Yearbooks for Hogwarts Houses were published on a yearly basis for Hogwarts students by Flourish & Blotts. They also tended to be rather on the expensive side, so students rarely purchased a yearbook for every year that they were at the prestigious witchcraft and wizardry school.

Needless to say, Lucius Malfoy was in the Great Library at Malfoy Manor studying his collection of the old, over-priced yearbooks. Draco was at Fairwinds starting his apprenticeship today so Lucius had Sophie with him who was nearby reading one of Draco's old fairy tale books. It was a large one that had beautiful pop-up images upon each page, and nearly dwarfed the little girl. As her father flipped slowly through the pages of each yearbook, he was distracted now and then by a high giggle, or a clapping of hands.

Ollivander's daughter was still an enigma to Lucius. He had gone twice to the wandmaker's shop in the hopes of seeing the young woman, but she was nowhere to be seen, and Ollivander, that old curmudgeon, had expressed puzzlement at Lucius' inquiries.

Just as he was about to write the young woman off as an unsolvable mystery, a letter had arrived by raven the day before.

Dearest Lucius,

I sincerely hope you've not written me off as a figment of your imagination. Trust me, I am quite real. (Lucius was certain he could hear her bell-like laughter.)

You had many things taking your attention away from one, quiet Slytherin, not to mention that almost immediately were you snapped up by the Ice Princess.

I never was one to pine over any boy, at least not until I saw you that day as you flew your Comet 3000 during the Slytherin/Gryffindor match our third year. I remember it was the first broom you'd ever bought for yourself and it seemed you had that out every spare moment. I think you would have carried it to meals, had Professor Slughorn not stopped you.

But, yes, I do remember you during that game. Such grace! As the Seeker for Slytherin you really were a sight to watch and I could have cared less if our House won or lost, just as long as I could watch you on your broom.

I once saw Draco flying during a Slytherin/Gryffindor game, and although the boy was very good, he was not as good as his father.

I do hope that does not offend, and thus change your opinion of me.

So, I wrote in the hopes of reminding you that I was a real presence at Hogwarts.

During our seventh year, my father, afraid of Voldemort's growing power, sent me back to my mother to keep me safe. I so rarely saw him. He had already passed his skill of wandmaking onto me and I was not permitted to return to the Wizarding World until the death of the mad wizard.

Have I thought of you since our third year?

A question any young man would desire to hear as a positive.

I'll let you guess, since I do not believe you to be the egotistic, arrogant young Pureblood you once were.

Sincerely,

(And here it was signed with a tiny flourish in black that was a wand that emitted purple sparks.) ~~

Lucius did remember that game mentioned in the lovely witch's letter. He also remembered that Comet 3000. He'd slept with the damn thing until someone told him how foolish he was being.

Narcissa had not come to that game. She'd never been overly fond of Quidditch and would only come to support him if he begged her to. By their third year, he'd quite grown tired of Narcissa's need for him to beg and when she informed him of the tea she was holding for the elite girls of Slytherin that afternoon, he hadn't thought twice about leaving the "Ice Princess" to her tea.

Even without Narcissa there, Lucius had recalled that it had been a challenging game. It had lasted almost three hours and not only had he caught the Snitch, but Slytherin had amassed a tight score against Gryffindor: they beat the Gryffs by one point!

With the third year yearbook on his lap, he fondly flipped for a fourth time through the pages that recorded that particular game. Three times he had spotted Ollivander's daughter as she was cheering on her House team in the stands.

However, the photographer that day, apparently had an eye for the girls and had taken as many photographs of Slytherin and Gryffindor beauties as he had of the game itself. It was a photo he'd overlooked his first and second time through as his memories had been too intent on the game.

She had stopped on the landing by the announcer's booth and as other students streamed steadily past her, she had her eyes upon the Slytherin team as they circled the pitch triumphantly. The bite in the air had reddened her cheeks and she'd been warmly wrapped in an old-style long coat that hugged her somewhat plush figure. Hardly one of the thin beauties that Lucius had remarked now and again back then to friends as girls needing a meal or three to hide their protrusion of bones. The young girl's curves had no doubt enchanted and enflamed a young boy's fantasies. Unfortunately, Lucius still could not recall the girl herself.

