Nosophoros

AN: Nosophoros means disease-bearing in Greek. It may be the origin of the word nosferatu.

They were still called Malfoy, even after all these centuries. Bad faith. Pagans, the invaders had called them. Like so many of the old families, they fought against the new rulers and the new religion. Unlike most, they survived the aftermath, due in no small part to the exchange of copious amounts of gold. Traitors, their kind had called them.

The newly named Malfoy family had laughed. They were the wrong religion, they were traitors. Bad faith. Clever. But they were also alive, which was more than could be said for some. Survivors, they had called themselves. And they survived through out the centuries, eventually producing the fair-haired, slender youth who was currently kneeling before the man in dark robes.

"Do you swear your allegiance to me?"

"I do, my lord."

"Do you swear to obey me?"

"I do, my lord."

"Do you swear to further my ambitions?"

"I do, my lord."

"Do you accept and agree to bear my mark?"

"I do, my lord."

The blond youth extended his left arm, rolling the sleeve back. The man lowered his wand to touch the bare forearm. The flesh glowed red and the youth choked back his screams. The wand lifted, breaking contact. Seared into the young man's skin was a skull with a snake protruding from its grinning mouth.

"Rise, Lucius Malfoy, and join your comrades."

Lucius opened his eyes, but it was so dark it hardly mattered. The waning moon left the prisoners in a black purgatory, borrowing light from the wands of the passing guards. Without the dementors Azkaban was not half as terrible, but isolation in the freezing darkness was not something to laugh about.

His eyes ached and Lucius closed them against the glare of an approaching guard's light. They thought that he slept well, that he was easy in his mind, and he wasn't about to correct them. Appearances were everything. And they had good reason for that assumption; Narcissa visited once a week. Who would not feel better with such a devoted wife? They did not know that if she did not come, he would die.

Sighing, Lucius drifted back into the realms of memory and dreams.

It was with excitement flooding his veins that the newly minted Death Eater left on his first mission. Two older Death eaters were accompanying him: Rosier and Nott. Their task was to visit large vampire colonies and persuade them to join the Dark Lord's cause. The largest colony was in the Black Forest, though vampires were scattered across the globe.

Why Lucius had been chosen was a question he didn't dare ask. The heir to the Malfoy estate had not been raised to associate with vampires. Wizards avoided them, despite the fact that they were legally beings. Vampires, simply put, were too dangerous to really be part of Wizarding society. Most wizards looked down on the outcast vampires, including the Malfoy family.

"Welcome, mortals."

"We are honored, milady Rajaratna."

Rosier bowed respectfully to the vampire woman, as did Nott. Lucius did not bow, meeting her eyes coldly. Nott tugged urgently at his robes.

"Be courteous; the Dark Lord desires their help. Bow!"

"Like hell." Lucius said sharply. The vampire laughed. She was curvaceous and dark haired, an exotic beauty with slanted brown eyes, skin like cinnamon, and the practiced sultry look of a professional courtesan. Lucius would not have been surprised if that was her occupation. Her laugh reminded him of dark chocolate, rich but bitter.

"Bold, mortal. It is not often a wizard speaks so to a vampire. But it is no offence. It is rather... endearing, actually. Please, call me Ratna."

She guided them through the trees, which were so thick they blocked out the sunlight, creating a dark vault filled with eerie sounds. The Black Forest was not warm even during the autumn and both Rosier and Nott were shivering. Lucius, wrapped in thick furs, wasn't bothered, but Ratna did not seem chilled either, though she wore only a choli and petticoat. After a lengthy hike, during which Lucius resentfully wondered why they didn't apparate, they reached something that could be described as a village.

It was made up of many sorts of dwellings, from crude huts to a grand, albeit crumbling, mansion. The entire encampment gave of a feeling of being worn-out and dilapidated. A few people were wandering aimlessly through the shady street. They whispered, gazing at the Death Eaters. Lucius got the uncomfortable feeling they were talking about how to dispose of his body. Ratna led them through the small crowd, ignoring the staring eyes as she escorted them up to the mansion.

