A/N: Well hello there, this is going to be a double post of sorts, the next chapter may take a few minutes. I have decided to post these two chapters as I know I haven't updated this story in a while and well, it's about time if you're not going to see me again for a while. Hope you get what I'm trying to present in this chapter and that I haven't given away too much, that would just ruin everything, wouldn't it?
Disclaimer: Recently had dream in which JK Rowling came to my house (or was it former secondary school?) on a bus and asked to use my computer, but then began emailing all these cool websites and banning them from writing fics. As she was the one with the power to do that, and not me, and she hasn't banned us yet (and I hope never will) I guess this stuff isn't mine. I'm just playing with it, and boy is it fun. :D
*****
Interlude
This time when the sundial portkey deposited its passengers they landed with barely a missed step on the uneven forest floor. The three travellers, more surefooted than their predecessors, simply straightened their robes-the single female in the group adjusted her hold on the package she carried-and then they all turned to the light above them on the hill. In the cold darkness of the still night, the torches along the steps of the castle fortress burned high and red-orange bright.
But their arrival was far from unnoticed.
The black-cloaked guards concealed in the trees around them were on full alert. They had barely stirred when they arrived, as they were expected, but the closest to their clearing had their wands drawn and trained on the group. Invited to Slytherin's Castle they may have been, but trusted they were not.
Through the eerily still and silent forest then, which seemed to magically bend away before their path, the three quickly and quietly walked towards the castle steps. Before they were there the woman-small and slender, with a head of long, sleek white-blonde hair, clear blue eyes and a curious upturned nose-took the lead and almost ran the rest of the way.
For weeks now she had been waiting for the day she would finally be able to come here. For days now, since the blank parchment had arrived, she had been anxiously going over what she could and would carry. For hours she had been impatiently pacing the large and vacant living room of her house, awaiting the arrival of the two who would accompany her. And now that the opportunity was finally here she could barely wait to get in. After weeks of waiting, wondering, hoping, she would finally see her son again.
It almost took away the sting from the fact that her husband could not join her.
Before they were at the bottom step their host appeared.
As if from thin air, but with a "pop" that reverberated through the stillness, the Dark Lord Apparated before the first arrival, the woman, and said, "Mrs Malfoy, it is a pleasure to see you again."
Illuminated by the torches around and behind him, the Dark Lord stood tall before her with his long black robes flowing behind him and his bald, grey head gleaming. The look on his face sharply contrasted with his greeting though, and the cold gaze he levelled at her confirmed it. Narcissa stopped at once and looked up at him, and then immediately gave a brief bow, "My Lord."
He smiled at her, his eyes arctic, "And I see you've brought something for young Draco as well… if nothing else, you are the dedicated mother. Come along then, I know that he's been waiting to see you again too."
He extended an arm for her, she took it, and together they ascended the cold stone steps to the castle entrance. The two that had come with her, followed wordlessly behind.
It was unnerving how quiet the forest area surrounding the castle, cloaked in fog and darkness, was. As their predecessors had, so they too noticed the unnatural quiet that resonated through the trees and air, how loud it made their every breath, the echo caused by every step and the sense of foreboding danger that seemed to permeate from every brick.
But Narcissa barely really noticed.
Her thoughts were focused only on seeing her son again; no matter if she had to descend to what looked like Hell on earth to do it.
When they were at the courtyard though, they stopped and the Dark Lord turned to her. The other two continued on past them without so much as a sideways glance.
Narcissa looked to him confused, but it was only to find him glowering at her, red eyes like slow-burning coals, hand suddenly tightly grasping her upper arm. She actually winced a little as he said, "Tell me, Mrs Malfoy… why is it, after I told you not to, did you interfere in your son's task?"
She made no attempt to lie, "I'm his mother, and I was worried about him."
He released her arm to bring a hand to her face, gently lifting her chin with a long, grotesquely elegant finger, "You went against me, after I specifically told you not to."
She held his gaze and repeated her answer, "I'm his mother, and I was worried about him…. He's my only son; I did not want him to fail. No mother wants that for their child."