No. Lucius had never seen her then, and wanted to kick himself for not having done so. At the very least, he would have had even more fantasies to join the ones that occupied his lonely nights now.

Those fantasies were sent right back to the dark corners of his very adult mind as his daughter made her presence known by jumping onto his lap and pushing the yearbook away.

"I'm hungry, papa!" she announced.

Lucius burst into a roar that sent Sophie giggling and squealing as she scrambled away from her father. He gave chase until they both collapsed somewhere on the first floor. Lucius took his daughter into the big, empty kitchen that was without house elfs, and began to fix them both lunch.

It was then that Lucius decided a letter to the Headmaster was needed.

Draco tried not to complain.

He really couldn't. Not with Harry sitting a few feet away with a grin on his face as he expertly squeezed the vile, gelatinous Bubotuber Pus from the Bubotubors in a crate beside him.

It wasn't that he was doing anything gross. He really wouldn't have minded, but he was preparing potion ingredients. Since eight-thirty that morning. It was now going on towards one in the afternoon and not only was he hungry, but he was damned tired of all these ingredients.

Had he been much younger, chances are he would have complained, but he'd been warned by his godfather that his apprenticeship for the first year was going to be abysmally dull. There were, of course, lessons, practicals, and even essays, and lots and lots of reading, but most of that was in the evening.

Draco wanted to brew. He also wanted to learn more about his godfather's potions business. He had let Severus know that at some point he wanted to have his own apothecary. That is, if he didn't choose to teach. That was still a possibility as Headmaster Dumbledore had even promised the position to him when he completed his masters. Severus, of course, had lauded both ambitions and had lectured upon the pros and cons of each. Until then, most of the work was drudgery.

"Draco?" Severus called from the opposite end of the lab.

"Yes, Master Snape?" he replied, using the traditional honorific between apprentice and master.

"I need to continue work on this batch of Wolfsbane. Would you mind instructing Tabitha in how to brew Pepper-Up Potion?" He asked as he glanced slyly at the ten-year old at his side.

Draco practically beamed. Pepper-Up Potion was a first years potion, but to be asked to teach it was just what he was looking for to divert him from the drudgery of preparing potions ingredients. "Yes, sir!" he said, trying his best to curb his evident enthusiasm. "I'll just clean up, and then we'll get started."

A few minutes later Tabitha was seated upon a stool with her notebook and quill nearby. Draco had already quizzed her about the potion and had discovered that the little girl had indeed read thoroughly about the potion itself and its ingredients.

Severus could brew Wolfsbane in his sleep, and that included this latest permutation that he'd been working on under Remus Lupin's financing. He had managed to suppress the change on the night of the full moon, but it wasn't a cure and it meant that the witch or wizard suffering from the affliction had to drink the potion during the entire cycle of the full moon. The potion was costly, and therefore cost prohibitive for most sufferers.

As the Potions Master brewed the Wolfsbane, he listened to Draco instructing Tabitha and looked up every few minutes to watch the young man supervising his student.

Draco was confidant; something he'd never really been lacking, but he had a strong presence as an instructor. Draco was attentive, yet firm, and caught Tabitha before she made mistakes. The luxury Draco quickly discovered with one student meant that he was able to impart his knowledge in a more relaxed manner than what Severus had dealt with during his time as a teacher.

Severus wasn't sure about Draco running an apothecary as such an endeavor would take away from regular brewing of potions; something that Severus knew Draco truly loved. The young Malfoy had shown, even at an early age, not just an aptitude for potions, but a creativity, as well. Granted, an unfortunate amount of the time his creativity created headaches for the Gryffindors as he sabotaged their potions in class. What he could never admire, even with his supposed favoring of his own House, was that Draco, when he sabotaged a potion, always knew what he was doing. If his intention was to cause a minor explosion or boiling over, he knew just how to do it so that no one was ever hurt.

