Part Three

"Are you ever going to forgive me?"

Lucius paused. He'd been on the verge of entering the library to converse with Harry about one of the ritual's ingredients, but his son had got there first. Lucius had a personal stake in this conversation, so he remained quiet.

"Forgive you for what you did and what you said?" Harry was leaning back in the chair nearest the bookshelves when Lucius peered cautiously around the corner, his finger shut in a book. He was looking up at Draco with the slightly impatient expression of someone who always had better things to do. "Maybe. Not right now."

"But you forgave my parents, and they did much worse things!"

"I barely know your mum." Harry gave a shrug that looked impatient, too. "And with your father, it was never personal. He was a Death Eater and he was following Voldemort's orders. He would have done the same thing if Hermione was the one Voldemort targeted, or Ron, or Dean Thomas. He did horrible things, sure, but not because he just hated me for stupid reasons."

Lucius blinked and shifted his weight. It was a kind of calculus he had never considered, but it did make sense of how Harry had been able to forgive him so easily.

"And me?" Draco had two spots of high color on his cheekbones, which Lucius winced at. In his experience, that was never a good sign. On the other hand, Draco was also speaking normally instead of shouting, which Lucius thought was remarkable.

"You never forgave me for not shaking your damn hand." Potter's voice was scathing. "You made fun of Ron the minute you met him. You told me in the robe shop, the first time you saw me, that people with non-magical parents shouldn't be allowed in Hogwarts."

Lucius went ahead and clapped his hand over his face, since no one was around to notice.

"I-I didn't know who you were then!"

"It was still a stupid thing to say," Potter snapped, and continued his recital. "You flew off with Neville's Remembrall in front of a bunch of Gryffindors who you must have known would report you the minute Madam Hooch came back, and when it resulted in me getting on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you acted like it was all some plot I came up with. You called Hermione a Mudblood in front of a group of people. You faked an injury that almost got an innocent being executed, and you dressed up like a Dementor to try and frighten me, and you gloated about the Chamber of Secrets being open, and you were a member of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad."

Lucius kept his hand in place. He hadn't known about half of that. Even Draco's lack of subtlety must have told him that Lucius wouldn't appreciate such brash actions.

I wonder if my son should have been a Gryffindor?

It was such a heretical thought that Lucius nearly missed what Draco said next, his voice subdued. "So you don't want to forgive me because I was stupid?"

"Yeah, that's part of it," Harry said, and his voice had gone indifferent. "The other part is that you hurt my friends and innocent people, and you haven't apologized for that yet. Just what you did to me."

"How can I apologize to your friends when they're not here?"

"Well, apologize when you see them, then." Harry shrugged and shifted, from the sound of paper. Lucius wasn't prepared to take his hand off his face yet. "And keep from hurting innocent people on purpose again."

There was a silence long enough that Lucius thought Draco had left the library through the far door, but then he cleared his throat. "So basically I have to just-keep doing things? Or not doing them?"

"Yeah." Harry's voice softened. Maybe he'd seen Draco's expression. "That's the way it is. No instant solution. Just like I wouldn't have accepted anything from Mr. Malfoy if he just taught me one spell. He's taught me for weeks now, and he's refrained from insulting Ron and Hermione and the Weasleys. He can't fake that level of good behavior."

I probably could, Lucius decided. But he wouldn't, and he thought Harry would probably have known if he had.

"Keeping it up forever sounds hard," Draco muttered.

"It is. But on the other hand, then you'll have my forgiveness that you want so badly. Won't that be nice?"

Draco sounded as if he was choking. "You don't have to make fun of me, Potter."

There was a long stillness, and then Harry said, "I'm not. But you want me to forgive you easily, and that's just not happening. I have to see what you're going to do after this, even if you just do it because you want to get along with someone who's going to help your family, and I have to see that you're going to keep it up for a long time."

Draco muttered something and came trotting out of the library. Lucius cast a hasty Disillusionment Charm. Draco was frowning ferociously, a deep furrow between his brows. Lucius thought having Draco see him right now, and the temptation to complain about Harry, would just make him fall right back into his old bad ways.

