If he were like Severus, he would wonder if their unchanging natures were unnatural for the world around them, one that reveled in uncertainty and chaos. His friend had always been a thinker, Lucius frequently teasing him that his mouth would forever stay downward, and his dark eyes narrowed as if he were a churlish tutor; one that took pleasure only from rapping their students knuckles, and ripping apart the essays they labored over (even the purest heirs forced to endure private schooling). His friend had always laughed at that, reluctantly or not, neither of them able to imagine him tutoring anyone.