The Obligatory Spiel: All characters belong to their respective creators; I am only playing with them. Thanks for reading, and as always, R&R!

WARNING: This fic contains adult content. If this disturbs you, PLEASE DO NOT READ IT. This was written for FUN and is not to be taken seriously. Reviews are appreciated, but flames are not. If you have a problem with it, forget you read it and move on. We are all entitled to our own stories. Thanks for reading!

Persuading the Prince

The saucer flew across the room, spinning out of control until it crashed against the wall, shards of porcelain tinkling to the floor.

"Draco!" Narcissa shouted at her teenage son, but his face turned up in a defiant sneer as he jerked away from her and flopped onto the couch.

"I won't! I am not meant for this!" Draco screamed, sounding like his father with his newly-deepened voice.

"Draco," Narcissa took a step closer to him, forcing her voice down. "This is an honour. You are being asked to perform a task for the Dark Lord! So many would want to be in your position, but they never will. Can't you see how much honour you will bring to this family?"

Draco still scowled, his arms crossed. "I don't see why it has to be me. I can do other things for him. Why can't I just kill Potter? That I might actually enjoy!"

Narcissa sat next to her son on the old couch, but kept her distance. "Don't be so selfish!" she said sternly. "Killing Harry Potter is the Dark Lord's privilege."

Draco snorted and turned his head from her. Narcissa always had trouble getting him to cooperate, but this was more than just a matter of him cleaning his room or hanging the laundry to dry.

"Draco," she said smoothly, maternal love in her voice. "This could ensure your future. You could be his best and most trusted follower."

"I am already, aren't I? Because of father I mean," Draco argued.

"You have to work for honour, Draco," Narcissa said. "Nothing is just given to you. How do you think your father earned his respect?"

Draco considered this. Inside, Narcissa cringed. She hated that she was having to persuade her only son, so young and innocent still in her eyes, to commit one of the foulest of crimes known to the magic world. It made her sick to think of it but also gave her a sense of pride. It was not everybody's son who was personally called upon by the Dark Lord. If Draco could prove himself, if he could complete his task, his future would be sealed.

"I still don't see why it has to be me," Draco muttered. "Why not Aunt Bella? She doesn't have any problem at all killing anyone. Let her at him."

"This task was given to you," Narcissa said. "Can't you see he is testing you? If he weren't, he would have given the task to someone else."

Draco still looked noncommittal, but his face changed from angry and defiant to frightened. Narcissa took in his expression with distress. This was no longer the face of a young man, but the face of her young son. He looked not a day older than four, and she was brought back the happier times of his youth. She realized suddenly that he was still a boy. The task at hand became suddenly grimmer, and she felt an overriding compulsion to help Draco avoid it, no matter what she had to.

Her mind began to spin with possibilities. Would the Dark Lord reassign Draco's task to another? Would he let Draco resign without punishment? She knew this was unlikely. If Draco were to not complete the task, he would likely be exiled from the Death Eaters, and likely killed, as he knew too much about Voldemort to be kept alive. The thought haunted her. It was kill or be killed.

But then another plan began to work its way through her mind. A plan that would take the convincing of another. It seemed ludicrous, but it had potential: she would convince Severus Snape to help her son. If Draco and Snape were together, Snape could easily kill Dumbledore while Draco took credit. She could use Bella to kill Dumbledore, but feared that if her plan were to be exposed, Bella would be punished as well. She didn't have much in common with her sister, but she did love her.

Snape however, owed them. It seemed logical and simple, but still a knot twisted in her stomach. It was surely punishable by death, if she got caught. The only problem was convincing Snape to help her.

"Draco," She said slowly, gazing into the great fireplace in front of them. "Rest easy tonight. You needn't worry about this. If you are not up to the task, I will help you to evade it."

Draco looked mildly surprised at her change of heart, but his gratitude didn't last long.

"How?" Draco said. "I won't end up killed will I?" His voice was more angry than afraid, his expression returning to its previous scowl.

"Of course not," Narcissa assured him, a tremble in her voice. "Just leave it to me."

With that, she patted her son's knee and crossed the parlor. As she closed the door behind her, she shivered slightly, hoping her sister was in a good mood.