Snape the Younger

Passing on the Trust

An Old Man's Musing

Abraxas sat in the padded wing chair and stared down into the hereditary Malfoy cradle, drinking in the sight of the next generation. He was tiny, a pale porcelain doll with only the faintest vestiges of the shock of black hair that had first covered his head. The old man sniggered in remembered amusement at the pandemonium that had caused. Lucius had been furious, Narcissa utterly mortified when he accused her of dallying with Severus Snape. 'Dallying', the new grandfather had roared in laughter when his son had pulled that word out of his vocabulary in his fury. 'Dallying', it was such an old-fashioned word for such a commonplace accusation. Still, it had taken both the medi-wizards and Abraxas own corroboration to assure Lucius that babies born with black hair usually went blond within a few weeks.

And so it proved as the black mop fell out, the new hair came in as fine as silk and white blond, even fairer than Lucius' or Narcissa's. Abraxas leaned forward and ran his hand gently over the pale fuzz, making the child wriggle and suck furiously at the fist jammed in his mouth. The poor child probably had more surreptitious paternity charms cast over him than any other child before or since. Even that atrocious Goyle woman had made an attempt and Abraxas almost laughed aloud when he remembered the shock on her face as Narcissa turned her into a cockroach in her fury. Fortunately for all, Severus had caught the incensed mother before she stepped on the roach so that had not ended as badly as it could have.

The Dark Lord had come to see the baby too, staring into the cradle with a faintly pained look before raising his eyes to stare at Severus who was on the other side of the carved baby bed. Abraxas knew something passed between the two powerful wizards at that point but what he was not a party to. Later that evening, there had been intense voices in the library, then a flash of curse light, the thump of a body falling followed by the crack of an uncontrolled disapparition. Lucius and he had burst into the library to find Severus still writhing in the after-affects of the Cruciatus Curse, a copy of the Daily Prophet tossed on his prone body, with two obituaries circled.

In loving memory of Galius Morton Temple,

Born 5^th June, 1980 died 12^th June, 1980.

May flights of Angels take thee to thy rest.

The second obituary was for Galinda Maria Temple, single mother of the predeceased son who died by her own hand on the 12^th of June. Lucius had been puzzled but Abraxas caught the significance immediately and stared at the young man in growing alarm. Severus merely stared back and slowly, stiffly rose to his feet.

"Some things are worth it," he muttered as he made his way painfully from the room.

Making Severus Snape Godfather to the child might not have been the most popular decision in the world but there would be no better guardian for the new Malfoy than the total, cunning, calculating and indeed ruthless loyalty of the Snape. He knew what a Pureblood owed to his family and his Family, what the responsibility of being a Godfather really meant, not like some of these half bloods and Mudbloods who were trying to ape their betters. When you knew a wizard's parentage, you knew that he knew what was expected of him in certain circumstances and you could rely on that knowledge to guide his actions in all things. There was no uncertainty, no wondering if you had done the right or wrong thing.

Something else that had begun to worry the more highly placed Death Eaters was their Lord's growing obsession with his family and his claims to be the heir of Slytherin. The Lord had been collecting what he called heirlooms, anything he could get his hands on in connection to the Gaunt family and indeed, those rare objects that had come down from the four founders of Hogwarts of all places. Now, everyone in the wizarding world knew that the two most powerful centres of magic in the British Isles were Hogwarts and Diagon Alley and that the two most pure centres of magic were Glastonbury and Stonehenge. There had been some speculation that these four places were the actual burial sites of the four founders of Hogwarts but that had been pretty much disproved last century. Muggles seemed to feel that Canterbury hill was the last resting place of Merlin but that was not so either. Still, Lord Voldemort seemed to have picked up some bee in his bonnet and it was so peculiar that it worried some of his older followers.