The mansion was labyrinthine, full of long hallways that looked much the same. Ratna guided them up grand flights of stairs, through rooms filled with dusty sheet-covered furniture, past an infinite number of doors. Finally they reached a part of the mansion that looked lived in. Chairs were uncovered, lights were lit, and the floor was polished. Ratna opened the doors to what seemed to be a massive ballroom.

A body lay in the center of the floor not even five paces away, transfixed by a sword. Lucius cried out in surprise. Ratna laughed at him as Nott and Rosier attempted to look supremely unconcerned.

"It is only Fritz. He likes to be silly. Get up, you're frightening the guests."

The body, now identified as Fritz, stood and faced them, removing the sword. Before their eyes the wound healed, though the damage to his clothes remained. He was small and round, dressed in a Muggle tweed suit. His hair was white, but thick, and he had a bristling walrus mustache underneath a bulbous nose.

"Good sirs, welcome! Welcome to this crumbled abode. I do hope you enjoy your stay and that whatever rooms Seyton puts you in do not leak too much; I believe it will rain tonight." Fritz said grandly, bowing.

"Milord, it is we who are honored-" Rosier began, but Fritz brushed him off.

"I don't use all that 'milord' nonsense. I'm not a lord and I never was. I'm not even the leader of our morbid little band. That's Seyton."

"Is he here yet? He said he'd meet them at five, and we're late. Thanks to someone." Ratna said, looking pointedly at the three Death Eaters. Fritz opened his mouth, but it was another voice that answered.

"Yes, Ratna, I'm here." A thin figure moved from the shadows, materializing into a blond man with a long nose and scruffy beard. He glared at the assembled company as a whole, as arrogant as a king. Ratna stepped forward, smiling sweetly.

"These are Voldemort's emissaries: Nott, Rosier, and Malfoy. This is Seyton, our leader." she explained over her shoulder. Seyton beckoned her closer, pushing shaggy blond locks out of his eyes to see her more clearly.

"Kali wants you." he told her. Ratna rolled her eyes and started toward the door. As she passed the three Death Eaters Lucius heard some of her muttering.

"We're never infecting a child again, no matter what Greyback says." The door closed behind her and her footsteps faded away. Fritz vanished through another doorway, leaving the Death Eaters facing the man they had come to see. Seyton moved away from them towards a boarded-up window. Standing with his hands in his pockets, he spoke gruffly.

"'Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time/ Ere humane statute purged the gentle weal; / Ay, and since too, murders have been performed / Too terrible for the ear. The time has been / That, when the brains were out, the man would die/ And there an end. But now they rise again.' Do you know it?" Seyton turned, addressing them at last. Lucius stared at his comrades, perplexed.

"Your countryman, William Shakespeare, wrote it in his play Macbeth. But never mind." Seyton scowled at them. "Why have you come to the Black Forest vampires?" he asked sharply. Nott stepped forward, bowing.

"Milord, our master wishes to form an alliance with you. Grant him your services; he will offer you prey. When he obtains enough power he will ensure you have what you deserve." he assured Seyton. Seyton turned, meeting each of the Death Eater's eyes. Lucius stared back at him defiantly, refusing to blink. Seyton smiled sardonically.

"The question being, what does your master think we deserve?"

"Malfoy, get up. Your wife is here." The guard was banging on the cell door, grinning at Lucius. It was daylight now; Lucius could tell by the weak light making stripes on the floor as it filtered through the bars.

"Come on. This early in the morning, she must have a confession for you. Who do you think she's fucking while you're in here?" The guard smirked. Lucius had heard them talking, betting on how quickly he lost his temper. It seemed to be a game they played with all the prisoners. The guards were all the bulky kind, the Ministry's equivalent to Crabbe and Goyle. Lucius found them some what contemptible, but couldn't really blame them. They were just naturally stupid.

