened. “If he only knew… but as I said before, I cannot tell
him. There’s no mission though, so you can assure him that his place at the
Dark Lord’s side is secure.” A sigh escaped Julian’s lips before he threw the
powder in the fireplace and called out ‘Ministry of Magic’.
Lucius was waiting for Julian with a rather stout elderly man.
“Good afternoon, Uncle,” said Julian respectfully.
“Julian, this is the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Cornelius, this is my
nephew, Julian Malfoy.”
Julian inclined his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Minister Fudge. Britain
is thriving under your guidance.”
The stout man beamed. “I see this young man is taking after you, Lucius! Well,
I best be off. Got a million things to do… Wonderful idea, having a tournament
and all, but the paperwork… well, you can only imagine,” the man trailed off as
he walked away.
“What an insipid little man,” commented Julian lightly once he was out of
earshot. “He must make your job rather easy, Uncle.”
“Quite,” replied Lucius. “I’m afraid he could not be convinced about the wand,
Julian. You’ll simply have to purchase a new one from Ollivander’s. The
Ministry insists on the trace being on the wands of every Hogwarts’ student.”
Julian sighed sullenly but was able to resist the urge to pout. He loved his
wand.
“Ah, here we go. Good luck.”
Julian gave his uncle a smile before entering the aforementioned door. He was
greeted by a man that, in Julian’s opinion, made Severus look like a kitten.
The theoretical portion of the examination was frighteningly easy, and the
practical was only slightly more difficult. At any rate, suffice it to say that
Julian brewed the potion – Draught of Peace – perfectly.
The examiner had, however, grunted at him when he’d turned it in. “Passable,
Malfoy. You’ll have your results in the morning.”
Julian rolled his eyes and left the exam room. The man was muttering under his
breath about “special treatment” and “another insufferable Malfoy”.
His uncle was not in the hallway as he expected. Instead, there was a pink-
haired witch wearing an auror robe waiting for him.
“Hello cousin! I’d heard you were in Britain. Mum talked to your dad day before
last. Asked me to keep an eye on you and all that rot,” chirped the witch
cheerfully.
Julian flashed a mischievous grin at the witch. “Nymphadora, what a pleasant
surprise, and by pleasant I mean absolutely dreadful.” He glanced at her robes.
“So, it’s true then… they’ve entrusted the keeping of laws to you?”
Pink hair changed to purple, and blue eyes narrowed. “How many times have I
told you not to call me Nymphadora, Juli. Call me Tonks or nothing at all!”
Julian held up his hands in surrender. “As you wish, Tonks, but you know we are
not really cousins.”
“I know, and I thank Merlin for that every day!” sighed Tonks. “Well, I should
be heading off. Don’t want your uncle Lucius to catch me near you.”
Julian nodded. “Tell my father not to worry so much for me?”
“Will do!” said Tonks as she disappeared under an invisibility cloak.
----
Three days later found Julian the youngest Potion Master apprentice in Britain.
He’d thought he’d botched the potion – Draught of Living Death – but he’d
managed to save it. Severus, as expected, was less than thrilled with the news.
“Why, Professor, it’s as if you expected me to fail?” drawled Julian.
The scathing look he received was enough to render him silent.
It was the day before they were to leave for Hogwarts and Severus had brought
him to Diagon Alley for his new wand and the necessary potion ingredients. He
had explained to Julian that as his Master – the word sent chills down Julian –
he was responsible for taking care of Julian’s finances. The relationship
between a Master and Apprentice entailed many things. Julian, regardless of
where he was sorted, would room in Severus’ quarters. This suited the youngest
Malfoy just fine. There were other rules which Severus had told him in a no-
nonsense voice.
Because Julian was still a student, he was expected to keep up with all of his
courses as well as his work as an apprentice. This meant, he would have very
little in the way of free time. Not that Julian cared; as he told Draco and
Severus, he had no need of friends at Hogwarts.
After nearly an hour spent in the apothecary, Julian and Severus made their way
to Ollivander’s. Julian entered the shop with a sneer on his face. An elderly
man smiled enigmatically at them.
“I’ve been expecting you,” the man said simply.
***** Down the Rabbit Hole *****
Disclaimer: DO not own. Also there are some dialogue, ideas, etc that I took
from Philosopher's stone. Most of it is paraphrased stuff from Ollivander.
Anyway!
A/N: Also-- I am pretty unhappy with this chapter, but I felt it was important
to muddle through and get him to Hogwarts so here you have it. Well, enjoy! If
you have any suggestions or critiques, don't hesitate to review.
Chapter Six: Down the Rabbit Hole
Julian was unimpressed with the wand maker. “Have you?” he asked coldly.
“Yes, for several years in fact, Harry Potter,” replied the man. He’d taken no
notice of Julian’s tone of voice.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mr. Ollivander. Harry Potter is dead as is the
rest of his family. I’m Julian Malfoy, not that it’s any of your concern. Now,
can we begin?” Julian fixed the aging wizard with a frosty glare.
“Of course, Mr. Malfoy, my apologies. Let’s try this one, shall we?”
An hour later, Julian was beginning to think the man was senile. The wand maker
had taken to muttering under his breath and glancing at the birthmark on his
forehead, and to Julian’s utter dismay, he’d continued to call him Mr. Potter!
Harry Potter, indeed. As if he could ever be compared to that half-blood!
Besides, he’d seen the picture of the blood traitor and his mudblood; he looked
nothing like them. He was a Malfoy through and through.
Severus, Julian noticed, had become uncomfortable the moment that Ollivander
uttered the word Potter. Well, he didn’t blame him. Who would want to think
about the infant who had “defeated” the darkest wizard in a century? Julian
didn’t believe it was true for one moment, and his father certainly didn’t
believe it either. The Dark Lord defeated by a mere infant? Ridiculous! Not
that Julian dared to ask the Dark Lord what had actually happened. Julian was
clever; however, and the tale Dumbledore had spun was much too fantastical to
be true. Suffice it to say, Julian didn’t take kindly to being called Harry
Potter.
“I wonder,” murmured Ollivander after yet another failed attempt. He pulled a
dusty box off the top shelf all the while watching Julian. “Give this one a
wave. Holly and phoenix feather, 11 inches.”
Julian gave a small sigh, but did remove the wand from its dust-covered box.
The wand, despite the boxes dusty appearance was shiny. If Julian cared to
wager, he’d bet that it had never been removed from this box at all.
“Finally,” breathed Julian as he felt his magic connect with the magic of the
wand.
The man’s misty eyes grew large. “Curious, very curious, that it would be you
who is destined for this wand.”
“Why is that?” asked Julian carefully. He didn’t particularly care, but his
curiosity was peaked since though the wand maker claimed it was curious, it was
quite obvious that he had expected this turn of events.
“The phoenix who donated the feather for this core donated one other feather,
just one other. The wand chooses the wizard, but it is awfully curious that you
would be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar.”
Julian scowled at the elderly wizard. “This again? Mr. Ollivander, as I have
told you – countless times, I might add – I am not Harry Potter! He is dead!
And this scar is no scar at all; it’s a birthmark,” cried Julian in outrage. “I
am Julian Malfoy, and you would do well to remember that.”
“Of course, of course,” said Ollivander in a soft voice, stepping away from
him.
Julian hadn’t even noticed that his hand had gone into his pocket for his wand
– his rightful wand – until he felt Severus’ hand on his shoulder.
“If you would wrap up the wand, Mr. Ollivander, we’ll be out of your way
directly,” Severus interjected silkily.
The man nodded and Severus sent Julian outside while he finished the
transaction.
“Mad old man,” muttered Julian when Severus rejoined him. “As if I look
anything like a Potter. I look every bit like a Malfoy!”
Severus suppressed a shudder. Ollivander had always been an odd man, but that
had been ridiculous. “Don’t think too much of it, Julian. No one could ever
mistake you for anything other than a Malfoy.” It was true. He looked far too
much like Lucius.
A brilliant smile spread of the boy’s face. “You called me Julian,” he crowed.
Severus bristled. “I did nothing of the sort.”
Julian sighed and rolled his eyes. “If you say so, Master Snape.”
“Cease and desist calling me master!” snapped the Potions Professor. “Come
along now! You’ve wasted more than enough of my time, and we’ve still got to go
collect the rest of your books from Flourish and Botts. Then, I’m to return to
Hogwarts this afternoon for a staff meeting.”
“Brilliant! Look’s like I get the afternoon off, then. I think I’ll challenge
Draco to a seeker’s game,” continued Julian happily, ignoring Severus fully.
“No, you do not,” growled Snape. “I want the first three chapters of Advanced
Potions read before the first day of class. You may have passed your NEWT, but
until I ascertain what your actually skill level is, we’ll be going through
that book. You’re my apprentice, and as such, your progress reflects directly
on me. I expect you to be give potions your undivided attention as well as
retain top marks in your other classes.”
Julian grinned cheekily. “I would expect nothing less, Professor,”
Severus glowered at him as they entered the book shop. As usual, it was filled
to the brim with children and their parents. Julian grabbed the books he had
forgotten about – which really only consisted of the Care of Magical Creature
boo – and several others that caught his eye and quickly made his way to the
front of the shop. After they left Diagon Alley, Severus deposited him on the
front porch of Malfoy Manor with the warning that if he hadn’t completed the
required reading – and essay – he would spend the entirety of September in
detention.
Draco was preening in his room when Julian got upstairs.
“About bloody time,” huffed Draco. “You have been spending way too much time
with Uncle Sev!”
“Aww,” cooed Julian. “Are you feeling neglected?”
“As a matter of fact, yes I am!”
“Well, come on then,” Julian drawled. “Let’s see if I can beat your arse in a
seeker’s game!”
Draco sneered. “I’ll have you know,” he said snottily. “That I always win.”
“I’d like to see that,” he snorted.
“You’re on!”
One game quickly turned into two and two turned into best out of five. It was
nearly dark when the two of them finally made their way back into the house
with Draco victorious.
“So, you’re really going to be Uncle Sev’s apprentice?” asked Draco. Julian was
sprawled on Draco’s bed watching him put the finishing touches on packing his
trunk. They had packed Julian’s trunk before dinner, and now they were both
ready to leave in the morning.
Julian nodded. “He’s a bloody slave driver, too. I swear that man is
insufferable.”
“This year is going to be brilliant. With both of us on the house Quidditch
team, the Weasel and his Gryffindors won’t stand a chance.”
“I wonder what house I’ll be in,” mused Julian.
“Slytherin, of course!” cried Draco. “All Malfoy’s are.”
“Speaking of Malfoy’s, I need to speak to your father,” Julian said suddenly,
moving off the bed in a fluid motion, knocking Nxy to the floor in the process.
He left quickly, leaving a very confused Draco behind. How could he have
forgotten though? That strange old man, his piercing eyes, and the conviction
in his voice as he called Julian ‘Harry’; there must be some explanation for
it.
Lucius was in the study when he heard a knock at the door.
“You may come in, Julian,” he called.
“Hello Uncle,” the boy said softly. “I know we haven’t been on the best of
terms since I arrived, but I do appreciate what you’ve done for me over the
years.”
Taking it for the apology that it was, Lucius smiled at the boy. “Did you
collect your wand today?” he asked.
“About that… that’s really why I came to talk to you. The man who runs the
shop, Ollivander, well, he said some strange things.” Julian watched his
uncle’s reaction. While he didn’t really give the old man’s words much thought,
he had been unnerved by them, and he knew telling his uncle was the right thing
to do. He expected Lucius to shrug it off as nothing, however, but Julian
noticed how he slightly clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the front of
his desk.
“Such as?” asked his uncle.
“He kept calling me Harry Potter! Why would he do that?”
Lucius paled ever so slightly. “I’m afraid I do not know, Julian. I assure you
that there is no truth in his ramblings. Surely you do not believe him?” he
asked incredulously.
Julian straightened up and sneered. “Of course not. He’s obviously senile. I
just thought you ought to know.”
“Indeed. I’m sure you’re correct in your assumption. Old age does have a
tendency to cause senility. He’ll retire soon enough; he’s been selling wands
for over a century after all. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I
will endeavor to have a word with him, shall I?”
Julian nodded. “He really was the oddest man. He nearly had a heart attack when
we finally found my wand. Turns out, my wand is the brother wand to the Dark
Lord’s. I wasn’t really looking forward to using a new wand, but if it’s the
same as the Dark Lord’s, it must not be too terrible. He kept babbling about
destinies. Completely mad, I tell you.”
His uncle went quiet for several minutes; then he stood up. “I’ll take care of
it. Now, I believe you have some potions work to complete before bed? You have
a very long day ahead of you, and it would not do for you to be ill-prepared,
Julian.”
Julian nodded once more. “Of course, Uncle. Good night,” he murmured as he went
out the door.
Without any hesitation, Lucius grabbed a handful of floo powder and flooed to
the Leaky Cauldron.
---
A quick tempus told Severus that he was not late. However, he was cutting it
very close. Luckily for him, he had already made arrangements with Lucius to
have one of his elves send his belongings to Hogwarts. They were probably
already waiting for him in his quarters. Malfoy elves had a tendency to be
fairly efficient, save for the one Julian had brought.
He apparated to the gates of Hogwarts and made his way to the castle, scowling
unconsciously as he entered. This time tomorrow the brats would be on their
way, and he wouldn’t get a moment’s peace for the duration of the year. Not
that he’d had much peace over the holidays. The first part had been quite
satisfactory, up until the collecting of Julian and the madness that followed.
He arrived at the headmaster’s office just as the meeting began. He wondered
who the headmaster had chosen to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. As much
as he disliked the wolf, he couldn’t help but admit that he was the most
proficient teacher they had had for a number of years. He didn’t have to wonder
long, however, because a mocking voice reached his ears as he sat down.
“Snivellus! Glad you could finally join us.”
“Black,” snarled Severus. “I’d forgotten you were free now. How very close the
dementors got last year to getting the kiss they so desired. It’s a pity,
really, that you were proved… innocent, as it were.”
Sirius Black, the bane of Severus’ school years, paled. It was quickly replaced
by twin blushes of anger. Before he could speak, Albus entered and began the
meeting.
“Welcome, my friends, to a new year at Hogwarts. I’m sure most of you are well
aware that we have been chosen to host the Triwizard Tournament this upcoming
year.”
Gasps of outrage were heard throughout the staff.
“Professor Dumbledore, surely you must be mistaken. The tournament is
incredibly dangerous! How many have died competing in the past?” cried
Professor McGonagall.
“Calm yourself, Professor. The students will be made aware of the risks before
they are allowed to enter. The tournament is a chance for the children to meet
students from around the wizarding world. Perhaps some we may have overlooked…”
Dumbledore trailed off, but Severus knew exactly who he meant. He hoped Harry
Potter would be found at another school. The man had clearly lost touched with
reality!
“I would like to introduce the newest staff member. The recently exonerated
Sirius Black has done me a great service by accepting the position of Defense
Against the Dark Art Professor. I have the utmost confidence in our young
Sirius, and it is my hope that the rest of the staff do all they can to help
him this year. Now, on to other business…”
The headmaster droned on about a variety of unimportant matters while Severus’
hand twitched to grab his wand and hex Sirius Black where he stood, or rather
sat. This was only exacerbated by the man himself who continued to smirk at
Severus. Between Julian Malfoy, the Dark Lord, and Sirius Black, this was
shaping up to be a dreadful year. Severus only hoped he would live to see the
end of it.
---
Morning came much earlier than Julian cared for. Draco had pounced on his bed
at the ungodly hour of 7:00 AM. Even the threat of Nxy, who was very put out by
being jarred awake, was not enough to deter the Malfoy heir. Knowing it was a
lost cause, Julian got ready for the day with only minimal complaint. Lucius
was absent from breakfast, but Julian wasn’t too concerned.
“Are you looking forward to attending Hogwarts, Julian?” asked Narcissa as she
took a sip of tea.
“Very much so,” replied Julian truthfully. He was especially looking forward to
sharing quarters with Severus. It was going to be interesting to say the least.
“Have you heard from your father?”
“No, I haven’t, actually. How odd,” he commented. Why had he not noticed that
his father hadn’t done so much as write Julian a letter since he arrived?
Sending a message with Nymphadora hardly counted as correspondence.
Narcissa gave her nephew a reassuring smile. “I’m sure all is well, darling.
Shall I fire-call him for you?”
Julian shook his head slightly and smile softly at his aunt. “That will not be
necessary. I’ll write him when I get settled in at school.”
He was used to spending months away from his father while at school. He never
came home for the winter holidays as it was too unwieldy to commute from
Durmstrang to France where they lived. Not that he would have come home had
they been closer. His father was always too busy at the French Ministry where
he worked to spend much time with him at all, so he would have spent more time
with his house elves or perhaps his uncle than his father.
The rest of the morning was spent checking and double checking their trunks.
When Narcissa was satisfied they both had everything they could possibly need –
and even things they did not need – they took the port-key to Kings Cross.
The crowd on Platform 9 ¾ reminded him of Diagon Alley. The majority of witches
and wizards seemed little more than vagabonds, and there were even muggles –
albeit they were the parents of the mugleborns, but still, Julian certainly had
no care for them.
After giving Narcissa their farewells, she levitated their trunks and Nxy’s
cage to the train while they boarded. Nxy had vetoed the cage straight away and
was comfortably – to her at least – curled underneath Julian’s robes, her three
heads resting on his shoulder.
As they boarded, Julian noticed a number of the students giving him wary looks.
“Come on, Julian,” said Draco. “Let’s get a compartment before they all fill
up. Then, I can introduce you to my friends.”
“I can hardly wait,” remarked Julian, but he did follow Draco as they made
their way through the crowd.
They were joined several minutes later by two rather large boys – Crabbe and
Goyle, though Julian couldn’t be sure which was which – and a lovely looking
dark-skinned boy – Blaise Zambini. A small smile played on Julian’s lips as he
observed Blaise, who was sitting across from him. Julian had his eyes on a
certain master of Potions, but he was brought up to appreciate fine things, and
Blaise certainly qualified as such.
Draco and his friends talked among themselves about their holidays as Julian
alternated between reading his potions book and watching the countryside pass
by. Draco boasted about his Firebolt which lead to a brief discussion about
favorite Qudditch teams and the World Cup. Draco had definitely whinged about
that over the summer. England was meant to hold it, but at the last minute
decided against it. No one reason had been given as to why, so Julian was
forced to listen as his compartment mates launched into all sorts of reasons –
each more ridiculous than the last.
Progressively throughout the train ride, Draco’s friends popped in to greet
Draco and be introduced to Julian, the newest Malfoy. Julian found the majority
of Draco’s friends to be useless. One in particular, Pansy Parkinson, was more
useless than the rest. It was Julian’s – slightly skewed – opinion that she was
nothing more than a simpering idiot. This was proven when she attached herself
to Draco the moment she entered their compartment. Julian would not have minded
had she not wedged herself between the two of them. If that was not enough, she
also continually cooed at Nxy and attempted to drag Julian into conversations.
“What house do you think you’ll get sorted into?” she asked.
“I don’t have a preference,” replied Julian coolly without ever looking up from
his book.
“Tell us!” she pleaded.
“It doesn’t matter where I get sorted. I won’t be rooming in any house, and I’m
not bothered by who I attend classes with.”
“What are you talking about? Everyone knows that you room in whatever house it
is that you get sorted into. Why would you be any different?”
“Can I bite her, Master?” asked Nxy.
Julian laughed softly. “No, you may not,” he hissed back.
Silence reigned supreme in the compartment for several seconds.
“You’re a Parselmouth,” breathed Blaise, looking at Julian intently.
“So I am,” drawled Julian. “What of it?”
“T-the Dark Lord was a Parselmouth,” stuttered Pansy, face aghast.
“Is,” corrected Julian lazily. “The Dark Lord is, not was, a Parselmouth.”
“But Harry Potter defeated him!” protested Pansy.
Julian laughed again. “Come now, Pansy, aren’t you a bit old for fairy tales?
Surely you don’t believe that, do you?”
Pansy narrowed her eyes and sneered at him. “Of course not,” she said quickly.
“Well, at least that solves on question. There’s no way a Parselmouth will get
sorted into anywhere but Slytherin. Now, why don’t you tell us why you think
you’re too good to stay with the other students?”
“Julian is Professor Snape’s apprentice, that’s why he doesn’t have to stay
with his house. He gets to room with the Professor, so he’ll be in the Dungeons
no matter where he’s sorted,” Draco stated in a matter-of-fact tone of voice
that left no room for argument.
“You must be talented if Professor Snape has taken you on as an apprentice,”
commented Blaise.
“I suppose,” said Julian slowly. “Though it helps that Durmstrang’s curriculum
is much more rigorous than Hogwarts. Well, at least I think it must be if I was
able to pass both the British Potions O.W.L. and N.E.W.T after only three years
of formal study.”
Thankfully, the mention of Durmstrang led to the conversation turning to the
Tournament, and Julian was able to continue reading his book.
So much for keeping a low profile, he sighed to himself.
Before long it was time to change into their school robes, and then – far too
soon in Julian’s opinion – they arrived in Hogsmeade station.
A large burly man called for first years and Draco threw Julian an apologetic
look as Julian walked over to the man. Though he was not a first year, he had
not been sorted and therefore had to go with the first years. Julian thought it
was all a bit ridiculous, but as Dumbledore had made an exception in allowing
the transfer – well, Lucius being on the Board of Governor’s hadn’t hurt either
– Julian felt it would not do to complain over such a small thing.
As luck would have it, Julian ended up in the boat with the large man who
introduced himself as Hagrid the Keeper of Keys and Grounds as well as the
Professor for the Care of Magical Creatures class. Julian tried not to think
about the fact that his end of the boat was raised slightly out of the water
and that the entire thing was balancing precariously to one side. When the
castle came into view, even Julian had to admit it was breathtaking.
Hagrid continued to make small talk with Julian. That is, until he spotted Nxy.
“Blimey, is tha’ a runespoor?” he gasped.
“Yes,” answered Julian. Of course it is, he thought snidely. Unless there is
another species of snake with three heads that I’m unaware of.
“Never seen one in the flesh,” he said finally, still looking at Nxy. “Yeh mind
if I take a closer look at him?”
Julian suppressed a sigh, but managed to smile apologetically at the half-
giant. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be advisable. Nxy isn’t very receptive to
strangers.”
Just when Julian thought he couldn’t take another moment of the man’s company,
they arrived on the other side of the lake.
Hagrid led them to the doors of Hogwarts where a stern-faced witch was waiting.
She explained the houses to them in a no-nonsense tone before ushering them
inside. Hogwarts, unlike Durmstrang, was quite elaborate. Julian particularly
liked the ceiling which was bewitched to show the weather outside.
Julian’s eyes went directly to the Headmaster. He’d seen photographs of the man
before, of course, but looking at the man in person was quite different. If
Julian did not know better, he would think the Headmaster nothing more but a
benevolent grandfather. A slightly eccentric one, if his robes were any
indication. Julian’s attention was soon turned to an old hat that opened his
mouth and began to sing.
“When I call your name, please step forward to be sorted,” stated the stern-
faced witch, a Professor McGonagall, when the hat’s singing was complete.
Julian didn’t bother listening as the first years were sorted. He let his eyes
wander around the Great Hall. He found Draco sitting at the Slytherin table
almost immediately. Pansy was on one side of him and an empty seat on the
other.
“And now, for the first time in Hogwarts’ history, we have a transfer student
from Durmstrang Academy of Magic. Julian Malfoy, please come forward to be
sorted.”
Ignoring the stares of the students, Julian went to the front and sat on the
offered stool. Professor McGonagall sat the hat on his head.
“Ah, another Malfoy, eh?” said a cheerful voice in his head. “But what is this?
Your mind is a very complicated place, Mr. Malfoy. So many secrets – some you
even keep from yourself!”
“I’ll thank you to keep out of my private thoughts,” snarled Julian.
“Do not worry yourself, I am but a hat. Your secrets are safe with me. Now,
shall we begin? A good mind, yes. Plenty of cunning and ambition, too. Oh, but
you are loyal, as well. You would do well in any of our houses, no doubt about
that. Slytherin would help you on your road to greatness, but I don’t think you
belong there. No, unlike a Slytherin, your wellbeing is second to another’s.
Everything you do is for this other person… such loyalty is to be commended,
but where to put you? Hufflepuffs are known for their loyalty, but only one
house would be brave enough to do all that you have done. That being said…
better be, GRYFFINDOR!”
The silence in the Great Hall was deafening.
***** The State of Denmark *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to
find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? His action sets off a chain of
events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions Master -
reeling.
===============================================================================
Chapter Seven: The State of Denmark
Suddenly, the Great Hall was filled with the sounds of whispers.
“A Malfoy in Gryffindor?”
“Can you believe it?”
“They’ve always been sorted into Slytherin!”
Julian groaned as the hat was taken off his head and he was directed to his
house table. He smirked as he saw the shocked look on Severus’ face and the
scandalized look on Draco’s.
If there was a word to describe the Gryffindors, it would be… common. He ended
up sitting next to a pudgy dark-haired boy, a bushy-haired girl, and a red-
haired boy that seemed quite familiar.
The headmaster signaled the start of the feast with a bellowed ‘Tuck in!’ and
huge platters of food appeared on the table.
“You’re that boy I saw in Diagon Alley, aren’t you?” said the red-haired boy
around a mouthful of food.
“Talking with your mouth full? How very plebian,” replied Julian, ignoring the
boy’s question.
“Sod off, Malfoy!” cried the red-haired boy.
“I didn’t know that Malfoy had a brother,” remarked the bushy-haired witch
carefully as she picked at the food on her plate.
“That is because he does not have a brother. I’m his cousin.” Obviously, he
added silently.
“Oh,” said the witch. “I’m Hermione Granger, and that’s Ronald Weasley and
Neville Longbottom, and you’re Julian Malfoy.”
“I’m well aware of my identity, Miss Granger, was it? I’ve never heard that
surname before. Are you from the continent by any chance?” asked Julian as he
studied the aforementioned students.
“No,” said the girl, flushing lightly. “I’m muggleborn.”
Longbottom certainly didn’t seem like much, but according to the Dark Lord, he
was one of two children prophesized to defeat him, and it was his opinion that
since Harry Potter had been taken care of Dumbledore was training Longbottom to
be his protégé. Draco had told him all about the other Gryffindors, of course.