There had been some hints that the Dark Lord was dabbling in Daemonic Rites and the truly black Black Magic. The rumours had become even more pronounced after the Lord had raised an Elemental during one meeting, using the living heart of a child to bring the creature up from the earth. When Abraxas demanded an answer from Severus, not having been at the meeting personally, the boy had indeed confirmed that the Lord was playing with the very forces of nature, raising things that were best left well alone. He had offered a soul for a portion of wild magic then, according to Snape, had almost failed to send the Elemental back where it came from.

There were a number of schools of thought on what was termed 'Black' magic and 'White' magic. Some said that black magic was not really bad or evil; it was just the antithesis of life as humanity knew it. And that white magic was completely sympathetic to humanity and human life. Whatever the truth, Abraxas knew without a shadow of a doubt that anyone practising black magic was going to end up completely corrupted by it. In fact, the only one he had met that had not succumbed to the intoxicating power black magic loaned its practitioners, was Severus Snape. A bloody enigma on legs that man, a truly self-centred man, so centred within himself that he was, well, grey.

Jumping awake, Abraxas laughed at himself, his dosing thoughts leading him to some strange paths. He glanced down at the letter he was supposed to be spending this quiet time writing and re-dipped the quill as the ink had dried on the nib. Glancing again at the baby sleeping in his crib, Abraxas tried to imagine what he was to say to the boy when he became a man. What would he become, how would he react, what advice could a man long dead give to a young man who was on the brink of adulthood, a new generation, brought up between Lucius, Narcissa and Severus. What a hell of a combination he would be.

Working diligently, Abraxas finished the letter, sanded and sealed it with the Malfoy seal, then tapped the creamy parchment thoughtfully against his teeth. There were some things in the letter that seemed somewhat blasphemous in the current climate, things that would rebound on Lucius if it fell into the wrong hands. Still, these were his own thoughts, given freely to the grandson he would never know but hoped would be a better man than either he or his own son. That was always the hope of any parent, that the next generation would be better than the last. A sudden flash of inspiration hit him and he called aloud. There was a pop of house-elf and one of the skinny creatures appeared before him.

"Ah, Dobby, I have a trust for you, one that you must carry out no matter what conflict it causes and above all other considerations. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master, Dobby is always proud to serve Malfoy."

"No, Dobby, this is not a task that serves Malfoy, it is a trust for the child, young Master Draco, only. You cannot give this to anyone but Master Draco when he comes of ... no, not when he comes of age, he will have too much advice and too little sense, I think. Humm, let me see, two days after his wedding, you are to give this to Master Draco, do you understand? If you grow too old to accomplish this trust, you must choose another who will be capable of following my instructions. This is the most important task you will ever have, to make sure Master Draco gets this letter above and beyond any other task you may be given in the future. Do you understand?"

The elf looked confused for a few moments, struggling between this new order and the ingrained loyalty that put the whole Malfoy Family first, then he nodded vigorously. "Dobby understands, this is the most important thing in Dobby's life and always will be. Dobby must do everything he can to make sure Master Draco gets this letter, anything at all!"

"That's the idea, Dobby; now off you go, and remember, two days after his wedding, give it to Master Draco."

Pleased with himself, Abraxas settled back into the chair for a little nap.

~~*~~

The Truth

Lucius watched his father from the corner of his eyes, trying not to be caught watching him. The old man ate slowly, raising each mouthful with careful attention to the details of lifting. Lucius could not decide if he was afraid of spilling the forkful onto his robes or if the loaded fork was too heavy for his wasted muscles to lift successfully. At his left shoulder, the enigmatic Mr. Truman stood ready to assist if the Lord faltered in any way. It was odd how closely the Muggle-born watched his father, a little too closely Lucius decided after watching the man stare at his father intently over a full week of meals.

Toward the end of the elaborate Sunday dinner the kitchens had prepared, Lucius cast a surreptitious spell which caused the medi-wizard to jump startled. Lord Abraxas' fork clattered to the table, slamming his hand down onto the cloth as if it weighed a ton. Narcissa jumped at the clatter, a squeak breaking out. Severus' eyes flew to the male nurse then narrowed thoughtfully before he cut his eyes to Lucius who was almost frozen on the spot. His small spell had much more affect than he had expected.

