Some Things Never Change

Ch. 04: The Letter

As the door to the Potions class was slammed open, Lucas' eyes went immediately to the person standing on the threshold. After a moment recognized the person standing there and his eyes widened in disbelief as he let out an audible gasp.

Draco Malfoy entered the room slowly and crossed to the desk, wordlessly beginning to rifle through the drawers as all of the eyes in the room looked on, following his every move.

Lucas had seen his father before when he had first woken in the morning, but never had Draco looked this haggard and unkempt. His chin-length blonde hair, which was usually slicked back, not a strand out of place, was now sticking up at odd angles, looking as though it had not been touched for days. His eyes, normally silver and sharp, were a melancholy grey and had deep circles beneath them, making him look years older than he was. It was a well-known fact among all of Draco's students how fastidious he was about his appearance, so even the Gryffindors were slightly uneasy about this new development.

Once Draco had found the sheet of parchment he'd been searching for, he flicked his wand at the blackboard, and a list of ingredients appeared there. "Can anyone tell me what potion we'll be working with today?" he asked offhandedly, not noticing or perhaps ignoring the shocked looks of everyone in the room. "Does no one know?" he asked, tone turning irritable. "The combination of these ingredients can make only one potion."

Rienne raised a slightly trembling hand. "Veritaserum," she replied softly. "But I don't think I'm the only person wondering if there isn't something wrong."

At first Draco looked a little puzzled, then must have realized the state he was in. "Oh, no. Nothing's wrong," he said with a laugh very few could tell was forced. "I just woke extremely late this morning," he explained easily. Then he began describing the delicate process that was brewing Veritaserum before any more questions could be asked, much to the suspicion of many of the students more familiar with their professor.

They spent the whole of the class taking notes on Veritaserum, and many of the students were dismayed to learn that the process would take nearly a month to complete. As such, the entire project would be worth a third of the final grade, which made even the most confident at least a little nervous.

"You go on to lunch," Lucas muttered to Rienne as they were released. "I want to talk to my father in private."

There were questions in her eyes, but Rienne didn't ask them. "Alright dear," she said quietly, lifting her bag to her shoulder. Then she skipped to the door, calling out, "Shaunessey! Shaunessey MacNair! Wait for me!"

Lucas approached his father slowly, like one might advance on a wounded predator. "Father?" he asked softly.

Draco looked up from his desk, carefully placing a stack of parchment in a drawer. "Yes, Lucas?" he replied wearily, but wearing a smile to let the boy know the tone wasn't related to him.

Lucas shifted, looking thoughtful. "Even the Gryffindors could tell there is something off with you," he began, keeping his voice respectful. "I'd like to think, knowing you better than most, that you might tell me what's wrong."

Draco sighed and steepled his fingers in contemplation. "There's nothing wrong," he said resolutely, leveling eyes with his son. "I just received some bad news yesterday evening and was up all night. And before you ask, I'd inform you that I'll not be telling you what I found out or from whom," he added quickly with a knowing smirk.

"It was Harry, wasn't it?" Lucas asked quietly.

Draco let an eyebrow arch in shock, "Clever boy," he murmured, tone amused. "And how would you know that Potter was here last night?"

"I ran into him on my way to the common room," Lucas replied. "He said he had to speak with you and Mother and wouldn't tell me what about."

"Your deductive skills are remarkable, Lucas, but he only spoke with me, so I would prefer if you told no one he was here, especially not your mother; it would only worry her," Draco remarked quickly, several worry lines blooming on his forehead. When Lucas didn't immediately respond, Draco edged forward in his seat. "You haven't already told anyone, have you?" he asked haltingly.

"Rienne found me just after Harry left me. I told her he went to talk to you," Lucas replied, lowering his eyes apologetically.

Draco cursed under his breath, before refocusing on his son. "You will impress upon your girlfriend the proper discretion," he said, tone low and serious.

"That might be easier if I knew why," Lucas said, sounding frustrated.

Draco's eyes flashed angrily. "Lucas Michael Malfoy, this situation is none of your concern, but since you have insisted upon bringing yourself into it, you will do as you are told and ask no questions. Do I make myself clear?" Draco winced at his own tone, but otherwise did not lose his demeanor. He had sounded far more like his father than he would have liked.

Lucas nodded curtly, his whole body gone stiff with frustrated anger. "Very well, Father," he answered, successfully keeping his tone respectful despite his temper. "May I go? I'm running late for lunch."

"Yes, go ahead," Draco replied, his countenance softening slightly. "I'd tell you if it weren't so important," he muttered apologetically.

'It's alright, Father,' Lucas thought bitterly as he left. 'I'm sure it's only for my own good.'

He hurried back to the common room and into his dormitory to retrieve the books for his afternoon classes, then rushed back towards the Great Hall. Lucas had just emerged from the dungeons into the entrance hall when a medium-sized bird swooped down from one of the large windows and landed heavily on his shoulder, nearly knocking the boy over with its weight and making him jump in shock.

