slyther_in | FIC: Holding on like grim death

Author: Ejab
Characters: Lucius, Narcissa and Severus
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: a true gift and highly appreciated
Disclaimer: alas, JK Rowling owns them. I merely play with them.
Warnings: character death
Summary: the harsh realities of life.
A/N: betas were Stuka and Sparky. I would be lost without them.
This was written before DH so technically there aren’t any spoilers. But to be on the safe side - beware, there might be a spoiler!

Holding on like grim death.

Three years in Azkaban. Under remand. A lot of people had every intention of making Lucius’ life a living hell anyway they could.

Those same people would happily forget to give him a trial and just keep him locked away. The public opinion would be in their favour. Who cared about a Death Eater not having a fair trial? Reformed? Malfoy? Who cared? Or believed it?

Ah, but they had all overlooked one important force.

Narcissa.

She had made sure that his case was kept in the public eye. Officials hated public reminders of their atrocities. Especially when, ever so slowly, Narcissa managed to get more and more of the remaining aristocracy on her side. After which the first couple of ‘anonymous Ministry officials’ joined them. In the last year, the public opinion was slowly shifting in Narcissa’s favour.

She had taken her time to build her case and work the public opinion but in the end, victory was hers. Theirs.

Intelligent, persistent, politically skilled and always portraying herself as a strong, proud woman. Not the poor victimised wife who’d lost her husband. No, she was clever enough to never make that mistake.

It resulted in Lucius falling in love with his wife all over again. She had fought for him every day of the past three years. Never wavering. Never giving up.

Even now, back home and recovering from his Azkaban nightmare, Lucius felt his love for her increasing. He was difficult company at present. Nobody came out of Azkaban without scars. Especially mentally.

Instead of complaining or showing impatience, Narcissa went out of her way to gently coax him back into their safe little world. She gave him distance if he suddenly felt overwhelmed with his new found freedom and became unreasonable or obstinate. Other times she simply offered him her lap to rest his head while comforting him as she stroked his hair. She was there for him. Always. Regardless of the time of day or night.

Like today. He had felt restless and irritable from the moment he woke. A walk around the estate had not calmed him down and standing on the front lawn Lucius still felt the urge to scream and yell at the world. He stared at the stables, wondering if a ride would do him any good, when his wife came to stand next to him.

“Go and pay the man a visit, Lucius,” Narcissa said.

“What are you talking about?” He gave her a quick look before staring at the stables again.

“You miss your best friend. Go and see him.” She placed a hand on his lower back.

“Is he still? He only came to visit me during the first half year of my imprisonment. I haven’t seen or heard from him since. Have you?”

Narcissa smiled. “I think nobody has. Maybe he has finally given in to his hermit tendencies.”

Lucius turned to face his wife, gently taking her hands in his. “You are a remarkable woman, did you know that?”

“Of course. I managed to keep you interested in me, even after a marriage of eighteen years.”

“You most certainly have.” Lucius placed a soft kiss on her forehead before pulling her in for a hug.

“Go.” All too soon Narcissa gave him a playful slap on his left buttock and stepped back.

“Are you –”

“Lucius. You are in pain because you need answers. Go.”

She was right. As always. The moment Severus’ monthly visits had stopped, Lucius had been tormented by a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. Fear that Severus might have given up on him, abandoned him and their special relationship. After the fear came the anger, then resentment. He had even tried hatred. It would have made it all so much more bearable if he could hate Severus. It had been a pathetic attempt, though. He could not hate him. Not Severus.

“You really are –” She insisted on him seeing Severus? Narcissa?

“Just go, Lucius.” Narcissa turned and walked back into the manor.

Astonished at his wife’s selfless act Lucius closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed with love and admiration for this proud beautiful woman he had the privilege to call his wife.

He did not look back before Apparating. If he had done so, Lucius may have noticed Narcissa’s scared look as she watched him go.

~*~

Spinner’s End was as uninviting as he remembered but for once Lucius couldn’t care less. He went straight to Severus’ house and rang the bell. Twice. Nothing happened. Disappointment and hurt were starting to raise their unwelcome heads when after the third ring the door finally opened slightly.

“Severus?” Lucius still couldn’t see anybody.

“Lucius?” The familiar voice came from inside the house.

“Severus? What –”

A moment of silence before the familiar voice hesitantly spoke again.

“Close the door behind you.”