The Weasel – as Draco called him – was quick to anger though he had no skill to
back up his taunts, and the Mudblood was an insufferable know-it-all. Though
Julian suspected Draco was more than a sore about the fact that a mudblood
continually bested him.
“Ah,” said Julian softly. “I’ve never met a muggleborn before. They aren’t
allowed in Durmstrang.”
“Not allowed?” The girl seemed outraged. “Why not?”
“Who cares?” said the red-haired Weasley. “Everyone knows Durmstrang is for
Death Eaters in training!”
“Gran says Durmstrang is just very selective,” commented Longbottom.
“Of course we are selective,” retorted Julian. “Our curriculum is much more
strenuous than Hogwarts. Just being magical doesn’t entitle you to an
education. You have to earn it.”
“That’s completely unfair!” said Granger.
Julian shrugged, but said nothing more. How could he have allowed the Dark Lord
to talk him into coming here! This was a disaster in the making. Not only was
he was surrounded by blood traitors and mudbloods, but both the Weasleys and
the Longbottoms had fought actively against the Dark Lord. He would have to
tread very carefully here. He decided the best possible solution would be to
ignore them all fully. He needn’t make friends in Gryffindor or in Hogwarts for
that matter.
Eventually the shock of Julian’s sorting seemed to have passed and
conversations continued around him.
“So, do you play Quidditch?” asked Weasley.
“Yes.”
“You any good?” asked an Irish boy whose name Julian neither knew nor cared to
know.
“Hey, I bet he's met Krum!” said another boy. “Bloody brilliant, he is.”
“Have you?” asked the Irish boy excitedly. “Have you met Krum?”
“Of course I have.”
Weasley gaped. “What’s he like?” he breathed.
Julian shrugged again. “Like any other Qudditch player, I suppose. Do close
your mouth, Weasley. It’s very unbecoming.”
Weasley flushed angrily, but he did manage to close his mouth. By the end of
the feast, Julian had decided that he would rather spend vast amounts of time
with both Pettigrew and Pansy – together – than to listen to the drivel the
Gryffindors spewed.
Finally, the feast ended, and Severus stormed over to the Gryffindor table.
“Mr. Malfoy, come along!” he barked.
“Professor! How good to see you again,” drawled Julian. “You’ve met my dinner
companions, I take it?” He motioned to the trembling Longbottom, pale Weasley,
and the mudblood.
Obsidian eyes narrowed. “Unfortunately,” he sneered. “Now, if you are quite
finished, I will show you to your room.”
“As you wish Master Snape,” retorted Julian cheekily as he got up to follow
Severus out of the Great Hall.
Silence fell over the table before Julian heard Weasley whisper. “Was he
flirting with Snape?”
“I think so,” replied Longbottom in an equally horrified tone.
Severus was furious. Gryffindor! How could a Malfoy be sorted into Gryffindor?
The staff was as shocked as the students seemed to be. No doubt Lucius would be
unhappy… and the Dark Lord! His heir, a Gryffindor? It just wasn’t possible!
And he just knew all of this was going to somehow be his fault. Damn that
foolish boy!
He collected the boy from the table and stalked out of the Great Hall. He
didn’t speak another word until they reached his quarters. He snarled the
password and entered the room.
Julian was rather amused by the entire situation. Severus was clearly out of
sorts. The room he found himself in was much smaller than he was used to,
especially for a living area. There was a couch and an armchair in front of a
small fireplace. The rest of the room was covered in bookshelves. He supposed
it would have to do.
“Fancy showing me the rest of our quarters?” asked Julian sweetly.
Severus glared but nodded in agreement. This did not stop his vitriol, however.
“I’m sure this will not be up to par with your standards, but you would do well
to hold your tongue if that is the case. Your bedroom is the first door to the
right. I’ve requested an en suite, so I’ll thank you not to disturb my bathing
area. My room is the first door on the left. You will never – in any
circumstance – enter that room unless given my express permission. I expect you
to clean up after yourself. I understand that may be a foreign concept for you,
but as I do not stand for laziness; you should endeavor to familiarize yourself
with the processes.”
“Of course,” replied Julian. “That’s perfectly understandable, and I wouldn’t
dream of violating your privacy, sir.”
“See that you don’t. Also, I do not expect your friends to congregate here.
I’ll not have Gryffindors in my private quarters.”
“Thank Merlin for that! I don’t think I could stand spending more time with
them than absolutely necessary. Plus I feel quite safe in my assumption that no
Gryffindors would ever willing come here. Did you see the way Longbottom and
Weasley looked when you came to the table?” said Julian, stifling a laugh.
“Well, sir, unless you need anything further I think I’ll turn in.”
Severus’ eye twitched. “As I’ve said before, Mr. Malfoy, I have no need for you
at all.”
Julian sighed. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks” he murmured softly as
he went into his room, leaving the seething man behind.
His trunk and Nxy’s cage were sitting at the foot of his bed. Despite his
Gryffindor sorting, the room was decorated in Slytherin colors. The room and en
suite were quite small but more than adequate. It would have to do for now. Nxy
was anxious to explore the rest of the quarters, so Julian left his door
slightly ajar while he took a bath in the en suite.
No sooner had he sank into the nearly scalding water than a blood-curdling
shriek resounded through the quarters.
“And keep your bloody snake in its cage!”
A Cheshire cat grin spread across Julian’s face. Baiting Severus was turning
out to be a very pleasurable experience.
---
“I can’t believe you’re in Gryffindor,” spat Draco the next morning as they
walked to the Great Hall, his entourage following behind them. “I wrote Father
last night. I’m sure he’ll demand a resort.”
Julian sighed. He hadn’t got much sleep last night. The dungeons were
unnaturally cold and drafty. Not to mention the late night visit from his
uncle. Lucius had arrived sometime after midnight angrier than Julian had ever
seen him before. Apparently, news travels fast in Britain, and he was already
aware of Julian’s placement, as was the Dark Lord. Lucius was unhappy to say
the least, but the Dark Lord, surprisingly enough, thought it would be easier
for Julian to stay under the radar in Gryffindor. It was only at the Dark
Lord’s insistence that Lucius had not demanded a resort.
At least it was his hope that if Julian played nice with the blood traitors,
Dumbledore wouldn’t feel the need to watch him excessively. Julian could read
the underlying message: if Julian played his cards right, not only would he be
able to successfully accomplish what he’d set out to do, but perhaps he could
sway some of the Gryffindors to their side along the way, and it wouldn’t be
completely remiss if he became close to the Longbottom boy. Not that anyone
thought he was a real danger to the Dark Lord. Even if Dumbledore believed him
to be the proclaimed “Chosen One”, Julian gave divination very little merit.
And, according to Draco, the boy was practically a squib.
In the end, it all came down to one thing. Whether he wanted to or not, Julian
would do what had to be done like any Malfoy would. He could be polite to the
blood traitors; and maybe even cultivate a friendship or two. At the very
least, he could surely withstand a year here. Then, once the Dark Lord has
reached his full power, the blood traitors and mudbloods would be in their
rightful place.
“It’s really not necessary, Draco. Did you know that Severus is terrified of
snakes?” Julian asked, effectively changing the subject. Just because he’d
accepted being in Gryffindor didn’t mean he liked it, and he certainly didn’t
want to talk about it.
“Is he really?” crowed Draco.
Julian nodded. “Imagine that, the Head of Slytherin, terrified of snakes. Poor
Nxy, he really frightened her with his girlish shrieking.”
“Was that him? I wondered what it was… So, where’s Nxy now?” asked Blaise.
Julian grinned, motioning towards his robes. “With me, of course, you don’t
think I’d let Severus intimidate me, do you? He’s not half as terrifying as he
believes himself to be.”
Blaise’s only response was to raise a dark eyebrow.
Upon arriving in the Great Hall, they separated. Julian went to the Gryffindor
table; the others went to the Slytherin table. He grimaced slightly as he
approached the table. Well, let the show begin, he thought. He took the empty
seat in between the Longbottom boy and two identical red-haired boys.
“Good morning,” he said as he filled his plate with food. He forced a smile on
his face as he turned to the redheads. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Julian
Malfoy.”
“I’m George,” said one, grinning madly.
“And I’m Fred,” finished the other.
“Weasleys I presume?” he asked.
Their matching grins were answer enough.
“I see our reputation has preceded us, brother of mine,” said George, wiping an
imaginary tear from his eye.
Just then Weasley and the mudblood came to the table. Julian was thankful not
to be sitting near him. The boy was completely unkempt, and his robes were
frayed on the ends.
“Hey, Malfoy, why weren’t you in the dorm last night?” asked Weasley. Julian
recoiled slightly. The boy was talking with his mouth full – again. It was
utterly disgusting.
“Honestly, Ronald!” admonished Granger huffily.
Weasley gave her a befuddled look as he continued racking food into his mouth.
“It’s impolite to talk with your mouth full!” she continued, sighing
exasperatedly. No one else seemed to notice their bickering so Julian was sure
this was not the first time it had happened. The girl certainly was bossy.
“Why weren’t you in the dorms?” asked Longbottom quietly. “I know it can’t be
easy being in Gryffindor – everyone thought I should be in Hufflepuff after all
– but we aren’t that bad. Honestly.” Longbottom’s sincerity was rather
charming; even if the thought of being friendly to the so-called “Chosen One”
made Julian feel nauseous.
Julian rewarded him with a small smile. “I thank you for your concern,
Longbottom, but it isn’t anything you’ve done. I’ve been apprenticed to your
Potions Professor; and by law, all apprentices much stay with their masters.”
“Bloody hell, mate, you’re an apprentice to the greasy git?” Weasley exclaimed.
Julian’s grey eyes narrowed. “Severus Snape is one of the foremost leading
Potion Masters in the wizarding world. Not only was he the youngest Potion
Master in a century, but he has pioneered several trademark Potions. You are
lucky enough to learn under him – something many people would give anything to
do and that I am sure is completely wasted on you. He deserves your respect,”
he said in an icy tone. “You’ll find that I don’t take kindly to those who
insult him. Is that understood?”
A few nods were his only answer. Inwardly, he sighed. How was he supposed to
play nice with them?
Granger recovered first. “I’ve read all about apprentices! It’s an honor to be
chosen, but I thought you had to complete your OWLs and NEWTs first.”
“You do,” replied Julian.
“So you have then?” she pressed.
“Of course,” he said but didn’t go any further.
“I’m pants in Potions,” lamented Longbottom. “My gran says it’s a shame because
Herbology – my favorite subject – goes along so well with Potions.”
“It’s not your fault, mate. You know Snape has it in for you! Even if he
didn’t, the other Slytherins are always sabotaging our potions!” said Weasley,
indignantly.
Julian fixed an icy glare on him, but before he could comment, Professor
McGonagall turned up with their time tables.
“Welcome to Gryffindor, Mr. Malfoy. Even though you will not be rooming with
the others, you will have access to the Common Room, should you want to spend
time with your housemates. The password changes weekly and you’ll find that a
prefect can always give it to you, if you ask. Now, normally, I am the one to
make my house’s time tables, but since you must balance your coursework with
your apprenticeship, Professor Snape and I both worked together. If you have
any problems, do feel free to come to me,” she said as she handed him the
parchment.
A brief look told him that he had been correct in his assumption. He would have
very little free time. Along with his required classes – Defense Against the
Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, and History of Magic – he was also taking
Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures. Severus also had him
attending Potions class both with his year-mates and with the NEWT class. Then,
there was the required lab hours, most of witch occurred in the evenings and
throughout the weekend.
Suddenly, Granger gasped loudly. “Look,” she said, indicating the copy of the
Daily Prophet she was immersed in. “’Ollivander, maker of Wands since 1882, was
found dead in his shop sometime yesterday, September the 1st. While cause of
death remains unknown, foul play is suspected,’” she read aloud to them.
Julian’s fork fell noisily to his plate. Ollivander was dead, and not even two
days ago his uncle had assured him he would take care of the case of mistaken
identity. While Julian certainly had no qualms about killing – they were about
to be in war, after all – but this seemed a bit excessive. Surely Lucius hadn’t
killed the man because he’d called him Harry Potter. This led him to wonder if
Severus might not also become involved. He had witnessed the event after all.
He certainly loved his uncle, but he had come to care for the bristly Potions
master as well. Nothing doing, he would just have to warn him to steer clear of
Lucius.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the Weasel, the Mudblood, and Tubby,” drawled Draco
from behind him, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“Manners, Draco,” snapped Julian. He didn’t really care if Draco liked them or
not – he certainly didn’t –, but openly antagonizing one’s opposition was very
foolish. After all, alienating potential allies could be quite costly in the
end. Take his uncle for example. He was no more under imperious than Julian
was, but his well-placed connections in the Ministry allowed him to walk away
from a prison sentence while other Death Eaters continued to rot away in
Azkaban.
Draco sneered and narrowed his eyes but said nothing further to the
Gryffindors. It was then that Julian noticed Blaise next to him, an amused
smirk on his face.
. Pushing his plate away from him, Julian stood up. “It seems we have Potions
together, cousin. Care to show me the way to the classroom?”
“Of course,” Draco replied haughtily. “Let’s go.”
“Well played,” murmured Blaise beside him, his lips curving into a soft smile.
Draco was ahead of them, showing Julian various points of interest along the
way, his air of superiority firmly in place. Julian was amazed in spite of
himself. No wonder the Dark Lord always spoke so fondly of Hogwarts; it was a
truly magical place.
“I do my best,” replied Julian with a smirk.
“Of that, I have no doubt.”
---
Severus’ obsidian eyes fell immediately on Julian when he walked into the class
room. Julian was thankful the only other occupants of the room to witness
Severus yelling at him were Draco and Blaise.
“I expect you hear at least a half hour before classes begin from now on, Mr.
Malfoy, so that you can help me set up for the day. Today, you are to observe
the rest of the class paying close attention to any mistakes that are made, Mr.
Longbottom in particular. Hardly a week goes by without him melting or
exploding a cauldron. See to it that this is no longer the case. And don’t
forget to tie back your hair!” he snarled.
Heaving a sigh, Julian pulled his hair away from his face, fastening it with a
clip at the nape of his neck. “Yes, Professor,” he replied dutifully, stifling
a laugh. It would not do for Severus to hex him on the first day of class.
He followed Severus as he walked towards his private office. Draco and Blaise
were already seated at a table near the front of the room and none of the other
students had entered the class yet. If he planned on warning Severus, it was
best to do so now.
“Sir, may I speak with you?” asked Julian tentatively.
Severus closed his eyes for a moment. “Yes,” he replied in a clipped tone.
“Have you read the paper this morning?”
Severus opened one of his eyes. “No, I haven’t. I’ve had other duties to attend
to as you are well aware. I’m sure there was nothing of any importance in it.”
Julian chewed worriedly on his bottom lip. “See, one thing you have to
understand, Professor, is that my uncle has always been very particular about
those I come into contact with. At school, I’m afford a certain amount of
freedom, but my… activities as well as playmates – not that I had many, mind
you – have always been closely monitored. My father was able to provide a
leeway of sorts, but since my uncle is the Head of the Family, his decisions
are final.”
“That doesn’t seem so terrible,” commented Severus lightly. In truth, it was
classic Lucius, controlling to a fault. Whatever it was Lucius was hiding, it
was no small matter.
“It’s not,” Julian amended quickly. “I told Uncle Lucius about Ollivander. In
hindsight, perhaps it wasn’t the best thing to do, but it just seemed like
something I ought to do. He’s just always so particular…” Julian trailed off.
At Severus’ raised eyebrow, he continued. “Day before yesterday, I told him.
Then, Ollivander was found dead in his shop, just yesterday morning.”
Severus drew in a sharp breath. Of course he had been. It was Lucius’ way. If
the person in question could not be black-mailed, bribed or intimidated, they
were killed. The sound level in the adjoining classroom had risen to a dull
roar, signaling the arrival of the Gryffindors. He sighed heavily and rubbed
his eyes.
“We’ll discuss this further later on. For now, endeavor to keep your mind on
the task ahead of you.”
Julian nodded and the two of them entered the classroom together.
***** Can't Undo My Spell on You *****
Disclaimer: Do I own it? No. Do I wish? Yes.
A/N: Might not update till next Thursday. I'm going out of town for fall break.
I may be able to, but I'm not sure. Also, I assure you I will not be going into
such detail of his every day like I have, but I just wanted to give an overview
of his first official day of classes :D Enjoy.
Chapter Eight: Cant undo my spell on you
If Julian thought that Severus was in his element during their lessons over the
summer holidays, it was nothing compared to how he was when he taught an actual
class. His brilliance – as expected – was completely wasted on the idiotic
creatures currently sitting at their benches, not paying attention.
When it was time for the practical portion of the class, Julian began making
his rounds. Their abilities – or lack thereof – were really quite pathetic, if
one stopped to think about it. Mistakes are a part of any learning process,
Julian realized this, but the mistakes they were making were ridiculous.
“Are you trying to blow up the class room, or are you just a fool?” he snapped
at Pansy Parkinson. “Your slices are much too thick! It’s nearly double the
recommended amount. I would think a Slytherin would know better.”
Pansy narrowed her eyes at him. “Do shut up, Malfoy. You’re just sore you got
sorted into Gryffindor. You’re a disgrace to the Malfoy name,” she spat.
“Am I?” asked Julian, his voice low and dangerous.
“Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you leave Miss Parkinson to do her work,” said Severus
who had appeared beside them.
“Very well, Professor,” Julian said. He waited until Severus turned his
attention elsewhere before leaning in close to Pansy, his lips nearly touching
her ear. “I’m sure your father’s Master would be very interested to hear how
you are treating his heir. Very interested, indeed. Shall I inform him?”
Pansy, Julian knew, was really not a fool – not that she didn’t try at every
given moment to prove that the opposite was true. When he pulled away, her eyes
were wide and fearful, and her already pale-face had lost what little color it
had. Julian’s eyebrow rose in questioning. She quickly shook her head before
returning her attention to her potion. After taking one last look over the
Slytherins’ progress, he stalked towards the Gryffindor side of the room.
The Dark Lord was going to be very unhappy with him, but it would not do for
Pansy to fight him every step of the way. It would make an already unbearable
situation that much more unbearable. Perhaps now she would leave him alone. He
had spoken the truth, however. Pansy’s father had reason to worry. The Dark
Lord wasn’t too pleased with the number of servants who renounced him after his
fall. There was coming a day – sooner than they realized – when they would pay.
Lucius would have paid as well, if not for Julian.
He sighed as he moved around the room, observing the class. With the exception
of Draco, Blaise, and – loathe though he were to admit it – Granger, the entire
class was absolutely useless. He corrected mistakes as he saw them, but by that
time, many of the potions were already ruined.
And Longbottom definitely was the most hopeless of them all.
“No!” cried Julian, grabbing Longbottom’s wrist before he could add the
powdered hellebore. “You have to wait until the color changes, else you risk an
explosion. Unless you enjoy being doused in extremely poisonous solutions?”
Longbottom shook his head quickly, his dark hair falling into his face. “No,”
he muttered, glumly. “I wouldn’t enjoy that at all.”
“What do you know?” grumbled Weasley from beside Longbottom.
“Obviously more than you, otherwise you would not have watched as he nearly
killed himself and took you along with him,” snapped Julian. “I’m merely trying
to help. If you’d rather I not…” he trailed off.
“No,” Longbottom nearly pleaded. “We do need your help.”
Julian nodded once. “Now add the hellebore – slowly, mind you.”
He watched sharply as the boy did so, heaving a sigh of relief as the bubbling
solution turned a deep blue. “In five minutes – and not one minute more –
bottle it. If you leave it on the heat for more than five minutes, it’ll ruin.”
He told the pair of boys before moving onto the next table.
Granger was sitting with a nondescript blonde girl. Julian wanted to say her
name was Lavender Brown but he couldn’t be sure. Granger’s lips were pursed and
her brow furrowed in obvious frustration. Julian took a look into her cauldron.
Her potion was a deep purple instead of the blue it was supposed to be.
“Your color is off,” he commented.
“I’m aware of that,” she snapped with a huff.
Julian ignored her remark and continued. “You’ve not taken one look at the
board, have you?”
“Why would I need to? The book’s directions were satisfactory!”
“Of course they were,” he soothed in a mocking tone, “that would be why the
color of your solution is correct.”
“Well, what would you have done?”
“Me?” he asked innocently, widening his eyes. She nodded. “I would have
listened to the Professor’s lecture and read the instructions on the board.
Books are not infallible, Granger. There was a mistake in the printing of this
particular edition. One you would have noticed had you bothered to look.”
“Indeed,” said a silky voice behind them. “I think that will be five points
from Gryffindor for your inability to pay attention and another five points for
your attitude towards my apprentice. Oh, and Miss Granger? Evanesco.”
Ignoring the indignant look on Granger’s face as her potion was vanished;
Julian went back to the other side of the room. The majority of the students
were already finished. There were several Gryffindors still working but
Julian’s patience was wearing thin, and he desperately needed a break from
them. He smiled when Blaise caught his eye as he quickly made his way to their
bench. A vial of deep blue potion sat between them.
“You look a bit frazzled, cousin,” Draco drawled, earning a glare from Julian.
“Thank Merlin this class is nearly over. I do not know how Professor Snape does
this day in and day out ! I’m one step away from hexing half the people in this
room!” sighed the blonde-haired boy.
“You really are quite good,” remarked Blaise. “Not one explosion this entire
period. It must be some sort of record.”
“Next we have Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Black,” Draco said.
“I’m sure you know all about him, Julian. It’s a pity he was proven innocent.
He was my mother’s cousin before he was disowned. Do you think he actually is
innocent?”
“Unfortunately,” muttered Julian. He knew, more than most people, that Peter
Pettigrew was very much still alive – for the moment. Though he wished it were
not so, fool of a man that Pettigrew was. “He and my father were quite close in
school, I believe.” In truth, it was Julian’s belief they were lovers of a
sort. He had little proof except the pained look on his father’s face whenever
the name, Sirius Black, was brought up. That and the fact that Aunt Andromeda
had visited more often since the man's escape from Azkaban.
Class ended with Severus berating those who were unable to finish their potions
and assigning the class an essay on their next potion and its ingredients.
Julian watched as Longbottom packed his supplies and readied himself to leave
the class.
“Julian!” snapped Draco. “Are you coming or not?”
“Of course I’m coming,” Julian said. He pursed his lips for a moment. He had no
desire to babysit Longbottom all term long. If he offered to tutor him, not
only would he be able to get close to him, but it would save him a lot of
trouble in the long term, and perhaps he could use it to fulfill a portion of
his required lab hours. “Wait for me outside; I need to talk to the Professor
for a moment.”
With a nod, Draco and Blaise left the room. Longbottom was still packing when
Julian reached his bench. He saw Severus turn his gaze on him as he approached
Longbottom.
“Longbottom, I’ve decided to tutor you rather than risk my life on a daily
basis,” stated Julian.
“Tutor me? Why would you want to?” asked the boy, his confusion apparent.
“Besides the reason I’ve already stated?”
Longbottom nodded, eyeing Julian warily.
“Do you enjoy being humiliated every time you step into this room?” asked
Julian, perhaps sharper than he’d intended to be.
“No!” said Longbottom quickly. “’Course I don’t!”
“Then you shouldn’t be concerned on why I want to help. Just be glad that I’m
willing. Wouldn’t your grandmother be pleased if your potion’s marks were to
rise?”
A defiant look crossed Longbottom’s face. “All right, if you’re sure you don’t
mind.”
“Quite sure,” said Julian smoothly. “I’ll let you know when I’m available,
hmm?”
Julian leaned against the bench as Longbottom left the room.
“A word, Mr. Malfoy, if you please,” said Severus when the room was emptied.
Julian smiled coyly at Severus as he walked to the Professor’s desk. “You can
have as many words as you want,” he said.
“What do you think you’re doing?” hissed the Potions master when Julian was in
front of him. “Do you have any idea who Longbottom is?”
Julian gave the man a pointed look. “Of course I do,” he snapped.
“Then, I repeat, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Only what is requested of me, Master Snape,” snarled Julian. “Or have you
forgotten that I am not here on a holiday? Besides, I’ve no malignant plans for
him. I’m merely giving him the tutoring, tutoring he desperately needs, in case
it's passed your notice.”
Obsidian eyes narrowed. “I am well aware of Longbottom's many inadequacies.
Don’t forget to report here after your last class, and do not be late. I’ve a
copy of your schedule, so I shall know if you dally.”
Julian gave the man a terse nod before leaving the room. Defense Against the
Dark Arts was a total nightmare. If the glare the man gave him when he entered
the room was any indication, Professor Black seemed determined to hate him
though Julian had given him no provocation,
“There are three spells which are forbidden to use. Use of any one of the three
is enough for a life sentence in Azkaban,” stated the Professor. “Something I
can assure you that each and every one of you should avoid. Who here can tell
me the three spells?”
The entire class was shifting in their chairs, glancing nervously at one
another as if too frightened to even speak of the curses.
“Ridiculous,” muttered Julian as he thrust his hand into the air. He shouldn’t
have expected any less though from the people too frightened to even utter the
Dark Lord’s name.
“No one?” said the ex-convict as he looked around the room before finally
noticing Julian’s hand. “Malfoy, then.”
“The spells together are called the Unforgivables due to the prison sentence
incurred with their usage. Separately they are known as the Cruciatus, the
Imperius, and the Killing Curse. Shall I continue?” asked Julian politely.
“That’s…er … right,” said Professor Black reluctantly, but he did not award any
points.
Granger hesitantly raised her hand. “Can they be blocked?” she asked when he
called on her.
“There is no known way to block any of the Unforgivables. Avoiding them is your
best bet,” he said. “Now, the incantations for them are…”
Julian’s mind began to wander as the professor continued his lecture. He was
quite familiar with the Unforgivables. His uncle had taught him all about them,
of course. He had no desire to use them, though. There were plenty of other
spells designed to do similar things – none of them carrying a prison sentence.
Besides, if Julian were to kill someone, he’d not want it done painlessly.
Using the Killing Curse would be far too easy. But his uncle was particularly
fond of the Cruciatus, however, as was the Dark Lord, so he had learned to cast
them.