It was unusual for Narcissa to visit this early. Typically she came around nightfall to avoid traveling in the sun. While she could day-walk, she preferred to avoid it when possible. Something must be wrong for her to come during the early morning.

Lucius rose, brushing his grey robes fastidiously. The guard laughed derisively at the upper-class pretensions, fumbling with the keys to the cell. The truth was that Lucius was being driven mad by the dirt and grime of Azkaban more than by the antics of the juvenile guards.

The guard opened the cell door and started down the hall. Lucius followed silently, ignoring his fellow prisoners. The guard led him to the visitor's room, a miserably cramped place furnished with a few chairs and a table. Narcissa was sitting on one of the chairs, wan and tearful. Lucius's concern mounted.

"It has been requested that this visit be private. The Ministry allows for such meetings if both prisoner and visitor agree to a search and questioning under Veritaserum afterwards. Do you both agree?" the guard asked in a bored voice. Lucius raised his eyebrows and nodded. What was Narcissa up to? Why had she requested a private visitation?

"Yes, yes, now go away." Narcissa said in annoyance. Amused, Lucius had to hide a grin. Even when distraught his wife had such an imperial air. The guard left, slamming the door behind him. Lucius blinked. The time given for the visit had not been announced, as protocol dictated.

"I paid huge sums of money to get them to leave and let us talk as long as necessary. After all you've done, all the gold you've given them, and I've got to line their coffers just to see you." Narcissa explained. She looked too miserable to really care, though. Her tear-stained face turned up to him as he moved to touch her shoulders.

"Cissa, what is so important that you had to see me now? Is everyone alright?"

"Yes, they're fine. Marya, Aleera, and the girls will be at the manor by tonight. But Draco..." Narcissa's eyes filled with tears and Lucius felt dread begin to well within him. His only son was headstrong, a danger to himself and others at times. What had happened? "He's been... ordered to appear before the Dark Lord." Narcissa wept.

Moving with the speed of a snake, Lucius clapped a hand over her mouth. Her blue eyes, rimmed in red, stared at him blankly over his grubby hand. He cursed and wiped his had uselessly on his tattered robes.

"Don't talk about him. They are bound to ask about him and under Veritaserum I won't be able to lie. You'll have to-"

"I'm not an idiot, Lucius." Her regal manner was back, her chin up, and her voice strong. Lucius smirked; Narcissa was strong and proud, even when she was afraid. She hiked her robes up, reached between her legs, and produced a vial no larger than her pinky. Smoothing her robes back down, Narcissa spoke as if nothing had happened. "Severus made us an antidote as soon as you were taken, remember? I'll hide the vial." She glared at him reproachfully. Lucius kissed her on the forehead, smiling.

"Our modern justice system is so lovely, don't you think, dear?" he asked, but instantly sobered. "Why does the Dark Lord want Draco? He's only sixteen; he's still in school." Narcissa sighed, standing and opening her arms to her husband. Tenderly, Lucius gathered her up, holding her tightly.

"I think he wants Draco to replace you. After you were captured he was furious. You were in charge and failed. He knows that Draco is your only son, the last Malfoy. If Draco becomes the Dark Lord's newest Death Eater, he'll be eaten alive. That circle is no place for a child." whispered Narcissa into his shoulder.

Examining the slight woman before him, Lucius felt a pang of regret. He had always provided for his family, but it was hard to fight alongside the Dark Lord and be there for them too. After the first war they had settled down to be quiet malcontents, protected by family names and gold. The return to arms was not easy, though Lucius had chafed against the blood traitors' regime. Stretching his legs felt good, but he had a family now. He wasn't an idealistic teenager anymore.

"Cissa, you'll have to protect him. I know you don't want to, but to defend Draco you'll have to become one of us. Take the Dark Mark alongside him. The others will help you. He'll be safe."