Withdrawing his hand, he folded his arms and took a slow walk round her, his robes sweeping over her feet and the flagstone ground as he went. It was strange how she could clearly hear her own heart pounding wildly in her chest, and yet barely catch a strain of his breathing. But she did not move otherwise, choosing instead to stare determinedly off to the castle entrance ahead until he stopped before her again and said, "You will not do that again, Mrs Malfoy."
She looked to her feet then and said nothing. He took her silence for assent, grasped her arm again and led her on into the castle.
As they entered, those within seemingly melted away from their path into the shadows. The torches, mounted high on the walls above them, lengthened their own and cast parts of their faces in darkness. Curiously, they seemed to give the Dark Lord an unnatural beauty, but in Narcissa emphasised the signs of weeks of distress. In fact, it was then, and despite the colour of her eyes and hair, that any watching could see the slight similarities between her and Bellatrix.
Within the castle though, the silence that surrounded them was sharply replaced by the soft rumble of dozens of footfalls, low breathing and half-whispered conversations. It was slightly warmer too, but then still very much felt like a damp basement, complete with the smells. But no one around seemed to mind, for the Dark Lord considered it the height of palatial perfection, and that was really all that mattered.
The Dark Lord led her down the main hall, past the adjoining corridors and rooms, past the windows' end and the many nightmarish paintings, to the stairs, and then up those, but instead of to his chambers, along the hall to the left to a room with a heavy wooden door. Before they were at it Narcissa could hear Draco's voice within, and she could barely contain her relieved smile.
He was safe, alive, talking and almost cheerful. He was safe.
Oh, but not for long.
After the initial shock and fear had worn off, Draco had gradually slipped back into his old self. Somehow, in his new haunted prison he had made it as if he were still at Hogwarts and the de facto leader of the Slytherin students. He strutted about the ancient cave-like castle with his nose and chin held high, spoke loudly and lazily to everyone he met (except the Dark Lord), sneered at all who came and went (at least when the Dark Lord was no where in sight) and generally carried on as if he owned the place. The only people who could shock him out of it were the Dark Lord himself, Bellatrix, Peter Pettigrew (who he thought rather creepy) and Snape, who used him as his personal assistant while he stirred up strange potions in a room set aside just for him by the Dark Lord.
Any complaints about this position were bit down though, for the alternatives were to either join the other Death Eaters as they wreaked havoc or have the Dark Lord kill him. The thought of killing someone alarmingly set his knees shaking so badly he could barely stand, and he had no doubts that the Dark Lord, if given reason, would really kill him.
Potions assistant it was then.
Tonight, thinking himself free of the listed four, he was in the room he shared with Snape, holding court with some of the lesser Death Eaters. In his usual lazy, conceited drawl, he was saying loudly to someone, "You should have seen Potter's face when I caught him-he didn't know I'd seen his foot-complete horror, like if I'd come in on him wanking off. (The others erupted in loud sniggering.) And then he had the audacity to try to hit me, I had to teach him some manners right then, I bet that was the last time he tried to eavesdrop on his betters."
The door suddenly swung open before Narcissa and the Dark Lord, and Draco abruptly fell silent.
From his elevated position on an old stool that faced the door, he had been holding court like a king, his crownless hair half-heartedly swept out of his face, his shabby, dirty robes a mantle. But the stool had been chosen for the advantage of the view he had now and with it the ability to shoot out of it as if it had caught fire when the view came. The Dark Lord stepped into the room first, Narcissa holding back in the doorway behind him, and all others present did the same, sharply, and awkwardly.
The Dark Lord spoke, "'His betters'? Young Master Malfoy, if I am not mistaken, according to some reports, you were thwarted by and then had to steal ideas from some Mudblood."
Draco dropped his head, unable and unwilling to respond. The Dark Lord continued, undeterred, "Oh don't worry, I care little for that now, and you will tell me more about this Mudblood later… right now you have a visitor."
Draco looked up again just as his mother finally stepped out of the doorway and nearly ran to him. A moment later he was being enveloped in her arms in a bone-crushing embrace, that for once, despite the snickering around them, (which was silenced with a look from the Dark Lord) he didn't mind. But it was only for a moment, before he protested and struggled out of her grasp, "Mother… please…."
She released him at once, and presented the package she had brought, "I've got you some fresh clothes and snacks. I know the Dark Lord has been most wonderfully and kindly supplying your needs but I'm sure you miss things from home. I couldn't bring much though because it would have been suspicious, there are Aurors watching the house now. Leaving the house today was difficult enough…."