Abraxas did not move even as the medi-wizard fussed and apologised, a muttered spell cleaning up the mess and a fresh linen napkin unfolding itself over his lap. He continued to stare at his son accusingly until Lucius had the grace to blush faintly and keep his eyes downcast onto his place. Narcissa did a magnificent job of ignoring the undercurrents as usual, continuing to chatter and orchestrate the meal like the perfect hostess she was. Slowly the tension dissipated but never entirely left the room all through the remainder of the uncomfortable meal.

Later, Lucius cornered Severus outside the library and demanded an explanation of what the hell that Mudblood was doing to his father?

"You are a fool, Lucius. Mr. Truman is the only thing that stands between your father and total helplessness. He bends all his magic to making sure your father has at least the illusion of independence. Would you prefer he kept his magic to himself and only used his manual skills to spoon-feed your father while he lay in bed unable to rise or walk or do anything for himself? At least this way, your father can join us at dinner and preserve the illusion while Mr. Truman supplies the magical muscle to allow him to lift his fork," Severus hissed furiously, shaking off the other's slackening grip.

"But... your potions, surely...."

"Can do no more, Lucius, the man is dying! He has lasted longer than any other recorded sufferer of Perryander's and had been able to function rationally longer too. Unfortunately, the balance between the poisons and the helpful components of my potions are strained and I cannot make them any stronger or it would kill him immediately. With Mr. Truman lending his magic to compensate for the drain and me feeding him fortifying potions as if he had cornered the market on them, it has spun out his lucid stage for much longer than we expected. Still, all good things come to an end and unfortunately, Abraxas' end is fast approaching."

"How long?"

"We expect a couple of months at the very best."

"Humm, tell me, Severo, if Mr. Truman was not in attendance, how would my father really be?" Lucius asked, staring at the oak door that stood between his father and the hallway.

"Helpless. As I told you, Mr. Truman loans you father the magic to move his body, the ability to reason and think without the disease clouding his mind and fogging his brain. Without Mr. Truman and his input, your father would be a vegetable trapped in a helpless, immovable body, just like your typical Perryander's sufferer."

"So, Truman attends all my father's business meetings and stands there listening to my father's business and our Family Business, even though he is not really part of the Family or even sworn to the Family or anything?" Lucius was scandalised!

Severus thought about it then frowned a little. "Yes, although his medical oath binds him to his patient."

Lucius shook his head but his expression did not bode well for the hapless Mr. Truman.

~~*~~

Plans and Schemes

"Lucius, you cannot put off this meeting for ever. You must go to Paris and see the European board or they are going to take distinct advantage of us," Abraxas argued heavily at the breakfast table barely a week later. "It is a good time to introduce Draco to the French holdings and make them acquainted with his magical signature, now isn't it? You know it has to be done soon or he will not be recognised properly. Besides, I am very sure Narcissa would love to see the new season's fashions first hand." He cast a sly glance at where his daughter-in-law was leaning forward eagerly, hoping her husband would heed his father.

"But what about you, Father? What if...."

"What if I drop down dead while you aren't watching over me?" Abraxas teased gently, a fond smile for his son. "Lucius, I am going to die whether you are here or not and I would like to think that you could put Family before family as is your duty as Heir and will be your duty as Head of Family."

"I.... Yes, Father, I suppose I should go and take the family with me as is my duty to the Family," Lucius conceded with a faint smile that broadened as his father returned it with fond approval.

The flurry of departure was short and intense as Narcissa tried to pack for her new baby, interfering with the nursemaid who was an experienced witch from the local village. Narcissa had wanted to employ a professional but Lucius had insisted on a local girl. While not particularly happy with her, Narcissa had been obliged to accept her husband's dictates for the moment. Lucius wisely stayed out of the skirmishes, putting his own affairs in order and gathering up the various parchments he would need upon the Continent with his usual efficiency. They were ready for departure by the end of the week and left in a flurry of robes, good wishes and admonitions to firecall if Abraxas' condition changed in any way. Severus agreed and Abraxas waved, then both men collapsed into opposite chairs in the suddenly silent house.

