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A Nagini and Severus Tale	By : MJurjevic Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > General Views: 3508 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter Fandom, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter Six: Before the Dreadful Dinner Party: Ambivalence Ascendant – Part Two

In her boudoir, Nagini relished the hot cinnamon-scented bath which Dobby had prepared for her. Afterwards, in her bedchamber, after tasting the petit fours and mixed fruits brought to her by the subservient creature, Dobby insisted she had a small glass of elf-made wine. Nagini wasn't used to having a house-elf at her beck and call, nor had she ever been pampered so much. At first, she felt awkward and wary of a possible false security. There was a stark contrast between her experience outside the chamber’s walls and this present occurrence within them. As such, she was reluctant to completely trust the plush, comfortable surroundings and the grovelling attentions of Dobby. But she gave into it. The hot bath, food and wine caused a drowsiness to come over her which she could no longer resist.

Feeling an unaccustomed sense of relaxation lying in the middle of the luscious grand-size canopied bed, she stretched out and reflected over the day's events. With a heavy sigh, Nagini tried to recapture and reflect upon her encounters: Gringotts was horrible, those two young wizards – the taller one, he entered my mind – well, that won't happen again; oh, those insufferable toffs at Madam Malkin's... But the soft fragrance of succulent aromas from the feast being prepared wafted through the manor, mixing with the heavy aroma of cinnamon spice in her bath water, along with a distant tinkling sound of string instruments playing unobtrusive melodies which floated through the air. Nagini began to drift in and out of a light sleep.

In between her napping on and off, she thought about Lucius' comments on the pathway outside the manor and the unexpectedness of Abraxas' disinterest in interrogating them both further. Perhaps it was only because guests were coming and Abraxas was just postponing some further punishment, corporeal or other, till a later time; or perhaps – the faintest hope flitted through Nagini's thoughts – the occasion for this evening had changed his mind towards being more tolerant; perhaps he was going to give her a chance. A chance to be normal. To fit in. I can do it, she thought to herself drowsily, I can be his perfect niece for an evening. The whole weekend. And then, Monday, Hogwarts. Hogwarts! It'll be so wonderful. A fresh start. Away from Malfoy Manor!

You shouldn't believe what you imagine, you'll always be disappointed. Lucius' words came back to her. As she fretted, struggling to overcome her lethargy, at last she gave in to it and fell into a deep sleep.

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What are you afraid of Abraxas? And you – Riddle?" taunted Lucretia. "Stupid, filthy Muggles?"

Shrieking at the top of her lungs, Lucretia screamed, "I will fear nothing – no one!"

Flashes of ricocheting coruscated light, bouncing, soaring in the air from curses being thrown around the dark Slytherin common room, abounded simultaneously and relentlessly.

"Father?"

Abraxas slowly gazed up from where he had been leaning against the mantelpiece and staring into the burning embers in the fireplace. He turned his head around slightly to acknowledge Lucius, realising his eyes must have appeared glazed with a faraway look. In reality the potion he had been taking for a flare up of Dragon Pox had caused his vision to momentarily blur. He shifted his body from leaning on the suppliant mantelpiece and turned to focus on his chair; Abraxas' body ached, the inflammation and painful chancre sores along with a bordering, flaring temperature ebbed and twinged through his body. The flashbacks of his sister and Voldemort did not help to still the bile in his throat, waiting to come out.

As Abraxas slowly tottered from the mantelpiece to his lounge chair, collapsing into it, he instructed, "The red phial there, Lucius – mix it in my glass." He motioned to the nearest side table.

Unquestioningly, Lucius did as instructed. Upon finishing, out of habit, he took a linen napkin, placed it under the silver goblet, crossed over and immediately helped guide it to his father's lips. Helping to hold it steady for Abraxas, he watched apathetically while Abraxas struggled to not gag on the sanguine liquid, forcing himself to drink the contents.

Clearing his throat, Abraxas suddenly grabbed Lucius by the arm firmly and said, "You're a good son. Loyal. Obedient. I am so very pleased," before heavily dropping his arm down to rest.

Replacing the glass, Lucius didn't comment, taking it for granted the narcotic effects had taken effect immediately. Abraxas' vision still seemed unfocused; he closed his eyes and murmured, "A witch's tears... a witch's tears. Beware a witch's tear. Old Magic. Very old. Very perilous. One becomes irretrievable and lost..."

A witch's tears? Bloody hell! How does he know these things? thought Lucius to himself, trying to maintain a placid face.

Abraxas' lids suddenly snapped open, looking directly at Lucius.