The Dark Lord behind them spoke up then, "I shouldn't mind that too long, they'll soon have other concerns."
Draco didn't know why, but that discomforted him a lot more than it should have. He could say nothing to that though, so instead nervously replied to his mother, "T-thank you…."
The Dark Lord continued, "I shall leave you two then, but Severus shall be along shortly to summon you. I have something I wish to discuss."
And that just plain frightened him. The last time they had anything to "discuss" he had been ordered to murder the Headmaster. Suddenly, Draco didn't feel quite as his "old self" anymore.
With barely a sound then, the Dark Lord turned and vanished through the doors with the others hurrying behind him, and then Narcissa turned on her son again.
"Oh Draco, you look so pale, and thin… you have been eating, haven't you?" she asked, fretting over him with a hand to his forehead while the other forced him to sit.
"I'm fine mother," he said, curtly, dropping back into his seat. He didn't mean to be rude, and he was very pleased to see her, but the Dark Lord… he couldn't help thinking about the Dark Lord.
She ignored his tone anyway, "Your father wanted to come, he should have been with you already, but the Aurors, they stopped him."
"What?" Draco asked, confused, for he had only been half-listening to her.
"They tried to escape yesterday, but the Aurors… they found out and stopped them. He was so worried about you that he wanted to see you again as soon as he could," she replied, releasing him and turning to open the package.
"Oh," said Draco, lamely, but he couldn't help but thinking that it was good that he wasn't.
*****
Snape did appear to summon them, not some ten minutes later, to the Dark Lord's chambers as he had said he would. Draco had changed out of his old robes, which was basically what the Dark Lord had given him over his school uniform to the fresh ones Narcissa had brought and was eating heartily under her watchful gaze. She was also interrogating him about the work he did for Snape at the castle, which he absently told her about between bites, but both stopped when Snape loudly cleared his throat.
He looked not much different from the man Narcissa had last spoken to in the small derelict old house in Spinner's End more than a year before. He was long changed out of the robes he had worn the night of Dumbledore's murder, but these new ones were basically designed the same, and fell about him in somewhat elegant folds. But something was different still, for his greasy hair fell lankly to his shoulders, his dark eyes boasted bags and a haunted look, and though he excellently disguised it, there was an air of… something off… about him.
Narcissa was the first to speak, "Severus? Is that you…?"
He stepped further from the doorway and gave her a slight nod. She rose from her seat at the table and went to him smiling brightly, "Thank you, thank you…. You've saved him, thank you…."
Behind them, Draco looked up to give them an uncurious glance and then returned to his meal.
Snape allowed Narcissa to take his hands in her own and give them a gentle squeeze, before drawing away again and saying, "The Dark Lord wants you in his chambers. You'll have to leave that here, Draco…. Don't worry about it, Wormtail won't get his grubby hands on them, he has work to do."
Draco actually choked at that, but the expression on Snape's face was unreadable, and he turned and left them without a word. When Narcissa turned to her son confused, Draco rearranged his features to blank as well, covered his snacks with his old robes and quietly followed him out into the hall.
The expression had been unreadable, but the eyes had already issued their warning.
As they got to the Dark Lord's chambers though, Draco temporarily lost his composure when he saw a band of no more than twelve Death Eaters leaving it. At the head of the group was Bellatrix (whose eyes widened in slight surprise when she saw her sister) and among them were the siblings who had been in the tower the night they went after Dumbledore. But the sight of them going out was commonplace, and though she was, well, mad, Bellatrix did not really inspire fear in him.
No, it was what they said that momentarily set his heart racing.
They must have been given a special assignment, for one of the siblings was laughing, "We go to Potty's house! We get Potty's house! I want-"
He forced himself not to hear the rest and head on through the doors from which they had just emerged.
He did not care about Potter or his friends, he didn't care about them at all, but for some strange reason he did not want to think about what would happen when that band got to wherever they were going….
The Dark Lord was on his throne when they entered the chambers with Nagini coiled at his feet. In some fantastic way he looked perfectly suited to the image he presented: the king of the castle about to hold court with his most trusted servants. But this was no benevolent monarch, not even a monarch at all, and the pet spread serenely at his feet was not his must trusted mastiff. This was the Dark Wizard that nightmares were made of, and in the court he was about to hold, he was going to create a few more.