"Well, that was interesting," Abraxas finally commented, rolling his head to glance at the young man sprawled out in the opposite chair.

Severus smirked and nodded before rising to help his friend up to his feet. "I think you should rest now, at least for an hour. No matter how you feel, you are not exactly well enough to sustain that level of activity for any length of time."

Abraxas huffed but allowed Severus to help him up, leaning heavily on the thin man's arm. "I have my solicitor coming to see me tomorrow and I want you to be in on the meeting, Severus. It is very important that I take care of this matter as soon as possible and I'm afraid I am going to have to rely on you to carry out my wishes. Will you help me, my boy?"

"Of course," Severus agreed immediately then paused, "If it won't hurt anyone."

Abraxas laughed and patted his arm with a thin, claw-like hand. "Too late, I'll take your first answer as gospel," he said cheerfully as he allowed his friend to lead him back to his own 'nursemaid'.

~~*~~

Mr. Monalias Trelawney had been Abraxas' personal Attorney since they had both been very young men. While Abraxas had travelled, Lias had studied yet they had remained friends even though their life paths had diverged dramatically. It had been Abraxas' influence that had gained Lias his initial interview with the Malfoy's law firm, but Monalias' own exceptional ability and very high scores that had secured his position. When Abraxas needed a private solicitor away from the Family Firm, Lias was the man for the job. He arrived at the appointed time with his entourage in tow, a para legal witch by the name of Rosalie Pringle who seemed to be a walking encyclopaedia of wizarding law trivia. She eyed Severus up and down as if inventorying him for the kill, a very predatory light in her eye that made the younger man bridle uncomfortably.

Monalias' second assistant, Jacob Torrento, was extremely handsome but seemed to be nothing more than a glorified packhorse for the numerous books and scrolls the solicitor had brought with him. Severus immediately summoned a desk for his armload of library supplies and did his best to ignore the amusement Abraxas was obviously feeling. Abraxas and Lias shared a moment of knowing amusement as the three young people manoeuvred around them in a very old and very commonplace dance.

"How have you been, my friend?" Monalias asked, settling into a chair and accepting a drink from the house-elf who appeared at his elbow.

"Well, you know how it is, good one day, poorly the next. Severus has done everything he can but there are limits. I'm dying, nothing changes that fact, but one thing needs to be taken care of the instant I do die, or rather one person. Mr. Truman - my nurse - needs to be removed from the country as speedily as possible without alerting my son to his going. Sadly, Truman knows too much of the Family business for Lucius' comfort and I'm afraid he might try to silence the nurse with more than a mere obliviate, if you see what I mean. Truman has only his mother who is a Muggle and his sister who is a Squibb so it shouldn't be too difficult to resettle them in a safe place. Severus and I have talked about it and feel the man should be relocated to North Africa where Severus' supervisor has a clinic for Perryander sufferers. After all, the man knows more about the disease than most, and how to care for a sufferer."

Trelawney stared into space for a few moments then sighed. "Have to have a Fidelius Charm on him and his family but who would be the secrets keeper?"

"Whomever you appoint, I should think," Abraxas said playfully.

Rosalie Pringle stopped following Snape with her eyes and snapped to the business at hand. "There are a couple of precedents for using the Fidelius on non-wizarding folk. Letitia Montoya cast the charm over a whole colony of Skelkies in the Outer Hebrides in the eighteen hundreds to preserve them from poachers coming down from the Scandinavian countries to hunt. Rhodin Tonbridge was also rumoured to cast a variant of the charm over a Scottish village that displeased him to make it disappear and reappear at odd intervals, but that is merely a rumour. It is also rumoured that some American Wizard tried a variant on what he called 'safe houses' to preserve Muggle witnesses to various crimes." She sat back smugly and smirked at Torrento who was still leafing through one of the tomes he had been charged to carry.