"Thank you for not flaying my son with your words," Lucius said, when Draco had gone and he'd walked into the library himself.

Harry looked up from the deep black chair he'd ensconced himself in, his eyes that vivid green that always jolted Lucius a little. "He's not as bad as you were."

Lucius winced again. "But you found yourself able to forgive me more easily?"

"You probably overheard that bit, too. It wasn't personal." Harry gave a longing glance at the book in his lap. "Can I get back to studying now?"

"Careful, Harry. That was very nearly impolite." Lucius took a seat on the couch across from him. "It's about the ritual. It requires a house-elf's blood."

For a long moment, Harry just looked at him. His eyes didn't have that blaze that Lucius sometimes found frightening. They didn't have much of anything at all. They might have been a doll's glass eyes.

"Why?" Harry finally asked.

Lucius laid his hands flat on his knees and told himself that he was being stupid to be scared of a mere boy. Even if the boy had defied the Dark Lord and killed a basilisk and outflown a dragon.

"Because the ritual is meant to free a living being from the servitude of a Horcrux," Lucius said. "And house-elves are the servants of most wizards."

"Does it need to be one of your house-elves?"

That wasn't what Lucius had expected; what he'd expected was more in the way of vociferous protests. He eyed Harry carefully. "No. It only needs to be a house-elf, and it must have some experience of servitude. That was to keep Dark wizards from sacrificing infant house-elves," he added, so that Harry could see the kind of people he didn't hold with.

Harry's smile was a little vicious. "Then I just ask that you let me choose the house-elf. There's one who will be glad to help me."

"Master Harry Potter should not be staying with bad old masters!"

Of course it would be this one, Lucius thought, and worked to hold his expression of distaste under control as he stared at Dobby. Dobby was in the middle of the dining room, his arms folded and his drill glaring into Lucius more intimidatingly than Lucius would have thought possible.

"I'm doing this because they're going to help me survive Voldemort, Dobby," Harry said, and smiled at the elf. Lucius blinked. He had never thought that Harry could smile like that. Then again, they were hardly friends, despite how much Harry might have trusted him with some confidences. "Did you know that I'm a Horcrux?"

That occasioned some more flapping of the hands and moaning. Lucius wanted to hide his face. It was monumentally embarrassing.

But Harry calmed Dobby down, in the end-perhaps the most surprising thing was that he just had to ask for that peace-and told him about the ritual. Dobby listened, his ears quivering towards Harry but his suspicious eyes never leaving the rest of them. Narcissa smiled. Dobby examined her as if she had started to play snake-charming music.

"And you needs Dobby's blood," Dobby finally said, when enough time had passed that Lucius had revised his estimate of Harry's patience considerably upwards.

"Yes." Harry's eyes had achieved that eerie glitter again. "If you'll give it to me. I'd rather have your blood than anyone else's."

Lucius wanted to shake his head. Harry had described Dobby as a free elf. Why couldn't he see, from the rapturous way Dobby gave up a vial of his blood after that request, that he had simply changed from one master to another?

He waited to make that observation until after Dobby had vanished, with many promises not to tell Dumbledore or anyone else about where Harry was, and Harry was studying the vial of sludgy blood in his hands. Harry snapped him a sharp gaze. "I'm not anyone's master."

"Dobby's chosen to serve you, though," Draco pointed out. "Even I can see that."

"I'm still not his master," Harry said, and handed the vial of blood to Narcissa.

"What would you call the relationship the two of you have, then?" Lucius ventured, since he didn't know another name for it.

"It's called friendship. Try it sometime," Harry said, and vanished in the direction of the library.

The letter Harry had sent to Granger was, unsurprisingly, answered with another. This time, it came with a beautiful snowy owl that made Harry's face soften as he reached out to tickle his fingers over her breast feathers. "So you found your way to me at last, huh, girl?" he asked softly.

The owl bobbed her head and nibbled at Harry's fingers in a familiar way. Lucius hesitated. "This is your owl?"

"Yeah. I had to leave her behind when you took me from the Dursleys'. Luckily she was flying free and not locked in her cage then."

"You could have gone back to get her. Or sent me to do so."