“Why bother teaching them at all if we can’t block them or cast them?” Draco
asked him when class was over.
Julian shrugged. “Personally, I don’t see the harm in the “Unforgivables”. I’d
much rather be hit with the Killing Curse instead of, oh, say the
Disembowelment Curse. And the Cruciatus? How amateur.”
“You’re scary,” stated Blaise.
Julian flashed a wicked smile. “All in a day’s work.”
Julian left Draco and Blaise to attend their Charms class while he went to his
Transfiguration class with the Gryffindors. Professor McGonagall was an
adequate teacher though he already knew the material she was teaching. He took
notes, however, if for no other reason than to pass the time and was the first
one in the class to turn his flower into a cactus, earning five points to
Gryffindor much to Granger’s chagrin. She’d glared at him and thrown herself
into completing the transfiguration. It seemed the mudblood was used to being
top student. No doubt Julian was a most unwelcome opponent for her.
After Transfigurations was lunch. He walked with the other Gryffindors to the
Great Hall, but instead of following them to their table, he took the empty
chair next to Blaise and opposite of Draco at the Slytherin Table.
“Tired of the Gryffindors already?” asked Draco with a smirk.
“Yes,” sighed Julian. “Granger’s all worked up because I’ve proven to her that
those with a pureblooded lineage are better students than those without. Of
course, she didn’t use those exact words. I believe what she said was: ‘Oh, you
think you’re so clever!’ And if I have to listen to Weasley or that wretched
Irish boy moan about Quidditch being canceled this year, I won't be held
responsible for my actions.”
Blaise raised an elegant eyebrow. "Funny, that. I've had to listen to the same
from Draco here. I keep telling him it's the Triwizard Tournament. It's
practically a once in a life time event."
“Tournament or no tournament, I still can’t believe there’s no bloody Quidditch
this year,” whined Draco. “Especially now that I’ve got a Firebolt.”
“Any idea when the other schools are arriving?” asked Blaise.
Julian pursed his lips. “End of October, I believe.”
“Any of your friends coming?” asked Pansy who had avoided talking to him since
Potions.
“Several… acquaintances of mine will be attending, yes. I’m not incredibly
close to them, but we did train for the tournament together last year. I
suspect they aren’t too keen on me being their opposition now. Not when I was
the best in our lessons,” said Julian.
“Julian, you are as humble as ever, I see,” Draco remarked.
“Come now, Draco, why should I be humble? Malfoys always strive to be the best,
as you well know.”
Pansy groaned and Blaise rolled his eyes.
“I thought one of them was bad, and now we have two,” said a boy named Theodore
Nott. Julian eyed him speculatively. His father had been a Death Eater and was
now in Azkaban. Not a very talented wizard, but loyal nonetheless.
“Well,” said Blaise brightly. “We don’t exactly have two of them, do we? One of
them belong to the Gryffindors, but it is comforting to know that if we lose
Draco, we’ve got a spare!”
Julian glowered at him. “Kindly stop discussing us as if we were possessions!”
Everyone laughed and continued eating as if he hadn’t spoken at all. The rest
of the day passed without event, and before he knew it, he was back in the
Potions classroom. Severus, who had been marking essays, looked up when he
walked in.
“The headmaster has requested you join him in his office,” he began.
Julian’s breath caught in his throat. So soon… “Why? I’ve not broken any
rules,” he asked. The word yet hung uncomfortably in the air.
“The headmaster did not see fit to tell me the reasoning behind his request,
Mr. Malfoy, only that he would like to speak with you. If you would follow me,
please,” said Severus.
Julian fiddled with the chain on the locket while he followed Severus to a pair
of gargoyles.
“Blood pops,” Severus told the gargoyle.
The door opened up, revealing a circular staircase.
“Do not forget to come back to the class when he is finished with you,” snarled
Severus before stalking away from him, “and for the love of Merlin – stop
touching that locket!” the last part was a deadly hiss.
Julian snatched his hands away from the aforementioned necklace. In truth, he
had not even been aware he was touching it. He stepped onto the circular
staircase and as it moved, he frantically tried to reinforce his occlumency
shields.
The headmaster was sitting behind his desk reading a thick tome when Julian
stepped into the office. Julian’s eyes scanned the room quickly. The magical
energy in the room was heavy.
“Mr. Malfoy, my dear boy, it is a pleasure to finally meet you face to face. I
hope you are settling into Hogwarts?” asked the elderly wizard. “Please, have a
seat.” He motioned to an empty chair.
Reluctantly, Julian took a seat. The locket was burning white-hot against his
chest as he looked at the wizard in front of him. He felt an all encompassing
rage that was not his own.
“Mr. Malfoy? Are you well?” asked the man, kindly.
Julian blinked. He had not realized that the Professor had been speaking to him
for several minutes without response. The knuckles of his hands were white with
the strain of clutching the chairs handle, his fingers desperately wishing to
grab for the wand in his pocket and kill the headmaster.
“Yes,” said Julian quietly. “Forgive me, Professor, it’s been a long day. I
must have drifted off.” He took a deep breath in a vain attempt to reign in his
anger. He had to get it together! Malfoys were not weak. The Dark Lord trusted
Julian to do this – and do this well. Failure was not an option.
“It’s quite all right. It is for that very reason I have asked you to join me
this afternoon. Would you like a cup of tea?”
Julian shook his head. “No, sir, but thank you all the same.”
“Very well. How are you settling in?” queried the man as he fixed himself a cup
of tea.
“Fine, Hogwarts is a charming place,” intoned Julian.
The headmaster smiled. “That it is, my dear boy. Now, I’ve been informed that
you have offered to tutor our young Neville?”
Julian eyed the man speculatively. Nothing escaped his notice. Julian would
certainly have to be more careful from now on. It would not do for the man to
become aware of his other plans. “Is that a problem, sir?” he asked softly. “I
felt it would be remiss of me to not do so if I’ve the talent. Not when he has
the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulder.”
Professor Dumbledore beamed. “I daresay that shall not be a problem. It is most
splendid, in fact. I hope the two of you will become close friends.”
Julian cocked his head to one side as he felt the tell-tell brush of
legilimency flutter across his shields. The heat of the locket intensified with
the subtle probing nearly causing Julian to cry out in pain. “May I be excused,
Professor? If you need nothing further, of course,” he bit out.
“Certainly! Have a good evening, Mr. Malfoy,” the headmaster said with an odd
look in his eyes.
Julian managed walk calmly out of the office – just barely. His hand clenched
over where the locket. His breath was coming out in harsh gasps when he finally
found the potions classroom. The heat was fading now, but Julian could feel the
skin around the locket blistering. He began yanking at his robes, struggling to
remove the layers he wore.
Severus was frozen at his desk, quill in hand. “Julian? What happened?” he
asked.
“I have to get it off!” cried Julian, his fingers deftly unbuttoning the
buttons on the long-sleeved shirt required of all students to wear. His outer
robe and jumper already lay discarded on the floor. Severus was at his side at
once.
“You cannot disrobe in a classroom!” Severus said, dumbfounded, trying to
ignore the twitch of his groin as he watched the boy undressed.
“I have to – I have to get it off!”
Severus grabbed the boy’s clothing form the floor and led him to his private
office. Merlin, what was that fool of a boy thinking? He took a deep breath and
turned to find Julian bare-chested. On his chest lay an ornate silver locket
with a circle of angry-looking blisters marring the otherwise smooth surface.
“I’m going to ask once more – what happened?”
“Do you have any healing balm?” Julian asked, sidestepping Severus’ question
completely as he struggled with the fastener. The pain had receded a bit once
the fabric was no longer rubbing against the inflamed skin, but had not gone
away completely. He was surprised, however, to discover the fastener would not
unlock. He could not remove the locket.
“I do, but you ought to go to the Infirmary,” said Severus, but he did go to an
elaborate cabinet where he kept his finished potions and began searching for
the requested balm.
“I can’t go to the Infirmary,” Julian stated firmly. He gasped when he felt a
cold sensation on his chest. The professor’s fingers were gliding softly over
his chest, taking the pain away and leaving a tingling sensation.
“This is not an ordinary locket.” It was a statement, not a question.
Julian bit his lip, nervously. “No, it is not,” he agreed, sinking into a
chair.
“How did this happen? What caused it?”
Julian breathed a sigh of relief as the last of the blisters disappeared.
Severus pressed the container of balm in his hand before taking the seat beside
him.
“I didn’t know this would happen – he never told me it was possible!” Julian
exclaimed suddenly. “He should have warned me – I should have been prepared.
And he should bloody well get his emotions in order straight away. He can’t
possibly expect me to be in control if he is going to do this every bloody
time!” Julian continued to rant.
“I expect you to answer my question, Julian.”
“I’ll tell you – I probably shouldn’t, but I suspect this situation may occur
from time to time, and I may need your help in the future. You must never ever
tell, Professor. Ever. First, I want you to cast the strongest privacy ward you
know – the strongest.”
Severus gave him a withering look and a long-suffering sigh, but did cast the
ward effectively sealing them in an invisible bubble.
Satisfied, Julian continued. “The dark lord will be furious with me for
telling, but he should have thought about that before.” He paused. “Have you
ever wondered why it was the Dark Lord survived after being hit with the
Killing Curse?”
Severus’ eyes narrowed slightly. He pursed his lips. “As I told the Dark Lord,
I had little reason to believe he survived; indeed I thought – until this
summer – that he was very much dead.”
“He can’t. Be killed, that is. He’s taken certain… measures to ensure his
longevity.”
Obsidian eyes widened. “Horcruxes,” he breathed. “The Dark Lord is immortal.”
“Indeed he is,” agreed Julian.
“And the locket? It’s a horcrux, isn’t it?”
“Just so. He gave it to me for safe-keeping. It offers a certain amount of
protection for me as well, and – as you have just witnessed – it cannot be
taken off. It seems he failed to mention the other… side effects,” Julian
snarled.
“What happened when you met with Dumbledore? Did he suspect anything?”
“I very nearly killed the headmaster just moments ago, that’s what happened!
Had I not managed to restrain myself, he would be dead as we speak. I don’t
understand what happened, not fully at least. My best guess is that the Dark
Lord’s hatred for the headmaster left an imprint on the portion of his soul
encased within the locket. As for whether he suspects something… I can’t say.
He asked me about my offer to tutor Longbottom,” Julian smirked maliciously. “I
told him I was only doing what I could to help prepare the Chosen One.”
Severus nodded. No doubt the headmaster did suspect something, but he’d not
take any actions. “I shall leave you to get dressed then. I hope you weren’t
under the impression this would excuse you from your lessons this evening,”
said Severus, arching an ebony eyebrow.
“Of course not,” said Julian. He grinned at the Professor as he exited the
office. Finally alone, Julian’s head fell against the back of the chair, the
enormity of the situation threatening to overcome him. How would he ever get
through an entire year here if he could not get through an entire day of
classes? He dressed quickly and went to join Severus. He could admit – only to
himself, of course – that perhaps he was in over his head, but he would
persevere, and he would most certainly be writing to his uncle this night. He
had some words to exchange with the Dark Lord.
***** The Sweetest Sadness in Your Eyes *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? His action sets off a chain
of events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions Master -
reeling.
===============================================================================
Chapter nine: The Sweetest Sadness in your Eyes
By the end of the first week of school, Julian was beginning to think he’d made
a rather large mistake coming to Hogwarts. Between classes, lessons with
Severus and tutoring Longbottom – who Julian had begun to believe was the most
pathetic excuse for a wizard, more so than even Pettigrew – Julian didn’t have
any spare time. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, he had somehow acquired some
shadows of the Gryffindor variety. Ever since he offered to tutor Longbottom
they followed him around like little lost souls and had taken to coming with
Longbottom to the tutoring sessions.
Saturday morning found Julian eating breakfast glaring balefully at his cousin
from across the Great Hall. He had just received a letter from his father.
Julian’s letter to his father was still unanswered – a rare thing indeed. While
his father and he did not have the closest relationship, he knew his father
loved him, and it was odd that he hadn’t responded to his letters. Lucius
hadn’t responded to the rather scathing letter Julian sent him several days
past either. Of course the letter wasn’t for Lucius, but he expected Lucius was
reluctant to deliver it to the Dark Lord. He would have to send another. It was
imperative that he get in touch with the Dark Lord, however. Every time Julian
was near the headmaster, it was all he could do to not kill the man. The rage –
while exquisite – was inconvenient. Thankfully the locket no longer burned, but
Julian suspected that was because he was not in close proximity with the man.
“Julian, we’re going to the library after breakfast to work on the
Transfiguration essay, would you like to join us?” asked Granger.
Julian took a deep breath. He’d told them – in no uncertain terms – to cease
calling him Julian. They had, of course, ignored him, insisting that friends
don’t call friends by their surnames. He couldn’t agree more. They were in no
way, shape, or form, his friends. “I’ve already finished,” he said.
“You can’t have!” insisted Granger. “She only assigned it yesterday. You
haven’t had proper time to research it.”
“I assure you, Granger, that I have completed the assignment as directed. It
was quite simple since I covered this topic – in quite a bit more detail – last
year at school as well as with tutors the year before.”
“Blimey, mate, don’t you do anything other than studying?” asked Weasley, once
again speaking with his mouth full. This was another area of annoyance that
Julian had been forced to ignore. After days of cutting remarks about it – many
of which completely eluded the red-haired boy – Julian realized that Weasley
had poor home training and, as such, was a lost cause. That did not mean,
however, that Julian was not disgusted by the action.
Julian sent him a withering look. “Of course I do, Weasley. But seeing as I
have come to Hogwarts to learn it would be remiss of me to do otherwise. I do
enjoy flying when the opportunity arises, however.”
Flying, it turned out, was a topic Weasley and a few of the other boys could
speak about at great length. Julian quickly finished his breakfast and left the
Great Hall with the others none the wiser. He had the rest of the morning
relatively free, and he planned to spend it translating the Slytherin journals.
Severus, he knew, would be fascinated by their contents. Julian was sure the
books contained the break through potion he needed, all he had to do was find
it.
Severus was reading by the fire when Julian returned to their quarters after
breakfast.
“You’ve a letter.”
Julian whipped around. “A letter?” he repeated dumbly.
Severus merely raised an ebony eyebrow, obsidian eyes glittering with
amusement. “Yes, a letter. Shall I explain to you the concept, Mr. Malfoy?
Surely you’ve received them from time to time.”
Julian’s lips curled into a sneer, but he kept back the acerbic remark that was
on the tip of his tongue. “No need for explanations, Professor.”
“Very well.” He said and pulled an envelope from his pocket. Julian knew who it
was from even before he saw the Slytherin Coat of Arms on the wax seal.
Julian opened it where he stood, not even caring that Severus seemed quite
interested in the letter’s contents. In less than a minute he had read the
contents. Twice. Disgusted, he dropped the letter on the floor, grabbed the
wand in his pocket and snarled “Incendio!” taking great pleasure it watching
the letter crinkle and burn.
“Good news, I take it?” said Severus from his position on the couch.
“No,” Julian bit out. “Not in the slightest.”
Indeed, the news was most assuredly not good. The locket was connected to the
Dark Lord in a much more intimate way than Julian had ever imagined. Well, he’d
known it was intimately connected, it did contain a portion of the man’s soul,
he expected nothing less. What he did not expect was that it allowed the Dark
Lord to be connected to Julian whilst he wore it. So, at any given moment, the
Dark Lord was able observe Julian, and by proxy, those around him. Julian kept
nothing from the Dark Lord of course. It was the principle of the matter. Did
the Dark Lord not trust him? Had he not proven his worth?
“Am I to assume this pathetic display is in regards to the locket?”
Julian nodded. “I suggest, Professor, you do nothing in my presence that you do
not want the Dark Lord made aware of.”
“Are you threatening me?” asked Severus, his voice soft and dangerous.
“No, merely warning. There is an enchantment on the locket. He’s connected it
to me somehow, so that he is able to … spy on me, for want of a better word,
whenever he chooses through it. Whether you choose to heed that warning is, of
course, entirely your decision.”
Severus sighed heavily. “No need, Mr. Malfoy. You’ve effectively terminated my
career as a spy.”
“Do try not to sound so desolate about it, Professor. You should be happy to be
without the complication of serving two masters. You’re on the winning side,
after all. I’ll not stop until the Dark Lord is in power.” Julian said smiling
as he left the living room to retrieve the Slytherin journal.
He brought it back into the living room and dropped into the comfortable chair
across from Severus. Severus raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing as
Julian opened the book and began his translations. An hour later, Julian found
something that had potential.
“Professor? Does unicorn hair have the same properties as unicorn blood?”
“Similar but not the same – if the hair is given freely.”
“Hmm,” Julian hummed. If he could combine this potion and the Dark Lord’s
usual, he may restore his magical core permanently, along with any other
maladies the Dark Lord may suffer from. Though it would not restore the man’s
body to its previous state, but the Dark Lord was certain there was a ritual
that could do so. “Can unicorn hair and phoenix tears be safely combined?”
Severus closed the book he had been reading. “It’s never been done before.
Theoretically,” he paused, “they should be able to be safely combined. The
combination may be fatal to someone who is as immersed in dark magic as the
Dark Lord is. The dark rituals he has performed have altered his body such that
the unicorn hair and phoenix tears would act as a poison, the exact opposite of
what you desire.”
Julian chewed on his lower lip and furrowed his brow. “So… I’ll have to find
the purification ritual first. Then use the potion. Then performthe restoration
ritual. This is more complicated than expected.”
“A purification ritual?” asked Severus curiously.
“Yes, it will undo the various dark rituals he has performed, leaving him as he
was before, before the madness took over,” Julian finished, reluctantly.
“And he’s agreed to do this?” asked Severus lightly. He could admit the idea
did intrigue him. There had been a reason he had pledged himself to the man
after all. Indeed before he had informed the Dark Lord of the prophecy, the man
had been quite charismatic. Once he knew of the prophecy, he became obsessed
with immortality and exterminating the Potters.
Julian hesitated. “Not as of yet, but he will! There is no other way. His
magic, as it is, is too unstable, too volatile. You’ve seen him; you know he is
not well. Pettigrew found a ritual but it leaves much to be desired. The
purification ritual combined with the potion and the restoration ritual will
leave him as he was when he was younger.”
“Volatile?” asked Severus.
Julian nodded. “Yes, he cannot control the amount of power that goes into his
spells. He could, for instance, cast Stupefy and kill you without even trying.”
“That’s… inconvenient.”
“Quite, but manageable if only the opposite did not apply as well. While his
spells have a tendency to be overly strong, there is also the possibility of
them being overly weak, and it would not do for the Dark Lord to be seen as
weak. That is why it is imperative that he agree to the rituals.”
Severus watched as Julian went back to his book. A strand of blonde wavy hair
fell into his face as he read. Severus fought the urge to reach over and tuck
the errant strand behind Julian’s ear.
“And if the Dark Lord refuses?” he queried.
Julian looked up from his book, grey eyes flashing in determination. “Then,
I’ll just find another way. I won’t stop until he has been properly restored to
power; no matter what it takes.”
“No matter what?” repeated Severus.
“No matter what,” confirmed Julian firmly.
--
“You look like shite, cousin,” Draco said as Julian plopped down next to Blaise
during breakfast on Monday.
“Thank you for the observation,” replied Julian, dryly.
“Busy weekend?” asked Blaise lightly.
Julian nodded as he filled his plate. Busy was a slight understatement. He’d
spent the majority of Saturday and Sunday in the lab. He hadn’t planned on a
tutoring session during the weekend at all, but Granger had cornered him on
Sunday afternoon when he was leaving the library and would not take no for an
answer. Well, that was not exactly true, he thought. She would have taken no
for an answer, but the Dark Lord had chosen that moment to make himself known,
the locket burning hot against his chest again. So Julian had agreed to the
session, unwilling to incur the Dark Lord’s wrath.
“What did you do? I was hoping to challenge you for a seeker’s game,” said
Draco haughtily, “to prove to Blaise that I am better than you.”
“I was in the lab,” Julian said shortly. “Lessons with Professor Snape, you
know. Since we both have normal lessons during the week, I have to fit a good
deal of my training in the weekend.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his
voice. Sometimes – very rarely, mind – Julian found himself wishing that he
could be as carefree as Draco, but that was not to be, at least not until he
had finished what he had started.
“Poor Juli,” cooed Pansy from next to a dark-haired girl Julian thought was
called Millicent.
Julian sent a glare her way, but she seemed, on the whole, completely
unaffected.
“What are the lessons like?” asked Blaise. “Is it like in the normal class?”
What were the lessons like? Julian repeated the question back to himself.
“Well,” Julian said slowly. “It involves me experimenting, and Snape berating
me at every turn. He is quite liberal with the amount of points he takes from
Gryffindor as well. I doubt he realizes I could care less about the points. He
won’t assign detention because he knows I’ve not the time to serve it, so he
seems determined to inflict as much emotional abuse as possible to compensate.”
Blaise gave him a sympathetic look. “If it makes you feel better, he wouldn’t
have taken you on as an apprentice if he didn’t believe you had talent. He
treats most Gryffindors that way.”
A small smile played on Julian’s lips. Snape had been in top form after their
conversation Saturday morning, unable to let the slightest mistake go without
reprimand. Julian knew the real reason for the man’s vitriol. He hadn’t missed
the secret glances the Potions master sent him during their lessons or whenever
he was in their quarters. Nor had he missed the tension between them, tension
that had become prevalent since the Professor had seen him partially undressed.
“Don’t you look like the cat that got the cream,” exclaimed Pansy.
Julian narrowed his eyes at the chit. “I’ve not a clue as to what you’re
referencing, Pansy, so do close your mouth.”
“I think Julian fancies someone!” squealed Pansy. When Julian started to
protest, she continued. “You can’t deny it! I know that look when I see it. Who
is she?”
“I most assuredly do not fancy someone nor do I have a girlfriend,” protested
Julian fiercely.
Blaise raised an eyebrow at the blonde-haired boy. “Is that so?” he asked
softly, flicking his eyes down Julian’s body before meeting his gaze. A soft
pink flush spread on Julian’s pale cheeks.
“Yes, it is,” huffed Julian. “See you lot in Potions.” He pushed his plate away
and headed towards the door, not noticing Blaise following behind him.
Before he reached the dungeons, a hand reached out and pulled him into one of
the many alcoves. Julian blinked several times before realizing he was looking
into the dark green eyes of Blaise. The look Blaise was giving him sent shivers
through his entire body.
“Blaise?” stammered Julian. His heartbeat was thundering in his chest.
“I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you on the train,” murmured Blaise,
moving closer to Julian.
His hand caressed Julian’s check before he leaned in and pressed his lips to
Julian’s. Surprised, Julian gasped and Blaise used this opportunity to deepen
the kiss, his tongue tentatively exploring Julian’s mouth. Julian returned the
kiss eagerly, moaning softly as their tongues met. A searing heat radiating
from the locket caused Julian to pull away from Blaise abruptly.
“I’ve got to go,” muttered Julian before he fled down the hall.
“You are late, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points from Gryffindor for your tardiness,”
snapped a silky voice as Julian entered the Potions classroom.
Julian nodded but said nothing, choosing instead to hurry around the room
lighting the cauldrons and gathering ingredients from the store room. Of all
the things he had expected to happen today, Blaise kissing him was definitely
not on that list. It wasn’t so much that he minded the kiss. No, he had enjoyed
it very much. Of course, there was a part of him that wished it was the potions
master who had pulled him into a dark corner and kissed him. Not that he
would... even if Julian was right in his assumption that the man was attracted
to him. It would definitely take some persuasion for him to act. Julian had a
feeling that Severus' morals would accept nothing less. All of this was of
little consequence, however. Julian simply had no time for romantic pursuits.
The locket was still heated indicating the Dark Lord was probably still
observing them. Julian sighed as the students began to drift into the class.
When Blaise and Draco entered, along with Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy, he blushed
furiously in a manner most unbecoming of a Malfoy. He took several deep breaths
before turning back to his work.
Severus began the lecture, and it was all Julian could do to not groan out
loud. Today they were starting on antidotes. While some antidotes were fairly
simple to brew, the simplest mistakes could make them fatal. Not to mention
that they contain the poison they cure. He would have to pay close attention to
Longbottom so that he would not be given the opportunity to kill himself.
“You ate with the Slytherins this morning,” accused Weasley as Julian watched
the two boys prepare their ingredients.
“Astute as always, Weasley,” drawled Julian. “Draco is my cousin and my oldest
friend. Is it so surprising that I want to spend time with him? Now, if you’re
quite finished discussing my dining arrangements, perhaps you can get started
on the antidotes, hmm? Contrary to popular belief, potions are not known to
brew themselves.”
Weasley sent him a glare but began his potion without further argument. He
helped Weasley and Longbottom until their potions were past the critical mark
and went on to check the others. He could feel Blaise’s eyes follow him as he
walked about the room. Everyone seemed to be doing well, so Julian felt it safe
to approach the bench that Draco and Blaise shared.
“Granger’s staring at you,” informed Draco.
“Is she?” drawled Julian lazily. “It seems that I’ve become part of some
Gryffindor outreach program. Pity that I would rather curse them than look at
them.” Julian glanced over to find that Granger was indeed watching him
intently. She did, at least, have the grace to blush and avert her gaze when
caught.
“Gryffindor outreach program?” asked Blaise, arching an elegant eyebrow.
“Surely you’ve noticed the way they follow me around? Apparently, they think
I’m nice,” said Julian with a dark laugh.
“And aren’t you?” was Blaise’s retort.
“I’m a Malfoy,” returned Julian with a noncommittal shrug. “I am whatever I
need to be.” He glanced over at Longbottom and Weasley who were nervously
looking at one another. He heaved a sigh. “I should get back to those two
before they end up poisoning one another.”
The rest of the morning went by without event. Professor Black continued with
his lectures on the Unforgivables in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Before
lunch, Julian found himself out at Hagrid’s hut with the other Gryffindors and
Slytherins looking at some rather odd looking creatures. His eyes grew wide
when he realized what they were.
“Are those baby manticores?” Julian breathed out in a horrified whisper.