The peregrine falcon dug inch-long talons into Lucas' shoulder sharply, perforating his robes and sinking into sensitive flesh. Lucas winced with a shallow gasp. The raptor stared at the boy through cold, sharp eyes and offered one leg, sinking the claws of the other deeper in order to maintain its balance.

Lucas carefully removed the scroll of parchment from the proffered leg and was gratified when the falcon released his shoulder and took flight, perching on one of the high windowsills and watching carefully as the boy opened the letter and read.

Dear Lucas,

We have never met, but I know a great deal about you, the least of which being the complete history of your lineage. I offer your snake-eye amulet as proof. I have something I would like to discuss with you. Your parents are hiding secrets from you; secrets I can tell you. If you would like to meet with me, send a reply with Nemesis, my falcon. I will not reveal my identity until our meeting, should you choose to come, for my own protection. You see, there are many who would like to keep me from telling you the truth, so discretion is key. I would require the date of your first Hogsmeade weekend if you should like to speak with me. I'll send you further details if you choose to meet with me.

Lucas stared curiously at the thick black script. He didn't recognize the flowing handwriting but aspects of it seemed vaguely familiar. He sat on one cold marble stair and began rummaging in his bag for a quill, ink, and a scrap of parchment. He quickly scrawled down the date 'October 16' and replaced his writing tools and the mysterious letter in his knapsack.

As if sensing that Lucas was replying, the falcon soared down and landed on the boy, which elicited a pained hiss from him as talons dug into his fresh wounds. The boy quickly attached the new message to the bird's leg, hoping it would take leave quickly. It did, beating its powerful wings around Lucas' head as it took to the air and flew out the window, heading east.

Lucas sighed with relief as it left; he had found the animal's intensity disconcerting. He winced at the pain in his shoulder and glanced at it, surprised at the large tears in his robes and the many puncture wounds in his pale flesh, all seeping blood that had nearly soaked the clothing covering them.