"Tonight is the culmination, the public celebration and sealing of our family's line with the Black line before the final consecration. Narcissa Black is a gem; but coy and cunning beyond her insipid family's imagination. Never underestimate your bride-to-be," emphasised Abraxas.

Relieved, having expected a more caustic criticism, Lucius answered, "Of course not, Father."

"The New Order is here; the opportunity and time is at hand. The New Age has heralded in a Dark Lord who will succeed in conquering all. I have known Voldemort almost all my life; I've seen his evolvement into the great Dark sorcerer that he truly is; he was born to rule others. Nature has endowed him with remarkable, incomparable powers. Those who follow him will be generously rewarded; those who do not will perish along with the worthless Muggles, as well they should."

Lucius relaxed a tad, assuming his father had begun one of his redundant lectures.

But Abraxas jumped again in his thoughts. "Another female you should never underestimate is your cousin, Nagini." Sharply, he asked, "Did you touch her tears?"

Even though Lucius stood still, outwardly keeping calm, his forehead became moist and clammy with perspiration, the way he always became when he knew he was caught by Abraxas. Bugger it all! How does he know these things? It was just one bloody tear! The absurdity of it all exasperated Lucius, for he knew it was a test. A test to see if he would lie regarding Nagini. Abraxas knew the answer already. And Lucius knew that he knew it. It was just another of Abraxas' sick games of power particularly used for his son; he enjoyed pushing Lucius' buttons and watching him squirm.

"Just... just one tear." Lucius confessed resentfully.

"You stupid little fool! How you disappoint me!"

Even though Lucius was accustomed to Abraxas' belittlement of him, he resented it so much more intensely tonight for some unusual reason. He wanted to yell back at him, I'm my own man! I'm to be married soon; tonight is my night, the recognition of my future rite of passage! You and your stupid Old Magic beliefs! The power of witch's tears? It's ridiculous; I have powers that you have no knowledge of; I'm the Dark Lord's favourite! But a little voice in Lucius' head told him to keep his nerve and not display anything resembling a tantrum which, in Abraxas' eyes, would further confirm how immature and weak he still was.

Regardless, Lucius couldn't leave things like this. Compelled to show his father that he knew a thing or two, he asked, "Father, may I speak freely?"

Surprised and intrigued, Abraxas benevolently answered, "By all means, you have my utmost attention."

Feeling a wave of nervousness, but keeping his nerve, Lucius offered, "It's just that in the last year or two, I've, um, noticed that young witches can be made more agreeable if they, er, feel comfortable and non-threatened."

Abraxas' eyes flashed with anger. Eyes flickering, he glared dangerously at Lucius, but then he huffed, and his lips started slowly twitching until he exploded in full laughter, his eyes watering. "Oh, Lucius, Lucius." Seeing Lucius was unflinchingly earnest, Abraxas enjoyed giving him a satiric smile and said, "Ah, yes. To be younger, in full health," Abraxas raised his eyebrows slyly, "with a Narcissa Black waiting and panting deliriously for you."

Lucius features hardened slightly. Yes, you old letch. It's a good thing that you don't know that I have true feelings for her.

Displaying the expected façade in his charade with Abraxas, Lucius forced a charming smile and boasted, "Well, of course, Father. The Malfoy charm. When one gets down to the basics, Narcissa is in the end, merely a witch: the weaker sex."

Abraxas cocked his head to the side and looked curiously at Lucius. "Perhaps I have underestimated you, son."

Lucius felt choked and couldn't comment, but manage a strained smile instead for Abraxas.

Abraxas had risen and strode back across to the fireplace; he had regained his full vigorous energy. He stood now preened and taut, staring again into the burning embers, and said, "Perhaps... perhaps we should try it your way, Lucius. Let Nagini think what she wishes to believe... let her get close to you if possible; that tactic will indeed be useful, easier than other ones more unpleasant though quite effective... Wile her, beguile her, but in the end, never ever make the irreversible mistake of truly caring for her as yourself, Lucius."

He turned to Lucius and added, "Knowledge is power. Coercing information out of her, to later control her with, is an excellent way to start. Witches love to talk about themselves excessively. It doesn't take much prodding. But then, you know that well, don't you?"

"Yes, Father."

"Don't worry, son. I'm not completely heartless. I've already taken care of Nagini's long-term future; it has been predetermined. Separate from yours, of course."

Before Lucius could think how to ask Abraxas what he meant by 'predetermined', Dobby Apparated in the chamber. "Forgive Dobby, Master Malfoy, but you commanded Dobby inform you when the guests start to arrive. Some have appeared on the lawn of the mansion."