The Guild of Potions Masters wasn't a robust one as creativity in a Master of Potions was a requirement. Many had the aptitude for potions, but few had the creativity that the truly talented had. Severus was pleased that Draco was one of those and felt that with a position at Hogwarts the young man would have access to the private lab Severus had sealed on his resignation. The current Potions instructor, not a master, had no idea the private lab even existed.

Since Severus had Draco for the next four years he would be able to subtly nudge the young man in that direction. Unless, of course, Draco's heart was truly set upon an apothecary shop.

On the day that Fairwinds was preparing for an onslaught of children for Harry's eighth birthday, Lucius received a much anticipated reply from the Headmaster to the letter he had penned in regards to Ollivander's daughter.

My dear Lucius,

How you've taken me back with your reminiscences of your years at Hogwarts. And yes, aside from all our unfortunate encounters with Tom Riddle, they were quite good years.

I am rather intrigued by your mention of Ollivander's daughter. I have always thought it most unfortunate that Narcissa had her sights and her parents had their sights upon the Malfoy name before you even had a chance to explore your own heart. How things might have been different... ah, but then you would not have had Draco, would you? He's turned out so well, Lucius. I'm sure you must be very proud of your young man.

Now, Ollivander's daughter. I would very much like to answer your question, but I actually received a letter from the lady in question several weeks before your own. She anticipated your desire to know her name, and is adamant that you remember her and has requested my silence. You'll be pleased to know that she did provide me with a clue to assist your memory. From her letter:

Headmaster, you may remind Mr. Malfoy of an incident that occurred before the formal announcement of his engagement to Narcissa Black in our fifth year. They had had an argument (one of many that we Slytherins knew of) and Lucius had gone for a walk around the lake.

It was the one and only time that we met.

Rather a fascinating puzzle, isn't it, Lucius? I'm sure you'll remember as Severus has assured me that your memories have all returned, for better or for worse.

I expect to hear from you both as to how this turns out,

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Lucius deliberately folded the letter slowly as his lips thinned in frustration. If a letter could twinkle, as the old Headmaster's eyes did, Lucius knew this letter would. And, it irritated him.

"So, she anticipated my inquiry," he muttered softly to himself.

Any thought Lucius might spare for this "one and only" memory, was thrust from his mind as the Floo roared to life. Harry's friends from Primary school spilled forth, escorted by Molly, smiling and already using a Scourgify to remove smudges of soot from her students.

Harry, decked out in a white cotton shirt and dark navy blue shorts and trainers bounded into the living room to greet his friends. He was enthusiastically greeted by all except the Weasley girl. Sarah Weasley, quickly abandoned by her twin, Jared, and remained by the Floo, glaring sullenly. Ever since she had tried to push and bully Harry when they'd first met, Harry had kept a fair distance from the little girl. He shot her a quick glare before returning his attention to his friends. Harry hadn't wanted the bullying girl at his party, but Jared insisted that his twin come, and so Harry had reluctantly agreed.

"Do we get to see your new brother, yet?" piped up Hieronymus "Mouse" Tonks. Still not seeing a growth spurt, he was still the smallest of all the children.

"Siblings aren't really interesting until they can talk," interjected Hamish Madley. He was the tallest, and a rather good-looking, sandy-haired blonde boy. At first, Hamish had seemed stand-offish to Harry, but Hamish had stood up for Harry on several occasions and this was one of the things Harry valued in a friend.

"I just think all babies are sweet," Daniella Spinnet spoke softly. Daniella wore glasses and had long, strawberry blonde, straight hair, and a sprinkling of freckles over her cheeks. She was a bit of a bookworm and Harry had once had a small crush on the pretty little girl, as did Hamish. It was the beefy, brown-haired, cherubic faced Andrew Bulstrode who'd won the girl's heart and as soon as he'd made his hellos, Daniella was at his side.