“Aye, close yeh are, Mr. Malfoy. I call ‘em Blast-ended Skrewts. Bred ‘em
myself!” said Hagrid in a loud boisterous voice, obviously proud of what Julian
could only call an abomination.
“With what?” said Weasley in an equally horrified voice.
“Fire-crabs. Now, they’ve only just hatched so they’ll be needing their
mummies. That’s where yeh lot come in. I want yeh to grab yehself a partner.
Together yeh’ll be responsible for the care of one of the blast-ended skrewts.”
Before any of the students could protest, a stern-faced Professor McGonagell
and several Aurors – including Nymphadora – approached Hagrid.
“We need to see Julian Malfoy,” McGonagall told him.
“Be my partner?” Julian pleaded with Draco before gathering his belongings.
Draco nodded his acceptance, and Julian followed the Professor and the Aurors
to the Headmaster’s office, apprehension filling him.
“Lemon Drops,” intoned McGonagall to the gargoyles once they had arrived.
Julian tried to calm himself as they ascended to the Headmaster’s office.
Nymphadora shot him a reassuring smile – although her unnatural pallor ruined
the effect.
Instead of his normal genial smile, the Headmaster looked saddened which
further confused Julian. The locket, for the moment, lay cold on his chest.
“Won’t you have a seat, Mr. Malfoy?” started Professor Dumbledore.
Julian acquiesced if for no other reason than to hurry the proceedings.
“May I ask why I’ve been pulled from class? By Aurors no less?” inquired
Julian. “I’ve broken no laws that I’m aware of.”
It was Nymphadora who spoke next. “Juli, it’s your Father,” she said, her voice
wavering slightly.
Julian gave her a confused look. “My father? I’m sure he's not broken any rules
either! I’ll testify under veritaserum, if you’d like.”
“That will not be necessary,” said Dumbledore. “Your father has done nothing
wrong.”
“Well,” said Julian irritably. “Then what is the purpose of this meeting?” Not
that he minded… any time away from those wretched creatures was time well spent
as far as he was concerned but it was nearing lunch.
Nymphadora started again. “My mum went to see your father this morning, Juli.
He hadn’t answered her letters, and she was worried. She found him when she got
there… he’s dead, Juli,” she said before promptly bursting into tears.
***** But I'm so very tired *****
A/N Sorry this took so long, was a difficult chapter to write!!
Chapter Ten: But I'm so very tired.
“You must be mistaken,” he stated, looking from Nymphadora to the Headmaster.
Realization sank in as he watched Nymphadora openly weep. She had always been
close to his father; much like Julian was close to Lucius. She shook her head,
and Julian began to feel nauseous.
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Malfoy,” said Professor Dumbledore, kindly.
“No,” insisted Julian. “You must be. There’s no way my father could be dead.”
He took a deep breath and struggled to keep control of his emotions.
“It’s true, Juli,” Nymphadora said softly.
Julian let out a strangled breath. “And my uncle? Has he been told?”
“He’s unreachable at the moment. We’ve let Mrs. Malfoy know. She will inform
him once she is able to make contact with him,” said one of the other aurors.
“She said she would come get you first thing in the morning, Juli,” Nymphadora
assured him.
Julian nodded his head, his fingers tracing the locket underneath his robes.
Coldness was beginning to seep into his body even as tears burned behind his
eyelids. “I should go,” he murmured. “Lunch is nearly over, and I’ve got
lessons with Professor Snape this evening to prepare for.”
“You are, of course, excused from all your classes for the week, Mr. Malfoy,”
chastised the headmaster gently, handing Julian a piece of parchment. “Shall I
let Severus know?”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Julian. “But thank you all the same.” He stood,
his legs feeling heavier than they’d ever felt before.
Nymphadora made a movement as to stop him, but Julian shook his head. “Please,”
he whispered brokenly. “I can’t… not right now.”
He left the headmaster’s office and walked to the dungeons in a daze. Severus
was still in the Great Hall when Julian arrived in the quarters. He sat on the
couch and stared unseeing into the fireplace, not even bothering to light the
torches. His father was… dead. It didn’t…couldn’t seem real to him. How many
times in the last year had Julian displaced him? How many times had letters
gone unanswered? How many times had he manipulated his father so that he could
take care of the Dark Lord? His father, who loved him above all others? It was
reprehensible. How could he have done that? And now… now, he could never make
it better. He blinked furiously, cursing the tears that welled in his eyes.
Malfoys were not weak. They did not cry. He clutched the locket, hoping to
receive some small amount of comfort for its presence, but it was unresponsive.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed before Severus entered their quarters. He
was too lost in his thoughts. Thinking of all of the things he could have done,
should have done, but that now could never do.
“Mr. Malfoy…” started the Potions Master before he took a look at the boy. Gone
was the annoyingly confident Malfoy, and left in his place was a boy who looked
far too vulnerable. He was paler than normal and his grey eyes were wide and
shining with tears. “Julian? Is everything all right?”
A tear escaped and fell down his cheek. He shook his head. “My father’s dead,”
he said softly. Another tear joined the first. “You know he didn’t want me to
come to Hogwarts?” He laughed darkly. “Hated the idea, really, but he let me
come. Because I wanted to work with you, with the great Severus Snape. And it
was all a lie! I came to Hogwarts because the Dark Lord wanted me to come…
needed me to come because I’m the only one who can get into the Chamber of
Secrets. I didn’t even think twice. I used him. Made him feel like he was
practically forcing me to leave Durmstrang to come here.” He closed his eyes
and tried to steady his breathing again. He felt a weight settle next to him on
the leather couch and a hand tentatively touch his shoulder.
“I know it is inadequate, Julian, but I am sorry for your loss. Your father and
I were close in school, and although we hadn’t spoken in years, I cared for him
a great deal,” said Severus.
Julian took a deep breath and brushed the tears off his cheeks. “I should pack.
Aunt Narcissa is coming in the morning. Uncle Lucius is… unreachable, it seems.
The headmaster has excused me from classes for the next week.” He rose fluidly
and was out of the room before Severus had time to stop him.
Severus stared at the closed door long after Julian went through it. Severus
had never been one to give emotional support. He’d never received it growing up
and the only support he’d known since childhood had been Albus’ and even that
came at a cost. He sighed heavily. Something wasn’t quite right about the
entire situation. Augustus was dead, and Lucius was no where to be found.
Unless Narcissa was covering for Lucius like she had many times in the past.
But why would she be covering for him? Unless… but no, even Lucius wouldn’t do
something like this, would he? Lucius was hiding something, of that Severus had
no doubt. Severus had never seen him as enraged as he was the day Julian was
sorted into Gryffindor. The man had stormed into his quarters in the middle of
the night absolutely livid. Now, Severus could understand his distaste for
Gryffindors, Merlin only knew how Severus himself felt about them, but it was
not the boy’s fault where he was sorted. Lucius hadn’t spoken to Julian since
that night either. The boy did a good job of hiding it, but whenever he thought
no one was looking, Severus could see a haunted look in his eyes.
Severus heaved a heavy sigh and ran his hands through his hair. It had not
escaped his notice that the complications in his life had increased
exponentially since Julian had burst into his life, much as a hurricane spews
destruction wherever it goes. However, Severus had come to care for the boy,
and as such, could not, in good conscience at least sit by idly while the boy
was in pain. Whether or not the man in question – Lucius in this instance –
deserved Julian’s care was incidental. Julian, though he would likely never
admit it, needed Lucius.
So, it was with that in mind, that Severus took a handful of green powder,
threw it into the fireplace, and yelled out, “Malfoy Manor,” as he stepped into
the flame.
He appeared in Lucius’ study only seconds later, much to the aforementioned
man’s surprise and dismay, it seemed.
“Severus, to what do I owe this surprise?” murmured Lucius as he eyed his old
friend speculatively.
Severus scowled. “It should not be such a surprise to you. Surely you know why
I’ve come?”
Lucius simply arched a silver eye brow and turned his attention back to the
parchment he was studying. “I’m afraid I don’t know why you are here, dear
friend. If I knew, would I ask you?” asked the blonde man.
“Don’t be coy with me! You know exactly why I am here. The question is: why are
you here instead of with Julian at Hogwarts?” What are you hiding from? Was
Severus’ unasked question.
“Ah, yes, Julian. How is he then? I’m sure the death of his father has come as
quite a shock to him,” Lucius remarked. He looked up briefly from the parchment
to glance at Severus before beginning to read again.
“Indeed it has. The boy is devastated. No doubt he could use some comforting
from his beloved uncle,” sneered Severus.
At this, Lucius let out a hearty laugh. “Devastated, he may be, but Malfoy’s do
not need comforting. Narcissa has told the doddering old Headmaster that we
would collect Julian and Draco in the morning, and we will do. Until then, I am
sure he is quite happy to remain where he is.”
“The same, however, can not be said for yourself, I’m afraid,” drawled Severus,
slowly.
“Whatever are you talking about, dear Severus? You should spend more time away
from the toxic fumes of your brews. I believe they may be addling your brains.”
Obsidian eyes flashed angrily. “Indeed,” he continued. “You do not seem to be
affected by the death of your elder brother at all. In fact, one might think
you cared nothing for him.”
“It’s no secret that I do not have a good relationship with my brother,” stated
Lucius, a bit indignantly.
“And yet you have spent the last thirteen years in close proximity to him. For
goodness sake, Lucius, you practically raised the man’s son, and yet you dare –
you dare – to sit there and act as if his death means nothing to you?”
“My only concern has always been Julian and Julian alone,” hissed Lucius
angrily, the parchment fluttered to the desk as he stood up. “I put aside my
feelings for my brother to help him raise his son – my nephew – as was my duty
as Lord Malfoy. I’m quite certain that the significance of this is lost on you,
what with your filthy muggle father and your blood traitor mother.”
Severus brought his hands together and gave two slow claps. “Brilliant work!
You have managed to sidestep my question, beautifully if I may say. Be that as
it may, I know that you are hiding something, dear friend, and you can expect I
shall discover it. At the rate you are going, a bumbling toddler could put the
pieces together. First Olivander, and now Augustus, my, my, this must be one
large secret, indeed.”
“Are you implying that I had a hand in my brother’s death? Surely you are not.”
Severus raised an ebony brow. “Certainly not, Lucius, but then again, I need
not imply anything at all. No, you seem to be doing a good job of incriminating
yourself. But perhaps you have been much too hasty in your… ministrations,”
Severus said, a wicked grin spreading on his face. “After all, the Dark Lord
will be none too pleased if you acted without his permission – especially if
that act affected Julian in any adverse way. Surely you realize the boy is
important to the Dark Lord... and on the same token, if the Dark Lord discovers
you’ve kept something of this magnitude – and it must be something quite
important, my dear Lucius for you to get your hands dirty yourself – perhaps he
will kill you himself, or allow Julian to do with you what he will.”
“There is no secret,” bellowed the normally composed man.
“Oh, there is a secret,” said Severus, snidely. “And, as I’ve said, I’d wager
it’s a rather large one. You are playing a dangerous game, Lucius. You are
aware that the Dark Lord will kill you if he learns – when he learns – of your
indiscretion?”
Lucius was panting softly now, his blonde hair slightly disheveled. “Surely you
do not believe that mad man’s ravings, Severus? That Julian could possibly be
Harry Potter is completely absurd!”
“No, no, you are quite right on that account. Julian is nothing if not a
Malfoy…. I simply believe the wrong brother has been credited with the title of
father… I believe Julian is your child, Lucius. I know not who his mother is,
and indeed I care not, but you are doing a rather poor job of covering your
infidelity because it was Narcissa who first brought the suspicions to me.”
A relieved look crossed Lucius’ face. “My son?” he murmured. “Perhaps you are
correct on that account…”
--
Julian emerged some minutes later to an empty room. He sighed and gathered his
potion journals. He would go mad if left alone with his thoughts. He might as
well go to the laboratory, so that he could at least do something half-way
productive.
On the way, he met Longbottom, the mudblood, and the Weasel who were on their
way up from the dungeon.
“Where have you been?” demanded the Weseal. “You were supposed to meet us after
lunch so we could work on the potion assignment!”
Julian sneered at the Gryffindors. “I’m afraid I cannot tutor you today. You
will have to muddle through somehow.”
“You promised!” the mudblood said, hotly.
Anger flared in Julian’s grey eyes. “You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t feel
like spending the after catering to the most pitiful excuses for brewers I’ve
ever had the displeasure of setting my eyes on, but I’ve just been informed of
my father’s death. Now, if you would excuse me, I might actually make it to my
desired destination!”
Review this Story/Chapter
***** You Belong to me *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to
find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? His action sets off a chain of
events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions Master -
reeling.
===============================================================================
A/N: Sorry this is so late - and so short - but I've been crazy busy with
school. PLUS writer's block for this story. I promise to have something out
soon - and I promise it will be much longer. Not very happy with this, but I
hope it doesn't disappoint.
Chapter Eleven: You belong to me

You belong to me,
My snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.
Soon I know you'll see,
You're just like me.
Don't scream anymore my love, 'cause all I want is you.

Grey eyes narrowed in concentration. "Three counterclock wise stirs, not two. I
should have known," Julian muttered, pushing back a soft blonde curl that had
fallen into his face as he closed the book and turned his attention back to the
potion he was brewing. It had been two hours since he had trapped himself into
Severus' personal lab to experiment. He was making the base for the new potion.
The rest he would finish - once he had procured the necessary unicorn hair, of
course. As if that were a simple task... well, he certainly hoped it would be,
but he would worry about that once the base was completed.
A flash of heat from the locket was Julian's only warning before he felt the
all too familiar tug at his navel of a port-key, and he found himself deposited
in front of the Dark Lord. He bowed immediately.
"My Lord," he demurred.
"Julian, how nice to see you. I trust you've received my gift," the Dark Lord
murmured softly.
"Gift?" echoed Julian as he met the Dark Lord's crimson eyes, confused. "I
haven't received any gifts."
"Oh, but you have," said the man, easily switching into Parseltongue. It was
then that Julian noticed they were not alone in the room. Pettigrew was there
along with another man, who seemed a bit... twitchy. "I've given you your
freedom, my heir, from your previous familial attachments."
Realization was slow coming, but once there, Julian wished it had not arrived.
"You... you've killed my father," he stated, his tone one of disbelief.
"Yes," replied the Dark Lord simply as he rose from his chair and approached
Julian. "Family is a weakness, Julian, just as your emotions are... I've
discussed this with you before. I thought this would please you."
Julian quickly regained his composure and nodded, a numbing sensation filling
him. He felt as if he were watching the scene from outside his body, not
feeling the overwhelming emotions he knew were there. The Dark Lord had killed
his father, and he had done it for Julian. "I am pleased, my Lord. I am merely
surprised by the generosity you continue to bestow upon me. I am sorry if you
felt otherwise," he replied, his voice more than a bit unsure.
"I am the only family you have need of, am I not?" he added, his voice
dangerously soft, arching a thin eyebrow. He raised a thin hand and caressed
Julian's cheek.
"Yes, of course," said Julian, only hesitating slightly now.
"And you are mine, are you not, now, just as you have always been?"
"Yes, my Lord, yours to command. For as long as you have need of me," the words
came easy to Julian. They were the truth, his truth. He could not disobey the
Dark Lord nor had he the desire to do so. Though he was confused why the Dark
Lord was saying these things in such a fervent tone. Never before had the man
expressed this much emotion in front of Julian.
Voldemort chucked darkly. "Such a silver tongue you have," he hissed before
turning to the other two inhabitants of the room. "Leave us," he ordered.
With a great amount of shuffling and proclamations of "my Lord" the unknown man
and Pettigrew were gone and Julian was alone with the Dark Lord.
"Perhaps I've been too lenient," murmured the man almost to himself as he
studied Julian. "It matters not now, at any rate. I would hope that I have made
myself clear, Julian. I do not share. Not with your traitorous father, nor with
any other. You are mine, just as you've always been." He repeated as he traced
the lightning bolt scar that marred Julian's forehead, sending shivers down
Julian's spine. "Foolish boy, do you not know what this is?"
"My uncle says it is a birth mark. I've had it all my life," Julian said, his
voice barely above a whisper.
"Not quite... your uncle is not so forthcoming with the truth. Do not worry, I
shall deal with him in time. This is no birth mark. I gave this to you, and it
is because of this that you are marked as my equal. I gave this to you, and by
doing so, inadvertently imparted a piece of my soul into your body. It is
because of this that I shall live forever, and because of this that Dumbledore
will fail. I will no longer be limited by the words of a prophecy," the Dark
Lord snarled.
Julian blinked several times. The Dark Lord's words made no sense to him. How
had he given him the lightning bolt scar? How had he made him a horcrux? What
prophecy did he speak of? And what did Dumbledore have to do with it? "I...
don't understand, my Lord," he said, finally.
"In time, you will. For now, I expect you to concentrate on the task at hand. I
did not send you to Hogwarts for you to wither away your time making friends. I
grow tired of remaining here with only that blasted Pettigrew and Crouch for
company."
"Yes, my Lord," Julian said slowly. "Have you need of anything further? I'm
afraid my absence, given the circumstances, will not go unnoticed for much
longer."
"You may leave. I'm afraid I haven't a return port-key. You will have to floo
into Severus' room."
Julian nodded and bowed to the Dark Lord. Then, he went to the fireplace and
gathered a handfull of floo powder, threw it into the already burning fire and
shouted Hogwarts Castle, Severus Snape's room.
"One more thing, Julian," said the Dark Lord before Julian disappeared into the
green flame. "You will end whatever it is you have started with the Zabini boy,
or I shall end it for you. Am I understood?"
Julian did not have time to give a response because he was whirling away
through the floo network. He never had been much for floo travel, a fact that
was evident with the fact that Julian, normally graceful, was now sprawled so
gracelessly on the floor in front of Severus' fireplace. Much to the surprise
of said Potion Master and, it seemed, his Uncle.
"Where have you been?" inquired Snape, darkly, as Julian picked himself off the
floor and fixed his robes.
Julian smiled prettily at the Potion Master. "Why? Did you miss me?"
"No," snarled the man. "Dumbledore, however, has asked about you. You are not
to leave the castle. Do you understand?"
"I'm afraid, Professor, that I haven't control over whether or not I leave the
castle. If you are unhappy with my sudden departure, by all means, take it up
with the Dark Lord. It was he, after all, who port-keyed me away. Another
enchantment on this lovely locket," said Julian widening his eyes innocently
and smirking as Snape's obsidian eyes narrowed.
His Uncle, Julian realized, had been unnaturally quiet.
"And what did the Dark Lord want?" he asked, his cultured voice devoid of any
emotion.
"What did the Dark Lord want?" repeated Julian, his posture rigid as he
replaying the brief encounter with the Dark Lord in his head. "He wanted to...
ensure I received his gift."
"His gift," deadpanned Snape.
"Yes, of course, have you not been listening? He wanted to ensure I received my
gift," Julian felt his voice rising, a hysterical quality added to it.
"And did you?" queried his Uncle.
"I did, indeed, as did you," replied Julian enigmatically. "The Dark Lord
decided that having a family - besides him - was of no benefit to me, so he-"
"Killed your father," supplied Snape.
"Clever as always, Master Snape, but right you are."
Silence filled the room.
"He also wanted to remind me of my place, to remind me to whom I belong,"
Julian nearly spat the word out, anger he wasn't aware he was capable of
filling him. "If you would excuse me, I will just pack some clothing and we can
leave," he told Lucius.
Lucius nodded, clearly lost in thought, as Julian left the room.
Julian's door slammed with a resounding thud, and Severus turned to face
Lucius, an ebony eye brow raised. "You did not kill your brother."
A smug smirk appeared on the regal man's face. "It would appear not, my dear
friend. So sorry to upset your ridiculous fantasies."
Julian appeared, his face paler than usual, in the living room, a small trunk
floating in front of him.
"Come along now, Julian," said Lucius, his smirk firmly in place. "Narcissa has
already gone to the Manor with Draco."
"One more thing, Uncle," said Julian. He pulled back the hair that covered the
strange scar on his forehead. "How did I receive this scar, again? I've
forgotten."
"A birthmark, not a scar," murmured Lucius distractedly, not meeting Julian's
gaze.
Severus saw a strange emotion flitter across Julian's face at that, but it was
gone as quickly as it appeared.
"Funny that," murmured Julian, softly, to himself, as Lucius disappeared into
the flames. "The Dark Lord said he'd given it to me. Quite the discripency,
that is."
Years of spying had strengthened Snape's hearing or else this comment might
have been lost to him. So Lucius had not killed his brother. That was
surprising, considering their history, but it seemed the man was hiding
something, no matter.
"I shall wait," vowed Snape after Julian had disappeared as well. Whatever it
was would come out in time, sooner if Lucius's clumsy movements were any
indication, and all he would have to do was wait for the man to slip up.
***** The End is the Beginning *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to
find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? His action sets off a chain of
events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions Master -
reeling.
===============================================================================
Chapter Twelve

Time has stopped before us
The sky cannot ignore us
No one can separate us
For we are all that is left
The echo bounces off me
The shadow lost beside me
There's no more need to pretend
Cause now I can begin again

Julian blinked his eyes furiously against the flow of tears, but still the
tears came unbridled. He felt empty, hollow, alone, and he was now, in every
sense of the word. Orphan. Alone. Gone. A gift. For you... He shivered,
remembering the Dark Lord's words.
"Juli," said Nymphadora. She approached him slowly, followed by Professor
Black. Julian's eyebrow rose slightly at the sight of him, but he said nothing,
merely inclined his head. He very nearly felt sorry for the man; he looked
absolutely wretched.
"Can we talk?" she continued when she reached him. "Alone," she added, when she
saw Lucius out of the corner of her eye.
Curiosity beat out common sense and Julian followed her out into the hall.
"You wished to speak to me?" asked Julian after a moment or two of silence.
"This is Sirius. He's the Head of the Most Noble House of Black now, and he was
a dear friend of your dad's."
Julian gave the man a calculating look before turning his gaze to Nymphadora,
one blonde eyebrow arched. "I know very well what he was to my father. My
father's inclinations have never been kept secret from me, nor has his feelings
towards Professor Black. You know yourself, 'Dora, that my father was barely
able to hear even his name spoken aloud since his unfortunate escape from
Azkaban," Julian paused, delighting in the defeated look upon his Defense
Professor's face. "Now, if you've nothing further, I think I shall retire for
the evening. You may, of course, stay as long as you like. My Uncle will most
certainly have Malfoy Manor open as long as necessary."
"No!" cried Nymphadora. She took a deep breath in an attempt to compose
herself.
Julian let out a weary sigh. "Please do get on with it, then. I buried my
father today, if you've forgotten. I'm sure anything further can wait until
tomorrow."
She shot Black a look before continuing. "It's just, well, Juls, it's about
your father's will..."
His head shot up, his lips curled into a sneer, and snarled at the
metamorphosis. "My father's will, is it? What about it? Worthless piece of
paper, isn't it? He isn't the heir, you know that, and nearly everything he had
belonged to my Uncle. The rest of his possessions, meager though they are, will
come to me when I'm of age, I'm sure, though I care not. Besides his personal
effects he has nothing of any real value." Well, Julian allowed to himself,
nothing that I cannot obtain myself.
"It's you, Julian."
"What about me?" Julian said slowly, his grey eyes darting between the pair.
"Your father...well, you know he never got on with Lucius," started Nymphadora
before she was interrupted by a scoff from Black. "Originally, if something
were to ever happen to him, he wanted you to go with Lucius, but," she paused,
casting a wary look at him before continuing, "He changed his will the day
before he was killed."
"He what!" exclaimed Julian, his eyes narrowing into slits.
"He didn't want you to be around Lucius so much, Julian, and I can't say I
don't agree with him," she finished, an apologetic look on her face.
"And I suppose my wishes mean nothing?" he asked, bitterly. Neither of them
denied it, their silence answer enough. "Well, then, where am I to go, then,
since its been decided I cannot stay with those I love?"
"Well, see, the thing is, Juls, that the decisions not mine to make, really-
" Nymphadora started.
Julian cut her off. "Well, whose decision is it, then?" he snarled.
"Mine," said Black, a smug expression on his face. "Your father's given me
custody of you."
Julian let out a dark chuckle. "That's rich," he said. "You despise me. Why
would you ever want to look after me?"
"I promised him I'd take care of you, and despite how I may feel about you, I
will not let anything happen to you," Black vowed.
Julian was about to say just how he felt about that when he caught a flash of
silver-blonde hair across the way. A smirk found its way on his face. He knew
to whom that pale hair belonged - Bastian Delacour, his father's former lover.
Julian merely tolerated the man on the best of day's, but his presence was a
very welcome distraction now. Oh, it was not that Julian disliked the man, or
young man, rather, as Bastian was not yet twenty-one. He was nice enough, he
allowed, and attractive, no doubt about that, but had no traces of the darkness
that Julian craved. He was the very epitome of a light wizard.
"If you would excuse me," he said, his tone as polite as he could manage, "I've
just seen someone I must speak to."
He hurried off before either of them could stop him.
"Bastian!" he called out. The man in question stopped. His eyes widened when he
saw Julian.
"Julian," he said, finally, when Julian reached him.
"I'm glad you came," said Julian, sincerely. Well, he amended to himself, glad
for the distraction of his arrival.
The man seemed very nervous, then, anxiety nearly oozing off of him. His
normally pristine hair looked eschewed, strands falling out of the ribbon
pulling it back at the nape of his neck, his clear blue eyes wild with emotion.
"Julian, you're unharmed" he breathed. He cleared his throat. "I thought
perhaps they had gone after you, as well, but..." he trailed off.
"Let's take a walk, shall we?" asked Julian, his eyes on Nymphadora and Black
who were watching them.
Bastian's gaze followed Julian and then nodded once he saw they had an
audience. He offered Julian his arm and the two walked towards the doors of the
garden.
"I hear congratulations are in order. An apprenticeship at your age is quite
the honor, Julian. Of course, there was never any doubt you would go far, no
matter what it was you did. Your father was very proud of you," Bastian said,
softly, once they were alone.
"Was he? He never said," Julian replied, tersely. It was true. His father had
never exactly encouraged his love of potions. Oh, he had allowed him to come to
Hogwarts, of course, but never because he wanted him to pursue them as a
career. Julian had a feeling the only reason he had acquiesced was because he
found potions a better option than the Dark Arts Julian loved and craved.