"Very good. We're on our way. Dobby, go make a final check on the banquet preparations, start the music, and then, immediately start serving drinks and hor d'oerves to the guests in the grande reception room."

"Yes, Master." The little elf popped out.

Leaving the drawing chamber, Abraxas and Lucius concordantly made their way towards the main entrance doors; soft music was heard filling the magnificent halls and rooms. As they passed by the bottom of the stairway, Abraxas stopped and instructed Lucius, "Tonight is yours and Narcissa's night. For now, let's not dwell on anything else except the evening at hand. Just go and escort your cousin down; impress on her what is expected of her this evening." And with that, Abraxas strode towards the grand main doors which were opening magically on their own.

As Lucius went up the black marble stairway to go and escort Nagini down, he heard, above the murmur of animated salutations and other opening one-liners mixed with the sporadic, garish laughter of guests, Abraxas' voice in a sing-song cadence, "Don't disappointment me, Lucius!"

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Awakening, Nagini struggled with her grogginess and the unfamiliar sense of relaxation. As she heard Dobby's repeated calling, "Mistress Nagini, Mistress Nagini! You must wake up; you must get ready!" she realised where she was and what he was referring to.

"I'm up, Dobby, I'm up! I'm all right." she drowsily reassured him. As Nagini sat completely up and forced herself to open her eyes; she yawned and stretched, still feeling heavy with sleep; the little elf was watching her intently.

"It is time, Mistress Nagini. Your gowns have arrived and been hung up. All of the toiletries and accessories have been laid out."

Nagini rose slowly, feeling well-rested and relaxed. There was that scent again.

"Dobby, how did you know I liked the smell of cinnamon?"

"Mistress Lucretia did."

"You knew my mother?" Her heart skipped a beat.

"Of course Dobby knew her, Mistress Nagini."

Yes, of course you knew her; what strange wonderful creatures elves are... Marvelling at the little creature, she said, "That was very sweet of you, Dobby. Thank you."

With immense pleasure, Dobby bowed and then stood eagerly, watching Nagini with the most curious look.

Gazing around the room, taking in its feminine interior, her eyes lingered sleepily on the vanity table. Nagini asked, "Tell me, Dobby, was this my mother's room?"

Dobby hesitated, gulped, and then answered, "No, Mistress Nagini."

Rising and crossing over to the vanity table, she indicated, "Oh, I thought these might have been hers." There was a lovely array of marble-handled brushes, combs and hairpins carefully laid out in proper order.

"Oh no, Mistress. Master Malfoy burned all Mistress Lucretia's belongings. Hers and Mistress Lapontia's rooms are sealed. None of the accessories are from their rooms."

Burned their belongings? Sickened by the thought of both her mother’s as well as Lucius’ mother’s belongings having been destroyed so vilely, but with curiosity getting the better of her, Nagini asked impulsively, "Where are their rooms? Can you take me to them some time?"

Instead of answering her, Dobby gave a slight scream and flung himself towards the wardrobe where he began pounding his head against it.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Nagini screamed. "Why are you doing that?"

With his swollen eyes, he solemnly said, "Master requires it. Dobby must punish himself. Dobby must know when he has made a mistake."

"But you haven't made any mistakes. You're perfect, Dobby; too perfect!"

"Then Mistress Nagini must never ask Dobby to take her to Mistress Lucretia's or Mistress Lapontia's rooms; you must never ask Dobby what was taken from them or destroyed."

"I won't, Dobby, I won't." With her heart fluttering from the violent display of self-punishment, Nagini suddenly remembered something and calmly informed him, "Dobby, I can dress myself. You may go and see if someone else needs your help. I need to use the amenities, the facilities."

The little elf didn't move but remained standing, resolutely looking up at her, not budging. He wasn't taking the hint.

"Dobby, I have to go to the loo; I need some privacy," she kindly intimated.

Understanding this, Dobby bowed and said, "Of course, Mistress. Just call if you should need Dobby, and Dobby will immediately return."

"I will, Dobby. Thank you," she reassured him.

As soon as Dobby Disapparated, Nagini ran over to the wardrobe, and pulled from the inner pocket of her cloak the old dragon-skinned book Abraxas had thrown at her in the vault. If the mood takes him and he remembers this, especially if he knows how much it means to me, Abraxas will surely destroy it out of pure spite. It isn't much, but it was hers - my mother's. She then knelt down in front of her school trunk, in which Dobby had already pre-packed most of her things for Hogwarts. Various articles of clothing and miscellaneous school supplies were in it; even some of Lucius' used sixth-year books had been placed in it. Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy was on the top. Moving things around and digging down towards the bottom, she nestled the little book deep within the space, carefully rearranging and packing things over it as before. It'll be safer here. The elves will take our things early to Hogwarts; I can explore its contents later on there, she thought, reassuring herself.