Molly hugged Harry tightly, smothering him in her embrace. "Happy birthday, Harry! An exciting day, isn't it?"

Harry smiled, "I'm eight! He turned and motioned for everyone to follow him. "My mum's in the parlor!" Fourteen pairs of feet with trainers thundered across the living room floor and into the parlor.

Molly chuckled. "Poor Severus! He's going to have a terrible headache at the end of the day!"

Lucius returned the smile. "Ohh, I think he'll do quite a bit better than any of us expect. Especially with you to help, Molly." He extended his elbow in a courtly manner, "Shall we join the masses, my lady?"

Molly blushed and then took the proffered forearm. Lucius escorted the matriarch of the Weasley clan into the parlor where all the children were now clustered around the crib that held little Nikolas. Echo was answering as many of the questions that were thrown her way while Severus stood sentinel, a solid, dark presence that had been familiar around his Potions students when he taught at Hogwarts. These children, quite used to Harry's imposing looking father, didn't give the dark wizard a second thought. Severus sighed, ever so imperceptibly, but it was caught by Lucius who smirked. Severus glared at the older man.

Fairwinds had become a sugar-high chaos as Harry and his little friends ran in and out of the house too many times for Severus to number. Draco had taken a break from his apprenticeship duties when lunch and then the overly large chocolate cake with its neon purple frosting were served. Lucius had tried to retreat to the basement lab with his son, but a strong, threatening glare from Severus caused both wizards to stay put. Echo, a little too smug at having to take care of their son, Nikolas, had left after lunch and before the cake arrived with a kiss to Harry's cheek, and quick peck to her husband's dour face.

Severus had not even a moment to drop into his chair in the living room when a crash from the library alerted him and caused him to break into an angered run. Stopping short, he found Sarah and Jared, the Percy Weasley twins, in the middle of shards of broken vase.

"Didn't I say that the library was off limits?" he snapped. Sarah let out a squeak, grabbed her brother's hand, and they escaped out the door before the angry, black-clad wizard could do anything horrible to them. They had both been present when Severus had reminded all the children about his lab in the basement and how he could use anything for potions ingredients.

"Really, Severus, was that necessary?" asked Molly who repaired the vase effortlessly and replaced it on its short pedestal.

"All I said was that the library was off limits," he defended himself.

"Ah, but you implied with your tone that you meant to make good on your threat about 'potions ingredients'," she admonished by wagging a finger at him and smiling good-naturedly.

Severus only scowled deeper. Molly had been invited to help keep the children in line, not keep him from doing anything... he ought not to. "I never implied that!" he snapped, but with much less venom than he'd used on the twins. "They were told to stay out of the library, Molly. And what is Jared's problem that he must fiddle with every breakable in my home? He's already broken a porcelain figurine and an antique bookend given to me by Albus."

"And they repaired rather nicely," smoothed Molly.

"That's not the point!" Severus pinched the bridge of his nose as the headache that had begun an hour ago rose a notch. "My children behave better than this," he interjected petulantly. "Harry and Tabitha will be ruined after this."

Molly patted his now crossed arms as she summoned a Headache Potion she was certain the Potions Master had on hand. As soon as it arrived, she gave it to Severus. "Take this and go and relax for a bit, dear. I'll take the children out in the front yard and we'll have a few games before sending them home." Molly watched as he grudgingly downed the potion and sighed as it began to work. A gentle nudge toward the living room and then she went to find where the laughter and squeals were coming from.

Severus hadn't expected to fall asleep, and in fact, he was certain he hadn't until a gentle nudge to his elbow startled him awake. It was Molly standing over him.

"I've escorted all the children to their homes and Lucius is now putting Sophie, Harry, and Tabitha to bed for a much needed nap, Severus. Are you feeling better?" she asked with full, motherly concern.

Still feeling a bit disoriented, he sat up straighter in his chair. "Er... yes, I am. What time is it, Molly?"