"Thank you, Rosalie, most useful," Lias said in tolerant tones, rolling his eyes at his friend out of sight of the children. "It will be rather expensive and may not entirely work, you realise?"

"No matter, we must do something for the fellow, he has been... invaluable to me. I have set aside a sum of money for him; I think 200,000 galleons should be enough to keep him comfortable for the next few years. And I think his secrets keeper should be one of your firm's employees. You do have a bank of secrets keepers and Unspeakables, don't you?"

"We do," Lias confirmed, making a very small gesture in the direction of Torrento.

Abraxas nodded understanding. "So, when I die, Severus will alert you and you will whisk the Trumans off immediately out of harm's way, agreed? Wonderful, then write it up and let's get it over with, I do tire easily and I really want to have a nice quiet visit with you, Lias, you haven't come to visit for months and I feel the need of a gossip infusion!"

As soon as the paperwork was drawn up, the three younger people were dismissed; the library door shut and the two older men did not emerge for hours, only house-elves popping in and out to deliver food and drink.

~~*~~

Quarantine

"Lord Snape," the head in the fire called urgently, rousing Severus from his dose over his textbooks.

"Yes, what is it?" he demanded indignantly, glaring at the stranger whom he did not recognise.

"My Lord, I have to ask you about the visitors you had to Malfoy Manor two days ago. Can you confirm that Monalias Trelawney, Rosalie Pringle and Jacob Torrento indeed visited the Manor two days ago?"

"Why?"

The man in the medi-wizard's robes sighed and glared at the sleepy eyed youth before him. "My Lord, there has been an outbreak of Dragon Pox and all three of the aforementioned people have been infected or were in contact with someone infected. Since the incubation period is a week and the victim is most infectious in the three days preceding the outbreak of the spots, I have to assume that anyone who was in contact with the infected could also be infected...."

"Fuck!"

"Succinct but is it to the point?" the medi-wizard huffed snidely.

"Yes on both accounts, the three were here and we have a sick man who was also in contact with them...."

"Then shall we consider Malfoy Manor in quarantine?"

"Definitely," Severus confirmed bitterly as he cut the connection and hurried along to Abraxas' apartments.

Mr. Truman was only just helping Abraxas off with his outer robes when Severus burst in unannounced. About to blast him for his bad manners, Abraxas stopped and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Have either of you ever had the Dragon Pox?" Severus asked without preamble.

Mr Truman nodded slowly. "When I was five, from a cousin," he amplified.

"Yes, me too," Severus answered with a grim smile. "Abraxas?"

"No, never."

"Damn! That's torn it! It seems your solicitor and his entourage brought more than parchment and advice with them the other day," Severus muttered heavily as Truman eased the old man down into his wing chair. "We are to consider ourselves under quarantine until further notice."

"We had better close the wards then," Abraxas muttered, his mind spinning toward planning for the crisis. "Truman, help me over to the fireplace, Severus, I will need your strength. Where is my seal ring? Ah, thank you, Mr. Truman. Ready, Severus, I will have to draw heavily upon your resources, I'm afraid."

The old man placed the face of his seal against the great Malfoy crest above the fireplace and waited until the soft chime of recognition sounded. Severus felt his magic flow into the old man, felt the ancient and powerful wards around the estate flare to the command of their Master. For a second there was a pause then the sparkling spells snapped up into place, sealing the Malfoy estates off from all the rest of the world until further notice. Before Abraxas was finished, he added a last order to the wards, unusual but not unheard of or unprecedented. They were to obey Severus Snape if he died before the Heir returned to Malfoy land. There was a distinct shudder through the ancient protection but it was impossible not to obey the Lord of Malfoy, no matter how odd the order was.

Abraxas sank back, caught by two strong men who carried him to his bed and laid him down carefully. "We may lose people but better that than spread the pox all through the land as happened in the 1660s," the old man commented before he passed out.

"So how are you at diagnosing and treating the Black Death?" Truman asked expressionlessly as Severus measured out a potion and propped the old man up to drop it under his tongue.