Snape marched Draco and his mother into the centre of the room before the main table, and then started away, presumably to join the group. But the Dark Lord stopped him, "Oh no, don't go Severus, this concerns you as well…."
He stopped at once and quietly rejoined them.
For a time though, the Dark Lord sat silently watching them, making no attempt to rise. Narcissa allowed her eyes to wander throughout the room, and stopped, transfixed, at the cage. Snape said nothing, and did not move either, but out of the corner of his eyes he was carefully observing Narcissa's movements. Draco just plainly stared at his feet, uninterested in looking around him, unwilling to hear what the Dark Lord wanted and greatly desiring to be anywhere else. His life was just fine before he met him, thank you.
Eventually though, the Dark Lord did speak.
"Young Malfoy, you never did tell me everything you knew about Potter's friends…."
Draco's response was automatic, but he tried to be as respectful as he could, "You never asked, sir."
The Dark Lord actually chuckled, and replied, "No, I guess I did not… but I'm surprised that you weren't as eager to tell me anyway."
Draco could not bring himself to answer. The Dark Lord barely noticed. Rising from his throne, he walked down to them, stopping just before the circular table with his hands on the dusty stone top, and said, "It does not matter; I have a new mission for you. You know Potter's girlfriend, don't you?"
Draco looked up at him with what could be described as surprise, but did not allow the expression to form.
"Good, I want you to kill her," replied the Dark Lord.
Draco's internal reaction to this was immediate and terrifying. It was as if he had just come off a marathon and someone had doused him with a bucket of ice cold water. His heart painfully skipped a few beats and then refused to adjust to it, so that he had to fight the urge to put a hand to his chest. His skin felt clammy, his hands themselves becoming sweaty and he could feel the first beads of that cold sweat already running down his prickling spine. His breathing became audibly laboured, but he fought to keep it away from the Dark Lord's ears. It was not an easy task though, all of a sudden the room felt as if was closing in on him and the world had flipped upside down.
How different was this reaction from the one he had had over a year before when the Dark Lord ordered him to kill the Headmaster. Then, though frightened of the man towering before him, he had been eager to prove himself worthy of the task. Now, still frightened of the man towering before him, he wanted nothing more than to run very far away.
But Snape had taught him well, he never let the reaction cross his face.
"W-what?" he stammered, and mentally cursed himself for it. He cleared his throat and tried again, "My Lord?"
"You heard me," said the Dark Lord, coldly, glowering at him much as he had to his mother no more than some twenty minutes before.
"Oh yes, sir, of course… kill her…" he repeated, clearing his throat again, fighting the urge to scream.
At the throne before them, Nagini suddenly lazily uncoiled herself and slithered noiselessly off towards the door. Just before it though, she stopped and disappeared into a dark, narrow hole in the wall. It was a tunnel that Draco suspected would probably lead her off to another room or out of the castle entirely. It was hours since sunset, and she liked to hunt in the dark.
"My spies have confirmed that the boy has gone to their home… and has been there for quite some time. You are not to harm him; you are not to kill anyone else but her…. Do you understand me?" asked the Dark Lord.
Draco nodded, and then quickly replied, "Y-yes sir, I understand, sir."
"Good," said the Dark Lord, and then lifting his hands from the table, turned to look over Snape and his mother.
Neither moved, but Narcissa bowed her head and dropped her gaze to the floor. Draco, standing stiffly beside her, a myriad of thoughts racing through his mind, could actually feel her fear. Many times in his youth he had seen her afraid, and usually it was for something silly, like him, but never had it felt like this: the emotion almost literally pulsed through the air around her. A year before she had stood calmly by while he had received his orders, but not tonight. Tonight something was different, and he had a feeling he was not going to like it.
The Dark Lord, when next he spoke, spoke to them both, "You two will not interfere. Not you, Mrs Malfoy, for your 'only son' whom you 'love' and do not wish to see fail. Not you, Severus, for your 'dear friend', whose son you are godfather to and do not wish to see harmed. Draco must do this alone; he will do this on his own. He will go out there, he will find the little blood traitor, that foolish little Weasley girl, and he will kill her before Potter's eyes. You will not interfere."