Harry shrugged at him. "I was half-convinced that you were going to kill me when you took me away from the house. There wouldn't have been a point in asking you to go and get her then."

"And now?"

"I trust that you're not going to kill me. I trust that you want to help me win this war with Voldemort, because that will save you, too. But not much else." Harry let his fingers run over the owl's head, and she emitted an ecstatic trill and nuzzled her beak against his fingers. "Not enough to let you sort through my belongings."

"I would not have stolen them."

Harry gave Lucius a smile and said nothing about it. "Hedwig was smart enough to find her way to the Order, and smart enough not to let them place a tracking charm on her, weren't you, girl?" The owl cuddled close to him. "Let's see what Hermione has to say." Harry did cast the spells on the letter that would reveal the message and any spells without being told.

Lucius sat back, feeling a little huffy, as Harry read the words softly to himself. He would not have stolen the belongings Harry had left behind. He had better manners than that. He would have looked at them, would have drawn conclusions, but-

Oh.

Harry didn't want him doing that, probably far more than he worried about Lucius or his family stealing his things.

"Hermione says that she's willing to believe me-provisionally," Harry said, drawing Lucius's attention back to the letter. "She still wants to meet me in person and talk about what made me run away from the Dursleys, but she sounds less frantic about it." He folded up the letter, scowling thoughtfully. "I'll wait until after the ritual to meet her."

"Why then?" Lucius asked, honestly surprised. He would have thought that Harry would take the lack of tracking charms or other spells on this letter as a sign that Granger, at least, was trustworthy, and pushed for an in-person meeting sooner.

"I don't want anything to break my concentration." Harry settled back in the chair, looking thoughtful. "I've chosen to trust you, you know? Pushed myself into doing it. I don't want her to make me start questioning that."

"That confession is less than flattering."

"Considering everything that was between us until recently, I don't see why you're surprised."

Lucius grimaced. "Do you assume that our association will end with the ritual?"

"Well-I sort of thought so." Harry blinked at him. "That you would take me back to the Order, and you would probably try to stay out of the war."

Lucius leaned forwards. "The prophecy never spoke of a time limit. I want to continue helping you, especially since I assume you will win this war."

"That might be a dangerous thing to assume." Harry was frowning and only absentmindedly tickling Hedwig's breast feathers with one finger. "We don't know how many other Horcruxes Voldemort has, and we have no idea if Dumbledore knows about them or has a plan for dealing with them."

"We don't, but we know that he made them," Lucius said, as confidently as he could. He still wanted to go somewhere to vomit when he thought about the Dark Lord making multiple Horcruxes. "I can never serve someone who did that again. I will fight with you and for you. And beside your allies, as long as you can persuade them that I belong somewhere other than prison."

Harry studied him with somber eyes. "You know that most of them won't be as polite as I have been. Or they won't trust you the way I have."

"That matters little."

"Does it really? I recall you punching Mr. Weasley in a bookshop for suggesting something less insulting."

Lucius winced at the reminder. "That should never have happened."

"But it did." Harry leaned forwards a little. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"I suppose-make amends. Apologize and try to see if they'll give me and my family a chance." Lucius swallowed, since those words seemed to burn to nothing in the fire of Harry's stare. "If they don't, keep my resentment to myself."

Harry smiled at last. "That's all I really want. I can't control their reactions or even say how they'll react. I think Mr. Weasley might forgive you right away, but maybe not. If you can keep from saying anything, though, you're already doing better than Ron sometimes, and half the school all of the time. And your son almost all of the time," he added.

"Are you going to forgive Draco?"

"I told him, and now you. It's conditional."

Lucius suspected that was all he would get, so he nodded, and Harry turned back to petting his owl and considering Granger's message. Lucius, meanwhile, leaned back in his seat as he caught sight of Narcissa standing in the doorway behind Harry's shoulder.

Narcissa arched a slightly demanding eyebrow at him, and Lucius nodded.

Yes, everything they should need for the ritual was ready.

"You understand exactly what you must do, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry softened his voice, probably because Narcissa was giving him a doubtful look. Lucius stood behind her, so he couldn't see her face, but he knew his wife. "I promise. I would stop if I made a mistake."