"You can be safe in a coffin, but Draco doesn't belong there yet. I don't want another one of my family disappearing into the Dark Lord's war! Bella, Andromeda, Sirius, Regulus, Evan, Rudolphus, Rabastan, and now you. This is splitting the families apart! People die, people leave, and people are separated. It's not fair. He's just a boy!" she wailed.

"Do you want to stand against the Dark Lord, Narcissa? Draco wouldn't have a chance then. The Dark Lord's cause is right, even if this war is not easy, and he is powerful. He would kill Draco if he defied him. You know it." Lucius told her sternly. He didn't like to remember her cousin was Evan Rosier.

"I know it, why do you think I don't want a Death Eater as a son? Draco is sixteen; he's proud and insolent. He can't manage something a serious as this. He'll get himself killed, like Evan and Regulus." Narcissa drew away. Her shoulders hitched with repressed sobs. "I'll do it, I'll protect him, he's my boy. But Lucius, I'm afraid. The Malfoys aren't in favor anymore. We'll be wiped out. He will kill us."

She might have been right, but it was hard to tell. The Dark Lord was difficult to read. He was happiest when angry and obedience was the only way to placate him. He was strong, however, and could put things to rights. The wizarding world had to be saved. That was what really mattered. Sighing, Lucius bent and kissed Narcissa. Nuzzling down to her neck he spoke in a muffled voice.

"Tell Draco to write me. Nothing important, since both the Ministry and the Dark Lord will be reading it, but just to humor me. I'm bored. I think a few of the inmates have gone mad from the ennui."

"Lucius, this place is horrible. Bella said she heard voices muttering to her all the time. She kept seeing ghastly things and remembering the night Andromeda left. God, that night... Are you alright?" Narcissa asked, hugging him.

"Yes, Azkaban is just dull and dirty without the dementors, nothing more. Have you eaten today? I'm hungry." Lucius licked his lips. She shook her head, looking regretful. Sighing, he kissed her again.

"Goodbye, Cissa. Give the others my love and tell Draco to write. We can play a long distance game of chess like we used to. Now give me the antidote."

Lucius returned to his cell and his lonely dreams after his questioning, striving not to remember his family was franticly trying to survive in the brutal world outside Azkaban. He almost wished they were in here with him.

The silence between the Death Eaters and the Black Forest vampires was awkward over the meal that was served around nine that night. All of the vampires were there, including the ones who had been in the street at their arrival. It reminded Lucius of the meals served in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The huge dining hall of the mansion dwarfed the assembled group. Including the Death Eaters there might have been thirty people eating the meager meal.

Ignoring the poorly cooked chicken before him, Lucius stared at the little girl across the table, between Fritz and Ratna. She looked to be about four, a slender creature with a ragged mop of brown hair. Her eyes were wide at the appearance of three newcomers. It was clear she was frightened by them. Ratna kept shaking her grip off so she could use her fork.

"Her name is Kali." whispered the vampire on Lucius's right. He was effeminate, with thick auburn curls and ridiculously long eyelashes. Lucius had shifted his chair as close to Rosier as he could in the effort to avoid the foppish vampire.

"They infected her as a child two years ago. She exasperates Ratna to no end, she can't stand kids. But milord Seyton insists." He continued as if unaware of Lucius stony silence. "And Ratna would never disobey him."

"So, milady Kali, how old are you?" Nott asked the child. She tried to hide her face in the blue silk sari Ratna was wearing, but Ratna shook her off impatiently. Kali hung her head and spoke to her dinner plate.

"Six next month, milord." Her voice was reedy and nervous.

"Kali, they're wizards. We don't use honorifics for them, only vampires we don't know well." Ratna scolded. The child slumped dejectedly, only to receive a sharp poke in the ribs. The vampire beside Lucius frowned before turning back to their one sided conversation.

"I am Calic Corrompre. And you are?"

"Lucius Malfoy, milord." Lucius said nastily. Corrompre ignored the tone, smiling serenely. He ate another bite of chicken, chewing thoughtfully. Lucius suddenly wondered why the vampires were bothering to eat at all. He knew from his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes that vampires could eat, but didn't need to.

