CHARACTERS: Severus Snape and the honourable Luci Malfoy
RATING: PG... partially greasy!
Lucius Malfoy" Lucius sat in his cell. The silence of the prison was deafening. He was left with his own thoughts again. He leaned back against the cool stone walls and waited. What he waited for, he didn't know. But it was coming, in loud footsteps. Step, step, step. There were two of them. "Visitor for you, Malfoy. A John Thomas," the guard said. John Thomas? Lucius asked himself, Who in the world is John Thomas? Lucius looked out from between the bars. He saw the most welcoming and familiar face. "My friend," he said.
Severus Snape: "Lucius, old buddy!" Snape shouted in more of a croak, running over to the bars in an exaggerated, slow-motion fashion. He grasped the bars, rolled his eyes quickly enough so not to look suspicious, and shot a long stare back at the guard. The guard’s eyes were now glassy, sedated... he didn't appear to be making too much of the situation. "How did you land in Azkaban?" he asked still in character, shooting another glare over his shoulder, waiting to catch the guard unconscious.
Lucius Malfoy: "By being caught off guard, John," Lucius said. He was thoroughly confused when he saw Severus drunk and acting demented. "I wasn't paying attention while in Diagon Alley and soon found myself under Imperious and at the Ministry. Luckily," he grimaced, "the Boy-Who-Lived was there to save me. How have you been?"
Severus Snape: Snape didn't say anything, shooting a glare over his shoulder, waiting, waiting... the guard fell. Snape turned in full circle to see if anybody else was around. He loosened his grip on the bars and moved his face in as far as he could. With a smooth, hissing of a whisper he hurried to get everything Lucius needed to know out, "I'm stealing papers for your release tonight. You'll be out on parole by Tuesday at the latest. It is the best I can do." He took another skittish look around, "He'll only be knocked out for fifteen more minutes and I still have to get the papers." With that he straightened himself back up to his usual height and tone. "I've been... delightfully on edge of hexing the little monsters I 'teach.'"
Lucius Malfoy: Well, that explains everything, Lucius thought. "I could only imagine, John. Those dunderheads must be dreadfully awful. Never expressing their gratitude for everything that you do for them. I want you to know that because you teach my son so well, I am eternally in debt to you," Lucius said. He peered over Snape's shoulder at the unconscious guard. "What are you waiting for? Go now!" he hissed.
Severus Snape: Snape's head could only be faintly seen nodding as he carefully set the guard's body against the prison cell. He jogged on the balls of his feet to keep the noise down as he set off down the corridor, and the first dark corner he found he examined quickly before pulling out the small bottle containing the polyjuice potion. He rose it to the air and tilted his head back, letting the thick liquid crawl down his throat. When he had the last of the potion down he tucked the container back under his arm, and held his breath as the transformation completed.
Snape's simple black robes were fit pinchingly tight around his new muscles and figure, but there was no time to worry about that. Keeping to the shadows he went to one of the main offices, and crouched behind the file cabinet as he searched for the papers. Snape had premeditated everything to get this over swiftly, yet he failed to realize his black robes would be slightly different than the guards'. There was no time for silly games over the discrepancy, and the parole papers were soon in his hand. Rolling them carefully he tucked the sheets into the inside pocket of his robes.
There were only two doors to Azkaban. The heavily guarded side door that was used for shipments of stale food, and the front door. He would have to take his chances with his robes at the front door. Slightly uneasy of the escape he walked stately down to the entryway, his hand gripped over his wand keeping it concealed under his fingers and sleeve. Lightening started to light his footsteps as he reached the first gate, as he reappeared as the burly guard in the visitor's clothing.
"What are you doing out here?" the stringy haired man squeaked, leaning over the desk. Snape pulled his shoulders back and glared at the man.
"I need..." lightening struck in the distance and illuminating the guard's face, and Snape's robes. Before the man had a second moment Snape raised his arm and shot a weak confudulous charm between the man's eyes. "...a fag."
Snape trotted quickly to the far side of the prison. The ground was mud, sliding slowly to expose rocks dangling. Neither the rocks or the soil appeared well-equipped for the weather. He stood his figure pressed against the brick, his breath short and shallow, eyes closed. He waiting a moment to hear if anybody was coming, but the receptionist seems to have forgotten the 'guard' ever left the prison. Now, it was time to leave.
"Accio broomstick," Sanpe muttered under his breath. He waited in the rain, fingering the release papers to make sure he hadn't lost them yet. The broom came soaring over the tall wall of Azkaban. Reaching up to seize it, Snape mounted the broom and took a low flight for the first few miles before pulling up for some long distance riding.
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