"If you do that, you will probably strengthen the hold of the Horcrux upon your soul."

Harry sighed out, while Lucius flinched. Merlin, how could Harry be so calm? Lucius wasn't even the one who had a parasite fastened to his soul. "I understand. But the ritual would destroy me utterly if I tried to complete it with a mistake, right?"

Narcissa nodded, with what Lucius knew was great unwillingness, and he stepped up behind her to touch her lightly on the back of the neck. Harry politely averted his gaze and cleared his throat. "Well, I'll just have to make sure I get it right the first time. Don't worry. My life's been full of dangerous things I had to get right the first time."

Narcissa didn't smile, and in fact, Lucius felt her back muscles tighten in protest under his hand. But she only nodded. When she stepped back, he stepped back with her.

They were in the Malfoys' ritual room, a black box of stone off the cellars, utterly in darkness except for small artificial stars embedded in the ceiling. Narcissa, who was in charge of the stars and changing them when she felt it was time, now had the constellation Leo shining over Harry's head, in the position it would have taken on July thirty-first sixteen years ago.

Harry stood naked except for the spirals of blood that twisted up and down his chest and back, spirals that Narcissa had helped him apply. The blood included Dobby's, Harry's own-bled from the scar slowly over several days-and Lucius's, taken from the Dark Mark. It was the closest they could come to getting the blood of the one who had created the Horcruxes. Lucius certainly could not take a dagger to the Dark Lord.

Harry closed his eyes now and stood with his hands balanced in front of him as though he was cupping an invisible tray. Lucius watched in silence. The motion of Harry's hands and the blood on his body were in fact the only visible signs of the ritual. Most of the battle would be fought in his head, against the piece of soul that was attached to his own.

It unnerved Lucius to know that he might not realize the outcome until either Harry opened clear green eyes, or something else opened those eyes and stared at him. But it was preferable to leaving their ally to cope with the Horcrux inside him. Lucius wasn't even sure that Harry would be able to fight the Dark Lord forever.

Harry began to whisper, over and over beneath his breath, the Latin chant that Narcissa had taught him. Narcissa tilted her head, the tension lines around her eyes the only visible sign for her of how intently she was concentrating. Lucius caught her gaze. She nodded. Then it was right so far.

Harry lifted his hands towards the stars. Lucius had cast a spell to enhance his own night vision, or he never would have seen it. No candles could be lit around them, and no fires, not even Lumos Charms, lest they dim the ritual's effectiveness. This was a thing made in the dark, and in darkness it must be fought.

Lucius did see the moment when Harry's eyes widened and his hands curled into fists. he snarled, a guttural sound, and Lucius flinched back from the noise of it. Harry swayed back and forth on his feet for a second, his legs splayed, his chest heaving, and then he flung his head back and screamed.

"Does that disrupt the ritual?" Lucius managed to learn near enough Narcissa to ask.

Her face was pale, but she shook her head. "He is in the midst of battle now," she whispered, while another scream rang from the stone walls of the ritual room. "We can do nothing. He will win, or the Horcrux will."

"I will kill him if it does."

Narcissa curled her arm around his right one and squeezed, hard. "Thank you," she whispered. "I know that I should be able to, since he could be a danger to our Draco in that state, but-he is just Draco's age, and Sirius's godson."

Lucius only nodded, letting her feel the motion of his head against her neck, while Harry screamed again, and again. The sounds were ripping, and marked by the sound of slamming flesh as Harry punched himself in the face, again and again. Lucius did notice that most of the blows were falling on the scar.

As he watched, something shimmering and soft moved near the scar. Lucius leaned forwards. No, it was not his imagination. Black blood was gushing from the lightning bolt shape, leaking down Harry's face towards the swirl of other kinds of blood on his body.

"Narcissa-"

"He will have to finish the Horcrux before it utterly breaks apart the pattern of lines," Narcissa said simply, and firmed her hold on Lucius's arm when he might have launched himself forwards. "No. You can't help him. You know that."