Lucius did as he was asked and stepped into the living room. His heart fell. The whole room seemed to be dominated by an old ram shackle bed. In it lay an unmistakably very ill Severus.

“Severus? What in Merlin’s name –”

“Good to see you too, Lucius. I’ve read about your release.” Severus pointed at the pile of Daily Prophets next to his bed before placing his wand back on the blanket again.

“You are seriously ill.” It was a foolish comment to make but Lucius found it hard, if not impossible, to think clearly at this point.

“Hence my lack of visits. I apologise.” Severus tried to chuckle but ended up wheezing for air. When he finally managed to breathe somewhat properly again, Severus’ trembling right hand pointed in the direction of the kitchen.
“Self-catering, I’m afraid,” he whispered.

“Severus… ” Lucius still had trouble processing the shock as he pulled up a chair next to the bed. “What happened? What is wrong with you?”

“Potions Masters never grow old, Lucius.” Severus smiled a tired smile. “It’s a lethal profession in more ways than one.”

“No!” Lucius fiercely shook his head. Maybe Severus had given up, he most certainly would not. “Why aren’t you at St. Mungo’s?”

Severus gave him a pointed glare before showing his own Dark Mark. Faded but there still the same.

“Who’s giving you medical care then?”

“Oh, Lucius.” Severus managed a weak smile. “At times your approach to life is still refreshingly naïve.”

Lucius didn’t listen; distracted as he was by an overpowering stench his senses had apparently refused to acknowledge until this moment. The realisation that came with it almost ripped his heart to pieces.

Stupid, stubborn, proud Severus.

He rose. “Are there any items you’d like to bring along? Certain books perhaps?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You are coming with me. If you don’t agree, I suggest you run.”

“You bastard.” Severus angrily glared at him.

“Last change. Books?”

“Narcissa will just love you for this.”

~*~

Apparating probably hadn’t been the wisest thing to do. Lucius realised it the moment they Apparated into the best guest room and Severus collapsed the moment his feet touched the ground.

“Severus?” Lucius was dragged down to the floor along with his friend. “Severus?”
Closed eyes, an alarmingly bluish skin tone and no signs of breathing; for a moment panic took over.

Lucius slapped him in the face. Hard. “SEVERUS! DON’T YOU DARE! SEVERUS!”

After the third slap, Severus’ upper body twitched and his breathing started again.
Watching the bluish skin tone disappear, Lucius calmed down.

“Lucius?” Narcissa opened the door in bewilderment. “Severus? What is he-?”

“Later, Narcissa. Please. Call our healer; it’s an emergency.” He would have preferred to bathe his friend before their healer arrived but moving Severus seemed to be a very bad idea at this point.
He listened to his wife making the floo call and shortly after that Healer Mannering appeared in the room.

“Oh my…” He simply sent Lucius and Narcissa out of the room before closing the door.

“Lucius?” The accusation was hidden in her tone of voice although Narcissa, civilised as she was, expertly made it sound like a worry. Lucius wasn’t fooled, though.

“He is ill, Narcissa. I couldn’t just leave him there, lying in his own…” Lucius gave her a pained look. “Nobody was taking care of him. Nobody.”

Narcissa wisely refrained herself from criticising her husband’s action and simply nodded.
“I’ll be in the lounge.”

Lucius barely registered his wife leaving; he stood transfixed with fear. Severus was ill. Extremely ill. What would he do if – no! He would not think of that possibility. Mannering was here now. Severus would get the best care in the world and –

“Lucius?”

Apparently quite some time had passed, Lucius noticed. The lights in the hallway had activated themselves, casting their shadows on the walls. They looked more threatening than usual, it seemed. No, surely that was –

“Lucius?” The calm brown eyes of Healer Mannering appeared in his view.

Lucius straightened his back. “How is he?”

“Holding on. Quite miraculously, I might add.”

“Yes, Severus is very strong. If anyone can overcome –”

“No, Lucius.” Mannering was never the man to give or feed false hope. “Do not blind yourself with the impossible.”

Lucius stared at his healer, unable to decide if he wanted to curse the man or beg him to check again.

“Don’t deny what you already know. Your friend is –”

“DON’T SAY THAT! YOU WILL NOT SAY THAT!”

For one short moment Mannering feared that the fist was aimed at his head. That was until he heard the sound of wood splintering; Lucius had punched a hole in the door the healer was standing next to.

“Damnit, this is –” Face twisted in rage, Lucius’ eyes already looked for another potential object to hurt.

