All That You Leave Behind

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Lucius Malfoy woke from a dream and stretched, feeling supremely satisfied with himself. His agile brain had finally worked out the final stages of the plot that would at last see him avenged on the Potter brat and on the traitor Snape. He lay still and revelled in the feeling of simply being a Malfoy. Of course, that had caused problems for him in the past, and was doing so currently, as some of the Dark Lord’s followers felt that Lucius had escaped his just punishment through his position and wealth. He snorted quietly. As though they would not have done the same, had they been able!



Even so, he had not escaped. His son was scarred thanks to the Potter brat’s actions. Imperceptible though they were, Lucius knew they were there, knew that Potter had bested his son, and that could not, would not, be tolerated. That his plan would place him at the head of any Death Eater organisation, as the natural successor to the Dark Lord was merely a benefit to his eyes. The key part, the essential part, was that he had misery planned for Potter and Snape.



He closed his grey eyes, a smug, satisfied smirk on his face. Misery.


Reaching Hogwarts through the secret passage, he made his way calmly to the foyer, having already alerted Minerva of his impending visit. He paced up to Dumbledore's former domain and found himself face to painted face with his mentor. His heart clenched at seeing the familiar blue eyes. wrinkled face, and long white beard again, but that did not dissuade him from speaking.





“Albus, this has been against my better judgement from the very start” he declared, “I had intended on staying at Spinner's End, or at the flat in Hogsmeade. I did not intend to live with them, and cannot go on hiding away with the Potters. I want to be doing something with my life. With this second, no, third, chance.”



The portrait nodded sagely, knowing Severus was referring to the night he had begged Albus to save Lily. Although Albus had failed, Severus’ first life had ended in that moment, and his new one had started, that of an honest man. And now he was on his third, and wondering what to do with it. “Have you considered brewing potions?” he suggested softly.



“I do brew potions, some for the Aurors' use,” the other wizard admitted, “but it hardly occupies me day and night. Besides, I need somewhere to go that isn’t that house. I cannot bear being confined there any longer. It’s too difficult." Severus found he could no longer look into those damnedly twinkling blue eyes, and rose from his seat. He began to pace back and forth distractedly, wanting very much to confide his misery over the situation with Harry, yet not willing to bear the inevitable look of disappointment that was sure to cloud Dumbledore's blue gaze.



"Severus?" came the old man's kindly voice, "I thought you and Harry had become close."



Severus swallowed audibly, thinking his answer through carefully. "We have, Albus. Closer than I ever thought possible," he said equally carefully, "I have come to.....care for him. Deeply." He ventured a covert glance at the portrait, trying to gauge the man's reaction.



"And yet you find it difficult to live in the same home as he and his wife," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.



"I...care about Ginevra as well," Severus whispered painfully, "she is, perhaps, like a daughter of sorts to me. She's an admirable young woman, and...."



"Just what Harry needs," Dumbledore interceded, "she is able to give him the love and family he never had."



Severus cringed inwardly at the firm tone of the older wizard's voice. Did he know? Could he had guessed?! When he had been alive, Dumbledore often "knew" things without any perceivable cause. Surely his portrait could not also perform this mysterious feat?



Severus covered his face with his hands. “I know,” he groaned, “I care deeply for Ginevra, but, Albus, Harry and I…” he stopped, unable to choke out the words.



“I am aware of the depth of your feelings, Severus, ” His tone became more brisk, “But we are not here to discuss that, instead, we should be discussing your future, as you have stated.



Suddenly, Severus realised that, although he did want to talk about his ideas, he wanted this man’s counsel more. “It’s so ridiculously complicated,” he said, angry at himself to hear the sudden raspiness of his voice, “I had resigned myself to being his friend, and nothing more, but......it became more. I encouraged him to marry Ginevra, and yet.....I cannot help but regret that decision now. I.....cannot help but feel.......loss....and that feeling colours every moment I have with him. I see him with her and have to walk away. I cannot trust myself not to hurt her. I’ve tried to walk away, Albus, knowing if I stayed I would yell at her that she is intruding on what I have with Harry, and I am horrified that I can wish to hurt her like that. I never thought I would......that it would.....come to this. He's....he's all I have, all that is important, all that means anything. I am not, however, all that he has. And certainly not the most important. He has a child with her, has a family, and he won’t lose that for me.”



Albus spoke very kindly, “I think you are doing him a disservice. Perhaps, in the end, he would choose Ginny, as she is the mother of his child, but do not doubt the depth of his feelings for you, Severus."



Severus could almost feel Albus’ wrinkled hand on his arm, the sensation, and knowing it was false, made him feel the loss of him more acutely than ever before.



“Harry is bound to you in ways that he isn’t bound to Ginny. Your shared past is so much more complicated and tangled than, I think,anyone realises. You have saved him numerous times through what you have said, untruthfully, and what you have not said when Voldemort lived. He, in his way, gave you a reason to live. Do not underestimate what binds you. It is strong.”



There was a lengthy pause before Albus spoke more brightly, “And now, dear boy, your future?”


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