Lucius stood silently, still staring, as the faint starlight shone down on the struggle and Harry screamed again and again. The screams were sounding more guttural now, though, more like the snarls of a huge dog. Lucius swallowed. He had no idea whether that was a good sign or not. The description of the ritual in Narcissa's book had been-less than clear.

The black blood broke apart one particular swirl on Harry's chest that had been drawn with Dobby's donated blood, and a brilliant blue-green spark leaped into the darkness. Lucius thought it was the color of the elf's eyes. Once again, he had no idea if this was a good thing or not.

From the way Narcissa tensed next to him, he thought not.

The next trickle of black blood went through something that made a sharp pain show up in Lucius's chest. He gasped and grabbed his heart as much as he could through several layers of flesh. That line must have been drawn with his own blood.

The black line wound towards Harry's feet, and he cried out one more time. Lucius felt the sound scrambling his brain. He sagged to his knees, his hands once again planted over his heart, and felt something dark and cold pass above his head.

Narcissa grasped his elbows and said something into his ear, but Lucius was reeling so badly that he couldn't hear it. It wasn't until she repeated it that he trusted what he had heard. "It's over, Lucius. It's over."

Lucius managed to stand, although only by placing his hands flat on the stone and heaving himself up. He saw Harry lying on the floor with his neck twisted, and felt pain tear through his chest again. "It's over" didn't mean that Harry had actually triumphed. He hurried forwards and stooped over him.

He felt Harry's chest moving beneath his touch, and swallowed. That was, at least, something. Then he felt Harry stirring and trying to sit up. Narcissa was the one who had to guide him backwards so that Harry could do it without bumping Lucius's chin with his head.

That had never happened before.

Lucius watched in silent apprehension as Harry's eyes opened. They were glassy and shining, and he wanted to know-

They turned to him. They were clear. No Horcrux looked out of them. As Lucius watched, Harry began to smile in what looked like delight.

"I'm naked and I'm bloody and-" Harry took a deep breath. "I feel better than I have since Sirius died."

Lucius dared to smile and reached out, letting his hand linger for a moment on Harry's shoulder. "I take it that is something you would rather feel?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. And thank you, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry grinned, and then threw back his head and laughed. "Right now, I'd forgive Draco anything he wanted me to forgive," he added, when the laughter finally ended and Narcissa had insisted on clothing him in a white robe she'd had at the ready.

Lucius was rather glad that his son wasn't in the room at the moment. Draco didn't need the encouragement.

"You're welcome as long as you can control your tongue around Hermione."

Lucius had agreed to that condition for the meeting, and presumably the Auror who had accompanied Granger had agreed to the same, about holding his tongue around Lucius. He was Kingsley Shacklebolt, a man Lucius had often seen around the Minister, and had considered too sensible to get involved with Dumbledore's nonsense. The knowledge that he was paid one particular kind of debt, although to be sure, there were precious few people Lucius could pass the information on to now.

They met in a deserted corner of Knockturn Alley, near a shop that Lucius had paid the shopkeeper to abandon for an hour. Harry had looked shocked that he was willing to do that, but Lucius had only shrugged.

In truth, he considered the expressions on Granger's and Shacklebolt's faces when they heard about the Horcrux more than enough payment.

"You were what?" Granger whispered.

"I was a being that had a piece of Voldemort inside me," Harry said steadily. He and Narcissa had agreed on not mentioning the word "Horcrux" in Knockturn Alley, where there might always be ears to overhear despite the thick privacy spells both Lucius and Shacklebolt had put up, but from the storm gathering in Shacklebolt's eyes, Lucius knew that the Auror probably had some idea of what Horcruxes were. Not surprising, with his training. "The piece of soul is gone now, but while it was there, it explained everything. That was why I kept having visions of him and he could send me visions he chose." Harry took a deep breath. "It took a long time and it was pretty horrible to get rid of it, but at least this way, I know that no one else will die like Sirius did."

"That wasn't your fault, Harry." Granger leaned across the dirty little table that separated them and hugged Harry. "I don't want you ever to think that."

Lucius watched in silence. Granger didn't entirely understand Harry, he thought, although he could see that she was a good friend and a great source of comfort. Lucius had let Harry work with his grief and rage, turning them into weapons to drive him on. Granger just wanted to help Harry get rid of them.