"Why are you all eating?" he asked Corrompre stiffly. Corrompre looked at him in amusement. Lucius resisted the desire to squirm uncomfortably. Relenting, Corrompre shook his head.

"It still tastes good. We'll all get our nourishment later, when Voldemort's followers are sleeping. We wouldn't want to disturb you." he said. Lucius bristled.

"Lord Voldemort." he hissed. Corrompre ignored him, mostly because Nott was now speaking, asking about how the vampires spent their time. It was merely polite chatter, but Ratna jumped in eagerly.

"Some of us work in Altensteig at night. Most of us stay here, though. We've developed our own sort of town. We correspond with other groups of vampires, we read, we debate laws and decrees, we create and listen to music. Seyton has even proposed a new study of vampirology to the German Ministry of Magic."

"Is there such a subject as vampirology?" Rosier asked with a seductive smile. Groaning internally, Lucius glanced at Seyton, who was sitting regally at the head of the table. As he had expected, the vampires' leader was livid. Lucius suspected Ratna was Seyton's mistress, but Ratna returned the flirtatious grin. Few women could resist Rosier, even those who already had a partner.

"Vampirology is an old subject, but not many have studied it. The tendency of the scholars who did to vanish or die mysteriously deterred others. It's opened up recently, as Ministries have started passing more vampire control laws. A Dr. Seward has been campaigning for our 'tagging'. It's been known for ages in the wizarding world that a vampire can infect the wound from feeding with a venom that will to create another vampire. When that person dies they become a vampire. And of course we need blood and age slowly, though if we need to we can age normally. Kali here doesn't have the strength of will to do so yet. How Seward can think she might be hazardous and needs to be enslaved for the good of humanity..." She scowled at the mousy haired child.

"Sorry, Memsahib." Kali muttered. Ratna ignored her.

"If we proved ourselves less dangerous, followed their laws instead of kidnapping humans to feed ourselves, we wouldn't be rounded up like cattle! Our abilities do not make us gods." Calic said hotly. Fritz, seated on the other side of the table, frowned at his chicken and stood to leave, but he couldn't escape as Ratna stood to block him. He was short and she was tall, making them equal in height, but Ratna looked so furious she was the more intimidating figure.

"Will you just run away again? Pick a side, you coward! Either you will bow and present your neck for the humans' yoke or you will stand and fight! You cannot have both!" she shrieked, seizing his arm. There was a flurry of movement and Fritz's arm was suddenly dangling at an odd angle. Ratna lunged again, sharp fingernails extended like a cat's claws. Calic stood up, but he would have to get around the table to separate the two brawling vampires.

"Ratna. Stop." The cold order came from Seyton. His eyes flashed fire and Ratna's hands lowered. Staring openly, the three Death Eaters rose. Fritz's broken arm was healing, twisting back to the proper angle beneath his tweed sleeve. "Take Lord Voldemort's followers to their rooms. We will go to feed."

Narcissa had returned to the manor just in time to welcome the guests. Draco stood beside her, looking down the front steps to the four women. They were understandably worried about Lucius, and couldn't wait the extra hours for nightfall to arrive. The two younger women were wearing heavy hooded cloaks even the summer heat. Both of them pulled their hoods back and smiled up at Draco. Smiling back, he came down to meet his sisters.

Both of the young women swept forward and met him half way up the stairs. He hugged them both and was enveloped with their unique scent. Draco had helped them make their perfume when he was eleven, searching the greenhouse for various plants with them. It was sweet and musky, but unlike anything else he had ever encountered.

