Disclaimer: The characters and universe contained within this story are the creations of J. K. Rowling. The story idea is mine.

Chapter One: Spiritus Furtum

Draco stormed out of the Great Hall and was on his way to the dungeons when a light female voice called after him. He grimaced. Hermione was always trying to "connect" with him, ever since he'd become Head Boy and she'd been named Head Girl. She was such a goody-goody.

"What?" he asked, exasperated.

"What's wrong, Draco? Where are you going?" she asked, her eyes soft with unsought concern. Ron Weasely followed her out of the Great Hall.

"What's up Hermione?" He saw Draco and his eyes narrowed. "Why do you bother with this scum?"

"Oh Ron, you have to get over your prejudice," she said wearily, sounding like someone who has tried—fruitlessly—to explain the same truth many times over.

"Why should I?" he demanded. "In case you forgot, his father killed my dad."

"Then you should be happy to know that my father's dying," Draco snapped at him.

"He brought it upon himself," Ron retorted. "He was just another one of Voldemort's minions. I hope Voldemort struck him down himself."

"The actions of the Dark Lord are beyond your comprehension, Weasely." Draco turned to Hermione. "My mother says he will die soon and he wants to see me one last time. Even the Ministry of Magic couldn't deny that. They know his death is inevitable."

Hermione looked sharply at him. "Aren't you worried your father will do something... Death Eaterish?"

"No," Draco responded flatly. "I made it clear to him I will not be following in his footsteps. Besides, he's being held in the Ministry Headquarters and there are Aurors guarding him. What can he do?"

"Well, be careful anyhow," Hermione said. "I'll keep track of your work for you."

Draco nodded his thanks and went off to his dormitory to pack his belongings. As he left, he heard Ron arguing with Hermione.

Draco's first class was Advanced Potions, but he skipped it and went to see Professor Dumbledore instead. He thought Professor Snape would understand, but in any case, he wouldn't take points from his own House.

"So what is it you wanted to talk with me about, Master Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked, peering at Draco with those unnerving blue eyes.

"My mother sent me an owl this morning," he said, looking at the ground. "The Aurors have captured my father. Mother says he is going to die and there's nothing anyone can do to prevent it. He wants to see me, sir."

"Well, you're doing exceptionally well this year. Your grades begin to rival those of Miss Granger. Your professors tell me you have been working hard, and doing this with the responsibilities of Head Boy. I see no reason I could prevent you from visiting your father on his deathbed;" he leaned forward and spoke softly, "however, I would warn you to beware. He is a serpent, Draco, and he may have a bit of poison left to him yet."

Draco met his mother at Platform 9 ¾. She looked like she had aged twenty years since he'd last seen her.

"It was the Dark Lord," she said hoarsely as soon as they were alone. "He wanted him to kill you if you refused to be a Death Eater, if you refused to kill the young Potter boy and his friends."

"What did he do?" Draco asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer. "What did he do to Father?"

"Oh, Draco," his mother hugged him tightly to her. Her eyes misted over as she remembered. "I went with Lucius that night when the Mark burned black on his arm. He was afraid of the Dark Lord's wrath and feared for my safety, but I refused to let him go without me."

"He knew, of course. He knew Lucius had disobeyed Him. He tortured him first." She shuddered with the remembrance of it. "Crucatius, for so long Lucius begged to die. Then, He turned to me. He knew who I was. He said it was good I was there for He could use me to torture Lucius further. He said 'This is what happens to those who disobey me,' and He-" Her voice caught in her throat. Draco gripped her firmly.

"What did he do to you?" he asked, his lips tight.

"Crucatius," she said. "He made Lucius watch as he tortured me. Lucius begged Him to leave me alone, saying he was the one who had disobeyed Him and that the Dark Lord should punish him alone. He said He would leave me be if Lucius would do one thing for Him. Lucius agreed. The Dark Lord gave him a vial of potion and told him to drink it."

"What potion?" Draco demanded.

"I don't know," she replied, "but Lucius did. His face turned pale and the other Death Eaters laughed horribly as the Dark Lord smiled and ordered him to drink it. Lucius said, 'As my lord commands' and drank. He began to shake violently. The Dark Lord grabbed my arm and threw me at him. 'Get them out of my sight,' he snapped, and two Death Eaters held us and dissapearated. As soon as we apparated, they disappeared again. The Aurors found us shortly thereafter. They took Lucius to the Ministry, but he was too weak to tell them anything. The doctors from St. Mungo's say they've never seen the like. He's been loosing strength by the minute. He wanted to see you."

They were escorted into the bowels of the Ministry of Magic and Draco was let into a heavily guarded room. His father was lying on a bed in the corner. He was a sickly white color and his hair was limp and falling out.

"Father!" Draco cried. "What did he do to you?"

"The potion, Draco," he said weakly. "It's what He's using for all who betray him now. I was the first."

"But what is it?"

"Spiritus Furtum," he replied, "Theft of Life. He invented it Himself...with my help. I don't know all of the ingredients, but it requires the blood of the one who is to gain life from it. Blood potions are very powerful." He coughed violently. "There is no antidote."

Draco's face hardened. "You deserve to die, Father. I've said it before and I still believe it, but I'll kill him for touching Mother."

Lucius' dying eyes surveyed his son calculatingly. "Your mother will be heartbroken when I die."

"She'll get over it," Draco replied coldly. "Besides, you said it yourself- there's no antidote."

"No antidote, truly, but the Dark Lord's will decides how fast I die. His blood inside me saps my strength as He wishes. Perhaps..." his voice trailed off.

"Perhaps what?"

"Perhaps," Lucius said, "He could be persuaded to spare me. You know what I mean."

Draco gripped the foot of the bed so hard his knuckles turned white.

"I will never serve Voldemort," he hissed.

"Then you are a fool," Lucius replied calmly.

Upon Draco's return to Hogwarts, he decided to stay in the Head Boy's rooms. Before, he had preferred the companionship of his fellow Slytherins, but now he wanted solitude. Besides, many of the Slytherin seventh-years served the Dark Lord, even if they were not yet officially Death Eaters. He'd had quite enough of Voldemort and his miions for the time being.

He had forgotten the Head Girl's rooms were next to his own. The door was slightly ajar and flickering firelight and companionable laughter spilled out into the dark corridor. There was the sound of a heavy book closing.

"Well, that's the last of my Arithmancy," Hermione said happily. "Now to draw up a work schedule for Draco. Harry, what did Professor Snape assign for Advanced Potions?"

Neither Ron nor Hermione was taking Potions that year. Ron had opted out as soon as he could and Hermione had dropped it after passing her NEWTS.

"Three feet on the history and uses of vampire saliva for Monday, besides a detailed essay on blood potions due by next Friday."

"Seriously!" exclaimed Ron. "That's tough. You should've dropped it like me, eh?"

"It's a requirement for Aurors," Harry replied.

"Say, why're you helping Malfoy anyhow?" Ron demanded.

"Draco's a good person, Ron, and he's a talented wizard. He's also very, very alone and you're not helping any!"

"I just hope he doesn't become one of your pet projects like spew," Ron muttered.

"It's S.P.E.W. Ron! And no, Draco's not a "pet project". He's a human being and I'm treating him as such. Is that too much to ask of you?"

Draco slipped quietly into his rooms and pulled the door softly shut behind him.