Severus Snape was not a happy man. The sun hadn't yet risen above the trees of the Forbidden Forest, and already he had been woken three times. The first time, the burning in his arm had driven him straight up in bed. Rather than suffer what was likely to be a long night of pain, Severus had drained his supply of Dreamless Sleep potion. Dead to the world, and numb to the pain, he had not stirred until three a.m., when the venerable Headmaster had shouted at him through the fireplace, with harsh accusations as to why he had not been informed of Voldemort's dark deeds. Severus had replied that he had informed the Headmaster: there was a memo tacked to his office door, and would Dumbledore please leave, as it was difficult enough for him to sleep without being accused of aiding the Dark Lord's cause. Dumbledore has retreated with apologies, leaving Severus to fall once more into a fitful sleep. That is, until someone knocked politely on his door at dawn.

"Professor?"

Severus stumbled through the dark room to the door, and pulled it open with enough force to hurt his arm. Snarl firmly in place, he regarded the boy on the other side. There stood Draco Malfoy, pale, bloody and trembling, gripping the doorframe for support.

"Master Malfoy," Severus nodded coldly.

"Professor, I need…Could I…Do you have anything that will take the blood out of my robes?" asked Draco, faltering at first, and then his arrogance returned. Draco had realized that not only was Snape head of Slytherin, and as such, a valued confidant, but also one of Dumbledore's lackeys, who would invariably tell the old man everything. And besides, he was family, and Draco didn't want to involve him in the affairs of the Malfoy clan, or he might end up on the wrong end of a killing curse.

Severus himself was back in his professorial disposition. He looked Draco up and down with a cold gaze, and indicated that Draco should enter the room.

"Do come in, Master Malfoy."

Draco entered, holding his robes away from the floor, so as not to drip any blood onto Snape's antique Persian rug. He, and all of Slytherin house, knew of Snape's obsession with cleanliness. Contrary to popular belief, the man was constantly taking showers in order to keep the stench of his potions ingredients off.

"Draco?" He was jolted out of his reverie by Snape's thin hand on his shoulder. He had been staring into space for quite some time now, the blood from his robes dripping into the faded rug.

"Sorry, Sir. I'll clean your rug."

"This is not your blood, obviously. You would not be standing if you had lost this amount. What happened?"

"Since when do you act paternal?"

Snape sighed, "You know that in the halls, and in public, I have to treat you like everyone else."

"Who would be wandering around in the dungeons at dawn?" Draco asked. Snape gave him a cool look, "Besides me, of course."

"You never know where Potter might be lurking under that cloak of his, Draco."

"I suppose. Will you help me with the blood now, please?"

"What would your mother say, if she saw you all covered in blood, like this?"

Draco pouted very convincingly, "She would more than likely be angry with her brother for not looking after me. Wouldn't she, Uncle Severus?"

Snape shrugged and moved to his potions cabinet. "Here. This will take out blood."

"Why do you keep blood removal potion on hand? Do students often come to your door first thing in the morning, asking to have blood stains taken out?"

"No. I use it for my own robes, for after I kill my ingredients. You seem to have recovered admirably from whatever you suffered before you came to see me."

Draco paused in rubbing the potion into his robes. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, Professor."

"What did Lucius do now? Why Narcissa ever married that man…"

"I'll thank you not to refer to my Father in that tone of voice, Uncle Severus. After all, if I recall the story correctly, you were all for the match. Why, aren't you the one who introduced Mother and Father? Wasn't it right after your initiation into the Death Eaters?…"

"Yes, yes. Shut up, Draco. Take your potion and get out. Go to bed. You have classes in three hours. Get," Snape shooed him out the door, "Get."

"You're just like a little old woman. I wanted to speak to you about what happened, if you would give me a chance," Draco give a little pout and whined, "You don't care about me."

Snape sighed. "Of course I do. Sit down and talk then."

Draco came back into the room, and seated himself in one of his uncle's brocade armchairs. "Well, you see, it's quite a long story, Uncle Severus…"

"It had been at Father's request that I had been sent home. Mother, it was claimed, was very ill, dying even, and couldn't she see her 'darling boy' one last time? Why, of course, anything to ease the pain of a dying woman, you said. Dumbledore just nodded his acquiesce. So my things were packed up, my class work collected (for even the death of a parent is not an excuse for an incomplete assignment), my farewells said, and I was sent home to visit my dying Mother.

Nothing of consequence was said during the ride to the Manor. Father and I spoke of the weather, of Quidditch, of my studies, and avoided the important subjects, for once. I am used to having every journey turned into a lecture on 'allegiance and loyalty'. For some reason, however, Father was not in the mood for a discourse on the virtues of being a Death Eater. Could it be that he was genuinely concerned for his wife's health?

As it were, Father had no need for worry. Not only was Mother in very good health, but also planning a dinner party in celebration of her "dearest darling child's return from torture and misery away from his loving Mother!" Or so I think she said, as I was crushed to her breast. "Narcissa, you do spoil the boy," said Father, "Shouldn't you be getting ready? Tonight is an important night."