He stepped back to look at them. Carmilla, the younger one at nineteen, looked the most like him. She had the pointed features of a Malfoy, but her mother's hazel eyes. Her hair was a sleek strawberry-blond, mixing Lucius's white blond with her mother's red. Under her cloak Carmilla wore the latest French fashion, robes of several dozen layers of chiffon. Draco's older sister, Erzsébet, was more practical, wearing plain, sturdy robes. She was tall, thin, and dark haired, with a sharp widow's peak, giving her the look of hawk. Only her grey eyes marked her as a Malfoy.

Carmilla, ever the French coquette, lingered for a moment to kiss both of her brother's cheeks, but Erzsébet, glancing fearfully up at the sun, pulled them both up the stairs. Once they were inside she turned to Draco, looking distraught.

"Father? He's alright? Mother didn't say..." Erzsébet's complexion was that of a native Hungarian, so pale her skin was nearly translucent, but she looked like parchment. Draco laid a comforting hand on her arm.

"He's fine. Mum went to see him this morning." Draco smiled, remembering why she had gone. He knew he couldn't tell Erzsébet and Carmilla yet, but he swelled with pride at the recollection.

Narcissa and the other women entered the hall, looking grave. Draco extracted himself from his sisters and went to greet his father's other wives. Marya smiled calmly, but Aleera was weeping softly into Narcissa's shoulder. Leaving his mother to calm the maudlin woman, Draco spoke to his step-mother.

"How have you been, Marya? Has the war reached Romania yet?"

"No, the Dark Lord has only just asked that I reach out to other vampires. I don't think he wanted his return to come out too quickly and he's had to deal with your Ministry's capture of many of his close supporters."

Draco grimaced. Marya was as single minded as she had been for the past year. Erzsébet had written him letters about her mother's increasingly callous treatment. She and her mother had never gotten on well, but with the war Marya had become the Death Eater she had been when Lucius had first met her. That Death Eater was utterly devoted to the Dark Lord and had no time for children. Erzsébet now dealt with the mother she thought had vanished with the Dark Lord's defeat when she was six.

There was a soft wail from Aleera as she crumpled to the floor. Carmilla rushed forward to help her mother. The red haired woman was lifted up between her daughter and Narcissa, who guided her to a chair. She sat, clutching a handkerchief to her mouth.

"Mère, vous êtes fatiguée." Carmilla said, then remembered where she was and switched back to English. "You should go to sleep." Draco stepped forward, politely offering his arm. Aleera waved him off, sniffling.

"I am hungry. I haven't eaten much since Lucius was caught." She managed to say between hiccups. Suddenly feeling nervous, Draco backed up. As one, Carmilla and Erzsébet moved to his side, drawing him away.

"Come and help us unpack." Erzsébet said lightly, slinging her satchel over one shoulder. "Leave them to comfort each other."

"Try and find us something to eat." Carmilla called to the three women as she hustled Draco out the door.

Erzsébet led them to her room and closed the heavy oak door. Turning to Carmilla, she scowled, clearly annoyed.

"When is the last time you ate?" she demanded. "Do you realize what could happen if you or your mother lose control around Draco?"

Dropping into a chair Carmilla buried her face in her hands, the picture of exhaustion.

"A week and a half ago. Maybe more, I don't know. It's been hard to find a Feeder who won't report us to the Ministry now that the Dark Lord has returned. Mère est... she is worried we will starve without Father."

"No. We won't. I won't let you all die; I'll let you feed off of me first. We can make it until he's free." Draco assured her fiercely. No one dared mention when that would be and all three looked quickly away to blink back tears.

Lying down on the tidy, un-slept in bed Draco glanced around the room. When Erzsébet was away this room was off-limits to everyone but Tattle, the house-elf. The comforter he lay on was black suede edged with white rabbit fur, warm but difficult to clean. Pelts covered the floor, protecting their feet from the chill of the stone. It was a testament to Lucius's wealth and indulgence that Erzsébet was allowed such expensive decor. Tattle spent entire days cleaning the room and its textiles.

"Why didn't the Dark Lord save him? He saved your Aunt Bella!" Erzsébet cried suddenly. She shook with rage. "That woman would not think twice about throwing Father to the Ministry, the cold hearted bitch."