"It just chimed five, Severus," informed Molly. "I need to get home and get dinner ready for Percy and Arthur. It was a truly lovely day, Severus." Molly patted his shoulder and then turned to the Floo where she vanished into green flames.

Severus rose to his feet and made his way up the stairs. Lucius was just tucking in Sophie, so he looked in on his son. Harry was still awake, but he yawned, showing that he truly was ready for a nap before dinner.

"Hi, dad!" Harry smiled and started to wriggle out from under the well-tucked bedclothes, but Severus put a hand to his son's chest and gently pushed him back into place as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Hello, my little eight year old," smiled Severus. "Did you have a good birthday?"

"Oh yeah! It was great, but next year, do you think we could go to the beach? It would be real nice and we wouldn't have to go inside the house at all." Harry grinned beguilingly and Severus smirked. Harry might just turn out to be a Slytherin if he kept bargaining like that.

"We'll see," Severus leaned over and kissed Harry's forehead. "We have a whole year before we need to decide." He smoothed the light summer coverlet over Harry's chest. "I see that you and Sarah Weasley are still deigning not to speak to each other."

"She's mean, dad. Nobody but her own brother talks to her now. Before summer, Sarah told Daniella that she was adopted because neither her mum or dad had red hair like she did an' that was wrong!" Harry huffed in disgust.

"No, that isn't right. You do realise, though, Harry, that Sarah is striking out because she doesn't know how to treat anyone nicely and no one gives her a chance." Severus truly didn't wish to stand up for the disagreeable child, but it was obvious when she stood in corners and watched the other children play without her that she wanted to be part of what they were doing. He had observed her several times this afternoon and had been able to clearly see Sarah's mind working, no doubt thinking up further insults towards the others, but then her hurt would cloud all thoughts of darkness. Sarah longed to be with her brother and his friends, but she felt terribly out of place.

"Then she ought to be nicer," Harry spoke stubbornly.

"Yes, Sarah ought to, but how often are you nice to her?" He watched as Harry shrugged and then picked at the border of his sheet. "Have you even tried since the journals incident?"

"Well..." Harry let out an exasperated sigh. "Not really."

"I want you to try, then, son." At Harry's dark scowl, he held up his hand. "I realise that Sarah is difficult and she's done little to make anyone think that she wishes to be friends," Severus paused as he was reminded how at that age he'd had practically no skill at making friends until he'd met Harry's mother, Lily.

Harry stared up at his father, a bit worried at the odd expression that passed ever so briefly across his father's features. Like he was remembering something that was pleasant, but hurt him to remember. Harry stretched out his small hand to rest over one of his father's calloused, potion stained hands. He was going to ask if his father was all right, but whatever had stopped Severus had gone away.

"Dad?" Since his father hadn't, yet, continued, Harry spoke, "Maybe Sarah doesn't know how to be nice and make friends."

Severus smiled and lightly stroked his insightful son's cheek. "I think that's it, Harry."

Harry snuggled deeper under his covers. His brow furrowed deep in thought and then he asked cautiously, "How come nobody found them right away, dad?" Harry asked thoughtfully, referring to the story his parents had told him of how Sarah and Jared had found a small group of children the night their parents had been killed by Death Eater.

"Sarah and the other children were afraid, son. Of everyone. They had all witnessed something horrible... done by other adults... their trust was shattered."

Six families had been attacked. All the adults had been tortured and killed and four children, one a newborn, had also been killed that night. The others, seven in all, had managed to escape. Sarah and Jared were two of those seven and it was Sarah who had kept them alive for nearly a year before being found by the WCS.

"Sarah had to be bossy. She had to make certain that the other children obeyed her. She was a smart girl that knew how to hide and to keep herself, her brother, and those other children safe," finished Severus.

"Sarah had to be a grown-up," Harry sighed in empathy.

"That she did." Severus pulled the covers up to his son's chin and leaned over to kiss his forehead. "Do you think you might be able to give Sarah another chance?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I'll work on it, dad."

"Good boy," praised Severus. "And, happy birthday, Harry."

