Chapter 157

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It was hard to come to my senses as if something was holding me back.

"Dream spell. Powerful. I took some of it out on myself. It's hard to think," Rowena's thoughts echoed in my head. Because of the strange state of slumber and sleep paralysis, a phantom sensation of pain or something else went through my body now and then. But the headpats were absolutely clear, real. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard voices. Familiar voices.

"...decided to come," it was Delphine's voice. The aromas of fruit and wine crept into my consciousness along with it.

"You called, Fina," and that voice was familiar, too. Narcissa?

"I did. A month ago. Tardiness is permissible for a lady, but not like this..."

"I was busy."

No one said anything for a while, and the silence almost made me float back into the darkness. I stayed afloat by the smell of other wine.

"What's Mr. Knight doing here?" said Narcissa again.

"Asking to be an apprentice."

"Lying on your lap?"

"Don't be a bitch, Cissy. It doesn't work on me. Listen."

Silence.

"Is he purring?" the surprise in Narcissa's voice could be felt physically.

"Very similar. Too funny. I couldn't help myself."

"Very... Not according to etiquette. You're a married lady."

"Come on," Delphine replied friendly. "If I can communicate with someone without a convention, I will. And if I want to pet something so amusingly purring, I will."

Judging by her voice, Delphine was smiling, not stopping to stroke my head, sometimes burrowing her fingers into my hair. Am I really purring?

"I guess. Very similar..."

"Do you ever dare to talk to him?"

There was only silence in response to Delphine.

"Cissy..."

"You don't understand. I don't remember. I don't remember anything about him at all. I'm far from a weak occlumens, and I can reconstruct the last twenty-five years in seconds. There isn't a single blackout moment in those seconds. Max is not there. I definitely remember the diagnosis, I remember the birth, I remember Draco. Max isn't there."

"Snape?"

"What "Snape"?"

"I am not the one who should tell you that he owes his skill to the deep processing of the aconite potion. By combining a mental ingredient with a potion. Although not certified, he is a master of occlumency and legilimency."

"I've already thought about it. I don't want to think that way about Lucius and Severus. There must be something left in this life..."

"Something bright and kind?"

"Yes."

"Not for us."

Another portion of silence was accompanied by the distinctive clinking of the glass - against each other.

"I recently saw Draco in, shall we say, a natural appearance."

"I'm shocked at him, Fina. Lucius's upbringing is terrible. Draco doesn't listen to me at all."

"He needs to be brought under control immediately. In his current state and outlook, he will lead the House to ruin. But it is not for me to give advice on upbringing - I have problems with my daughters myself. But still, why don't you talk to Max? Sit down and discuss... Anything? What are mother and son talking about?"

"What for, Fina? Even if he does turn out to be my son, I don't remember him. I can't recover my memory. I wasn't in his life...ever. I'm just a stranger to him. What is it for?"

"Blood is not water, Cissy. And he needs an anchor — a powerful one. I've made inquiries, done a few investigations. He's so deep in a shell of occlumency that he's been losing himself for a long time. He's almost faceless. When Max came to talk about apprenticeship, he didn't do it for a purpose. He wanted to learn because he could. He had killed before, and he felt no remorse. Why did he do it? Because it suited his plans and because he could. No regrets, no torment, no hesitation. He needs an anchor. He has no purpose, no meaning. He does because he can and because it's what's best for him."

"Isn't there anyone to act as an anchor?"

"There is a girl. A muggle-born."

"Pff."

"Don't play neglect, Cissi. You've never fooled me yet. You don't despise or hate them. You don't care. The girl doesn't want to get close yet. And Max ALREADY does not care. A year, two, three? How long will it take him to become like a golem?"

"And what do you want from me?"

"I was at his family's house, looked up memories of his foster parents and neighbors. He was a cheerful, talented, and hardworking boy, but also serious. Enjoyed all kinds of little things and his first underage magic, thinking no one could see him. Happily explored everything around him. But now he walks over corpses, disregarding his sense of self-preservation, conducting master-level rituals. I want to make sure that this talented boy does not turn into another Dark Lord. One became obsessed with ideas, the other became a psycho killer. How soon will the moment come when Max becomes like this? When, in order to make everyone happy, will he decide to destroy all the discontented, or something else?"

Another silence nearly sent me into darkness again, but the clinking of glasses, the smell of wine, and the hand that occasionally buried itself in the hair on my head - it kept me afloat.

<I'm falling asleep. And you'll be asleep soon enough.>

"I can't deal with an ordinary naughty teenager ... What do you suggest?"

"I don't know... Cissy... I don't know..."

The sounds grew farther and farther away, and the darkness squeezed its arms tighter and tighter.