"They?" asked Julian again once a moment later.
Bastian, who had seemed to think better of continuing, shook his head. "It
matters not. You are well, then?" he asked, a lilt to his heavily accented
English.
"Oui, or, as well as I can be," Julian said. A light breeze blew through the
garden and Julian shivered. It was not yet winter, but the air had already
turned cool. "And you? I know you, and my father didn't end on the best of
terms, but you cared for him."
At this, Bastian seemed genuinely confused. "Julian, whatever do you mean? Your
father and I were not lovers."
Julian felt his mouth fall open. "What?" he asked for the second time that day.
"Your father and I were never lovers," he repeated, "He was my mentor, my
friend, but not my lover. Monsieur Black was his lover, no?"
"How long?" Julian finally ground out.
Bastian seemed torn. It was obvious this information was distressing Julian.
"Since his escape," he finally answered. "Mais, Julian, surely you knew this,
your father was at Hogwarts just this past weekend with him."
"No," said Julian coolly. "I was not aware of that. I had not heard from my
father since I went to spend time with my Uncle."
Julian was angry, but he wasn't certain why. His father had lied to him, yes,
but had he not lied to his father as well? Had his father not been killed
because of him?
He sighed. "When are you returning to France?"
"I'm not returning to France, said Bastian, a cryptic tone to his voice. "I've
been offered a position in England -- in the Order."
"Ah, I see," said Julian, though he did not. He had never heard of the Order.
Bastian smiled softly, but the smile soon turned into a frown. "I will do
everything I can to ensure your safety, Julian -- everything."
Julian frowned. He was a rather perceptive person, and it was not often that he
found himself out of the loop, so to say, something that was becoming a regular
occurrence now. First the Dark Lord's ramblings about prophecies, his Uncle's
lies about the origin of his scar, his father's lies about the nature of his
relationship with Bastian and now this Order and the supposed danger he was in.
He wanted to inquire as to what danger he was in, but he knew he would get no
answers -- yet. Instead, he nodded his head slowly, a plan forming all the
while.
Bastian squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, his gaze lingering on the doorway.
Julian turned to see his uncle with a murderous expression on his face followed
by Black, his expression triumphant.
"It seems," said Lucius slowly, "that your father changed his will, so you must
leave with Black now. Do not believe, Black, that this is over," he spat. "I
will do everything in my power to have you returned to your rightful place."
His Uncle continued, giving Julian a significant look.
Julian repressed the anger that was threatening to explode, then. He had no
desire to spend any time with Black -- in school or out of it.
"I'll just go get my things then, shall I?" Julian replied instead.
"No need," said Black. "They've already been sent back to Hogwarts. Snape took
them back with him. We'll return there tomorrow."
"Really?" asked Julian, slightly relieved he need not spend much time with
Black. He could stay at Hogwarts over the winter break, and, surely, Lucius
would have this entire mattered settled before the school year ended. Even if
he did not, the Dark Lord would be returned to power, and all those opposing
him, including Black would be taken care of. "A moment, then, to say goodbye?"
He asked, inclining his head towards Bastian.
Black looked a bit angry, but he left with Lucius, telling Julian that he would
wait for him just inside.
"I suppose this is good-bye, then. Thank you for coming," Julian said when they
were gone.
"But of course," said Bastian, a smile playing on the corner of his lips. "I
have a feeling you and I will be seeing one another sooner than you think. If
you've need of anything, please do let me know."
And finally, the opportunity presented itself. "Perhaps there is one thing I
have need of that is in your power to obtain," Julian said, coyly, widening his
eyes.
"Oh? What do you have need of?" inquired Bastian. "Just tell me, and it shall
be yours."
This was much too easy, Julian thought, sighing inwardly. "Phoenix tears,"
Julian, ever the consummate actor, said reluctantly, a slight pout on his face,
"I do hate to ask because I know how sacred Mercury's tears are, but I need
them now more than ever. I've run out, you see, and they are quite essential to
the potion I am working on."
"Yes," murmured Bastian. "I do remember your experimentation. What sort of
potion is it again?"
"A unique healing potion," replied Julian. "If I'm successful, it would heal
those thought to be untouchable, those who were thought to be permanently
addled by the Dark Arts."
"A noble cause," Bastian said, finally. "I think Mercury could be persuaded to
shed some tears for you. I shall send word to you very soon, caressé."
Julian smiled as he headed into the house. Oh yes, he thought, a wicked grin
upon his face at the somewhat fortunate turn of events, that was much easier
than I feared. With a steady supply of phoenix tears, the Dark Lord's return to
power would be much sooner than anyone expected. His face darkened at the
thought of the Dark Lord. He was still undeniably angry at the man for killing
his father, but what else could he do but the task assigned to him? He was
powerless to stop the Dark Lord's return, no matter his feelings, so as much as
it pained him to do so, he must continue on with it. Feelings, love in
particular, were a weakness, the Dark Lord was certainly right about that, and
Julian had no intention of allowing himself to be consumed by them any further.
His father had paid the price for his weakness, and he did not want his father
to have died in vain.
Black was waiting for him, just as he had promised, when Julian returned to the
Manor.
"I'll side-along us to my family house," said Black, before grasping Julian's
arm and the two of them disappeared, leaving Bastian and Lucius staring after
them.
To say Julian was surprised when he found himself appearing on a muggle street,
staring at a series of very muggle houses.
"You live here?" he asked, incredulously.
Black blinked, but realization seemed to dawn on him. He blushed slightly. "Oh,
forgot about this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper,
handing it to Julian.
Julian's brow furrowed in confusion, but he took the slip of paper.
"Read it," pressed Black.
He sighed and opened the paper, his eyes widening as he did so, and an elation
that was not his own at all, filled him.
The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve,
Grimmauld Place, London.
***** Now All Secrets Fade *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to
find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? His action sets off a chain of
events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions Master -
reeling.
===============================================================================
Sorry this took so long! School is killing me. Hope you guys enjoy it. Julian's
reaction is what I would expect, I think. Much more angst in the future, I
should think. Anyway, please review and let me know what you think. I will also
be updating Harry Potter and the Walking Shadow soon, I hope.
Chapter Thirteen
And in your darkest hour
Now all secrets fade
We can watch the world devoured in its pain
Once Julian was safely inside the... house -- and he used that term in the
loosest sense possible --he looked around the small entry way, his nose
scrunched up, an incredulous look upon his face.
"You expect me to live here?" Julian said, disdain dripping from his voice as
he whirled around to face Black.
Black let out a weary sigh, exhaustion showing on his lined face. He ran one of
his hands through his grey-streaked hair, his other hand twirling a battered
wand. "Just for the night. Tomorrow you can go back to Hogwarts. Come on, your
room is upstairs. Try to be quiet in the stairway. I'd rather not wake my
mother if at all possible."
Black did not wait for a response from Julian. He turned and started for the
staircase. Seeing no other option -- for the moment, that is -- Julian followed
the man. He took in his surroundings as they climbed the creaky stairs. The
house was falling apart -- literally and magically. Julian could feel the
strength of the wards cast on the property, the Fidelius being the strongest of
them, but there was a conflict with the internal magic in the house. The
magical energy contained within the very foundations of the house repelled the
wards. It was very similar to holding two like sides of a magnet together, they
would never meet. It was an impossibility. Fools, the lot of them.
"It's not much," Black said, by way of excuse, when they had reached the only
bedroom contained on the third floor.
"Indeed," drawled Julian haughtily. The room, if it could be called that, was
much smaller than even his room in Severus's quarters. The furnishings were
sparse -- sparse meaning the tiny room only contained a twin-sized bed, a
nightstand, and a wardrobe that would not even hold a fraction of Julian's
clothing. Not that Julian planned on ever unpacking anything in this abysmal
house, mind you, because that certainly would not be happening any time soon,
but still... how could anyone -- anyone -- live in such conditions? It was
positively dreadful.
Black was still standing awkwardly in the doorway when Julian finished his
scrutiny of the room.
"Have you a house elf?" Julian asked, suppressing a shudder at the stained
bedding.
"Err, yes, one. Kreacher's his name, but I don't think he'll be of much use to
you. He only half listens to my commands on the best of days," the man replied.
At this, Julian let out an exasperated sigh. "Idiot," he muttered. To Black he
said, "Is he or is he not your house elf?" Without waiting for an answer, he
snapped his fingers and spat out the house elf's name. A moment later, an
ancient looking elf appeared.
"How can Kreacher be helping Master Black today? Oh, Mistress would not approve
of blood traitors and mudbloods using her house..." the elf's mad ramblings
trailed off.
"You'll watch your tongue, elf," snarled Julian. "Now, I require bedding. Clean
bedding, quickly, if you please. If it is unacceptable to me, you will punish
yourself throughly before acquiring new bedding that is to my liking."
Kreacher's eyes widened, but then he lowered them to the ground. "As Master's
guest wishes," he said before popping away from them. Not even a minute later
he was back with fresh linens that, while not as luxurious as he was used to,
would do for the night.
Julian arched a blonde eyebrow at the expression on Black's face upon
Kreacher's departure. It was a mixture of disbelief, anger, and amusement.
Anger won out, however, because seconds later, he exploded, lecturing Julian on
the evils of house elf abuse.
Julian interrupted his tirade with a scoff. "Abuse? Hardly. No wonder this
house is falling apart at the seams. You don't make requests to an elf, you
make commands. They are here to serve you, in case you've forgotten. Perhaps
all those years in Azkaban have addled your mind. Besides, you could hardly
expect me to sleep on those sheets. Merlin only knows what that stain was. Now,
if you don't mind, I'd like to get what little sleep I can."
And without further ado, Julian closed his door on the sputtering man.
Sleep, however, was not forthcoming, and when he finally did manage to fall
asleep, some time later, he was awoken by raised voice on one of the bottom
levels. Julian climbed out of bed slowly and, clutching his wand tightly in his
hands, eased the bedroom door open. He cast a disillusion spell on himself and
walked as silently as possible down the first set of stairs, hoping to hear
what was being said.
"... cannot be my godson!" came the enraged voice of Black.
"Sirius, I am only speculating. Surely you agree that it is highly improbable
that within days of one other both Ollivander and Augustus Malfoy, the only two
souls alive who may know of his true identity, were murdered. It is quite
evident that someone is attempting to clean up the rather large mess they
made," replied Dumbledore, his voice infuriatingly calm.
Silence for a moment. "But who would do that? And why hide him for all of these
years?"
"Why Lucius Malfoy, of course, and I daresay we would be none the wiser if I
had not received a missive from Ollivander before his unfortunate death
detailing his suspicions. As for Lucius's reasons, once again, I can only
speculate. It is entirely possible and indeed likely that Lucius accompanied
Voldemort to Godric's Hollow that night. Upon discovering that a toddler had
been the cause of his Lord's defeat, Lucius then decided to spirit Harry away
and raise him as he saw fit," finished the aging wizard.
Again silence. Finally, Black spoke again. "But why? What would he have to gain
from it?"
"Everything, my dear boy, everything. Not only would he be able to direct and
influence the boy's entire life - including magical education - when Voldemort
returns -- yes, Sirius, I say when he returns because I am quite certain that
his return to power is imminent -- he will be in a position of power, rewarded
beyond belief."
"But he looks just like a Malfoy! He's nearly identical to Lucius in every way.
No way is he Harry," sputtered Black.
"Yes, yes, I do see your point, that is quite the discrepancy, but wouldn't you
say that perhaps he is a bit too similar to Lucius?"
"Yes!" said Black emphatically. "Sometimes I feel like I'm back at Hogwarts
again sitting at Gryffindor table. That's why I know he can't be my godson."
"Exactly!" chirped Dumbledore. "Yes, they are far too similar in appearance my
opinion. Whatever Lucius did to ensure that the boy would resemble him worked
splendidly. Except, of course, that as we've both agreed, he is nearly a
replica of the man in question. I can only think of a handful of possibilities
resulting in his changed appearance -- none of them at all pleasant to the
caster -- but do not despair, Sirius. There are ways to determine his
parentage, and, of course, we've already several indicators of it. He does
carry a most remarkable scar on his forehead. Quite unusual, in fact. It seems
to be a curse scar, perhaps the result of a backfired Killing Curse? And then
there was his sorting, though of course that is perhaps not the most reliable
of indicators. Of course, his parseltongue ability is not so easily explained
away. It is an ability unique to the Slytherin line, and the Malfoy and the
Slytherin line have never crossed. I believe that when young Harry survived
Tom's Killing Curse, some of Tom's powers were passed on to him. This would
explain that ability nicely, I daresay. But, my dear friend, the important
thing is that he is here and that he remains in your custody. You mustn't allow
the Malfoys to regain custody of him. It is imperative that we limit his
contact with them. He is not so far down the path that he can not turn back,
but I fear what will happen to him if he is allowed to continue on unchecked."
Julian's grip on his wand tightened as he let out the breath he had been
holding. His head was spinning, and he was dizzy with the implications of the
conversation. What a fool he had been. The truth had been in front of his face,
and he had not even noticed it. Looking back he could see all of the signs of
the truth, glaring painfully back at him. His Uncle's reaction at Julian's
imparting the conversation he had held with Ollivander, the Dark Lord's cryptic
words, the almost wistful way Dumbledore looked at him sometimes. Then, of
course, there were the secrets that Julian himself held. The dreams he'd had of
the Dark Lord since he was a mere child, his uncanny ability to discern exactly
what the Dark Lord's moods were, the painful throb he felt whenever he was near
him. He had long since become accustomed to it, but that did not lessen the
significance. And, most importantly, had the Dark Lord himself not told him the
truth?
"This is no birth mark. I gave this to you, and it is because of this that you
are marked as my equal. I gave this to you, and by doing so, inadvertently
imparted a piece of my soul into your body." Those were his words, so, yes, it
must be true. He could not deny it.
Black, it seemed, had also been considering Dumbledore's words because at last
he spoke, his tone resigned and melancholy. "So, my godson, Harry, has been
alive all of these years, and you knew, didn't you?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I...yes, I knew, but my dear boy, what was I to do
with that knowledge? I knew the boy survived still though I knew not where he
was. I have searched, believe me, I have, but with no clue as to his
whereabouts, there was very little I could do but wait."
"Well," Black said, after a long moment. "He is here now, I suppose that's all
that matters."
"You are quite right, Sirius. He is here now. Your godson, the son of James and
Lily Potter -- the only known survivor of the Killing Curse --, is here. It
matters not what form he takes on. Will you love him less if he is to remain in
the form he is in now?"
"No!" said Black, fervently. "I'll love him -- no matter what, but I'm afraid
this will take some getting used to. I don't know if I can separate the two. I
just can't believe it." He seemed to falter.
"I'm certain that you will do the right thing when the time comes, for now, you
must be careful not to disclose this to anyone. It is the of the utmost
importance that Lucius -- and Voldemort by proxy -- remain ignorant of our
knowledge for now," said Dumbledore.
Black sighed. "Yes, of course you are right, Albus."
"Well, then," said Dumbledore, clapping his hands together. "I shall return to
Hogwarts, and I look forward to seeing both of you in the morning. If you would
have young Julian meet with me in the morning, it would be greatly
appreciated."
There was a shuffling that Julian assumed to be Black nodding. "Alright, I
will."
"Splendid! Be sure to remind him that I am partial to acid pops," Dumbledore
said before opening the front door and quickly exiting the house.
Anger like Julian had never known filled him, then. This was not the anger he
felt from the Dark Lord, no, this was his own anger. So lost in his rage was he
that he did not even notice his feet were moving until he realize he was once
more in the small room he was to stay in. Everyone, Dumbledore, the Dark Lord,
his beloved Uncle even, had known that he was no Malfoy, and that he was, in
fact, the very person whom Julian abhorred freely. Harry Potter! It was mad, it
was absolutely mad, that he should be 'the Boy-Who-Defeated-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-
Named'! The question was, what would he do with that information? No doubt this
changed things quite a bit. It changed everything in fact. His entire life had
been a lie. A lie orchestrated by the one man, besides the Dark Lord, that
Julian revered above everyone.
Not that the Dark Lord was innocent, by any means. He had known, probably from
the start, Julian's true identity, and he had told him nothing. He had done
more for him that any other Death Eater, and yet the Dark Lord had done very
little for him. The man had named him as his heir when he knew that he was the
one who had caused him to wander about as a spirit for nearly a decade!
Julian's eyes narrowed in anger. The Dark Lord had spoke of a prophecy before.
What of that? How many more secrets were being kept from him? He would have to
tread carefully around Dumbledore. He mustn't let on that he heard their
conversation. Though, no doubt Dumbledore planned to tell him at his earliest
convenience. Probably in some vain hope that Julian will abandon the Dark Lord.
Well, he thought vengefully, let them hope. As for his beloved uncle, well, he
definitely had some words for him.
***** What Remains *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to
find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? His action sets off a chain of
events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions Master -
reeling.
===============================================================================
Well, well, another chapter! Hope you enjoy! Not quite certain I am happy with
the ending, so please, let me know whether or not it is satisfactory.
Chapter Fourteen: What Remains
Time has stopped before us
The sky cannot ignore us
No one can separate us
For we are all that is left

Julian's anger had not dissipated at all over night, so suffice it to say that
he was none too pleased to discover that Black was waiting for him with
breakfast when he finally exited his room the next morning.
"I thought you might be hungry," the man said by way of explanation.
Julian eyed him coolly. Black flushed red under his scrutiny. "Not as such,"
Julian finally replied. "If you don't mind, I'd much rather return to Hogwarts
as soon as possible. I'm not accustomed to wearing the same clothing night and
day and since I was not allowed my personal belongings..." He let the sentence
hang. He didn't especially care as he hadn't actually slept in the clothing,
really, and he had cast the normal spells to ensure there were no wrinkles or
anything of that sort, but still... he had no desire to spend any amount of
time with Black outside of classes, when he couldn't help but spend time with
him.
Black at least had the decency to look appropriately contrite. "Err, yeah.
Sorry 'bout that. So, we'll just go then?"
"Yes, that would be best," drawled Julian in his usual haughty manner.
He had decided that the best thing to do - for now - with his newfound
information was... absolutely nothing. As far as the Gryffindors were
concerned, at least. He was still undecided about the Dark Lord and his uncle.
Yes, his uncle. Though the man was no blood relation to him, he was the closet
thing to one he had, and he had helped raise him - nefarious reasons aside.
Assuming there were, in fact, nefarious reasons to be had, of course. Whatever
his reasons were, Julian did not truly believe they were harmful. After all, if
he had wanted to harm Julian, he had had years to do so. Years where Julian was
not as strong nor as powerful as he was now.
Whatever - or whoever else - he was, he was, first and foremost, a Malfoy. The
headmaster, daft though he may be, was right in that, at least. After thinking
about it at some length, Julian had come up with a plausible explanation. There
was a potion he had run across once. It was a dangerous, dark portion that
required the use of your... essence - so to speak -, blood, and magic and, once
done, could never be undone. Lucius had essentially made Julian his son. If
Julian's suspicions could be trusted, and he thought they could.
Of course, the potion was quite intricate and delicate. Julian doubted Lucius
had the skill required to brew it. There were few who did. In fact, the only
one in Britain that Julian believed to have such skill was one Severus Snape.
This brought up an intriguing question. Did Severus know of his true identity?
They flooed back into his quarters. He was not surprised in the least to
discover that both his uncle and Severus were waiting for him. Black had fled
the chambers nearly immediately, his face a splotchy red color after exchanging
some harsh words with the acerbic Potions Master.
Julian eyed Lucius speculatively, wondering exactly how he should proceed.
"Julian, I'm glad to see you relatively unscathed by your time with Black,"
Lucius said, his own expression guarded.
"Relatively unscathed," Julian repeated. He supposed this was true. Physically,
at least. Emotionally, he could not deny that he was a mess. After all, it was
not every day that one discovered his entire life had been a carefully
orchestrated lie. Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, he supposed, emotions
were a weakness he could ill afford. So, despite what he might feel, he must
keep himself in control.
"Well, Uncle," he nearly purred the word, "please do inform our mutual friend
that I require a meeting to disclose to him some rather disturbing news I came
across whilst I was away."
Lucius's reaction was exactly what Julian expected. The man paled slightly
before recovering. "Very well," he replied. "I shall leave you in Severus's
capable hands. Good day, Severus, Julian." He gave them a bow before returning
to Malfoy Manor.
Once he was gone, Julian turned his attention back to Severus, drinking in his
appearance greedily. The chaos and confusion of the previous days had left him
exhausted, but seeing Severus again cheered him up immensely. "Have you missed
me?" he asked him coyly, widening his eyes.
"Absolutely not," snarled the Potions Master.
"Come now, Professor," teased Julian, lightly. "No need to be coy with me. I'm
quite certain you have, in fact, missed me. After all, it's been several days
since you were able to be in my presence, and I'm well aware of the effect I
have on you."
Severus scowled darkly and narrowed his eyes at Julian. "Yes, you do often send
me into blind rages," drawled Severus. "I admit that I have enjoyed the silence
and sanity your absence brought. Now, if you've quite finished wasting my time,
we ought to head up to the Great Hall for breakfast. You'll find that the world
did not cease to exist while you were off gallivanting around with handsome
men, and, as such, you have much to catch up on, including your
experimentation."
Julian felt as if someone had knocked the breath out of him, and he felt the
color drain from his face. "Gallivanting around?" he whispered dangerously.
Whatever could the man be talking about? Unless, he had seen Julian with
Bastian the day before, but even then, he had no right to speak to him this
way. "I was burying my father," he hissed angrily, "and then, not that it is
any of your business, I was wretched from my Uncle's custody and thrust into
the arms of the enemy."
He then turned and stalked out of the room, ignoring the calls of "Julian!"
that followed him. What was it about Severus Snape that cause Julian to take
leave of all of his senses. No one had ever had the ability to cause him to
come unglued as Severus did.
The Great Hall was full by the time Julian arrived. He didn't even bother going
to the Gryffindor table, choosing instead to practically throw himself into the
vacant seat across from Draco. He hadn't the energy to deal with them at the
moment. Only then did he realize he had not even changed into his school
uniform! Well, he would just go back to his quarters after breakfast. Potions
was his first class today, after all. The group he was sitting amongst - Pansy,
Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle - were giving him odd looks. Obviously the
world had gone topsy-turvy since he'd been away! '
"No need to remain silent on my behalf. You don't need my permission to speak.
You may do so freely," drawled Julian.
"Is it true, then, that Professor Black was given custody of you?" Pansy asked.
"Why, yes, it is. He fancies himself my guardian - for now. I'm certain this
will be remedied as soon as my uncle is able to do so."
Draco pipped up then. "Father told me he has already begun the process of
regaining custody."
"Good. I daresay I will go mad if I am forced to spend another moment in that
man's dreadful presence. Classes are painful enough," Julian said.
"A pity that you will be joining me every night this week for detention, then,"
came an angry voice from behind him. "And... ten points from Gryffindor for
being out of uniform," he added.
Julian spun around to find an enraged Black behind him.
"Surely you're not giving me detention because I do not enjoy your company. I'm
sure that even the headmaster would agree that this is a gross abuse of power,
with all due respect, of course, Professor."
"Indeed," said Severus, who had also come over to the Slytherin table. He must
have come to the Great Hall only moments after Julian had. "If not wishing to
be in your company is a punishable offense then you will be holding detention
every night hence."
The students around were watching the scene unfold with a good deal of
interest. Black was growing redder by the moment, and his wand was clutched
tightly in his hands, his fingers twitching precariously. The very presence of
the Potion Master seemed to enrage him further.
"If you insist upon the boy serving detention, I'm afraid it will have to be
served with me, as he does not have the luxury of ample free time as you do,"
finished Severus.
"I think not, Snape!" said Black, hotly. "He's my -- student, to punish as I
see fit! And I said he's to have detention with me for the week."
"Oh, I think so. He is my apprentice, and I think you'll find this in
accordance to the law. A Master always has the option of choosing to be the one
who doles out any... punishments that his apprentice may require," replied
Severus silkily.
"Fine," spat Black before walking to the Head Table, muttering furiously to
himself. "We'll just see what Dumbledore says about this!"
Severus turned to Julian. "I think another ten points from Gryffindor for your
cheek, Mr. Malfoy. Come with me, immediately!"
Draco and Blaise both threw him apologetic glances as he was practically
dragged out of the Great Hall. Severus said not one word to him until they had
returned to their quarters.
"You will not speak to me in the manner you did before," started the Potion
Master. "I was perhaps... a bit hasty in my initial contact with you this
morning, and for that, I do apologize. It was not my intention to insinuate
that burying your father was a joyful occasion to you." This seemed to take a
great deal of effort for Severus to say.
Julian gave him a terse nod.
"Very well. Do remember to at least attempt to be appear respectful of your
professors. I will not rescue you any more. And had it not been Black I would
not have done so in the first place. Is that understood?"
A small smile appeared on Julian's face. "Why, Sev, I knew you cared about me!"
"Ten points from Gryffindor!" roared Severus. He took a deep breath. "Do not
call me Sev. I have asked you, repeatedly, I might add, to address me with the
respect I am due! Now, remove yourself from my sight. You have fifteen minutes
with which to be dressed and in my classroom, or I shall endeavor to see
Gryffindor empty of any points it is lucky enough to have possession of."
Things seemed almost back to normal after that. Julian had hurriedly thrown on
his school robes, and after grabbing his bag rushed off to the classroom in a
decidedly unMalfoyish manner. Severus had not yet arrived, so Julian set about
to get the class ready. He finished right before the class was to start.
The moment the Gryffindors entered the room, they fell upon him, apologizing
profusely.
"You must think us heartless," cried Granger. "We had no idea your father had
passed away."
"Yeah," said Weasley, thickly. "Blimey, we've felt awful."
"Just terrible," Longbottom muttered. "I... I know what its like to lose your
parents. I wouldn't wish that for anyone."