Rising, she smiled, contented. Feeling satisfied that at least one article of her mother's would be spared from the possible volatile acts of Abraxas, Nagini went to refresh herself, and then hurriedly dressed herself in the simpler of the two gowns that had been sent from Madam Malkin's: an elegant, dark emerald-green, floor-length gown with simple brocade straps holding up the low-curved bodice, with brocaded edges also on the matching sheer wrap.

As she sat on the small dark green pouffe in front of the vanity mirror, a magnificent oval looking-glass with an entwining silver and green border, Nagini looked at her mercurial, slightly unruly wavy hair and thought, A simple French twist; that should suffice for this evening.

As she sectioned, twisted and started to curl the separated locks of hair to be styled in a high bun form, enjoying the feel and creative discipline of hairstyling, a knock was heard on the chamber door, which swung open by itself.

Lucius' voice was heard, "May I come in?"

"Yes, of course," she answered, relieved that Lucius' tone and demeanour were cordial and polite. She had feared that Abraxas had ruined the fragile grain of intimacy that had occurred between them earlier.

"I'm here to escort you down; will you be finishing soon?"

"A few minutes only; just need to finish my hair."

"Why don't you use your... wandless magic?" he asked.

Nagini took a moment to think. She wasn't sure whether she detected a twinge of harmless teasing, or if there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"There are some things I prefer doing with my own two hands," she said slowly. "You wouldn't understand."

"Why wouldn't I?" He looked insulted. His tone of voice confirmed it as he said, "Don't presume to know me so well." As he watched her twisting and pinning her long locks, he said, with a definite edge, "Looks as if you've been living around Muggles too long."

"I have never lived with Muggles!" she shot back at him, a little too vehemently.

Knowing he had touched a nerve, and remembering his father's advice 'knowledge is power', Lucius pursued his objective, "Where did you live? Before Durmstrang?"

Choosing to ignore him, Nagini strategically inserted a hair pin, without answering anything.

Not one to be put off, Lucius attempted to steer her to another topic: "My father said you were taken care of by – what was the phrase? Oh, yes, 'a mad old hag'?"

Nagini sharply corrected, "She was anything but a mad old hag. She was a great sorceress!"

"Who was she?"

Lucius was trying to keep a nonchalant tone to his voice, trying to approach Nagini 'nicely', at which he was a little rusty at the moment, so burning was his desire to grasp any vital information about her as soon as he could. He couldn't wait to prove to Abraxas how cunning and skilled he was, how right he was, able to do things his father couldn't.

But, Nagini wasn't making it any easier for him, by snubbing him. She had stopped her hairstyling, and her hand was unconsciously holding, almost caressing, the dark-emerald pendant she always wore.

She was lost in her thoughts, ...flashes of grey corridors, bright blinding overhead lights, sterile silver room; coldness, running, screams, Dymphna dragging her, Disapparating; dark forests, suffocating, Muggle city streets; Apparating, rats, darkness, sewage smells, panic, that filthy Muggle; hiding, caves, a damp cell in a cold gaol...

Instinctively feeling she was vulnerable to suggestions, Lucius pressed, "Your mother? How did she die? The report stated it wasn't by natural causes. What, then?"

Nagini snapped and swirled around on the dark green pouffe, coiling her back upwards, glaring at Lucius. "What is wrong with you? You're so unbelievably tactless!" Know when to stop, he reminded himself. Seeing he had pushed too far, Lucius tried to gloss over things light-heartedly; he joked, "I've been called many things, but tactless is not one of them."

Nagini said nothing, but turned around again to the mirror, in a thoroughly sullen, melancholic mood. She focused on her manual task at hand and placed another pin to secure a twisted lock in her bun.

Trying to regain his objective, Lucius played his next card, saying the unbelievable. "Forgive me."

Nagini placed the last pin in the snug twist without responding.

Lucius carefully continued, "Do forgive me. I so very much want to know you. Understand you. I've never had an opportunity to speak with you alone. It seems as if there is so little time, and so many questions unanswered."