"I'll need to brew a few preventatives and dose everyone on the estate. Thank Gods Abraxas wanted the visit to be secret so not many people came into contact with the party and house-elves are not affected by the disease, nor do they carry it. If we are lucky, the main three suspected carriers are in this room and the rest of the staff will not be affected. Oh damn, Lucius and Narcissa are in Paris and are due home tomorrow. I had better call them."

~~*~~

Lucius was furious when he realised he was locked out of his own home, he was even more furious when Severus refused to ask his father to allow him through the Wards.

"Lucius, you have never had Dragon Pox so you would be most vulnerable to the disease. How would you feel if you caught it and gave it to Draco or Narcissa? How would Malfoy Manor fare if you were to die of the disease, which is a very real possibility," Severus reminded him grimly. "Luc, your father has caught the Dragon Pox, I'm sorry."

Lucius stared at his lover with horrified eyes. "How... how is he? Will he...?"

"It's not good news. I think you will be Head of Family by tomorrow, or the next day," Severus said heavily, causing the blond in the fire to stagger back, breaking the connection.

As always, the Dragon Pox had targeted the weakest member of the group, Abraxas breaking out a fever and the beginnings of the rosy red rash that were the first signs of infection. The old man had laughed rustily when Severus had first detected the disease, shrugging fatalistically. He knew the young man's softly spoken words were a death sentence and had reminded him of his promise to take care of Mr. Truman in the event of his death. Severus had restated his promise even as his old friend had lapsed into unconsciousness, his breathing growing rasping and broken. Mr. Truman had caught Severus' eye and shaken his head, there was nothing left to do except wait for the inevitable.

They waited until Abraxas began to moan and thrash weakly then Severus rose decisively. Glancing over at Mr. Truman, he carefully aimed his wand and spoke a spell that was not an unforgivable but was equally deadly yet a lot kinder. The old man relaxed, his face taking on a gentler, sweeter expression than it had for many a year as the air in his lungs became soothing sleeping gas. A very few seconds and it was over, the Head of the Malfoy Family was dead. Another rare and extremely powerful spell encased the body instantly, making Truman's hair stand on end as Severus Snape froze time around the bed.

"Come, we have but one hour to get you out of here," Severus snapped, tossing floo powder into the fire and calling for Monalias Trelawney. There was a flutter in the flames and the older man appeared looking somewhat haggard.

"Is he...," he began then shook himself into silence.

"Dragon Pox," Severus snapped and thrust the nurse through the flames into the older man's living room. "Take care of this, I can only give you an hour," he reiterated.

Truman turned and thrust out his hand, shaking Severus' firmly. "Thanks and good luck," he said softly before hurrying out after the solicitor.

Truman had known what to expect on the death of his patient, a speedy death himself. The fact that Abraxas had made provision for him was a bonus he had not expected. He was even more surprised when Severus Snape had given him all the scrolls of notes on the potions he had brewed to keep Abraxas functioning over the past few years and asked him to take them with him to his next position, which gave Truman a clue as to where he was being shipped off to.

"Yes, good luck to you too, my friend, you'll need it," Severus muttered as he closed the connection and began to tidy up the room. There wasn't a lot to do, a few bottles to put away, a robe to fold up and lay into a chest, a cushion to replace on the sofa. He hoped Mr. Truman and his family would be safe in Africa, well out of the machinations of pureblood politics as he settled into the bedside chair and waited for the hour to pass.

~~*~~

Long live the 'King'

Abraxas Malfoy was dead! The word went around the wizarding world like a clap of thunder. Lucius Malfoy was Head of Family now, no longer his father's director but the Lord himself. The quarantine on the manor had been lifted as Abraxas was the only person to succumb to the disease and Lucius had flooed in as soon as he was able. He left Narcissa and the baby in Paris, well away from the pox-ridden shores of England until it was safe again. Severus met him in the Great Hall and bowed formally as the new Lord entered his ancestral home for the first time since his elevation, house-elves and servants hurrying to make their bows before their new master. The very house reverberated to the vibrations of the new Master of Malfoy as he entered his domain. The ancient wards and protections recognised their new Master and realigned themselves to serve him.