Dinner was, as usual, attended by Father's "colleagues". I am not, for the most part, fond of the "old crowd". Crabbe and Goyle Senior, Nott, Pettigrew, Baddock, Bole, Bulstrode, Derrick, Flint, Parkinson, Pritchard, Warrington, Zabini and Avery were in attendance, as was, much to the anxiety of all, Lord Voldemort himself.  Obviously, this was a matter of great significance, as Mother rarely allows Father to host the Dark Lord. 

After dispensing with the usual pleasantries (down with all mudbloods), Voldemort called the assembly to order.  "In attendance are the few who are loyal to our Cause. As you can see, our numbers have dropped dramatically. It is expected that those who wish for glory will make some sort of sacrifice to the Cause. Many of you have children who will soon be of age. We expect them to join us, very soon."

Looks passed around the room, but no one commented. I swallowed very hard, and forced myself to meet the Dark Lord's eyes. Voldemort glanced at each person in turn, licked his thin lips and spoke again. "However, there is a more pressing matter at hand. As you know, our most loyal servants are incarcerated in Azkaban Fortress. We are determined to free them. Lucius!" 

Father stood and conjured a large diagram of England and the North Sea. He poked at the map with his wand and little figures in black robes appeared. "As you can see," he began, "Azkaban is not so very far from our shores. What we propose is a deliberate assault on the Fortress itself. We will place all the human guards under Imperious, and the Dementors will be blind to our presence. Optimistically, if all goes to plan, we will be able to free the Lestranges without any trouble. However, if all doesn't go to plan, we have a backup plan involving polyjuice and Harry Potter."

"Thank you, Lucius." The Dark Lord rose, and everyone else followed. "I thank you for your hospitality, Narcissa." Mother smiled at the Dark Lord and ushered him and the other Death Eaters out. I turned to his Father, who simply smiled. A smiling Father is never a good thing.

"Father?"

"Ah, Draco! Soon you shall be one of us! An instrument of the Cause! Soon! Very soon…" Father trailed off, as he usually does when he talks of "the Cause" and stared into space, visions of torture dancing before his eyes. I stared at Father for several minutes, before creeping out of the room and up to Mother's chamber. For as long as I can remember, Mother has always been a beacon of light within Father's dark dreams. 

"Mother? Are you here?"

Certainly Mother wouldn't allow her baby to be involved in Father's evil scheming. Mother sat in front of her dressing table, removing her jewellery. One light eyebrow quirked as I stepped into the room.

"Draco?"

Mother is perfect. I went to stand beside her in the mirror. And stared. My own eyes locked on hers in the glass. Her hand slid into mine. "It's a pity you look so much like your father. Hopefully you have not inherited his logic. You were not born to serve, Draco. You were born to lead. You have great power, and you will master it, but not yet. The time will come when everyone will know your name. Remember: You will be known and feared." With that she drew me down and kissed me on the lips. "Go to bed, my darling. You should sleep well in your own bed."

The next day I completed my homework for all my classes. The curriculum at Hogwarts is mostly practical, and requires me to perform in front of my professors, as you well know. So, during the day I catalogue shopped with Mother, and during the evening, played chess and expounded on politics with Father.

Not another word was mentioned about the Dark Lord until the day before I was to return to school. After Mother retired, Father took me to his expansive wardrobe. 

"Undress, Draco."

I stared, and slowly undid his robes. What exactly did Father intend to do to me? I knew Father was…different… in his tastes… but…my apprehension must have shown in my eyes, because Father chuckled, before casting a spell to divest me of my shirt and trousers.

I was handed a set of black robes, which I immediately put on. I wasn't particularly comfortable with Father staring at me like that. Father seized me by the arm, and apparated.

We were in a clearing, at the centre of a dark forest. There were at least twenty dressed in the same manner as us, all standing around an altar, facing a makeshift throne. Lord Voldemort smiled.

"We welcome you. We have quite the entertainment in store for you this night. Wormtail! Bring forward the…guests."

The men chuckled as Wormtail disappeared into the forest. I understood now what was going to happen. I couldn't run, or Father would be embarrassed, and I didn't want that. So, I stood with the others, laughing and jeering as Wormtail returned, dragging a Muggle woman and her child with him. The woman was very pretty, and young, somewhere in her early twenties. The child was perhaps three. They were bound, of course, and dirty. All the men stood in a semi-circle around them, leaving space for the Dark Lord's view. Wormtail levitated the woman onto the altar…" Draco stopped.

"Well, go on," Snape said.

"Must I, Sir? Surely you know what happened. You were a Death Eater yourself." Draco gave a slight quiver as he stared at the sputtering fire. "I don't wish to talk about it. Really, Sir."   

"Of course not. I will not force you to speak of it."

"And you won't mention it to Dumbledore…or…Mother. Please don't tell her. I don't want her to think I'm becoming Father. I couldn't bear for her to look at me with such scorn. Promise, please, Sir. "

Snape nodded, "I promise I will not tell your mother."

"Or Dumbledore."

"…Or Dumbledore. Now, go change, and then come back here for some Wakefulness potion.  You cannot miss class on account of a lack of sleep. Here, just take it now. I shall see you in Potions after lunch."

Snape had risen to fetch the potion, and he now stood near the door, waiting for Draco to leave. Draco rose and went to stand in front of Severus.

"Thank you, Professor. I'll try not to worry about it."

Severus nodded, and ushered him out the door. "No. It is best not to dwell on these things. If you need anything, you know that my door is always open to you."