“Stop it.” His voice stern, Mannering undauntedly grabbed Lucius by his shoulder and slapped him in the face. “You will listen to me, Lucius.”

The slap in the face did the trick. Lucius stared at his healer, too shocked to be angry.

“You hit me!”

“You dissolved into hysterics,” Mannering said, not in the least afraid of retaliations. He had treated Lucius when the boy had suffered from nappies rash, the measles and all those other diseases children experienced. As far as he was concerned, the man in front of him was a very, very scared boy.

Mannering sat down on the thick red carpet. “Sit with me.”

“I’m not seven any more.” Lucius remembered the times he and Mannering had sat on the floor on several places in the manor. The boy Lucius had always felt excitement doing something so unheard of to do. It had felt forbidden and even rebellious somehow. Not to mention the distinct feeling of bonding; something he instinctively had craved. Yearned for.

“I know. Sit with me.” It had been Mannering’s successful way to provide the boy with consolation and at least some affection then and it still was his way now.

“You are impossible.” Lucius the man obeyed and joined him the same way the boy had done; with a theatrical sigh, trying to give Mannering the impression he only did it to humour the man.

They shared the silence, Lucius engrossed in his thoughts and Mannering patiently waiting.

Lucius finally spoke. “I’m scared.” Even his voice sounded like the boy again – soft and tentative, as if admitting to experiencing emotions was something to be ashamed of.

Damn that Abraxas.

Placing a hand on Lucius’ nearest knee, Mannering gave a comforting squeeze there.
Lucius closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face.

“Does he - did you speak with him?”

“No. I gave him a Sleeping Draught. The man is exhausted, Lucius. He needs all the rest he can get.” Mannering rose, gratefully accepting Lucius’ assistance in doing so. “I will send a nurse the moment I’m back at my office. He needs intensive care.”

“Thank you.” Lucius managed a faint smile.

“Call me if you need me. And that includes a sympathetic ear.” Mannering took two steps before slowly turning around. “Days, Lucius. I give him a day or two. Just so you know.”

~*~

A day after Severus had arrived; Narcissa was no longer able to resist temptation. Ill or not, it bothered her to know he was in her house. Taking up all of Lucius time. Again.
Jealousy didn’t listen to reason.
She waited until Lucius had left the guest room and floor before going there herself.

Hollow cheeks, sunken eyes with dark bags under them, a telling greyish blue skin tone, protruding cheekbones – the man’s face was not that of the Severus she knew. This was the face of a fragile, dying man.
The tyranny she had planned to subject him to sank to the bottom of her stomach.

No.

“… me out?”

The weak voice startled Narcissa. Not aware of the fact that she had stopped in the doorway she found herself staring at him.

“I woke you up.”

Severus closed his eyes with a long sigh, too tired to fight or even care.

Narcissa hesitated until a bony hand shakily gestured her to enter the room. She walked inside and took a seat on the chair next to the bed.
After a minute or two, she broke the silence.

“I wanted to,” she softly confessed. “I wanted to scream at you, hurt you –”

“Hate me,” Severus whispered. Although there now was a faint smile on his lips, his eyes remained closed.

“Oh, I hate you.” Narcissa could not suppress the wry chuckle. “I hate you for all those lonely evenings and nights I had to endure, knowing he was with you, and, adding insult to injury, sharing your bed! I hate you because you gave him something I can never give. I hate you for the space you take up in his heart. I hate you for making me feel inadequate. Do you have any idea what that did to me? To know that I was never enough?”

The bony hand gently grabbed her hand. Narcissa was startled into silence.

“We have … same curse.” Sad black eyes stared back at her. “We had… to share him.”

Narcissa was unable to find a reply. How could she? The sincerity of the love between Severus and her husband was, and always had been, unquestionable. A fact. Not open for discussion. Never. Lucius had made that perfectly clear from the beginning. By accepting him as her husband, she was accepting his liaison with Severus.

She remembered thinking how easy it would be to compete with a man. Oh, how naive had she been! To this day, the bond these two men shared was an unfathomable mystery to her.

Never, though, had it occurred to her that Severus might share her pain.

As realisation dawned, she went pale. For the first time in her life, Narcissa felt some sympathy for Severus.

“Every time his eyes stray off, when he stands in front of a window staring into space, starts to get restless… ”

“… is secret… ly amused,” Severus mumbled, obviously short of breath.