Fairwinds was absolutely quiet. Even Nikolas hadn't woken in the night and all the Snapes and Tabitha and Sophie, and even Dobby, were reaping the rewards of deep slumber.

Lucius was wide awake, though. He had re-read Dumbledore's letter over and over again and had reviewed the memories of his fifth year when his bethrothal to Narcissa Black had been formally announced.

Fifth year was the beginning of the end of Lucius' carefree childhood. Voldemort, a very charismatic wizard, was on the rise and gathering followers to him like a Pied Piper weaving a spell with music to steal away children. His mother remained neutral, but his father, Abraxas, who already held a deep prejudice against anyone not Pureblood, was part of Voldemort's Inner Circle. Abraxas, whose beliefs had been watered down by Lucius' mother, now felt he had free reign to groom his son to follow in his footsteps on a path that led to a world ruled by Voldemort and Purebloods.

The Black family was also part of Voldemort's Inner Circle, and Narcissa Black wholly embraced the philosophy that Muggles were a blight upon the wizarding world. Lucius often tried to be polite and listen to Narcissa's pontificating, but it annoyed him and he soon learned to either tune her out, or get into arguments about other, trivial matters instead. It was such an argument that sent him out of the Slytherin common room and outside to cool off.

Lucius liked walking around the lake, even though at this time of the year, late September, it cooled the weather down further than it was elsewhere. Lucius had, thankfully thrown on a wool cloak of dark grey and it kept him warm enough that he didn't need a Warming Spell.

He walked around the lake and had just reached the side furthest from the castle when he heard his name being called. Since he'd been just watching the ground and thinking about... well, everything, he didn't realise how close he was to the person calling him.

He looked down upon a lovely face framed by deep, auburn hair that fell about the witch's shoulders freely. Purple eyes sparkled at him like jewels and his mouth gaped open slightly as he took in this vision.

"Would you help me, Lucius?" she asked.

Mentally he shook himself and shut his mouth. "Uhm, what's wrong?"

She moved right up against his side and he could smell lemon verbena from her hair. His breathing hitched, and very far away in the very back of his mind, a voice reminded him that if Narcissa saw this little tableaux she'd throw a fit. He smiled at that and willingly leaned a bit closer to the lovely witch.

"There. Floating on the water. Can you see it?" she asked, her eyes glittering.

Lucius squinted slightly against the sun that reflected on the still water and then he saw it. "That can't be!" he gasped.

"It is! It's an opal phoenix feather! I want it, but I can't use magic on it. If you hold onto my robe, I might be able to lean over and pluck it off the water."

That seemed logical to Lucius, so he wrapped a fold of the hem of her robes over his fist and braced himself. The witch leaned forward over the water, stretching her hand and her fingers towards the glowing feather that floated upon the surface of the still water.

"A little more slack!" she ordered.

Lucius very carefully released a bit of the robe and the girl slipped forward a bit more precariously out over the water. It was just enough and she was able to snatch the feather up into her hand.

"I have it!" she laughed.

Lucius yanked the witch back and with a yelp she fell back into Lucius. They both stumbled back in a tangle of cloak, robes, arms and legs. In a blink, Lucius looked up to find the pretty girl straddling him, her long hair tickling his neck. She was smiling, breathlessly, and her cheeks were flushed a very lovely rose. Without a thought for Narcissa, Lucius wrapped his arms around the girl, drew her tightly close, and kissed her.

In the very next second, everything went black.

Lucius sat up abruptly in his bed. All around him all the things loose on his dresser and bedside table began to rattle ominously.

"You poisonous creature, Narcissa!" seethed Lucius. "You Obliviated me!"

Severus, drinking his coffee, had not touched his morning paper as he listened to Lucius recount the memories that had returned last night.

"... Narcissa Obliviated me!" concluded Lucius. He glared at the amused smirk on his friend's face.

"Oh come, now," chided Severus. "I think you're rather lucky Narcissa didn't kill you for finding you with another woman. Or worse."