"She's in hiding, what did you want her to do, storm Azkaban?" Draco's face clouded with anger as well. Standing up, he began to pace. "It's Potter's fault, not Aunt Bella's. He's mocked our family for years- he lost us Dobby and accused Father of opening the Chamber of Secrets in second year, the idiot. He's too nosy for his own good and if he had the chance he'd root you all out and turn you in to the Ministry. Or kill you while maintaining his holier than thou attitude." Prancing across the be-furred floor, Draco mimed a staking, looking sanctimonious as Carmilla collapsed into giggles.

"It's not funny! Potter escaped, Father's in Azkaban, and the Dark Lord is furious. God, what I would give to have Potter here right now..." Erzsébet reached for her wand, turning it idly in her hands, and sat down on a leather chair. "I'd torture him with Crucio, and then I'd flay him alive and hang his skin on the manor gates."

Draco grinned and Carmilla giggled again. Erzsébet did not like other women, except for Carmilla, but she was violent towards anyone, male or female who threatened those she loved. She was violent and vindictive in general. It was something she had learned from the cradle and that had lately been encouraged by her mother. She had been sworn as a Death Eater last summer at her own insistence and had helped her mother ever since. The murder of Karkaroff had made Marya proud of her daughter, for a time.

"Don't waste an opportunity like that! If Potter were here we could short sheet the bed and convince him to take a nap, just to watch him struggle. He'd figure it out quickly, but we could blame it on Tattle. Then, while he was sleeping, we could strip him naked and dump him in the woods. When he woke up we could scare him half to death with masks or something. It would be so funny!" Carmilla laughed brightly.

Her siblings smiled indulgently. Sometimes Carmilla was immature, but she was clever. Her pranks almost always worked, since she could talk anyone into anything. It was always best to be in a different country on April Fools' Day, and even that did not always spare Draco, her favorite test subject, from some embarrassing problem she had caused. He and Erzsébet had learned to laugh her jokes off.

"Thanks for the suggestions, but I think I can handle Potter myself. Anyways I have something to tell you-" Draco started, but Tattle walked in and bowed deeply. She was a devoted servant because the Malfoys had taken her in before she had to go to the Office of House-Elf Relocation. Even so, after Dobby, Draco was going to watch his tongue around her; the last thing his family needed was their house-elf carrying tales of Death Eater activities to the Ministry. Particularly since Tattle had long since discovered other family secrets.

"The mistresses say they have prepared some soup and a salad. You are all to come down to the dining room at once." Tattle said, keeping her large blue eyes trained on the carpet. As Draco and Carmilla left Erzsébet knelt down and slapped the diminutive house-elf. Her shrieks about how her room had not been properly aired followed them down the wide hallway. When Erzsébet caught up with them on the staircase, no one spoke. The Malfoys understood each other.

It was a subdued group which sat around the polished table in the elegant dining room of Malfoy Manor. The five women were ravenous, barely tasting the salad due to distraction. Draco ate in silence, embarrassed by the way the food filled his stomach, easing the bite of hunger.

The door to the kitchen opened and Tattle brought in a tureen of tomato soup. She served each of the women, starting with Narcissa, and lastly Draco. As Tattle began to leave there was the clatter of a spoon hitting the floor and a bone china bowl crashed into the wall, splattering tomato soup across the indignant face of Abraxas Malfoy the First. His protests were drowned out by Marya's wordless scream of rage.

Narcissa leapt up, trying to restrain the older woman, shouting back at her to calm down. Aleera burst into tears yet again and Carmilla franticly tried to wipe soup off her robe as she laughed hysterically. Marya was racing around the table, heading for Tattle, whose wide blue eyes were bulging even more than normal. Draco stared as his step-mother lifted Tattle into the air and sank sharp canines into her neck.