"I know, Hermione," Harry murmured, and hugged her back. He started to say something else, but Shacklebolt interrupted.

"Did you use Dark Arts to get rid of this-link?"

Harry shot him an intense glance. "It was a ritual. It probably had Dark aspects, although I wouldn't classify it that way, personally."

"I just wondered if it was common knowledge," Shacklebolt said. Now that Lucius thought about it, perhaps the man had known about the Horcrux already, from the way he talked. He must be wondering why Dumbledore had never utilized this ritual to get rid of it, and had to think that it being Dark Arts was one reason for the "great wizard" to hold back.

"What does it matter if it was common knowledge?" Granger was shaking Harry's arm a little. "I just want to know why you went with the Malfoys in the first place, Harry. You didn't know you would be able to get rid of the link to Voldemort then."

Harry turned his intense glance on Lucius this time. Lucius watched and said nothing. Harry had trusted him enough. What he said now-unless he betrayed a Malfoy secret-was up to him.

Harry turned back to Granger. "Say that I was tired of being left out of things. And that I was despairing because Sirius had died. And that this was the one chance I could see to somehow seize control of what I was missing and change things."

"And that was all?" Granger's eyes measured Harry.

"Most of it," Harry said, with a bright smile, and Lucius knew then that Harry wasn't going to admit to Lucius almost kidnapping him. He didn't close his eyes and sigh, but he came close.

It seemed he could trust Harry even more than he'd thought he could.

Oddly, that meeting with Granger seemed to have reassured the Order in some way. They no longer sent charmed letters, although Dumbledore did write Harry a chiding one about trusting Death Eaters too much. Harry had rolled his eyes and crumpled it up, then sent a letter with Hedwig that he hadn't allowed Lucius to see. Lucius had to admit to being intensely curious, but so far, he had held back and trusted Harry, and thought there was every chance that Harry would one day tell him.

Harry had received "official" permission to stay with the Malfoys until the beginning of the school year, and his possessions back from the Order. And Lucius had received a message, too, a dream that bloomed like a dark flower around him one night.

"You have betrayed me, Luciusssss."

Lucius looked unflinchingly at the face of the Dark Lord as it appeared before him in a dark room like the ritual chamber Harry had defeated the Horcrux in. He had thought he would have the temptation to kneel, but astonishingly, he didn't. Of course, it helped that this was only a dream. "Not before you betrayed all pure-blood wizards, my lord."

The Dark Lord paused, as if that was intriguing enough to make him forget about his desire to kill Lucius right away. "What doessss that mean?"

"There is some magic that is not to be touched. Like soul-magic."

The Dark Lord's image went still. Lucius stared back and said nothing. He no longer feared the power the Dark Lord had once had over him. Among other things, Narcissa had taught him runes from the same book that had freed Harry, ones that he could work into his flesh around the Mark and keep it suppressed.

For another, he realized now how much of his fear had been because he had thought he had no other choice.

There is always another choice. It might have been Harry's voice, singing around him with whirling notes like snowflakes.

"I will dessssstroy you, Lucius."

"Maybe you will," Lucius said. He had feared death nearly as much as the monster in front of him, he thought. It was the major reason he had gone along with him for as long as he had. His own death, Narcissa's, Draco's.

But there was someone who had faced down death time and again, this monster time and again, and as a mere child. Lucius chided himself now for not paying attention to the lessons that Harry Potter had been trying to teach him for years. For that, he had no one to blame but himself. Even the Dark Lord's obsession with Potter could have taught him those things, if he had paid attention. The Dark Lord had never obsessed over someone like he did Potter, even Dumbledore.

"Get out of my sight!"

The dark dream disintegrated, and Lucius opened his eyes to the softer twilight of his bedchambers. Narcissa placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Lucius?"

"It is all right. I am all right." Lucius leaned his head on his arm and stared at the uncovered Mark, the grey edge of it, not black, that peered from under his sleeve. "I think from now on, I will only get stronger."