"Was it bad?" Lucius murmured in Severus' ear as he raised him up and kissed his cheek.

"No. I made sure it was not bad or painful as I promised I would," Severus assured him equally quietly.

"What do you mean?" Lucius asked, a frown pulling down his eyebrows as he stepped back to study the dark young man before him.

"I promised Abraxas that I would ease his passage from the world so that his end would be easy and kind, and I did just that before the tumours could begin to poison his system any worse than they already had. He was just beginning to feel the pain when it was ended and he was at peace."

"You killed him then?" Lucius snapped angrily.

"Yes," Severus replied flatly.

Shaking his head, Lucius walked away from his friend then turned abruptly. "I don't think I want to talk to you just now, Severus, go away."

Snorting in disgust, Severus bowed facetiously. "As the Lord of Malfoy commands, so I obey... as I always have," he snarled and apparated, the wards opening to let him go without hindrance.

Lucius immediately regretted his outburst but it was too late, Severus had gone to ground, probably in his flat in London but there was too much for Lucius to accomplish and he didn't have time to try and apologise just then. He hurried up to his father's apartments where the funeral director was busily preparing the body to lie in state on the bier already in position in the Great Hall. At the side of Abraxas' bed, the Family Funeral regalia sat ready and Lucius took up the curved silver Kris, using the magically sharpened blade to remove a lock of his father's hair which was carefully laid into the pure crystal box waiting for it. An equally pure crystal vial was filled with the sluggish blood Lucius drew from a small cut he made in his father's arm. A piece of flesh carved from the same withered arm was placed in the final crystal vessel. The funeral director quickly slid the robe sleeve down over the gaping wound, binding it tightly before preparing to levitate the body.

Lucius bore the ceremonial tray with the three parts of his father down to the Great Hall, conscious of the body floating behind him. Blocks of marble and onyx were standing near the bier. They were placed ready for Lucius to create the mourning brazier that would burn for a full seven days before Abraxas was cremated and his ashes interred in the family mausoleum. As the funeral director arranged the corpse on the bier, Lucius set down his tray and turned to the stone blocks, selecting the golden streaked marble for the funeral brazier.

The spells he spoke were as old as wizard kind, forming and shaping the marble until it became a dish shaped platter, the Malfoy seal incised into its surface. Pleased with his spell work, Lucius levitated the brazier to the head of the bier and waited while curls of cedar and sandalwood were added to the kindling in the centre of the dish by an assistant Funeral attendant. Very ceremoniously Lucius arranged the flesh in the centre of the pile of wood then cast incendio on the kindling, causing it to blaze brightly, the flames dancing wildly over the surface. A few strands at a time, he fed the long grey hair into the flames, ignoring the acrid smoke as it drifted around his head. Blood and magic would sustain the blaze now, keeping it alight and steady for the next seven days while the Family gathered to pay their respects to the late Lord. Sighing deeply, Lucius turned away and steeled himself to take up the Malfoy Mantle as Lord.

~~*~~

The funeral was a state affair with all the Family in attendance. Severus stood at the fringe of the crowd, sad to see his old friend buried, even sadder to suffer the rift with his lover. Still, he had kept his word to Abraxas, eased his passing, bundled Truman out of the way and there was nothing left for him but to watch over Draco, even if it was to be at a distance. Turning away from the spectacle of the huge marble mausoleum, he bumped into a body standing too close to him for comfort. Glancing up, he raised an eyebrow when he saw it was Lucius impeding his path, his expression tightening.

"Father left a letter for me," Lucius said ruefully. "He said he had asked a very hard thing of you and he was very sure you would have obeyed his wishes, even at a cost to yourself. I... I'm sorry, Severus, I should have realised that you were nothing if not faithful to your word."

"I always keep my promises, Lucius, always," Severus said softly, and it was a warning.

14/08/2006