If there was one mortal he'd met whose pride could equal his own, that mortal was Snape. For the past few months Lezard had made himself scarce, having good and less-than-good reasons of his own. The rapid departure of Hermione and sudden ascension of Ofdensen could not be allowed to pass without some token of condolence to Snape, however.
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"Please, come in." He opened the door wide, recognising the courtesy and smiling to it in thanks. "An old friend has arrived. She is in the bath."
He smiled and knew he would have to apologise for his recent black mood and avoidance.
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"Welcome and thank you, especially for the tea." He smiles. The smile is genuine, grateful and warm. He gestures. "Narcissa, this is my friend, Lezard Valeth. He is a brilliant wizards with the power of a god. He is Slytherin, of course.
He gestures to Narcissa. "Lezard, this is Narcissa Malfoy, one of my oldest friends as is her husband, Lucius. She would be the archetype of a Slytherin witch, were there such an archetype." That should tell Lezard everything, he thinks.
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Lezard replaced his spectacles and peered up at the woman. "I should rise to greet you. Forgive me." She looked ... not young, but well-kept. Well-maintained, he thought, with the beginnings of a hysterical giggle threatening to bubble up. Suppressing his response, he leaned toward the tea tray that the Lady Malfoy had just thoughtfully placed on the low table between them. The movement occluded any expression that might contort his face.
With shallow sips of treacly tea he recomposed himself. "Any friend of Professor Snape must be an estimable person, so I am delighted to make your acquaintance. He does not suffer fools gladly, our Professor."
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"That can be said of most Slytherins. I think Severus must be remarkable in his patience. To teach all Hogwarts' students cannot have been pleasant." By all, she meant including the mudbloodsAll the while, she was carefully avoiding an appearance of scrutiny toward the young man's magical injury, if that was what it was. When he had reached for his teacup, his sleeve had fallen to cover whatever mark Severus had been treating, and that made her task simpler ( ... )
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