Narcissa kissed the nape of his neck, and Lucius pretended that he didn't feel the salt of her tears. He simply reached back with one hand, and cupped her cheek.

"I think you should forgive me now, Potter."

"I'm waiting to see how you behave the first time you look at Ron and Hermione, Malfoy."

Lucius felt his lips twitch as he listened to Harry and Draco's arguing as they walked ahead of them. They had identical trolleys and, now, identical trunks. Narcissa had made Harry remove all his belongings from the old one and had incinerated it without saying a word. The new trunk Harry had had been paid for straight out of the Malfoy vaults.

There had been a shouting match about the old trunk, but only until Narcissa had pointed out some of the spells that Order people might have cast on it. Harry had admitted, then, that the new one was at least bigger and had his name on a discreet plaque near the edge of the lid.

"I want to see how you act around Weasley, Potter. You haven't seen him for two months."

"As if that's anything against all the years that you've hated him."

Lucius was about to intervene in the argument, which he saw no reason for the boys to have in public, when Draco drew in a sharp breath and looked up, and Lucius saw Weasley and Granger and the Weasley parents stampeding towards them. Despite how much he must have been occupied by the sight of his probably-best-friends, Harry managed to crane his neck back and look at Lucius when Arthur Weasley skidded to a stop in front of him.

Lucius only nodded, because he would not disappoint his protégé, and said, "Arthur," without much of a glance. He leaned against a wall, waiting for the confrontation to be over with.

"Harry! Mate!" The youngest Weasley boy apparently talked with his hands, with how much he was waving them around. Meanwhile, Granger was frowning back and forth between Harry and the Weasleys and Draco, and Arthur was gaping at Lucius in a very satisfying way.

"Yes, Ron?" Harry smiled at Weasley and clapped him on the shoulder. "Good to see you, by the way."

"What are you doing with the Malfoys?"

"Come on, Ron." Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that Hermione probably spent most of the last fortnight telling you."

"I just-hadn't expected you to still be with them," Weasley muttered, glaring at Lucius as if he expected him to spontaneously explode from the force of the glare. Lucius, who had been glared at by experts, smiled back, and saw the flush that danced up his face.

"Good morning, Weasley, Granger," Draco said then, his voice aloof but friendlier than it had ever been to Muggleborns and Weasleys.

They both turned to stare at him, and Lucius saw the moment when Draco decided that he preferred their astonishment to their anger. He grinned back at them and then stalked onto the train, calling casually over his shoulder, "Find me when you're done with the lot of them, Potter."

"He still calls you Potter?" Granger asked.

"You're friends with Malfoy?" Weasley demanded.

"I'll explain it, but it'll take a while," Harry said, and then turned to Lucius and Narcissa.

Lucius didn't intend to clasp his shoulder in public the way he might have in private, but he managed a small smile. "Do try to remember to be polite and thus devastating, Harry," he said.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," Harry said, rolling his eyes, and attracting a look from Granger that seemed torn between horrified and admiring. "Thanks again, Mr. Malfoy. Mrs. Malfoy, it was lovely. I'll look forward to seeing you-sometime."

Narcissa nodded. At the moment, they didn't know if Harry would spend the Christmas holiday with them or not. It was possible that Dumbledore might interfere, or the war would. For now, she leaned forwards and bestowed a light touch on Harry's forehead, above the faded scar. "Thank you, Harry. I expect a letter now and again."

Harry nodded, the glint in his eyes again for a moment. He had expressed his opinion, loudly and often, about people taking the place of his parents. Lucius had had to point out, forcefully, that they really weren't trying to do that. They were trying to save their own skins.

Now, he waved to them and got on the train in the company of Weasley and Granger. Narcissa leaned against Lucius's side as they stared after the Hogwarts Express. "Do you think we'll see him again?" she murmured.

Lucius thought of the grey Mark on his arm, and the prophecy, and the way that Draco had smiled when he realized that he could get along with Harry's friends, at least a little. But most of all, he thought of the light in Harry's eyes that had been there when he woke from his despair over Black's death, and when he had begun to admit some of the secrets of his past, and when he had defeated the Horcrux.

"I'm sure of it," he said.

The End.