Julian suppressed - just barely - the urge to hex the bunch. Luckily - for both
parties - Severus entered the room. Julian spent the next hour and a half
running around the classroom in a vain attempt to ensure the safety of the
students. They had reached the critical stage of their antidotes, and one wrong
stir at this point could cause the antidote to cease to be an antidote and act
as the very thing it was supposed to cure. As they were going to be testing
their potions on one another, Julian did not relish in the prospect of any of
the students ruining their potions. He was fairly certain that Severus would
find someway to blame him if this occurred.
Speaking of Severus, he was in a right mood. Stalking through the room, taking
points left and right, even from his own house - something nearly unheard of as
the person he had taken points from, Pansy, was very nearly in tears for the
scathing undressing she'd been given.
Julian discovered the reason for his foul mood immediately after the man had
dismissed the class.
"Imagine my surprise, Mr. Malfoy, when, as I was on my way to this very class,
scarcely five minutes from departing from you, I was accosted by the
Headmaster. It seemed a certain... gentleman, whoever he might be, had asked
the Headmaster to pass along a letter and a package to you," Severus sneered at
him before handing him the package and the letter. "I am not your manservant; I
am your Master, Mr. Malfoy, and I'll thank you to remember that."
Here, Julian interrupted what he was sure to be a particularly acidic diatribe.
"I do apologize for any... inconvenience the Headmaster may have caused you,
but I will thank you to remember that I am not in control of him. Nor am I am
in control of the gentleman to which you refer. Not that it concerns you, but
as you seem quite keen on discovering the identity of the man, his name is
Bastian Delacour. He is a former associate of my father. He has agreed to
supply me with the much needed Phoenix tears I require. I am not romantically
involved with him in any sense of the word," said Julian.
He watched as a series of emotions played across Severus's face before a mask
of indifference was set firmly in place. "I care not who you are involved in!"
hissed Severus.
Julian scoffed softly, as he approached the man. "Oh, I think you do. You've
been in quite a state today. Tell me, Severus, did you see me with him
yesterday? Did you watch the way his hand lay on my hip? The way it threatened
to move down further, if I so wished it? Did you wonder afterwards what else he
had touched of me? Tasted of me?" Julian enjoyed the way Severus's name flowed
off his tongue.
Every question brought Julian closer to Severus until they were nearly
touching. Severus stood unmoving for a long moment before closing the remaining
distance between them and capturing Julian's lips with his own. There was
nothing gentle about this kiss. It was harsh, unrelenting, and undeniably
possessive. Julian was so surprised by the action that he, at first, gasped and
attempted to pull away. It was one thing to flirt with the man, but quite
another to take action on it. Severus was having none of that, however. He took
the opportunity afforded to him by the quiet gasp Julian had given to plunder
his mouth, and when Julian inadvertently let out a soft moan, he grasped the
boy's hips tightly and pulled him flush against him.
Though Julian had not initiated the kiss, nor had he expected it, truly, once
he felt the tell-tell hardness meet his own, he was completely undone. He
responded to the kiss with such fervor that he did not even notice the burning
of his locket. Until a tugging sensation started at his navel and he felt
himself yanked from Severus's arms.
***** Burning Bridges *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to
find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? His action sets off a chain of
events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions Master -
reeling.
===============================================================================
The_Facade_of_Innocence
By Koinaka
To beguile the time;
Look like the time,
Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue:
Look like the innocent flower
But be the serpent undern't

Macbeth Act 1 Scene 5
Chapter_Fifteen:_Burning_Bridges
"Crucio," hissed the Dark Lord.
Julian did not even have time to right himself before he was underneath the
Dark Lord's wand experiencing just how unstable the man's magic was. It was
pain like he'd never imagined before. It enveloped him, consumed him, until
there was nothing left but the pain.
When the Dark Lord finally lifted the curse, Julian was gasping softly for air
on the ground. It was then that he saw his Uncle in the corner with an odd look
on his normally blank face.
"I warned you," the Dark Lord began. "I do not like repeating myself, something
I find myself doing all too often lately. I will say this once - and only once
- more: I do not share, Julian. I thought I had made myself perfectly clear
after the death of your father, but perhaps you are in need of further proof?"
He gave Julian a pointed look, leaving Julian no doubt as to his meaning. He
could kill Severus, would kill him at any moment, if he wished it.
Julian blanched, his eyes widening as he scrambled to get up. "No, my Lord,
that is not necessary," he said softly, a hint of hysteria in his voice. He
bowed his head and kept his eyes on the floor. Never before had the Dark Lord
raised his wand at Julian - no one had for that matter.
"Look at me," he commanded.
Warily, Julian did. He flinched slightly as the Dark Lord carelessly entered
his mind.
"Dumbledore believes you are Harry Potter." It was not a question.
Julian only nodded. His mind was spinning, and he was still dizzy from the pain
of the Dark Lord's curse.
"And?" queried the Dark Lord.
"It matters not," Julian answered, truthfully. "I need no family other than
you."
"Indeed you do not, but I wonder if you believe that, Julian, in your heart of
hearts... or are you simply placating me? Telling me what it is you know that I
wish to hear?"
"No!" Julian protested adamantly. "I wish I'd never found out." Another truth.
"Why would I want to be the person who defeated you? The person who is
responsible for you spending so many years without a body? Why would I want to
be the son of a filthy mudblood and a blood traitor? You are my family.
Everything I've done has been for you! What more can I do to prove to you that
I am loyal to you?" Julian gasped and clamped his hand over his mouth as he
realized what it was that he had said.
The next moment, he was once more on the floor writhing under the Dark Lord's
curse. He tried to not cry out, not to show weakness, but the pain was too
much, it was more than he could handle. Finally, the Dark Lord lifted the curse
when Julian let out a blood-curdling scream.
"You will keep a civil tongue in your mouth when speaking to me," snarled the
Dark Lord. "You are not above punishment, Julian, though I will never
permanently maim you. However, if you continue to defy me at every turn, you
will suffer as you never thought possible."
He bent over the trembling boy and traced the scar marring his forehead,
causing it to split open anew and blood to drip down his face. Julian shrieked
as he did so, the pain of his touch almost more than he could bear. He moved
back and waited until the boy had regained control of himself and stood up,
though he would not meet his gaze.
"As you've obtained the needed tears, I expect for you to have some sort of
progress when next we meet. Also, be wary when in the presence of Dumbledore.
If he truly believes you are Harry Potter, he will stop at nothing to gain your
confidence, to obtain control of you."
"So, is it true, then?" Julian asked.
"That is none of your concern," hissed the Dark Lord dangersouly. "Your only
concern now should be my return to power."
"Am I to remain in Black's custody?" Julian asked.
He thought for a moment that the Dark Lord may curse him again, but he only
glared at him. "When it has been decided what to do, you will be informed.
Until then, continue as instructed. I need not tell you that I will be
displeased if you do otherwise. Come, Lucius, we have much to discuss," he
said, coldly before leaving Julian alone in the room, but not before he noticed
the pleased smile on Lucius's face.
Still shaking, Julian flooed back to Severus's quarters. He stumbled out of the
fireplace and into the darkened room, thankful that Severus was not here. He
had not the strength at the moment for the conversation he knew would follow.
He made his way over to the couch and was asleep before his head hit the
cushion, finally allowing the overwhelming exhaustion that he had struggled
with for the last several days to overtake him.
Sometime later, much later, he was vaguely aware of someone - several someones
actually - trying to shake him awake.
"Julian, Julian, can you hear me?" said a frantic voice.
"Is that blood?" came another horrified voice.
"Damn it, Pansy, shove over!" snarled the first voice. Draco, Julian realized,
it was Draco.
"Should we get Madam Pomphrey?" the voice that Julian now assigned to Pansy
asked.
At this, Julian opened his eyes to find three sets of eyes peering down at him.
"How did you lot get in here? I know Snape wards his rooms," he asked, his
voice a bit harsh from the screaming.
"He's awake! Julian! Can you tell us what happened? Where are you hurt?" asked
Blaise.
"I really think we should get Madam Pomphrey, he's obviously hurt," Pansy
insisted, fussing around him.
"Unhand me this instant, Miss Parkinson, I am fine!" snarled Julian.
"Are you now?" asked Draco, arching a pale blonde eye-brow. "Get up, then, if
you are so fine."
But Julian could not. His body felt heavy with pain even now hours later.
Instead, he chose to act the petulant child, huffing loudly and scowling darkly
at his cousin.
Draco smirked at him, and Julian suppressed the urge to hex him. Of course,
hexing him would be difficult to accomplish as he had dropped his wand upon
exiting the floo. So, he resorted to using the patented Severus Snape glare,
and then Draco had the audacity to ignore him. A Malfoy ignored, it was
unthinkable!
"Shall I fire-call Father then?" Draco asked him a moment later.
"No!" Julian said much too quickly. He had no desire to see Lucius for the
foreseeable future. Not until he'd decided what to do, at least.
"Well," drawled Draco slowly. "You are obviously injured, Julian. Now, unless
you would prefer I allow Pansy to go and get Madam Pomphrey as she seems so
desperate to do, I'll have to call my Father. It would be remiss of me as your
cousin - and friend - to let this go."
Julian glared once more, but finally relented. "Get Snape, then, if you must
get someone. Not your father."
Draco seemed surprised, but he didn't question Julian further. "Blaise, Pansy,
you two go and get Professor Snape. I'll stay here with Julian. Tell no one
else," Draco commanded. "Well, go!" he snapped a few seconds later when they
hadn't moved.
--
Severus Snape, Potion Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
generally had unshakable self control. Or rather he had until a certain blonde
haired gray-eyed boy came along. Since then, he seemed to have absolutely no
self-control, or perhaps the better explanation was that he had taken complete
leave of his senses. Yes, he thought as he belittled another student - a first
year Hufflepuff - that must be what it was. Otherwise, he had no explanation as
to why he had allowed a boy - a fourteen year old boy - to bait him into
kissing him. Otherwise, he had no explanation as to why it was that he had been
repeating the kiss in his head ever since, or why he could not stop thinking of
Julian at all - the way he had tasted, the way he had gasped and moaned, the
way his body fit perfectly within his arms. He shook his head in a vain attempt
to disperse the highly inappropriate thoughts, unfortunately, however, his
traitorous body would be more difficult to convince.
Half-way through his last class of the day - his N.E.W.T. class - there was a
knock on the door. He opened the door and was surprised to see a very pale
Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, two of his fourth year Slytherins, standing
there.
"Professor, you have to come quickly. See, we were worried about Julian 'cause
he didn't come to any of his classes after Potions, and the Gryffindors kept
asking us where he went, so we finally went downstairs to where your quarters
are 'cause the Gryffindors didn't know where it was, but we do. Then, it took
us nearly thirty minutes to convince your portrait to let us in and when we
finally get there, Julian wouldn't let us call Madam Pomphrey or anyone, but I
really think he should!" Pansy Parkinson babbled nearly incoherantly the moment
Severus stepped out the door.
Severus merely raised an eyebrow at the obviously distraught girl and turned to
Zabini for a more coherent explanation.
"Julian's been hurt, but we don't know how. He wouldn't let us take him to
Madam Pomphrey or call her or even call Mr. Malfoy. He insists that he is fine,
but, sir, it's obvious that he is not," Zabini explained.
Severus froze. The Dark Lord had port-keyed Julian away in the middle of their
embrace, but surely the Dark Lord wouldn't hurt Julian, would he? Oh, but
Severus knew the answer to that. The Dark Lord had absolutely no scruples. No
matter what the boy had done to help him - and it was quite a lot - if the Dark
Lord felt he had somehow disobeyed him, he would punish him.
"Very well, I will be with you in a moment," he told them before closing the
door and addressing his class.
"Once you are finished with your potion, place the labeled sample on my desk,
and you may be dismissed," he barked before joining the two Slytherins in the
hallway.
It was only a short distance from his classroom to his quarters, so it took
little time to get there. When they arrived, they found Julian laying on the
couch and Draco standing near him. There was a fierce scowl on Julian's face
when deepened when he caught sight of them.
It was quite obvious that he had been injured. He was frightfully pale, save
for the scar on his forehead that was a livid red. There was dried blood around
it as well as a line of blood that ended on his cheek. Otherwise, he seemed
unscathed, if, of course, you ignored the slight twitch his fingers gave every
so often, which Severus had no intention of doing as he was only too familiar
with the spell that was likely the cause of it.
Julian seemed to anticipate what Severus was about to say because before
Severus was able to even open his mouth, Julian cut him off. "I am fine."
"I think I shall be the judge of that," Severus said, coolly.
Julian's gray eyes flitted subtly over to where his three class mates were
standing, willing the Potion Master to understand. They would already be
suspicious of the origin of his injuries without knowing the full extent of
them; he didn't need to give them reason to question him further.
Indeed, the Potion Master did undestand because he dismissed the three directly
despite the outbursts and protests. Finally, several minutes later, Draco,
Blaise, and Pansy left, the look Draco shot him told him he wasn't going to get
out of their questions this easily.
When they were alone, Severus went over to his potion cabinet and began
plucking vials out.
"Need I even ask how you came to be in this state?" he asked.
"I am fine!" snarled Julian as he attempted once more to bring himself into an
upright position. This time he was able to albeit painfully.
Severus sent him a withering glare which Julian met defiantly. "I am," he
insisted.
Severus said nothing, but handed him a vial.
"What is this?" Julian asked, casting a wary glance at the foul smelling
potion.
"A potion of my own creation," said Severus, his voice uncharacteristically
soft. "It will help with the tremors caused by the Cruciatus curse."
"I don't need it," said Julian quickly.
Severus's obsidian eyes narrowed. "There is no need to lie, Mr. Malfoy. I am
quite familiar with the after effects of the Cruciatus curse as I have suffered
them myself. Now, take the potion," he insisted in a tone that brooked no
argument.
Giving the potion one last nasty look, Julian drank it, grimacing at the taste
that was just as foul as its smell. The effects, however, were almost
immediate. The heaviness in his body was receding as was the pain. He let out a
sigh of relief and fell back against the couch.
Severus pressed another vial into his hand. "A pain potion," his said. At
Julian's raised brow, he continued. "Another of my creations. It's fairly
similar, but I've added a muscle relaxant."
Julian drank this one with little resistance. He didn't relish being in pain in
the least. Severus pressed another vial of potion - the last one - into his
hand. This one Julian recognized. It was a calming draught, and while it was
not precisely needed, it was mot welcomed. He drank it, and his eyes closed
automatically as the calming sensation spread throughout his body.
"Now," Severus said, sitting in one of the chairs opposite the couch. "Tell me
what happened with the Dark Lord. I am correct in my assumption that he is the
cause of your injuries?"
"Yes," Julian said, tersely. "You are correct."
"Why did the Dark Lord punish you? I was under the impression that he held you
in high esteem," pressed Severus.
At this, Julian scowled, his gray eyes flashing in anger. "The Dark Lord is...
unhappy with me," he said simply.
But it was he who was angry with the Dark Lord. Julian was no possession. He
was no mere object! The Dark Lord had no right to dictate his every action. Had
not Julian always done what he could to help the fallen wizard? Had he not gone
out of his way to do so when everyone else had forsaken him, when the men who
had vowed to serve him forever thought him defeated? Did he not, even now,
continue to do what was needed in order to ensure that he returned to power?
Knowing, as he now did, that he killed his birth parents? For there was no
doubt in his mind now that he was anyone other than what Dumbledore assumed.
"That much, Mr. Malfoy, I know. What I do not know is why."
Pushing the unhappy thoughts out of his mind, he gave Severus a sly smile.
"Back to Mr. Malfoy, are we, Severus? You needn't address me so formally any
longer... especially after this morning."
Severus looked unsettled momentarily before his usual sneering expression was
back on his face. "This morning, Mr. Malfoy, was a mistake. One that I intend
to rectify immediately. You are my student, my apprentice, and a fourteen year
old boy! While I will not dissolve your apprenticeship now, I must stress to
you that what occurred this morning is not to occur again, else I will be
forced to do so. Propriety demands it," he finished firmly.
Julian stared at Severus, aghast, at the mention of Severus dissolving the
apprenticeship. "Propriety?" he repeated incredulously. "Where was propriety
when your tongue was in my mouth, and your erection against my hip, Professor?
Must I remind you that it was you who kissed me?"
"I am aware of that," hissed Severus angrily. "As I have said, it was a
mistake. You are a child, Mr. Malfoy, though you seem to have forgotten that. I
repeat: it will not happen again."
"I have never been a child," said Julian, coolly, as he stood. He smoothed down
his disheveled robes and attempted to flatten his hair. He stalked out of the
room and entered the bathroom, washing his face as quickly as he could, not
even stopping to peer into the mirror more than absolutely needed to rid
himself of the blood.
Severus was still in the same place when Julian exited the bathroom.
"You said earlier that you had a package for me earlier. Where did you put it?"
he asked, not looking directly at Severus but at the door leading out of their
quarters, ignoring the painful way his chest constricted.
"I placed it on your bed after you departed," he replied, his voice weary.
Not giving the man a parting glance, Julian headed towards his room. The
package did, indeed, contain two small vials of phoenix tears as well as a
parchment envelope with Julian's name in elegant, flowing script. He cast a
quick tempus. There were still two hours left until the start of dinner, so
Julian collected his Potion notes as well as one of the vials of tears and
quickly left his room. He spent the next two hours preparing the ingredients
for the base of the potion. It was time-consuming work, and when he left the
lab to attend dinner, he had only managed to prepare the first two ingredients.
He bypassed the Slytherin table - and the searching looks from Draco, Blaise,
and Pansy - for the Gryffindor table, steeling himself for the onslaught. An
onslaught that did not come. Granger, Longbottom, and Weasley were noticeably
subdued, casting fervent glances at one another and at Julian when they thought
he was not looking, and Julian ate silently, not speaking to any one, not even
bothering to sneer at Weasley when he began speaking to Granger with his mouth
full of shepard's pie.
This formed the pattern for the next few days. Julian walked around as if in a
daze. He did not talk to anyone, if it could be helped. He especially did not
speak to Severus - nor did he think of him. In fact, Julian and Severus avoided
the other's presence for the most part. In lessons, they treated each other
with cool indifference, and outside of lessons, they did not interact at all.
Severus no longer stopped by his lab, and Julian had taken to leaving his
experimentation notes for him instead of reporting directly to him.
He hadn't been able to avoid his friend's question, however, but he had managed
to tell them the absolute minimum. They hadn't been satisfied, not by a long
shot, but they had accepted it.
The locket lay dormant and heavy against his chest, but Julian cared not. He
had done a fairly adequate job of not thinking about the Dark Lord. He had,
however, thought at great length about his true identity and the impact it
might have on his plans. The Boy-Who-Defeated-The-Dark-Lord helping to restore
him to power, it was quite ironic.
He also wondered when he would be informed of what Lucius intended to do about
the issue of his custody. He had not heard from his uncle since the day he'd
seen him at Riddle Manor, but Black had been utterly unbearable. He scowled
darkly whenever Julian entered the room, and he assigned Julian extra essays
instead of detentions which was just as well as Julian did not intend to attend
any detention the man assigned.
On the fourth day, there was no longer a need to wonder what Lucius planned to
do. Julian had overslept and running late, so he was one of the last to enter
the Great Hall. The chattering hall quieted as soon as he entered. He looked to
the Slytherin table to Draco in hopes of obtaining an explanation, but, at
spotting Julian, Draco glared hatefully and began whispering furiously to
Blaise who also avoided his gaze.
"Is it true?" asked Granger in a horrified tone when he sat down.
"Is what true?" Julian snapped angrily.
Granger gasped. "You don't know?" she asked. "Here." She handed Julian her copy
of the Daily Prophet.
Julian growled when he read the headline.
JULIAN MALFOY - HIDDEN SON OF LUCIUS MALFOY?by Rita Skeeter
"He's not my nephew," confesses a distraught Lucius Malfoy, 40, of Wiltshire,
England. "He's my son, and I demand that Sirius Black drop this ridiculous
custody suit..."
Review this Story/Chapter
***** What You've Done to Me *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to
find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? His action sets off a chain of
events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions Master -
reeling.
===============================================================================
A/N: Before everyone worries: Julian is not going light. Just thought I'd throw
that out there first.
The Facade of Innocence
ByKoinaka
To beguile the time;
Look like the time,
Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue:
Look like the innocent flower
But be the serpent undern't
Macbeth Act 1 Scene 5
Chapter Sixteen
What you've done to me
To say Julian was unhappy would have been a gross understatement. He was
absolutely livid. In the two days following his dear father's confession, he
had been forced to endure hours of pitying glances and well-meaning
conversations with the Gryffindors, angry glares from Draco - who, by the way,
still would not speak to him, not even to insult him - and cold, indifference
from Severus. He had taken to locking himself into the lab for hours on end and
not leaving save for meals, classes, and - briefly - to sleep.
After the third day of this, he was summoned to the Headmaster's office where
he soon found himself immersed in a shouting match between Black and Lucius.
It seemed folly to intervene, but as Julian's head was throbing and the locket
had been twinging all morning long, he didn't rightly care.
"I don't suppose either of you would care to hear what my wishes are?" asked
Julian, dryly, when he thought he could take no more of their squabbling.
Dumbledore seemed to contemplate this for a long moment before finally
acquiescing. "Perhaps we should listen to Julian. It is his placement the two
of you are attempting to decide, after all. Go ahead, Julian."
"It's been brought to my attention," began Julian. "That it matters not who
exactly retains my custody formally. The moment I entered into the
apprenticeship with Professor Snape, he became, for all intents and purposes,
my guardian. It is foolish to continue on in such a public manner when it
matters not. I will spend the majority of the year in school, and my holidays
will be spent with Professor Snape as is his right - and my benefit - as he is
my Master."
Both men seemed to be about to say something, so Julian continued quickly.
"After all, it would be to my detriment if I were forced to suspend my studies
over the summer holidays, and all of this pomp and circumstance is about what
is best for me, is it not?"
It was a calculated risk on Julian's part. One that he had been contemplating
for the past several days. He wasn't sure why no one - including himself - had
mentioned the fact that Severus held custody of him. Had not the Granger girl
mentioned reading about it, he would not have known himself. Staying with
Severus - no matter how unpleasant that was - was a much better alternative to
boarding with Black or Lucius. He could hardly stand to be in the same room
with Black, and Lucius... well, Lucius had a great deal of explaining to do.
One of the potions he had brewed during his encampment there was a simple
potion used to determine the parentage of a child. It wasn't well known as
there aren't often paternity disputes within the magical world, but
nevertheless, he had discovered it within one of his books and set off to brew
it the morning the article printed.
The results were rather revealing. Lucius Malfoy was his father, or so the
potion said. There was no mention of a mother. That seemed rather telling to
Julian, but at least he was assured that Dumbledore wouldn't attempt to prove
he was Harry Potter, son of Lily and James Potter by use of the potion. Even
with Lucius listed as his father, Lily Potter's name would be more than enough
evidence for the wizarding world.
Regardless of his parentage, Julian refused to be released into Lucius's
custody. As he had stated before, Julian was no mere possession, and he would
not abide people using him to their betterment. Especially when the result of
such betterment was Julian being cursed several times by a man whose magic is
wholly unstable. Likewise, he refused to be released into Black's custody. It
would be the same game different players there with Dumbledore leading the way.
Severus was a happy medium. Both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord believed him to
be firmly in their pocket. If Julian stayed with Severus, Dumbledore would
believe that he still retained some modicum of control and influence over him,
and the Dark Lord would be pleased he had another set of eyes and ears within
the Order of the Phoenix which, according to Bastian's letter, was an
organization whose sole purpose was the destruction of the Dark Lord. How
utterly macabre of them not to mention pathetic.
Basically, it was a win-win situation and given the small smile on Dumbledore's
lips, he agreed.
"Yes, yes, that is true," said the old man, happily. "Julian is right. His
needs must come first, don't you agree, gentlemen?"
And what could either man do but agree?
Unfortunately, it was not so easily settled within the rest of the school.
Severus had reluctantly agreed to it. Not that he'd had any choice in the
matter on either side, but otherwise, the school seemed not to know what to do
with him. Nor did the world for that matter. Bastian, with whom Julian was now
corresponding with regularly, said he cared not if Lucius was his real father.
Julian had thanked him for his continued support and had received for his
troubles an invitation to lunch during the next Hogsmeade weekend. The
Slytherins seemed to be standing by Draco for the most part, though Julian
occasionally found Blaise eyeing him hungrily. And the Dark Lord had been oddly
non-responsive. He did not seek out Julian for anything, and as Julian had not
yet been able to find a way to neutralize the potion, there was nothing to send
to him, but an update weekly which he owled to Lucius to pass along.
Draco seemed no closer to speaking to him even now, two weeks after the article
was printed, something that was threatening to drive Julian mad.
"You're being ridiculous," Julian told him during their Potions class. "It
isn't even my fault, Draco." That was true enough. Still, the blonde Malfoy
heir said nothing to him, not even insults. Julian would never admit this to
anyone, but the rejection of his cousin - brother? - was beginning to trouble
him. Growing up, Draco had been Julian's constant playmate and closest friend.
He'd never felt more alone than he did now.
"He'll come around," Blaise said softly later when Julian was leaving class.
"He just... feels betrayed, I think."
"But why won't he talk to me?" Julian asked, exasperated. "If he feels
betrayed, he certainly isn't alone in that! I just..." Julian sighed. "It isn't
even my fault! How does he think this makes me feel? I had to find out in the
paper, along with the rest of the wizarding world! My entire life has been
turned upside down, and the one person I thought I could depend on has chosen
to punish me for what his father has done!" Julian truly hadn't meant to become
so emotional, but he felt like a candle that was burning at both ends. He was
no closer to a solution with the revitalizing potion now than he had been
before, and if the letter he received from Lucius the day before could be
believed, the Dark Lord was growing impatient.
Julian let himself be drawn into the taller boy's arms.
"It'll get better," murmured Blaise, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles
on his back, the other falling down to rest on Julian's hip.
Julian took several deep breaths, inhaling Blaise's heady scent. He smelled of
sandlewood and a hint of jasmine, and Julian rather liked it. The hand that had
been rubbing his back was brought around and soon entangled within Julian's
soft curls, and when Blaise pressed his lips against his, Julian did not
hesitate to return the kiss. They kissed languidly for several moments, their
tongues entwining with one another. Both boys were breathless when they finally
parted. Blaise rested his forehead against Julian's, trailing one of his
fingers down Julian's cheek.
