A Chance for Light

Interlude

Lucius returned to see Sirius again, some hours after seeing Snape out, and found the young man reeling on the brink of unconsciousness, kept awake only by the need to relieve the stress on his shoulders. Having been bound in that position as a boy as punishment – although only for an hour or two at a time - Lucius could imagine full well the pain Sirius was in.

A grunt coming from beneath the mop of shaggy black hair was the only protest Lucius encountered as he released Sirius, dragged him to a wall, and restrained him in a much more comfortable position, relatively speaking. He could now move as he wished within a two-metre radius until he was stopped by a shiny metal chain around his ankle. It was, of course, slightly phosphorescent as a result of all the enchantments on it: guarding against wandless magic and serving as an alarm system notifying Lucius of any crucial changes in Sirius’ condition.

“There we go, Black.” Lucius stepped back and admired his handiwork, as Sirius leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes in exhaustion. “I’ve decided to grant you a reprieve. A second chance, if you will, to make amends after your little outburst in front of Severus.”

“You should know I don’t amend anything with murderers,” answered Sirius, eyes still shut as though willing the man before him to disappear. Lucius ignored the comment and snapped his fingers, which caused a house elf to appear with food and water. Sharp grey eyes fluttered open at the scent and Sirius didn’t waste any time. He had devoured it by the time Lucius conjured a chair for himself. He sat, facing Sirius who now had drawn up his knees and leaned casually on them with his arms dangling down and one eyebrow raised. It seemed to Lucius a comical ‘thank you’ and question in one.

“You know, I have always had somewhat of an interest in you, Black,” began Lucius once more, his long-fingered hands pale in his lap. “After all, you are my wife’s cousin. I have heard stories of your exploits at Hogwarts from Severus and others in your year.”

“The greasy git’s account would be a little biased,” interrupted Sirius with a slight smirk on his face as he looked up at Lucius. Surprisingly, his smirk was returned in an almost collaborative way.

“I have always felt that Snape thinks too highly of himself, even for a pureblood. I’m sure there are many amusing incidents that he has neglected to tell of.”

Sirius was confused with this latest conversational turn of events, and having been thrown off guard didn’t know how to react. He covered it with nonchalance and decided angering Lucius could wait for later. Food and freedom of movement, however limited, were a definite kindness from a Death Eater such as sat before him.

“I’ve a feeling you didn’t come down here for a chat, Malfoy,” said Sirius. “Have a wee bit of a spat with the missus?”

Lucius sneered in response. “I am not sure what you wish to accomplish with this constant wisecracking. You are far too animalistic, Black. Your emotions practically bleed out of you.” He sighed. “I suppose it must be that horrid Gryffindor upbringing.”

“What a typical response from your kind – hypocritical, biased, and discriminatory!” snapped Sirius before he could help himself. His nostrils flared slightly but he maintained his casual position, although Lucius noticed his muscles had tensed instinctively. He chuckled.

“I had no idea you were in possession of such an extensive vocabulary.”

“I had no idea Death Eaters spent their days in dungeons, psychoanalyzing their prisoners of war,” Sirius retorted hotly. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

Lucius straightened coldly. “Apparently a civil conversation is too much to ask.” His eyes narrowed. “I am trying to understand why you insist on dying a blood traitor. You know the Dark Lord will be here shortly to get the information you keep. Then you will be useless; discarded of without a backwards glance. You may be a wizard of some repute, but do not for a moment think that you will be granted a reprieve.”

Sirius laughed darkly. “Alright, for the second time now, I really didn’t know you cared.” He ran a hand through his raven hair. “It’s disconcerting, to say the least. You’ve managed to resist cursing me yourself for quite a while now.”

“You are such a fool, Black!” Lucius’ feathers were definitely ruffled, and Sirius had to admit it was an enjoyable sight. At least, considering the lack of any other forms of entertainment he currently had access to. “The Dark Lord has specifically ordered me to limit my services to keeping you here. I am not doing this out of kindness.” The last word tumbled from his lips as though it were bile. Lucius, for his part, was fighting the shock he felt at the power Sirius, a wandless prisoner, held in their verbal sparring.

“Well give me a bloody clue here then, Malfoy! Just what in blazes are you doing here trying to have a ‘civil conversation’ with me for?”

“For your own damn good!” exclaimed Lucius in complete surprise that Sirius hadn’t managed to figure it out for himself. “Are you daft? Do you not comprehend the Dark Lord’s power and how he intends to use it on you? Don’t you wish to escape such a fate?”

“Of course I do, you sodding wanker,” Sirius sighed in exasperation. “I can see where this is going, Malfoy, so I’m warning you not to even try.”

“I am trying to do you a great kindness, Black. You are a very talented wizard and your strength could be used well if only you could be made to embrace your heritage.” Lucius spoke matter-of-factly but in earnest, and Sirius shivered as he realized that the Death Eater before him truly believed he could turn his prisoner into a Death Eater. His face hardened and a growl resonated deep in his throat as silence stretched between the two wizards.

“I would rather die,” he spat. “And the moment you give me back my wand I will kill you.”

Lucius smiled tightly. “Well, we can’t have both. I would rather you didn’t die, personally, as I feel your talents could be put to much better use. I will simply have to resort to other measures, and I am sure the Dark Lord will approve of my plan once I have spoken with him.”

Sirius pursed his lips, wondering silently what ‘other measures’ could possibly mean. He hadn’t been aware that Death Eaters were creative enough to come up with anything more elaborate than the Cruciatus.

“Well, don’t let me keep you,” was all he finally said. “I’m sure you have pressing business, and I have much languishing to do.” He managed to elicit a smirk from Lucius, who stood without another word and left the dungeon. Alone again in relative silence, Sirius sighed, and tried not to jump to conclusions about Lucius’ cryptic comment.

--

Lucius could hear a rushing in his ears as he approached Voldemort and kneeled silently, hiding any nervousness he felt with Malfoy grace. He had of course proposed plans to the Dark Lord before, but nothing so unorthodox and unexpected. Voldemort was known to be rather volatile when his followers deviated from their usual behaviour.

“Rise, Malfoy,” Voldemort ordered impatiently. “Why have you come?”

“My Lord, in hosting Black I have come across a great possibility, an idea which I believe would please you,” began Lucius, summoning a conspiratorial smile and outlining his idea in great clarity, trying in vain to gauge the dark wizard’s reaction.

Finally he heard Voldemort chuckle quietly, something far more frightening to Lucius than his usual maniacal laughter.

“You prove your worth as a Malfoy with these cunning plots you suggest, Lucius,” was Voldemort’s response. Lucius felt his heart nearly skip a beat at the sound of the Dark Lord using his first name in connection with praise.

Life in Malfoy Manor was about to get much more interesting.