"There's something worse than death, Severus?" asked the older wizard in slight puzzlement.

"Oh yes. Do you recall that hex all the Slytherin girls knew that some of them sometimes used on their boyfriends if they suspected the boy of cheating?"

"Oh, bollocks!" muttered Lucius.

Severus laughed. "That's the one!" Finishing his coffee, he then asked, "So, do you remember her name?"

"Not quite," sighed Lucius. "But, I know where I can find it." A raised eyebrow from Severus silently questioned his friend. Lucius dabbed his napkin at his lips. "I need the day, Severus. Do you need me to call someone to sit the children?"

Severus shook his head. "I have a few contracts to go over today. Draco can take them all through some ingredients prep and I think, during Sophie's nap, he can help them with a potion from Harry's junior potions kit."

With a nod, Lucius stood, summoned his duster and hat, and then took the Floo to the Three Broomsticks. From there he walked to Hogwarts.

Wearing a favorite pair of faded jeans, the boots he almost always wore, a light beige duster, and his cowboy hat, Lucius strode onto the grounds of Hogwarts whistling beneath the sunny day with his hands in his pockets. He didn't flinch as he saw Hagrid's huge boarhound gamboling towards him.

"Fang! 'Ere now! No need ter scare someone what ye know!" shouted Hagrid.

Fang skidded to a halt in front of Lucius who had also stopped. Fang let out a gruff bark.

"You aren't as big as you used to seem," Lucius spoke neutrally to the dog. He recalled having been chased a time or two by Fang. He also recalled he hadn't been entirely too pleasant to the animal and had deserved getting chased.

Fang sniffed at Lucius, barked gruffly again, and then nudged his head into the wizard's solar plexus. Lucius just barely remained on his feet, but let out a woof of air with the "gentle" impact.

"Looks like Fang's fergiven ye for yer youth, Lucius," chuckled Hagrid. He'd heard from both Minerva and Albus about the young wizard's change.

Lucius had crouched down to scratch Fang's massive head. The drool the boarhound was happily dripping on his jean's leg was ignored. He'd dealt with much worse working at the circus and a little dog drool didn't cause him alarm as it once would have.

"Glad he has, Hagrid. I was an idiot," Lucius smiled easily. He'd never been nice to the gameskeeper, now a professor, and had disdained the half-giant as a student.

"Got yer message. Ye needin' some help with findin' sumthin?" asked Hagrid.

"It's something I hid in my fifth year. My Wingardium Leviosa isn't quite up to snuff, yet, and I'd hate to levitate the boulder its beneath through a castle window." Lucius chuckled and Hagrid grinned.

"Show me th' way, Lucius."

With Fang bounding ahead and circling back every few yards, Hagrid and Lucius walked around the lake slowly. Lucius studied trees, boulders, trying to recall the hiding place. They'd found one likely spot, but upon Hagrid lifting the large boulder nestled in tree roots, they only unearthed worms and grubs. Despite it obviously not being the spot, Lucius dug down into the dark, moist earth for a few minutes before giving up.

There were two more places that ended up in a fruitless search before Lucius despaired of finding the old hiding place.

It was Fang who was the lucky seeker. He had taken his relief against a boulder slightly smaller than those they'd looked under, and then began barking at the now wet earth.

"Hey! There's sum sorta symbol here, Lucius!" crowed Hagrid as he knelt down to look at the spot where Fang had relieved himself.

"My mark!" laughed Lucius. "How could I have forgotten that? This is it, Hagrid."

The boulder was really no heavier than Fang and Hagrid lifted it easily. He dropped it a few feet away as Lucius began to dig in the dirt with a trowel. With a shout, he was rewarded by the appearance of an obsidian box.

Reverently Lucius released the small box from the dirt and swept off the remaining clumps with his hand. He continually smiled at the treasure.

"Childhood treasures?" asked Hagrid with curiosity.