"We should get to class," said Blaise, rather reluctantly, when they had
regained their breath. "It wouldn't do to be late."
"No," agreed Julian, faintly. "It would not."
So, the two parted ways, Blaise headed for Defense Against the Dark Arts with
the Slytherins and Julian to Ancient Runes with the Gryffindors. As usual,
Granger was waiting for him outside the classroom, looking slightly worried.
"Are you ill?" she asked as she followed him into class. "You look flushed."
Did he now? Well, he supposed he rather did as he'd spent the last several
minutes snogging. "Hmm," he answered distractedly, pulling his books out of his
bag. "I'm fine, now sit if you are going to insist upon inflicting your
presence on my person."
She didn't even flinch at his obvious rudeness, they never did anymore. He
supposed they just assumed this was his personality, and for the most part,
they were correct. There were select others who truly knew Julian - Draco, the
Dark Lord, and he suspected Severus did as well.
The other Gryffindors were waiting for Granger when the two of them emerged
from Ancient Runes an hour and a half later. Julian was surprised to hear
Longbottom call out for him when Julian made to head back towards the dungeons
with the idea of getting some lab time in.
"Why don't you come with us to the Common Room?" he asked.
He started to say no, he really did, but something told him that he really
ought to go with them. Going to the lab was a pointless endeavor at this point.
At least until he met with Bastian the coming weekend and received the next
shipment of phoenix tears.
"I suppose I do have a spare bit of time," he drawled haughtily. "I've never
been to the Gryffindor common room, either. This should be... interesting."
And by interesting he meant rather painful, but he supposed it was an apt
description, all things considered.
If there was one word to describe the Gryffindor Common room, it would be...
gaudy. It was crimson and gold as far as the eye could see.
"I think I've been blinded," he remarked dryly as he lowered himself into one
of the overstuffed chairs that littered the room. "So, this is what Gryffindors
are like in their natural habitat."
The room was crowded, loud, and more than a little nerve wrecking. There were
several games of Exploding Snap taking place, girls gossiping and - much to
Julian's chagrin - casting what he assumed were supposed to be subtle glances
his way. The only problem was that Gryffindor's aren't known for the subtlety,
so it was quite obvious they were watching him.
"Can I talk to you for a minute, Malfoy?" asked Longbottom several moments
later. Weasley had joined a nearby game of Exploding Snap and Granger was busy
devouring a book.
"You seem to be able to, Longbottom," drawled Julian in a bored tone. "If the
sound coming from your mouth is any indication, or - and I'm leaning more
towards this scenario, I've gone mad and am now hearing voices. Either way,
yes, you may talk to me, if you absolutely must."
Longbottom flushed and glanced nervously around the room, before turning back
to Julian. "I saw you earlier today."
"Is that so?" asked Julian. "Seeing as how we've taken two meals together
today, I should hope you have seen me, otherwise it is your sanity that would
be under scrutiny and not my own."
"No," said Longbottom, lowering his voice. "I saw you earlier. With Zaibini."
Ah. Julian arched an elegant brow. "And? What of it? Surely you don't take
offense to it, do you? Come now, Longbottom, you are a pure-blood, are you not?
Even a family as light-orientated as yours must have been exposed to this at
some point. Relationships between two members of the same sex are not frowned
upon, as long as the necessary heirs are procured, of course."
"No, 'course I'm not offended," Longbottom said, shaking his head quickly. "I
was just wondering if the two of you are... you know," he lowered his voice yet
again, "together?"
"Not that it is any business of yours, but no, we aren't. It was just a kiss,
Longbottom. You know, the naivety of Gryffindors will never cease to amaze me.
Next thing you know you'll tell me all about how nice I am, and how I'm not at
all like my father, the big bad Death Eater."
A silence seemed to fall over the common room.
"But you are nice," said Longbottom quietly. "To me at least, and I've learned
more from you about Potions in the last month and a half than I have the last
three years here."
Julian laughed. "Oh, this is bloody brilliant! You lot think I'm nice?"
"I think you could be," Granger spoke up. "If you stopped trying to pretend
that you hate everything about us. We aren't all bad, you know, just like not
all Slytherins aren't bad."
"What makes you think I'm pretending?" queried Julian, eyebrow raised.
"Because whenever you think no one's watching, I see you let your guard down,
and you actually seem happy then. You really should try it more often," said
Granger.
Disgusted, Julian stood up. "You know nothing about me," he spat vehemently,
and without looking back, he stalked out of the Gryffindor Common Room and
headed back to the dungeon.
Severus was in his quarters reading a book when Julian arrived.
"Hello, Julian," he said, not looking up from his book.
"Talking to me now, are you?" said Julian, snidely.
"Watch your tone," warned Severus in a low tone. "I wanted to talk to you."
"Well, go on," snapped Julian, dropping into the chair across from Severus.
"I saw you and Mr. Zabini earlier."
Julian scoffed. "What? Is everyone this school turning out to be a bunch of
bloody voyeurs?" he muttered darkly.
Severus sneered. "One can hardly be called a voyeur when the action in question
is showcased in public."
"Well, what of it? Just because you don't want me doesn't mean there aren't
those who do. Why shouldn't I kiss whomever I choose to kiss?"
"The Dark Lord has requested I keep an eye on you. It seems that his magic is
not strong enough to sustain the connection afforded to him by the locket
constantly," Severus said, giving Julian a pointed look. "He's also told me you
are to cease your experimentation. He has discovered alternate methods to
returning to power. Ones that do not include you, it seems."
"Oh," breathed Julian, aghast. "Did he tell you of his plans?"
Severus's dark eyes studied him for a moment. "No, he did not. He does not see
fit to inform me of his every move, just as it appears he does not see fit to
inform you of his every move."
"I bet I know who does know," Julian said, dryly. "Lucius, he must know. Of
course he does," he muttered almost to himself. "So, that's it then? I've been
cast aside? Just because I've had some difficulty in my experimentations? After
everything I've done for him?" There was a deep ache in his chest. Angry though
he was at the Dark Lord - and make no mistake, he was angry - the one constant
in his life was him. First Severus, then Draco, and now the Dark Lord... would
he be stripped of everything he once held dear?
The look on Severus's face softened a bit. "The fault does not lie with you,
Julian. He is not a patient man, I'm sure you know this, and he could hardly
cast you aside. You're his heir, damned though you may be for it. He told me to
tell you to continue getting close to the Gryffindors, and that I am to report
to him immediately if I discover you have disobeyed his previous orders."
"The Dark Lord has no right to dictate the matters of my romantic life,"
snarled Julian.
"No, indeed he does not, but I'm afraid that you have allowed yourself to be
placed in a position for him to do so," Severus replied.
"Well, then, perhaps I ought to see what I can do about removing myself from
said position," said Julian, imperiously. "After all, he doesn't seem to need
me at all now, does he?"
***** Dangerous Liasons *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to
find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? His action sets off a chain of
events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions Master -
reeling.
===============================================================================
A/N: It's rather short, but I have mountains of school work to do, so please
forgive me! Thanks for all the reviews!
                            The Facade of Innocence
                                  By Koinaka
                             To beguile the time;
                              Look like the time,
               Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue:
                         Look like the innocent flower
                          But be the serpent undern't
                             Macbeth Act 1 Scene 5
                               Chapter_Seventeen
                              Dangerous Liaisons
"Merlin, Julian," breathed Pansy. "Look at you! You look positively sinful."
He was in the Slytherin Common Room with Pansy and Blaise. Pansy was now
speaking to him again, though Draco still wouldn't.
"I do look good, don't I?" Julian said with a satisfied look on his face as he
peered into a mirror. Perhaps he had been a bit too hasty in his declaration
that all red was garish and unseemly. He had to admit that the crimson did look
rather striking against his pale skin. The robe was form-fitting, but not
obscenely so, just enough so that there was no doubt that it was tailored
especially for him - not that there was ever a doubt that Julian's clothing was
finely made, but seeing as he was forced to wear the Hogwarts standard robes
that majority of the time, it was not as well known as it had been at
Durmstrang. He definitely felt more at ease in his personal clothing.
Blaise's eyes raked over Julian hungrily. "So, why so dressed up? It's just
Hogsmeade," he asked.
"Well," Julian said, slowly, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in his robe,
relishing in the feel of the luxurious material against his skin. "I'm meeting
someone."
"A date!" Pansy squealed, giggling. "You have a date! That's great! Who with?"
Blaise's lips were pursed and his eyes were slightly narrowed. He didn't seem
at all happy about the idea of Julian having a date. A week had passed since
their kiss. A week in which many more kisses were shared between the two boys,
but they were just that, kisses. Julian could not deny the attraction he felt
to the dark-skinned boy, but truly it was nothing compared to the attraction he
felt towards the Potion Master. Not that that mattered in the least anymore.
Severus never spoke to him, if he could help it, and then he only gave more
vague warnings and muttered comments that Julian pretended to neither hear nor
care about.
"It's not a date," he told Pansy in a firm tone. "I'm merely meeting an
acquaintance."
Pansy gave him a pointed look.
Julian shrugged elegantly. "Believe me or don't, it matters not," he said
flippantly, fussing with his blonde curls. They seemed more determined than
ever to stay in a state of disarray. A small scowl played on his lips. Finally,
admitting defeat, he turned to his friends, letting out an exasperated sigh.
"If you simply must know," his tone told them he did not believe this was the
case at all, "I have lunch plans with Bastian Delacour. I'm sure you are
familiar with him. He was, ah, friends with my... uncle," the word uncle in
regards to the man he'd known throughout his entire life as his father felt
foreign on his lips. Though he had established the two men were never lovers,
he needn't tell them that.
If the look on Pansy's face was any indication, she certainly was familiar with
the man in question. A pink flush covered her pale cheeks, but she recovered
quickly. "So, it's not a date, then?"
"Correct," Julian confirmed. "Now, are we going to go, or must I walk to
Hogsmeade alone?"
His two friends shuffled awkwardly and looked rather sheepish. Julian's eyes
narrowed. "You are accompanying me, aren't you?"
"We would, really, you know we would, but it's just..." Pansy breathed out
quickly.
"We promised Draco we'd go with him," Blaise finished.
"Ah," said Julian coolly. "Well, I won't take up any more of your time, then.
Do give my regards to my brother," he snarled and stalked out of the common
room.
He shouldn't have been surprised, really. Blaise and Pansy were Draco's closest
friends. Julian had only hoped he was their friend as well. Not that he needed
friends, but he was certainly more at ease spending time with them than with
his fellow Gryffindors. It had become rather tiring to keep up the double
persona he had been forced to don.
On the way to the entrance hall, Julian took several deep calming breaths. He
musn't allow his anger to overcome him today. Today was important. He had a
meeting with Bastian to prepare for, a meeting that must go off perfectly, if
Julian wished to obtain the needed information successfully, of course. After a
week of careful searching, he had found little to no useful information on the
Order of the Phoenix, other than the obvious - Dumbledore was the figurehead
and assumed leader of the vigilante group. He felt rather certain that he would
be able to glean the information with Bastian, and he was sure that the man
would be bringing him another vial or two of Phoenix tears. He had no intention
of stopping his experimentation. If anything, he had worked harder since
Severus's revelation. Progress was progress, was it not?
Even if the Dark Lord felt he wouldn't benefit from it, why should Julian stop?
His entire life didn't revolve around the Dark Lord, did it? Oh, no doubt it
had - for far too long, if he was honest with himself - but he felt he had more
than done his duty for the fallen wizard, and he would continue to. Unless, of
course, the man gave him further cause not to do so. He had no intention of
reforming and joining the light side - he shuddered at the very thought of it,
in fact - but he was a powerful wizard. His father had seen to that, directing
his training himself since Julian was a small child, in fact he had absolutely
relished in the raw power Julian could wield. And, make no mistake, Julian
could wield it. He chose not to do so, for the most part, choosing instead to
focus on Potions for the moment, allowing Dumbledore and others - even the Dark
Lord, especially the Dark Lord - to underestimate him.
But he was no fool. He knew the power he held, he could feel it simmering below
the surface of his skin, coiled in preparation, just waiting for the
opportunity to be used. Power that ached whenever he was near the Potion
Master, yearning to be closer - always closer - to the man. It was dangerous to
others, but especially to him. He knew neither the Dark Lord, nor Dumbledore
for that matter, would want to allow that power to be placed with either side.
Speaking of the Potion Master, he was heading towards Julian now, an unpleased
look upon his face.
"Mr. Malfoy, I do not appreciate being kept waiting."
"Why Severus," simpered Julian. "I didn't know you were waiting for me."
"Ten points from Gryffindor," snarled the man. "Now, if you don't mind, we
should retire to the lab. There are several things I must discuss with you
pertaining your progress."
"Ah," said Julian, softly. "I'm afraid that I am unable to do so at this time
as I was just on my way out of the castle. It is a Hogsmeade weekend after all.
Perhaps we could move the meeting to a more convenient time, such as later this
evening?"
There was a slight twitch in Severus's right eye. "I do not care whether the
meeting is convenient to you, Mr. Malfoy. You are my apprentice, and you will
do as I say."
Julian's pink lips curved into a wicked grin, his gray eyes flashing with
mirth. "And what will you do to me, Professor, if I disobey you?" Julian all
but purred at the flustered man. "You've said yourself I've not the time for
detentions, and I must warn you that should you choose corporal punishment, you
might be in for a surprise - as it would not be a punishment for me in the
slightest," he said sweetly. Julian received an abundance of joy in goading the
easily angered man. He was still uncertain of why Severus had the effect on him
that he seemed to have. He couldn't stay mad at the man for any extended period
of time, and despite how cold and indifferent Severus tried to be, it was
obvious that Julian affected him as well.
Severus blanched then flushed a deep red color that was wholly unattractive on
the man before finally regaining his composure.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor. Now, I will meet you in the lab in half-an-hour.
Do not be late," he said before spinning around and continuing his descent into
the dungeons.
Julian tutted lightly. "I'm afraid I truly must decline your offer, Professor.
I've already a meeting today. With Bastian Delacour. You remember him, I'm
sure? I simply can't reschedule, Order business, you know," he finished in a
hushed voice.
Severus froze, the muscles in his back tensing, before he whipped back around.
Julian had never seen such a look on the man's face before. He looked
completely enraged. He advanced on Julian quickly, and before Julian had time
to react, he had grabbed the boy harshly and all but dragged him to their
quarters.
"What are you trying to do, get your fool self killed?" the livid man snarled
when they were alone.
Julian's eyes widened innocently. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
"This is not a game, Julian!" hissed Severus. "The Dark Lord will kill you if
he believes you have betrayed him!"
"He'll not kill me," said Julian confidently. "I house a portion of his soul,
or have you forgotten that?"
This did not seem to comfort the man in the slightest. "Fine, he will not kill
you, but you will wish he had in the end. You will beg for it, plead for it,
think of nothing, but the sweet release of death, but you will never find it.
You will be driven mad, but you will still breath, still feel. Is that what you
wish for, Julian? To be tortured beyond belief, beyond compare? Because that is
what he will do to you if you even attempt such a thing, if you even think of
attemptin such a thing. The Dark Lord has become," he faltered momentarily,
pausing for a few seconds, before continuing, though he did not finish his
previous thought, "... his attachment to you is unhealthy, Julian. You musn't
provoke him - you must not do this! It is madness, Julian, it is folly!"
The man was becoming wholly unraveled, and it surprised Julian, even frightened
him a bit, if he were honest with himself. He gave Severus a withering look.
"You are blowing this completely out of proportion, Professor. I have no
intention of... betraying the Dark Lord. That is more your forte, is it not?
Besides, it is the Dark Lord's wish that I entrench myself as deeply as I can
within the Order. Does it really come as such a surprise to you that I am doing
so? I am but a servant, after all," Julian said, not able to completely hide
the disgust the idea spurred in him.
"A servant that continually disregards the Dark Lord's orders!" the man
retorted. "Or did you not think I was aware of your indiscretions with Mr.
Zabini? The Dark Lord will be highly unpleased if he discovers your dalliances
with the boy, or that I have kept it from him."
"I think," Julian said, coolly, "that I have already made my own displeasure
known about the Dark Lord's prying into my private affairs as they are just
that - private. Tell him if you feel you truly must, I care not. Now, if you've
nothing further - and I'm sure you don't - , I really must leave."
Severus fell silent, but just before Julian reached the door, he called out for
him. "Julian, the Dark Lord's new plans do involve you."
"In what way?" Julian said, arching a blonde eyebrow.
"I cannot say," Severus replied truthfully, though Julian could see the disgust
the man obviously felt at whatever information he held. "You must end whatever
it is you have with Zabini, Julian, you must."
"Your concern is duly noted," Julian told him. "Unneeded, but noted. Shall I
meet you here this evening?"
With a look of resignation on his face, Severus nodded slowly.
"Very well," Julian said and left the room quickly, wondering exactly what sort
of plans the Dark Lord had for him.
***** Destiny or Something Like It *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? His action sets off a chain
of events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions Master -
reeling.
===============================================================================
bleh. Three papers due this week. I ought not be writing fanfic at all... but
here we are! I don't like this chapter, but here it is. Expect a time jump in
the next.

                            The Facade of Innocence
                                  By Koinaka
                             To beguile the time;
                              Look like the time,
               Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue:
                         Look like the innocent flower
                          But be the serpent undern't
                             Macbeth Act 1 Scene 5
                               Chapter Eighteen
                         Destiny or something like it
Julian had almost - almost - managed to escape Hogwarts without drawing the
Gryffindors' attentions. Almost being the key word. Half way to the Entrance
Hall, Julian found himself surrounded on all sides.
"Oh, good, we caught you," said Granger, relief apparent on her face.
Never was there a more apt term than caught, Julian thought, as he attempted to
work out a way to escape his newfound companions without drawing attention to
himself - unfortunately... there seemed to be nothing forthcoming.
"You're awfully dressed up for Hogwarts," Weasley commented lightly as they
began the brisk walk to the village.
Julian gave Weasley's jumper and trousers a critical look. "Wizarding apparel
is meant to be formal, Weasley," he drawled. "But I wouldn't expect you to
understand."
"Take that back, Malfoy!" snarled Weasley
Juian's eyes widened. "Take what back? I was only being honest. Now, be a good
little Gryffindor and go bother your girlfriend so I can speak with Longbottom
- alone."
Julian was the rewarded with the immensely pleasing experience of seeing
Weasley's face become redder than his hair - a truly surreal moment, if he were
being honest.
"She's not my girlfriend," he muttered, glancing at said witch out of the
corner of his eye. Longbottom and Granger were deep in conversation ahead of
them.
"And she never will if you continue to concern yourself with me. Now, kindly
remove yourself from my side."
Weasley's blue eyes narrowed. "I don't want you to be alone with Neville!
Merlin only knows what you'll do to him! I don't trust you not to ... take
advantage of him!"
Julian laughed. Loudly. He couldn't help but. "You have absolutely nothing to
worry about, Weasley, I assure you. Longbottom is the last boy at Hogwarts I
would bed. I prefer my men powerful, not completely inept."
Julian could tell that he had presented Weasley with a conundrum. If he
defended his friend, it would appear as if he wanted Longbottom to be good
enough for Julian. If he didn't defend his friend... well, either way. It was a
no-win situation that Julian was finding immense joy in.
Finally, the boy left Julian, sparing one last glare at the younger Malfoy as
he moved to catch up with Granger and Longbottom.
The three exchanged a significant look before giving Julian the same sort of
look. A moment later, Granger and Weasley left an apprehensive looking
Longbottom to await Julian.
"Er, Ron said you wanted to talk to me?" Longbottom asked, nervously running
his hand through his hair.
"Why so nervous?" Julian asked. "You've said yourself, I'm perfectly harmless.
You needn't worry. I don't bite - unless provoked."
"'m not nervous," muttered Longbottom.
Julian raised an elegant brow as if to say, are you certain about that? "You
are close to Professor Black, are you not?" Julian said, cutting right to the
chase. He had no time to be coy, and even if he had, it would be wasted on
Longbottom.
"Well, he tutors me, sometimes... in Defense, you know."
Julian's eyebrows rose higher. "In Defense. Why would you need special defense
lessons? You seem... fairly adequate in that class." Well, Julian allowed, for
the most part.
Longbottom shrugged. "Dunno, really. Dumbledore's never said why, just that one
never knew when it might be useful to have extra Defense work. Used to be just
Professor Black, but now Professor Snape helps me, too."
Well, well, what have we here? Julian barely barely kept the grin off of his
face. It seemed he wasn't alone in traitorous actions. Not that Julian was
actively betraying the Dark Lord, because he most certainly was not, but
"Well, Longbottom, I can't tell you how excessively useful you have been. I
really must run though, I've a friend to meet. I'll see you round," Julian
said, before parting from the stuttering boy.
The Three Broomsticks was rather like The Leaky Cauldron, Julian thought, as it
tended to attract the dregs of society. Julian spotted Bastian the moment he
entered the... establishment.
"Julian," said the French wizard, clasping his hands tightly. "You're looking
well."
A blush came unheeded to Julian's face under Bastian's intense scrutiny. He
nodded. "You, as well. How is life treating you?" he asked when they were
seated.
"Horrifically boring, at the moment, but that is very good news for a
diplomat!" he said, chuckling richly.
"Oh?" queried Julian. "A diplomat, are you? Since when?"
Bastian cast a wary glance around the bar. "Perhaps this is not the place for
such a conversation?" he said, in his accented speech. "Would you care to
accompany me up to my room? I promise nothing untoward will happen to you while
in my company. I would never suggest such a thing, but conversations about such
delicate matters should not be conducted in so public a venue."
"You needn't worry, Bastian. I trust you explicitly." Julian was surprised to
discover this did not feel like an untruth.
Bastian nodded, distractedly, and motioned for Julian to follow him up the
narrow staircase to where the rooms were located. Once they were enclosed
within the small inn-room, Bastian cast a series of intricate wards - some
Julian had heard of, some he had not.
"I know," Bastian said, his clear blue eyes fixed on Julian.
A quirk of a blonde eyebrow. "You know," repeated Julian, slowly. "I'm afraid
you will have to be more clear as to what it is that you know."
"I know that you are not the biological son of Lucius Malfoy - or of any
Malfoy."
Julian's breath hitched in his chest. He gave Bastian a tight smile. "Well, it
seems you are ill informed. I am the son of Lucius Malfoy."
"You are now, but you weren't always. Do not waste your breath on lies, Julian,
believe me when I say - I know."
Julian's eyes widened. "And how, if I may be so bold as to inquire, did you
happen upon such information?"
"I've known, always, since before the moment of our meeting," said Bastian,
softly. "The stars speak of you often."
"You're mad," breathed Julian. "You will tell me how you know, damn you."
"The stars speak of you often," Bastian repeated.
"What does that mean?" he hissed angrily.
"Only that and nothing more."
"Stop speaking in bloody riddles, Bastian!" demanded Julian, flushing now with
anger.
"The Delacours are an old family, Julian," he stated, softly. "Pureblooded for
the most part, yes, but every so often, new blood was introduced. Veela blood
is not the only blood that runs through my veins. My maternal great-great-
grandfather was a centaur."
Julian's eyes widened further. Bastian laughed, the sound of bells tinkling.
"I've never taken much time to figure out the... how, but I know the truth of
it, have seen the photographs of them together. Because of this, divination has
always come easily to me."
"Divination," repeated Julian, dully.
"Yes, divination," confirmed Bastian.
"So, you know."
"Yes."
Julian sighed heavily. "You won't tell anyone, will you? I'd rather they not
know."
"But they will," said Bastian, wisely. "The stars speak of you often, Julian.
It is your destiny to be known." He pulled out several vials of Phoenix tears
and handed them to Julian before showing him to the door.
"Wait," Julian cried. "What of your diplomacy?"
There was an odd look on Bastian's face. "The stars always take care of their
own," he told Julian.
"But what does that mean?"
Bastian reached down and traced the lightening bolt scar that marred Julian's
forehead softly. "When the time is right, you will know."
"Why did you never tell me who I truly was if you knew?" Julian demanded
instead, knowing he would learn nothing more about the nonsense Bastian was
spewing.
"You weren't ready to know, and in many ways, you are still not ready, but it
is not for the stars to say why. You must go now. I will contact you when next
I can. Be careful, Julian. He is becoming suspicious of you. You must not draw
any undue attention to yourself."
"I will," he told him. Julian had nothing to worry about, after all, he was not
afraid of the Dark Lord.
Bastian shook his head sadly. "You do not understand," he said. "You are so
young, so very young, to be caught in the very very sticky web your Master
weaves, but caught you will be if you do not listen to the warnings of the
stars. A mother's love is absolute. Your mother's love ripped him from his body
and sentenced him to a decade of torment as a spirit. He will use that love to
his advantage - if you allow him to, that is. You mustn't allow him, Julian."
"Let me guess," drawled Julian. "The stars speak often of me, and they tell you
what will happen next."
"Yes," confirmed Bastian once more. "They do. They speak often and very highly
of you. Do not let them down."
And with that, he pushed Julian softly out the door. It closed with a
resounding thud.
On the way back to Hogwarts, Julian replayed the conversation over and over
again in a vain attempt to make sense of it, but he could not. It was
completely nonsensical. The only conclusions that he could come up with were
either that Bastian was part-centaur and thus a star-gazer and diviner, or he
was mad as a hatter. Julian was leaning on the latter, as he did not want to
contemplate the former. Divination was complete and utter rubbish.
Only... only... only... The Dark Lord had mentioned a prophecy, hadn't he?
No. Absolutely not. Like he said, divination was complete rubbish.
So, how had Bastian known who he was? Well, there was always the slight chance
that Dumbledore told him. He was an Order member, that much Julian knew. But it
was quite obvious that no matter what Bastian may or may not be, he was not
going to be telling Julian any useful information, on the Order or anything
else for that matter. He supposed he should be grateful for the tears.
But there was one person who he thought might be of some use to him, Julian
knew, but he wanted nothing to do with the man.
Not that his wants seemed to be of much concern now...
The halls of Hogwarts were quiet. So much so that it was exceedingly
disconcerting for Julian as he approached the hall where the Defense Against
the Dark Arts office was located. Perhaps they were always this quiet on
Saturday afternoons. They could be, for all that Julian knew. He spent most
Saturdays in the bowls of the dungeon brewing, after all.