“Yes.” He knew. Damn, he knew. Feeling oddly displaced, Narcissa frowned. She studied Severus’ hand on hers. “I still hate you, though.” It felt wrong to say to a dying man but she had to. It was the truth, death or no death.

“Yes.” The hand fell out of her lap and dangled over the edge of the bed. Narcissa carefully placed it on the blanket, examining the closed eyes and half open mouth as she listened to his shallow breathing.

“Mrs Malfoy, please.” The nurse entered the room, holding two vials and a wand in her left hand and a glass of water in the other.

“If you will excuse me?” Pointedly ignoring the look the nurse was giving her, Narcissa rose and went looking for her husband. She found him in the living room.

“Ah, there you are! I’ve been looking all ove-”

“He’s so weak. Can hardly talk any more.” Lucius stared out of the window, as he always did that when something bothered him. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear that Mannering expects Severus to die within a day or two.”

“You could not have been more mistaken.” Narcissa came to stand behind him, put her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his back.

A scornful laugh escaped him.

“I mean it, Lucius. I am scared. Scared it will send you into despair. Scared that I will not be able to reach you there, that you may not want me to.”

“But you’ll not be sorry that Severus will be dead.”

“Stop it.” Narcissa let go and stepped in front of her husband. “My heart is for the living. Or, to be more precise, for my husband and my son. You two are all that matter to me.”
She tried to cup his face with her hands but Lucius pushed her hands away.

“You’ll know where to find me.” Without giving his wife so much as a glance, Lucius left the room.

~*~

Narcissa. Her mere presence was a brutal reminder of the man he was mourning. Since Severus was dying, Narcissa seemed to have lost her appeal. Maybe that was only to be expected, a logical reaction to his upcoming loss?

He didn’t know.

All Lucius knew was that seeing his wife equalled feeling raw emotions. More disturbingly, her presence angered him. It felt like she didn’t have the right to be there. To be alive. Not when it meant losing Severus. As if she was to blame for his death.

Did this mean he loved Severus over Narcissa? Again, Lucius didn’t know. They both were able to give him what he needed, longed for, in their own specific ways. They were also the only persons strong enough to stand up against him.

Severus with his devious mind, confident, masterful and in control of any situation. Loving to put others down, repress and snub them. Subtle with fine distinctions. Possessing a ruthless and cunning wit, he was rarely caught off guard by any comment or insult, often leaving his verbal combatants with little to say.

Sarcastic, stubborn, fascinating, loving Severus.

The man without friends. Even at school. Oh, he would hang around Lucius’ in crowd but always remained elusive. The boy had fascinated him from day one and it had taken Lucius many, many years before Severus had considered him trustworthy and not an enemy, possibly a friend even.

Oh, how Severus had tested his patience and loyalty! He’d always felt the need to test Lucius’ sincerity. Even years after they had started their passionate relationship, Severus would test their bonds.

It had forced Lucius to be on his guard, learn to read Severus’ every movement. It sharpened his mind, challenged his intelligence

Lucius stared down on his lover. Five days ago, when he had picked him up from Spinner’s End, Severus was weak yet talkative. The last two days, however, all he did was sleep or just lay there with his eyes closed. It was getting hard to tell whether he was awake or not. Could his health weaken at such an alarming rate?

“You don’t even try any more.” With a flash of insight, Lucius realised the truth.

Severus sighed.

“Why don’t you try? Do you want to die? Answer me, you fucking idiot!” Lucius did not even try to conceal his anger. He had every right to be angry!

Severus produced a weak smile.

“Don’t you smile! Don’t you dare smil-“

“Lucius, if I may have a word?” Mannering appeared in the doorway.

For a moment, Lucius felt like a boy caught stealing cookies. Taking a deep breath, he joined his healer in the hallway.

“I apologise. It’s just that… I’m worried like never before and he smiles so infuriatingly calm that it-“

“Ah, but you forget one important detail, Lucius,” Mannering said. “It is all still relatively new for you. Of course you are feeling angry, powerless and obstinate. Severus, on the other hand, has fought his demons. Had time to accept his faith. And truth be told, I suspect he feels so ill that he probably welcomes death by now.”

Lucius opened his mouth to protest, argue, anything. Only to realise there was no point. For once, there wasn’t a damn thing a Malfoy could do to make a difference. To influence destiny.

“FUCK!” He left Mannering standing and fled to the stables. A snapped order and the stable boy prepared his favourite horse.

Soon Lucius sought refuge on the open fields behind the manor, the stormy wind in his hair and muffling his shouts of despair and impotent rage.