"Something like that." Lucius rose to his feet and though he was anxious to counter the spells that kept the box sealed, he didn't wish to do so in front of Hagrid. He shrank the box and tucked it into his pocket.

"Care to have some tea, then?" offered Hagrid.

"Another time, perhaps. I need to get to Diagon Alley." Lucius stretched out his hand and firmly gripped that of the half-giant's in farewell.

Lucius was in a small, outdoor cafe on one of the narrow streets that branched off of Diagon Alley. As the foot traffic was minimal, he had the privacy he needed. Sipping his tea, he took out the box and unshrank it.

His first attempt at countering the locking spells knocked his wand from his hand and gave him a nasty shock that caused him to shake his fingers out for several seconds until the feeling came back.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, and sifted through his memories. It was a good thing that Narcissa's Obliviate had been a poor one or else he'd have had to had Severus help him in recovering more memories and he really didn't wish to go through that again.

After several long minutes he was able to clearly recall the locking spells and to summon the counters for each. As he incanted the last counter spell, a silver clasp faded into view. Lucius thumbed it open and lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a small piece of folded parchment that he carefully unfolded.

A smile broke forth upon his face of triumph. Tucking the note back into his duster pocket with the the shrunken box, he rushed away from the cafe.

Ollivander's daughter was in the workroom of the wand shop. Her father was going through his inventory, clucking over pieces of wood, and sighing dejectedly over dragonstring, unicorn hair, and other potential core pieces that didn't quite come up to his expectations.

Ollivander's daughter was shaping a wand and preparing it for a single gold unicorn hair that she'd been waiting months for to acquire.

"You'll need to finish that during a Blue Moon," observed Ollivander.

His daughter stuck her tongue out at him and carefully ran soft wool over the spiral that represented the horn of the unicorn.

Ollivander looked up from his inventory and over his spectacles at his daughter. He scowled. "You need a husband to curb that facetious attitude of yours," he snapped.

"You're just tired of me sharing your house," she snapped right back.

"Indeed I am." He then glared. "Whyever did I find your corset in the parlor this morning?"

"How do you know it was mine, father?"

"Have I another daughter who is so blatantly disorganised?" he demanded.

"Mother claims you might have a dozen daughters and sons who are just as disorganised, or worse." She smiled as her half-moon spectacles slipped a tiny bit down her nose.

"You're an impudent creature, child! Perhaps I was wrong to teach you my craft." He picked up a gryphon feather and eyed it skeptically.

"Your other offspring have all become boggarts, father. I'm the only one left with hands," she quipped.

"Boggarts, hm. Poor things." He glanced up and took off his spectacles. "Who are these mothers of my lost children, then?" he inquired sharply.

His daughter raised her head and tapped her lip. "Mer-women? Oh, wait! I think mother said one of your paramours was a Banshee. I think she deafened you for awhile."

Ollivander walked over to his daughter and kissed the top of her head. "Such an outrageous thing you are. Just like your mother. You know she would have gutted me with an iron blade had I even deigned to look at another."

"Mother and your wands, father," she sighed affectionately before looking up at the Gryphon feather in his hands. "Acceptable?"

"Quite." Ollivander's head snapped up. "Go clean up, child. A vistor is coming."

Obediently she put away her work things and the wand she was readying. She then went to the loo where she washed her hands and threw cool water upon her face.

Minutes later when she emerged into the main shop, she was greeted by a pleasantly oddly attired Lucius Malfoy.

"Islabelle Ollivander," he greeted. "I have something that belongs to you." Between his fingers he held out the magnificent feather that had come from an opal phoenix they had plucked from the surface of the lake that long ago day.

Islabelle moved gracefully from behind the counter and slipped her arms around Lucius waist, as she touched the feather and then tipped his hat back further on his head. "Everyone else calls me Islabelle. What did I ask you to call me?"

"Belle."

He pulled her close and kissed her. For a fraction of a second she giggled against his mouth before surrendering to the kiss.

Ollivander chose that moment to emerge from the workroom. He muttered to himself. "It's about time!"