There was nothing in the world that could have made it clearer to him. He was in his own home with five starving vampires. Family or not, they were dangerous, even to him, who they loved. His father had always insured they were well fed, but no longer. A shiver worked its way up his spine. He was on his own until he could be infected as well.

Angry, Narcissa pulled Marya off of the house-elf, shouting at Aleera to get a grip on herself. Marya was fighting tooth and nail, snarling at Narcissa and Tattle alike. Having given up on salvaging her robe, Carmilla joined the fray, sizing the crazed woman's wrists.

"We're going to die! We're going to die without him! I won't let it happen! I'm going to the Dark Lord! He can save us!" Marya screeched. This announcement only made Narcissa cling tighter.

"You can't! He'll kill us himself, you idiot! Do you really think the Malfoys are in favor after that disaster in the Ministry?" Narcissa said bitingly. Marya went limp and pale. It was clear she had never considered being out of favor with the Dark Lord.

"I'm a Farkas, not a Malfoy. I wasn't even there. I was... loyal." she whispered without conviction. Silence greeted this statement as Narcissa let go of her. The tomato soup dripped down across the sullen face of Abraxas the First like blood. Finally Carmilla loosed her grip on Marya's wrists, looking serious for once.

"We were all loyal, even Draco, Narcissa, and I, and we aren't even Death Eaters. And we are all Malfoys, whatever the world knows. The Dark Lord knows and that's what matters." she said. Draco looked at his mother. She would have to tell them now; they would have to leave soon. Narcissa took a deep breath.

"I must tell you something. The Dark Lord... he wants Draco to become a Death Eater. When I went to Lucius this morning he said I should join the Dark Lord with Draco. To protect him."

"Mum, I'm not a child." Draco complained.

"No. She is right. Being a Death Eater is dangerous. We will all watch you." Erzsébet spoke serenely, as if her mother had not just thrown a bowl of soup, attacked the house-elf, and denied her marriage. As if her little brother was not about join a war. But as she bent her head to sip her soup, Draco caught the glitter of tears.

Sometimes he wondered if his family's ambition would kill them all- if they did not manage to kill each other first.

The house they were in was musty and abandoned, but Draco didn't care. He stood beside his mother before the Dark Lord. Fear coursed through him, pumping adrenaline to his brain. Now he realized why his father, sister, and step-mothers had pledged their lives to this man's cause. He was awe inspiring.

The Dark Lord spoke in a soft voice, caressing the Ss a bit longer than normal. The two blonds, the pale woman and the slender youth, replied in unison.

"Do you swear your allegiance to me?"

"I do, my lord."

"Do you swear to obey me?"

"I do, my lord."

"Do you swear to further my ambitions?"

"I do, my lord."

"Do you accept and agree to bear my mark?"

"I do, my lord."

Both of the kneeling Malfoys extended their arms, rolling back the sleeves. The Dark Lord pressed his wand first against Narcissa's and then Draco's flesh. Both winced, though Malfoy pride did not allow them to scream. Each now bore a brand of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth.

"Rise, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, and join your comrades."

Dear Father,

Mum said that you wanted me to write and I am more than happy to oblige. It is a pity, you being in Azkaban. People keep telling me sixteen is such a time of growth for a young man. I wish you were here to witness it.

Several houseguests have arrived: Marya, Aleera, Carmilla, and Erzsébet. They have settled in, but there was quite a scene at diner as there was nothing but soup and salad to eat. Everyone has been adequately fed now, though.

I believe Mum mentioned chess. I will send extra parchment with this letter so you can track the game. They will give you ink and a quill, right? I assume I will be white, as always. My first move: e4.

Father, Erzsébet is still having trouble with her mother. Marya is ignoring her more than ever. I know there is not much you can do, but I would appreciate your advice.

Love, Draco

AN: This is the start of a most complicated story. It is the retelling of Half Blood Prince, but I've made some additions to the cast... Any one who can tell me the origin of three or more of my OC's names gets... a yet to be determined prize (Kittey Rin is not allowed to guess!).