Nagini still didn't say anything, lost in pensive thought. In the pervading silence which followed, she glanced up in the mirror to see Lucius' reflection; he was checking his immaculate manicure to see if it was indeed immaculate. His feigned ambivalence worked. Nagini sighed and then responded quietly, "I didn't know... we moved around continuously, never in the same place for long. Just before Durmstrang, when Dymphna – my caretaker's name was Dymphna – she was found by Aurors, arrested and taken away to Nurmengard; it was only shortly after then that it was confirmed – the discovery of my mother's remains. My first day at Durmstrang, the authorities informed me." She turned and locked eyes with Lucius. "When I was a little girl, I had just thought my mother disappeared... but not forever... that she would return one day. She would find me. She would come back for me."

It was the first time she had shared this with anyone. Nagini looked wearily at her cousin; she felt so exhausted with the remembrance of the most maudlin times of her life. She took deep breaths to keep back the nauseous feeling and welling tears in her eyes.

As Lucius looked at Nagini, he remembered what Abraxas had said to him earlier, "... beware a witch's tears; they contain some of the world's deepest magic... one becomes irretrievable and lost..."

Perhaps father was right about Old Magic, he thought, for Lucius felt strangely compelled to again go to Nagini and physically comfort her, forgetting all else. But he blinked hard and clenched his fists, regaining his focus to pursue his objective his way. He then did something which he had rarely ever done before; Lucius uttered, "I'm sorry." From Nagini's startled eyes, filled with intense concern, he knew he was on the right path. He swallowed and slowly, decisively continued. "I never knew my mother; she died when I was very young." He gave a forced, practised, tense smile, which he always affected to cover any uncomfortable feelings.

"At least, I have some memories of mine," was the response from Nagini. Calculated or not, an intimacy was formed between them with Nagini also uttering, "I'm sorry, Lucius. So very sorry. You must miss her very much, not having known your mother at all."

"One cannot miss what one's never known. I have no feelings about her one way or another. My father told me she was a pureblood, dutiful; proper in all ways. Just too weak to endure."

Nagini couldn't suppress the slight shudder that went through her at Lucius' detached manner. "Yes, indeed," she thought, "who could have ever endured Abraxas Malfoy; poor Lapontia."

She took control to shake off the morose feeling that was starting to grow heavier in the room between them the further they delved into each other's past. It wasn't the time for it; something felt out of place to Nagini.

"Lucius, your guests are waiting. I have a deal to propose to you." His eyebrows lifted in curiosity and speculation. "I propose that we let things be – no more questions about the past tonight. If tomorrow, if Abraxas..." she hesitated, not wanting to touch upon a delicate topic, "if we have some free time together tomorrow, perhaps, we can talk. Alone. You can ask me anything you like." Then, daring a smile, Nagini added, "But no one-sided deals. I get to ask you questions and get some answers, as well. Fair, enough?"

"Quite." Lucius eyes glinted with satisfaction and amusement.

A truce had been made; agreed to for different reasons.

The two Malfoy kin looked at each other; again, as earlier that afternoon, something inexpressible: a soft, discreet warm sympathy grew from this agreement to share, to dare to trust.

Nagini rose and crossed over to get her wrap.

Lucius got there first. "Allow me?" he asked demurely.

Unlike Bellatrix earlier, she allowed Lucius to hold up the wrap and help her put it on. Satisfied, not so much as with how they looked, which was pristinely elegant and flawless, except for the now less angry mark on Nagini's face, but rather with the calm, trusting intimacy which had taken place between them. The two young Malfoys eyes caught each other’s in their mirrored reflections, and they both smiled decorously.

Gallantly waving his arm towards the door, Lucius asked, "Shall we?"

They glided out, and as they reached the top of the stairway, Lucius held out his arm, and again, unlike earlier this afternoon before they Disapparated, Nagini now warmly, confidently and proudly placed her hand on his proffered arm as they slowly walked down the staircase.

Reaching the bottom, and as they made their way towards the grand reception room, Lucius halted, hesitating, but had to ask, "You know what etiquette is expected of you?"

Nagini couldn't help but laugh at the worried look on Lucius' face, which caused him to drop his mouth open in dismay. Immediately, Nagini assured him, "Yes, I do. I'm not the wild banshee you think I am." Unable to resist teasing him, she added, "Well, not always." As Lucius' eyes momentarily widened, with a gentle squeeze to his arm, she firmly reassured, "Don't worry; I'll make you proud. Trust me."

Lucius blinked thoughtfully and then relaxed; they walked closer to where the roar of voices from mingling guests could be heard. Putting everything else aside, they were both looking forward to this evening as one of new, affirmative experiences; but, each for different reasons and with different expectations.

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A Nagini and Severus Tale