"Maybe I ought to see Madam Pomfrey," he muttered to himself, turning and slowly heading up the marble staircase towards the Hospital Wing.

~~~***~~~

Lucas was naked to the waist, wincing periodically as Madam Pomfrey applied a thick salve to the sixteen neat punctures in his shoulder; four in the thick muscle of his back and twelve in the sensitive flesh of his collarbone.

"Where did you get these?" the Mediwitch asked sharply, prodding at one of the gashes, one that had come very close to severing the boy's carotid artery.

Lucas gasped in pain. "Over-excited post owl," he replied quickly, keeping his face as straight as he could, despite Madam Pomfrey's examination. Peregrine falcons were not usually used to deliver mail, and he didn't want Pomfrey to get suspicious, though from her expression, she already was.

Poppy Pomfrey's sharp eyes narrowed critically as she scrutinized the boy's wounds. She had already decided from the spacing and depth of the punctures that it could not have been an owl, but if Lucas wasn't going to tell her the truth, there was nothing she could do about that. She covered the salve with a few layers of white gauze and flicked her wand at the bundle of blood-soaked robes and school uniform, removing the rust-coloured stains and mending the holes. "Considering the nature of your injuries, it is not necessary for me to inform your parents," Pomfrey told Lucas with a frown on her face. "You are free to go. There are still fifteen minutes left to lunch; I suggest you get something to eat."

Lucas nodded and gingerly redressed himself, trying not to move his injured shoulder as he did so. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," he said, affecting his most charming smile. Despite her suspicions, the Mediwitch couldn't help but smile back. Then Lucas hurried from the Hospital Wing, still buttoning as he rushed down the stairs.

"Where have you been, and who were you with?" asked a sharp voice from the bottom of the stairs. Rienne had taking one look at Lucas' flushed cheeks and haphazard appearance and had jumped to the first conclusion that had popped into her head.

Lucas' eyes widened in shock at the accusation in her voice. Rienne hardly ever got really angry, but when she did it was wise to proceed with caution. "I was in the Hospital Wing with Madam Pomfrey," he answered carefully, gauging Rienne's reaction. She simply crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable as she waited for the rest of Lucas' explanation. He descended the rest of the stairs slowly, coming to a rest a few feet in front of his girlfriend, but still far enough away that she'd have to move closer in order to hit him. Without a word, he unfastened the top few buttons of his robes and the dress shirt beneath, delicately sliding them both off his shoulder to expose white bandages.

Rienne closed the distance between them in seconds, pressing her lips to the gauze, one hand massaging the back of his neck gently. "What happened?" she asked softly, voice free of accusation and instead full of concern.

Lucas sighed in relief, letting his eyes drift shut at Rienne's touches. "Over-excited post owl," he replied, not exactly sure why he was lying to Rienne. "Apparently I've got sixteen puncture wounds under there."

"That's so odd," Rienne muttered thoughtfully. "I've never known an owl to do such damage. Who was the letter from?"

"My maternal grandparents," Lucas replied quickly, with the first response he could think of. "The owl just wasn't familiar with me, I think." Lucas still wasn't sure why he was lying to Rienne, but the secretive way the letter had been written gave him pause when he considered telling anyone about it.

Rienne didn't question the validity of Lucas' lie in the least, instead asking, "What did they want?"

Lucas' eyes darted around wildly as he cast about for a suitable answer, but luckily Rienne didn't see this. "They just want me to write more; keep them updated on things. Nothing major. You think there's time for me to grab a bite before we go visit Grandmother Cissa?" Lucas asked, seamlessly changing the subject.

Rienne had begun adjusting Lucas' clothing, fastening the buttons of his shirt and robes, and didn't look up from her task as she answered. "Sure, there's time, but why bother? Cissa will probably have all sorts of things to eat with tea. She usually does..."

Lucas laughed. "True enough. It's probably better I haven't eaten, actually." He lowered himself to sit on one of the stairs, careful not to move his torso as he did so. "We might as well wait here, then. The triplets will be out in a bit, I'm sure."

Rienne sat beside him, curling a few fingers absentmindedly in the hair at the nape of Lucas' neck. "So what did your father tell you?" she asked curiously.

Lucas growled slightly at the thought of that conversation. "Nothing concrete, though I was able to work out that it was something Harry said that had him so upset. I'm not to tell anyone he was here last night, especially my mother, and you're to do the same."

Rienne looked shocked. "You mean our fathers are cooperatively keeping secrets? Those two can't even agree to disagree!" she said with a giggle.

"I think you're missing the point," Lucas said stiffly. "Whatever they're hiding from me, they are also hiding from my mother. Her husband and one of her best friends. Think about that. What could they be hiding? What's so damn important?" He let out a frustrated growl.

"I'd like to know that as well," came a voice from the entrance to the Great Hall. "What is so damn important?"

"It is very important that you don't ask any more questions, Britton Malfoy," Lucas retorted, turning to face his three siblings, who had just exited the Great Hall and were crossing towards them.

Rienne stood and then turned to help Lucas to his feet. "I trust you are all ready to go see Cissa and the demon spawn?" she asked, not-so-subtly changing the subject.

"What happened, Lucas?" Flynn interjected, crossing towards the staircase. "Why'd you have to help him up, Rienne?" she asked with an almost accusatory tone.

"A post owl dug its claws a bit deep when it landed on my shoulder, Flynn," Lucas answered, putting his arm around his younger sister's shoulders and steering her towards the dungeons, Rienne, Britton, and Connor flanking them.

"You got attacked by an owl?" Britton laughed in disbelief. He poked Connor. "Why didn't you tell me you were staging something?"

"It wasn't me," Connor objected. "I've been with you all day, git. When did I have time to go off and attack Lucas?"

Lucas chuckled. "It was hardly an attack. Brilliant job blowing things out of proportion, though. Well done." He turned and knocked on a patch of wall that was, in fact, a well-disguised door.

They heard the pounding of footsteps and stood back as the door swung open to reveal a small boy with shocking blue eyes and jet hair that was tied back in a ponytail halfway down his back. The boy had Snape's sharp features, but Narcissa's creamy complexion. If it was possible, his eyes seemed to light up more when he saw who was at the door. "Lucas!" he squealed, leaping into the older boy's arms.

Lucas stumbled backwards a few steps with the force of the attack and chuckled, easily lifting the younger boy into his arms and carrying him back into the room. "And hello to you too, Deimos," he laughed. "Not giving your mother too much trouble, I hope?"

Deimos shook his head rapidly, a wide grin n his face. Then he squirmed out of Lucas' arms to the floor and began tugging on his arm. "Come on, Lucas! Look at what I can do!"

"Hold up a minute, Tiger," Lucas told the boy, gazing around the room. "Where's your mum? We came to see her too, you know."

"I'm in here, darling," called a soft and melodious voice from the kitchen. "I'll be out just as soon as I put on a pot of water. Make yourselves comfortable."

Lucas gently pulled his hand away from Deimos as the boy began tugging on it again. "Don't worry, we'll come see in just a bit. We won't forget."

The five blondes all crossed into the living area and tried to find enough seating room to accommodate them all. Flynn perched in an armchair, while Britton and Connor took the small couch. Lucas and Rienne sat on the floor with Deimos, leaving the other wingback for Narcissa.

Deimos had apparently grown impatient with waiting, and had disappeared into his bedroom, reappearing moments later carrying a small bronze cauldron. It was full of an extremely viscous orange slime that bubbled violently despite its lack of a heating source. As the five of them watched, Deimos poured in a small phial of purple powder, which resulted in the formation of a midnight blue cloud rising from the cauldron. They all clapped, causing the dark-haired boy to giggle and blush.

Just as Narcissa entered the room carrying a large tray laden with tea and chocolate cake, the door swung wide, revealing Professor Snape.

"Rienne, Lucas, you'd better come with me."

~~~***~~~

A/N: So ends chapter the fourth...with another cliffie. Dum dum dum... Deimos is a doll, and I'll not have you say otherwise. *Cuddles him* Considering Severus and Narcissa both have Greek (or Greek-sounding) names, I thought it only fitting their children should have Greek names as well. Hence Ophelia and Deimos. Ophelia means "Serpent" and Deimos means "Terror".