Laughter could be heard through the door. A soft chuckle and a deep, throaty,
barking laughter. Julian knocked confidently. The door swung open a moment
later, and Julian found himself in front of a grinning Sirius Black. Positively
frightening. However, he had no reason for alarm because the grin seemed to
slide off his face the moment Black saw Julian.
"Malfoy," he said, tersely. "Shouldn't you be in Hogsmeade today?"
"Already been, thanks," replied Julian, sweetly. "I was wondering if you could
spare a moment of your time, perhaps...?"
"I'm afraid I have no time to spare, Malfoy!" Black said, hotly. However, there
was another with him in the room.
Remus Lupin. Julian had seen him before, hanging about the school. He knew all
about him, of course, from Pettigrew. He was a werewolf. "Don't be silly,
Sirius. Do come in, Mr. Malfoy. How may we be of assistance today?"
Black was scowling in the corner, but Lupin had a kind smile on his face. It
was not as easy to dislike Lupin, though he managed with a little effort.
Julian hesitated. Not a real hesitate, however, but a much practiced one that
he had perfected years ago. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "May I
come in?"
"No!" Black snarled at the same time Lupin said, "Yes."
Black sighed, angrily, pushing his hands through his hair. "Fine, won't you
come in?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"Yes, I will. Thank you," said Julian. "Now, then, I know you really would
rather I not be anywhere in your general vicinity - a sentiment I whole-
heartedly echo - but I have a proposition for you..."
Severus was waiting for him when he returned to their quarters.
"Ah, Professor, just the traitor I was looking for," he purred.
Severus tensed ever so slightly.
"All of those vague warnings and insinuations about my loyalty, and you are the
one giving Longbottom special secret training. Highly suspect, I should think."
Obsidian eyes narrowed. "What I do is of no concern to you," he snapped.
"Oh, but it is, you see. Ever since the Dark Lord decided to use me to practice
his wand work, I've been doing some thinking, and I've come to a decision. I
will remove the spell you are under, allowing you to spy once more if - if -
you report every word he utters back to me."
Severus was frozen, mouth agape. "Why?" he breathed out softly. "Why would you
do that?"
Julian cocked his head to the side and considered the man in front of him.
"Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven."
***** To Anger a Malfoy *****

Author's notes: What would happen if Lucius Malfoy, not Hagrid, was the person
to
find Harry in the wreckage of Godric's Hollow? His action sets off a chain of
events that will leave the wizarding world - and a certain Potions Master -
reeling.
===============================================================================
Note the rating. It is that for a reason. This chapter is it.
Disclaimer: Own nothing. Some dialog was taken from Goblet of Fire.

                            The Facade of Innocence
                                  By Koinaka
                             To beguile the time;
                              Look like the time,
               Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue:
                         Look like the innocent flower
                          But be the serpent undern't
                             Macbeth Act 1 Scene 5
                               Chapter Nineteen
                              To Anger a Malfoy
By the time the foreign schools were to arrive at Hogwarts for the Triwizard
Tournament, the wizarding world was up in arms. Several very interesting things
had happened over the last several weeks:
The first interesting thing was that an anonymous tip had led to a rather large
scale raid on the Malfoy home. Lucius had only barely managed to escape a term
in Azkaban. It was only his continual lining of the Minister's pockets that
saved him. One more such raid, and even that wouldn't be able to save him as
the Minister's reputation was quickly becoming as marred as Lucius'.
Fortunately, the Ministry hadn't known about the secret room in Malfoy Manor
that held the unspeakable artifacts. Unfortunately, for Lucius, Julian did.
The second interesting thing was that one Peter Pettigrew, the so-named
Betrayer-of-the-Light, had been found near the unsuspecting muggle village of
Little Hangleton. He was now serving a life sentence in the newly rewarded
Azkaban - without the benefit of his animagus form.
The third interesting thing that had occurred was the discovery that Barty
Crouch, Jr. who was assumed to have died in Azkaban was very much alive and
well - or as well as a deranged man could be. He was now reinstated in his
previous home: Azkaban.
And the fourth interesting thing - which was really just a delightful result of
the three previous things - was that the Ministry of Magic was now the subject
of international scrutiny and ridicule.
All in all, Julian was quite pleased with the chaos he had wrought. Oh, it was
a very dangerous game he was playing at now, indeed, but Julian was quite aware
of what he was doing. He had effectively wiped out the Dark Lord's support
base. If the Dark Lord still intended to return to power, he would need Julian
to do so. And Julian wasn't feeling particularly generous these days.
"The Dark Lord has inquired after your well-being, Julian," Severus said as he
entered the personal laboratory that he and Julian shared.
"Is that so?" queried Julian, not bothering to take his eyes off of his potion.
"Do you think yourself untouchable, Julian? You must stop this madness!"
Now, Julian did look up. Severus, he thought, was looking particularly harried.
Julian gave him a placating smile. "I don't know what you are referring to,
Master Snape. I've done nothing wrong. How could I have? I'm not in contact
with the Minister or Madame Bones, am I? And I haven't left Hogwarts since
Hogsmeade weekend. The Dark Lord is aware of this. I'm afraid our mutual friend
must reconsider his previous decisions else he find himself all alone without
anyone to do his bidding. It wouldn't due for such a thing to occur, now would
it?"
Severus studied him for several long moments. "What are you planning, Julian?"
Julian flashed the Potion Master a brilliant smile while shaking his head. "You
needn't concern yourself, Master Snape. In fact, the less you know, the better,
wouldn't you say?"
Severus nodded slowly. In this, Julian was correct.
"Excellent. Now, tell me, how is my father doing these days..."
Blaise's lips trailed from Julian's lips down to his jaw and began the descent
down his neck, stopping every so often to nibble on patches of sensitive skin,
relishing in the breathy sighs and moans they wrought from Julian.
"Oh, oh," gasped Julian as Blaise's hand slid into his robe and grasped a hold
of him. His eyes fluttered close, thick black eye lashes curling on the
porcelain skin of his cheek as Blaise's hand began to move deliciously slow.
They had grown bolder in their explorations over the last several weeks. Julian
had tried to dissuade Blaise of his affections, telling him that he didn't love
him, and probably never would but the Zabini heir hadn't cared.
He'd sneered at Julian briefly before a wolfish grin took the sneer's place.
"Love?" he scoffed. "How very plebeian, Juli. Who said anything about love? I
certainly didn't. Besides, who needs love when you have carnal pleasures?"
Who, indeed?
"You're thinking again," stated Blaise, stopping the motion of his hand.
Julian's eyes flew open.
"I'm not thinking," Julian retorted a bit breathlessly, eyes dilated and wide
with pleasure.
"You are," countered Blaise. "I can tell, you know. Stop thinking Julian. For
Merlin's sake, that's all you do - plot and think. For once just let yourself
bloody feel."
Every word spoken had been punctuated by the unbuttoning of a button, and when
all was said and done, the front of Julian's robe lay open. With a wicked glint
in his eye, Blaise lowered his head to the creamy white skin of Julian's chest.
Julian's breath hitched as Blaise tentatively licked his nipple before pulling
it gently between his teeth. His hand resumed his slow ministration as he did
the same to the other nipple. He was determined to strip Julian of every ounce
of his control. His lips - and tongue - moved slowly downward, stopping briefly
to swirl in Julian's belly button, before hovering over their target.
All of this was very new to Blaise as well. Never had he touched another, nor
had any other touched him, but he had always know that he would find no
pleasure with the fairer sex. Not that Julian wasn't fair because he most
certainly was. All blonde hair and creamy white skin, even his cock was creamy
white - though to be fair it was flushed a delicious pink color now - and
nestled amidst blonde curls. He exhaled slowly, his breath ghosting over Julian
causing the boy's cock to twitch in response. Just as with his nipples before,
Blaise darted his tongue out and, starting at the tip, licked Julian's entire
length. He wasn't even sure he would be any good at this, but Julian's
answering moan gave him the confidence needed to take Julian fully into his
mouth.
Julian's hips surged forward, wanting, needing, more of the delicious heat that
surrounded him, and before long, his tenuous hold on his self control was gone,
a symphony of moans falling freely from his lips as his world exploded into
ecstasy. Neither boy noticed the figure lurking in the doorway.
--
"So, how do you think they'll be arriving?" asked Weasley. Nearly the entire
school was huddled on the front lawn of the castle awaiting the arrival of the
schools. Julian found himself, as was nearly always the case now, inexplicably
surrounded by Gryffindors.
"Do you know?" Granger asked Julian.
"Durmstrang will be arriving by boat," he replied.
"Are you excited about seeing your friends?" asked Blaise. He was leaning flush
against Julian's back, his head resting on Julian's shoulder.
Julian let out a dark chuckle. "Friends?" he asked, incredulously. "Come now,
Blaise, surely you know better than that. Durmstrang students do not have
friends. We have allies and associates. We do not need friends."
"In other words," said Pansy shrewdly. "They didn't like you."
Julian sneered at the girl. All afternoon long she'd been a right pain.
"Perfection does have its drawbacks. Not that I expect you to understand. Why
aren't you with my darling brother? Finally get tired of trailing along behind
him waiting for him to pay you some modicum of attention?"
Pansy narrowed her eyes at Julian, but before she could retort, Draco had
stepped up beside her. "Don't pay any attention to him, Pansy, darling. You
can't expect the unwanted bastard my father sired to be likable, can you? Even
the Gryffindors don't spend more time than necessary with him, and they make it
their business to get along with mudbloods like him, " he drawled haughtily.
Julian's eyes flashed with anger, and his entire body was trembling with the
effort it took to not hex Draco into next week. Instead, he schooled his face
into a mask of indifference. "A mudblood, am I? That doesn't say much about
you, now, does it? If I'm a mudblood - and you know very well that I am not -
then you have been out performed all of your life by one. Of course, it
wouldn't take much to do that, now would it?" Julian smiled sweetly at Draco
then. Of course, Draco's words hurt far more than Julian cared to admit. He had
been Julian's closest friend for years, and Julian felt his loss acutely.
"Come on, Pansy, Blaise, I wouldn't want to be seen cavorting with the likes of
them when the other schools arrive," said Draco.
Blaise gave Draco a sad smile, but stayed firmly where he was. "Go ahead,
Draco, I'm fine here."
Draco sneered. "Of course you are. Tell me, does my brother suck your cock,
too, or is it only you who does it?"
There was a gasp, and all eyes were on then. Behind Julian, Blaise tensed.
Before Julian - or Blaise, for that matter - could retort, the Durmstrang ship
emerged from the waters of the Great Lake, followed closely by the arrival of
the Beauxbaton students in what appeared to be a very ghastly powder blue
flying horse-drawn carriage. Immediately, the Hogwarts student began to murmur
excitedly as one by one students emerged from their various modes of
transportation. When his Headmaster emerged, his eyes immediately went to
Julian. Julian gave him a smirk and a very pointed look. Karkaroff blanched and
immediately averted his gaze.
"Dumbledore, my dear old friend, how are you?" the aged man said heartily,
giving the elderly wizard a significant look. Dumbledore grasped the
outstretched hand happily. To any student or fellow teacher, it was merely a
meeting of friends. To Julian, it was something much more, and his eyes
narrowed suspiciously. So, Karkaroff had turned to Dumbledore, had he? It was a
truly desperate move for a truly desperate man. It mattered not. His days were
already numbered, even Dumbledore would not be able to save him from the Dark
Lord's wrath.
Incoherent sputtering from beside him alerted Julian to Viktor Krum's arrival.
Weasley's sputtering became louder as Viktor broke the ranks of Durmstrang
students to approach Julian, pulling him into a hug when he reached them.
"We've much to discuss, Julian," murmured Viktor, slipping into German. "You
are in grave danger,."His breath was hot against Julian's neck, a vast contrast
to the cool night air. Viktor pulled back giving Julian a warm smile. "Vell,
aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" he asked, in thickly
accented English.
Julian seemed to consider this for a moment. "Of course," he drawled. "Viktor,
this is Blaise Zabini. Blaise, I'm sure you've heard of Viktor Krum."
Blaise smirked. "Yes, I do believe I have heard of him. You play Quidditch, do
you not? Seeker, perhaps?" Blaise's dark eyes glittered with amusement.
Viktor laughed deeply. "And the others?" he asked, motioning towards where
Weasley, Longbottom, and Granger stood, his gaze lingering on Granger.
"Oh, them," said Julian, dismissively. "That's Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom,
and Hermione Granger."
Viktor greeted each in turn before Karkaroff shouted at him to rejoin his
group.
"Later?" he asked Julian.
"Later," Julian agreed.
An hour later found Julian and Blaise settled in comfortably at the Gryffindor
table enjoying dinner as Dumbledore explained the Triwizard Tournament
proceedings.
"You and Krum seem rather close," said Blaise.
"Mmhmm," agreed Julian. "We did train together, and attend classes together."
"But he's seventeen!" argued Granger. "You can't have."
"Yes, well, I'm quite advanced in most of my classes - including the Dark Arts.
Especially the Dark Arts," drawled Julian.
Several gasps rang out.
"Oh, do calm down for pity sake," Julian sneered. "I'm not going to curse
anybody - for now. Though, if you lot continue prove your never ceasing
ignorance, I may become so inclined. I know the rules, like any other student.
Dark Arts aren't permitted at your precious school. I'd never dream of breaking
the rules. Now, look, it seems Dumbledore's about to give some sort of speech."
Indeed, it did seem that way. Dumbledore smiled jovially, his eyes twinkling
madly. He cleared his throat before he began speaking again.
"Now, for what everybody has been waiting for. I am quite certain that there is
no need to reinforce the rules of the tournamnt tonight. Once the champions are
chosen, I will revisit this subject in great length with them individually. For
now, anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and
school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet. Aspiring
champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow
night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged
most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the
entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing
to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be
drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the
entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this
line...I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this
tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected
by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to
the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical
contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion.
Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play
before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I believe it is time for bed.
Good night to you all." *
Julian frowned. He hadn't been told about the Age Line. How was he to enter the
tournament now? He had every intention of doing so, he only need trick the Age
Line, and how difficult would that be?
There was a tugging on his sleeve. It was Blaise. "Do you want to walk down
with me to the dungeons?"
But Julian's eyes were staring fixedly at the Slytherin table where Karkaroff
was bustling his students off. "I'll meet you later," he promised. "I've
something to take care of first." He allowed his lips to brush over Blaise's
briefly before sauntering over to the Slytherin table.
"Hello Headmaster," purred Julian with a sweet smile on his face. "How are you
these days?"
***** The hour is always the darkest before dawn *****
                            The Facade of Innocence
                                  By Koinaka
                             To beguile the time;
                              Look like the time,
               Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue:
                         Look like the innocent flower
                          But be the serpent undern't
                             Macbeth Act 1 Scene 5
                                Chapter Twenty
                  The hour is always the darkest before dawn
Karkaroff was reluctant to meet with Julian in private, but he was just as
reluctant to conduct their inevitable conversation in a public venue. It was
for that reason alone, Julian knew, that he allowed Julian to accompany the
Durmstrang students back to their sea vessel. Viktor gave Julian a significant
look. Desperate men always resorted to desperate measures, he knew. In his
pocket, his fingers grasped his wand -- not the wand he was to use at Hogwarts,
but his wand. Julian inclined his head to his friend. He hoped that Viktor
would do nothing foolish if Karkaroff attempted to harm Julian. Not that Julian
thought he would, but Karkaroff was acting oddly. He walked in a manner quite
different from his previous gait, and every so often, his tongue would snake
out of his mouth in a familiar manner. Where had he seen that? He couldn't say
for sure, so he filed it away for later investigation.
"You've been a rather busy man," commented Julian, lightly
"Have I?" he asked.
"You have," confirmed Julian. "Ratting out my... father, having Wormtail
captured. Brave things to do, those."
A mad look appeared in his dark eyes, then.
"You lie," hissed the man, angrily.
"Oh?" queried Julian. "The Dark Lord believes you have been a very busy man.
Does it frighten you that he knows you are a traitor?"
Karkaroff came undone then. "You dirty, filthy, half-blood!" he snarled.
Julian's blood ran cold at that, but his face remained impassive. "You dare
call me a traitor when it is you who is the traitor. You dare to give me credit
with those things that I know were your doing? I've been nothing but faithful
to the Dark Lord. Can you say the same thing?"
Julian shrugged. "So you say... and I assume you've no proof to offer up that
you are innocent of those things, do you?"
"So The Dark Lord says," erupted Karkaroff, red and shaking. "I don't have to
explain anything to you."
"My, my, so angry. No need to be so defensive, Professor.. unless you are not
quite as innocent as you proclaim..."
Karkaroff let out a roar and pulled his wand on Julian, but Julian was quicker
by far, his wand was out and pointed at Karkaroff almost immediately.
A wicked grin spread across Julian's face as he thought of exactly how he could
ensure he was picked for the Triwizard Tournament.
"You'll forgive me for this, I'm sure," he said, offhandedly, before intoning,
"Imperio."
Karkaroff's eyes glazed over as Julian murmured his instructions. When he was
finished, Karkaroff blinked several times before his eyes cleared.
"What did you say?" he asked Julian, his brow furrowed.
"Nothing, Professor. It was a pleasure to see you again, but I'm afraid I've
things to do. I must be off now."
Karkaroff nodded slowly. "Likewise," he murmured, studying Julian suspiciously
before Julian gave him one last smile and showed himself out of the study and
the boat, hurrying to bottle the potion and take it to the werewolf. He'd told
them he would bring it straight after dinner, but he had been waylaid. He
hadn't meant to confront Karkaroff tonight, but things had a way of unraveling
out of his control these days.
He never saw the malicious grin on Karkaroff's face.
--
"You're late," snapped Black as he threw opened the door.
Julian quirked an eyebrow. "Perhaps I should leave, then, if you'd rather."
Black stared at Julian, sulkily, crossing his arms over his chest before moving
aside and allowing Julian entrance. "Fine, let's have it then."
Julian pulled the vial out of his pocket and set it on the table before him.
The liquid in the tiny vial was an iridescent blue color that cast a number of
rainbows against the wall when in the glow of the fire.
"Such a small vial," breathed Remus Lupin, his amber eyes fixated on said vial.
Julian shrugged. "Perhaps, but it is far more than enough, I should think."
Sirius Black whipped his eyes from the vial to Julian, sneering at the boy. "If
this hurts him..."
Julian cocked a blonde eyebrow at the professor. "He knows the risks -- what
little risks there are. The potion itself isn't dangerous. Come now, Professor
Black, it's mostly phoenix tears -- amongst other things. There's nothing to
say he must take it. Take it or not, I truly don't care."
But Lupin had already taken the vial from him and had it at his lips. He drank
deeply, consuming the entire vial in one swallow. Julian studied the wolf.
There seemed to be no change -- outwardly at least. Then, Lupin took in a
staggering breath and his eyes widened.
"It doesn't hurt," he said, in an awe-struck tone. "My body -- it doesn't
hurt."
"What does that mean?" demanded Black to Lupin before turning to Julian. "What
does that mean?"
Julian shrugged. "I've no idea. I told you this hadn't been tested."
"So, what do we do now?" Black asked.
"You wait until the full moon."
"That's it! That's all you can tell us -- to wait!" snarled Black, moving to
grab Julian.
Julian's gray eyes narrowed dangerously. "I told you, Black," he spat, "that it
was untested! I've no idea of the results. I can tell you what I think -- that
is, I believe he very well may be cured, but I can't know for sure. He will
have to wait. You will have to wait!"
Lupin lay a hand on Black's shoulders. "It's fine, Sirius." When he turned to
Julian, there were tears in his eyes. "Thank you," he said, sincerely. "Even if
it's not gone -- there's no comparison. I feel brilliant. I really cannot thank
you enough."
Julian gave him a pointed look. "But you can."
A grave look fell onto his face. "I... know of a way to contact Greyback, yes,
but Mr. Malfoy, Julian, please, you musn't contact him. He is a monster.
There's no other way to describe him," Lupin pleaded.
A deadly look flitted across Julian's face. "You will tell me how to contact
him, Lupin, as per our agreement..." His voice was calm, cold, detached almost.
A moment passed then two. Finally, he nodded. "Very well."
"Great. I shall be in my quarters -- Professor Snape's quarters. I assume you
know where it is." At Lupin's nod, he continued. "I'll be waiting."
Lupin nodded gravely. "If you insist."
"I do," said Julian, firmly, before leaving the two men alone.
Julian entered the room to find Severus sitting on the couch nursing a glass of
firewhiskey.
"Master," said Julian, inclining his head.
Severus whipped his head up at the sound of Julian's voice. Merlin, he looked
like he was three sheets to the wind! His obsidian eyes bore intensely into
Julian's eyes. Julian found he couldn't move, couldn't think, when Severus was
looking at him in that manner. Looking at him as if he would consume him in his
entirety right then and there.
Finally, the spell was broken. Severus let out a whoosh of air. "Foolish,
foolish, beautiful boy. Why must you tempt me so? Always. Do you know what you
do to me?" And Severus was off of the couch and across the room before Julian
scarcely had a chance to take a breath. His fingers ghosted across Julian's
face and stroked over Julian's full lower lip causing Julian to sigh and his
eyes to flutter close for a moment. When he opened them again, Severus's eyes
had darkened further. "Want you so badly, have wanted you for so long, it
seems," murmured the man desperately if not a bit despondently.
Julian shuddered as Severus's lips descended to meet not his lips but the
exposed portion of his throat. "Severus," said Julian. It was supposed to be an
exclamation, but it sounded more like a needy moan. Julian wanted this, Merlin
knows he did, but it was quite obvious that Severus was not in his right mind.
However, Severus was not at all deterred. He backed Julian up to a wall and
deftly pinned both of Julian's hands over head with one of his hands. The other
hand flew down the intricate buttons on Julian's outer robe, ripping them apart
instead of taking the time to unbutton them.
He hissed angrily when the robe fell open and exposed the Slytherin locket that
was Julian's lot to bear. "Mine," Severus snarled. "I'll not let him touch you!
Never!" He pressed his lips against Julian's with a force near violence. Julian
felt a surge of need course through him. He gasped and Severus took that as an
invitation to deepen the kiss. His hand dropped down to rest on Julian's hip
and when Julian moaned into Severus's mouth, Severus pulled Julian's hips
sharply to meet his.
Julian moaned, or perhaps it was Severus at the contact. Julian couldn't be
sure, really. He could only be sure of what happened next. He hadn't even
realized they were moving until Severus reached behind Julian and opened a
door, only removing his lips from Julian's when Julian was nearly dizzy from
lack of air. Julian thought, almost comically, that he'd never seen Severus's
actual bedroom before. It was quite nice. Light and airy -- as light and airy
as a room in the dungeons could be -- and the soft bedding -- silk, or so he
thought, he couldn't be sure -- that Severus pushed him down on was a deep
crimson color. Severus ridded himself and then Julian of all remaining
clothing, stopping only when both were bare, his dark eyes roaming hungrily
over Julian's body.
Julian, for his part, was lost. He could not stop, could not bear to stop, not
when what he'd wanted for so long was upon him. He thought absently that they
must make quite a pair, he fair and Severus dark, but soon he could not think
at all because Severus's hand was descending down his body, circling a part of
him no one had ever touched -- even Blaise.
Once more, his deep black eyes stared at him intensely. "Do you want this?" he
murmured.
Julian nodded as he worried his bottom lip.
Severus quirked an ebony brow. "Verbalize it. I'll do no more if you do not,"
said the Potions Master, his finger continually circling Julian's opening.
Julian let out a shuddering breath at the movement. "Yes, Merlin, yes. Please,
Severus!"
It was the last coherent words either man spoke. From then on, the only sounds
that could be heard were sighs and answering moans of pleasure. There was pain,
yes, but Julian had expected that. What he had not expected was the absolute
need for Severus that grew until it reached a fever pitch -- until he could do
no more than react, until he felt as if he could do nothing but feel, until
everything but Severus and here and now and yes, yes, yes meant nothing.
And when it was over, and Severus snored softly beside him, he ignored the tiny
niggling in his head and the ache in his heart that told him this had been a
mistake -- a wonderful mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. Or so Severus would
think. Julian sighed. He decided -- for now -- that there was nothing to be
done, so he allowed sleep to claim him, hoping that he was wrong but knowing
that he was not.
--
When Severus awoke the next morning, his head was throbbing angrily. Merlin, he
thought, he had consumed far too much alcohol the night before. He put a hand
to his throbbing head and went to get out of bed. Only to discover he was not
alone in his bed. Indeed, he was very much not alone. There, curled up beside
him with Severus's silk sheets draped haphazardly across his lower body, was
Julian.
Severus closed his eyes in remorse as he took in the state Julian was in.
Bruises could be seen marring one exposed hipbone and no doubt the other held a
similar bruise, his neck was riddled in angry looking love bites, as were his
shoulder. The boy had been thoroughly ravished, and there was no question who
had done it. He had done this. When he closed his eyes, flashes from the
previous night shone behind them. He gasped and at the noise, Julian sighed
deeply and flipped over onto his stomach, showing Severus his slightly muscled
back and the raise of his buttocks beneath the sheet. The crimson looked like
blood against Julian's pale creamy skin.
Severus resisted the urge -- only barely -- to stroke that soft skin. Before he
could contemplate the situation he found himself in further, there was a
banging at his door. His eyes widened and he quickly removed himself from his
bed, pulling on an outer robe as he hurried to the front of his quarters and
threw open the door. It was Draco, looking more than a bit frantic.
"Draco?" he asked, softly. "Whatever is the matter?"
"It's Blaise. He never came back to the dorm last night."
"And?" queried Severus. It was not commonly done, of course, but every so often
one of his Slytherins would spend the night out of the Slytherin dorms. Had
Severus been thinking properly, he would have known immediately this wasn't a
problem as the boy Zabini frequently shared a bed with was in his bed.
"So," snarled Draco. "Look, I know where he and Julian go to... be alone," he
spat the words. "So I went there this morning, and look what I found." He
pushed a blood-stained piece of cloth into Severus's face. It was a piece of a
tie -- a silver and green tie.
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