No longer able to deny his lover’s upcoming death, raw reality hit home with such an overwhelming power that he’d have preferred somebody ripping his lungs out of his body without any sedation whatsoever. It was too much. Simply too much

He had known for several days. Why did it hit him this hard now? Why did it feel like he only now understood it? Truly understood?

What made everything so much more worse was the knowledge that Severus had been forced to come to terms with his illness and upcoming death on his own.

Lying in his bed, knowing he was dying. Alone. So weak that he avoided using magic unless there was no other option; therefore giving up on basic hygiene or cleaning spells of any kind for that matter. By the looks of things, he had also refused to summon food or water from his kitchen the last days before Lucius had come.

No one to talk to, to share his fears with, to comfort or hold him, look after him.

“Oh Merlin, I’m such a fool.” Lucius suppressed the urge to slap himself against his head. That was what that infuriating smile had been all about! Of course!

Severus now had it all; his lover keeping him company, holding him, talking to him, caressing him where it was still possible… Lucius was there and that was all that mattered to Severus.

He had waited for Lucius. Now Lucius was here, he could stop fighting the inevitable.
As he shouted his order, Lucius spurred the horse forward suddenly.

He would go back to give his lover what he wanted. Needed. Deserved.

“It’s starting to smell like St Mungo’s in here,” Lucius greeted his lover twenty minutes later. “Wait.” Summoning his favourite body lotion, he sat down on the edge of the bed, gently caressing some of it on Severus’ face.

The mixed aroma of sandalwood and grape-stone oil slowly chased away the typical disinfectant, sterile odour.

Severus hummed, managing a smile.

“Much better.” Lucius took his time. There was hardly anything left he could do to comfort his lover. Caressing his face and hair was about the only intimacy they had left. He savoured every moment of it.

In addition, by the look of it, so did Severus. He was definitely smiling, giving himself over to the touching. Relaxing more and more with each passing second.

“Sleep if you want to. I’ll stay right here.” Lucius moved to the head of the bed, gently lifting Severus’ head until it was resting on his lap.

“Your personal pillow. Good?”

A satisfied hum was all the answer he got but it was enough. Lucius’ fingers started stroking the black hair, painfully aware this could be one of the last times he might be able to do so.

The very thought of it made him feel sick.

Banning the thought out of his mind, he forced himself to focus on the heated voices from downstairs. Apparently, Narcissa and Draco were mixed up in one of their pet arguments.

Normally he would ignore it, knowing it was mostly sparring. This time, however, it triggered unexpected anger, to the point of rage.

How dare they live on like normal, as if nothing was happening? How dare the world go on like before? It all gave him a strange sense of unreality. At the same time, it seemed to throw reality back into his face. Merciless.

Biting his lip, Lucius looked down. Severus was sleeping. He could leave now.

He did not.

Instead, he continued caressing his lover’s face and hair, making sure to stay aware of the weight on his thighs. He needed to feel the weight. It meant Severus was still here.

Every four or five hours, Lucius added a new layer of lotion on Severus’ face.
His lover no longer reacted.
He was leaving.

~*~

Severus died six days after coming to Malfoy Manor.

No famous last words, emotional gestures or theatrical last breath; he simply stopped breathing.

Some say Lucius died with him.

Narcissa agrees with that

Lucius hardly speaks any more. His eyes dull or, when returning from the grave, filled with pain so deep that she cannot stand looking at them.

Oh, he meets all his obligations and spends the necessary time on the administrative duties that comes with family, estate and business affairs but it is not Lucius doing so.
At home, he shuts himself up in his study, walks around the estate, and goes for long rides on his favourite horse – anything to seclude himself from contact with other people.

He was supposed to go to disbelief and anger. To move on to the next stage of mourning.

Instead, he clutches a Pensieve against his chest.

In her dreams, Narcissa manages to bypass the self-inflicted barrier Lucius has put up.
She frees him of his grief and self-pity, no longer allowing the past to keep him hostage. Poison him. Immobilise him.

In her dreams, Lucius tells her he had two wonderful lovers. One has gone. Seeing the one left, he is reminded of the one he has lost. At that point, she always gives him a warm smile, explaining to him that punishing the one left doesn’t bring back the one he has lost.

In her dreams, she insures him that he can show all of his pain and despair to her. Share with her. After which he finally breaks down and indeed shares it all with her.

Everything.

In reality, he clutches a Pensieve against his chest.