Snape gave no sign that he acknowledged him, but Narcissa looked so distressed she seemed on the verge of fainting. She nodded though, her gaze still on the floor and twisting and squeezing her hands desperately before her. Draco wanted to put his arms around her and reassure her that he would be alright, but he didn't, he couldn't.
Now the Dark Lord moved from the table. Folding his arms at his chest while bringing one to his chin, he stalked away before them for a moment in deep thought, and then said, "This little… Mudblood, Draco… she is another of Potter's friends…?"
Draco responded at once, "Yes sir." He volunteered no more though, deciding, for some reason that he did not want to. If the Dark Lord wanted to know about them, he would have to lead the conversation.
Yes it was probably suicidal, but so was this mission he had just given him. He had seen Potter's face chasing after Snape.
"What is she like?" asked the Dark Lord.
Draco looked to Snape, surprised, not expecting this question. Now he wanted to know about them?
Snape did not turn to him, but out of the corner of his eyes, Draco thought he saw his eyes flicker to him for a moment. He took this as a signal to reply.
"She doesn't know her place," he replied, disdainfully, trying to regain his usual confident and detached manner. "They call her 'the brightest witch of her generation', but she is nothing more than a filthy, jumped-up little 'know-it-all'. She walks around all high and mighty, bossing people around, showing off or acting the 'martyr' and since so many teachers like her she practically gets away with it. Only Professor Snape here saw her for what she really was: not good enough to share the air the rest of us breathe."
The Dark Lord stopped his pacing to look back at him, "And yet you had to depend on her for ideas…."
It was not a question; Draco did not attempt to answer.
The Dark Lord began to walk again, and asked, "Any other friends…?"
Draco did not bother to look at Snape this time, "His girlfriend's brother, another Weasley, Ron… but he's nothing more than a bumbling buffoon. He serves no purpose, he's just there to act like Potter's bodyguard, most of the plan-I wouldn't worry about him."
The Dark Lord stopped again and looked at him sceptically, possibly noticing his abrupt cut off, but then said, "Never underestimate your adversary."
"I would never," said Draco, "but they can't stop me. Even if they hadn't been so busy with each other last year-the Mudblood and Weasley-to notice, they couldn't help him."
"They might have learned from their mistakes," the Dark Lord told him.
"They don't," said Snape suddenly, cutting into the conversation.
The Dark Lord looked up at him, and then at once advanced to the table, stopping only just before him to ask, "Is that so?"
"I have taught them for years, the boy is a fool and if you give him a chance he would get Potter killed for you. The girl… she is insufferable, convinced that she is always right and desperate to show it off. They have not changed, they will not change, it would do Potter good to leave them behind, maybe he will learn that someday," said Snape, firmly.
The Dark Lord stood a while, quietly studying Snape, and then said something rather curious, to Draco at least, "Of course, you taught them, you should know… and especially as far as Mudbloods are concerned…."
Draco looked at Snape, mystified, but Snape gave no visible response to the comment, and the Dark Lord stood up away from him and said, "I will deal these friends in my own time, I have it anyway, their Order hasn't been able to show any serious opposition since Dumbledore fell. (He smiled at his own pun for a moment, and then continued.) If the Weasley boy is not as important as you say, but Potter still keeps him around then he will die anyway. Sentimentality breeds weakness, Potter should know this by now. However, the girl… well, Severus, I shall leave her to you…."
He smiled at Snape, who did not return it, and then walked round the table to them and said, "Now, Draco, you shall go back with your mother, the dear woman has provided some fresh clothes and a lovely meal I am sure you would like to get back to…? (Narcissa nodded, needlessly.) Good, why don't you two get back to that…? And Severus here will come with me."
Snape, for the first time since they entered the room, revealed an emotion: surprise. He looked at the Dark Lord and asked, "My Lord?"
"We're going to pay a visit to Potter's family, as his teacher I would expect that you would jump at the opportunity to give them a personal progress report?" he asked.
Oh Draco did not like this; he did not like this at all. And as his mother dragged him from the room, behind the two men now heading to the door and the party that were surely waiting without, he could see that neither did Snape.
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