Disclaimer: Though I pine for the rights, the money, the genius, and the writing skills that are JKR...Alas, I own nothing.

Author's Notes: It's been some time now, and I apologize. I've been very limited creatively. Lately it's been all about the fan videos that I make. Now that I've lost inspiration for that, and gained it forthis, here we are! I hope you like this chapter, because it's getting ready for something that I was inspired with by rereading the beginning of HBP.

Also, this chapter is a little longer than the other's so enjoy! D

Chapter Four: Draco Malfoy and the Super Market

The Dark Dungeon appeared to be everything the name implied. It was dark, dank, forbidding, and cells lined the hallways lit only by small torches. Most of the cells were empty, crying out for the prisoners they had once so gloriously held in the Dark Times. The new revolution was moving far too slowly, and the skin-and-bones humans whose screams of agony had floated like music through the dungeon were little and few. In the middle of the dungeon was one room: circular, and moderately well-lit with half a dozen halls leading out of it.

Huddled in a semi-circle around a modestly decorated tatty throne were the minions of the Dark Lord; masks in place, hoods up, and hands folded before them as they bowed their exit.

After all but one had left through the halls (undoubtedly to taunt those held captive in the cramped cells), the pale Lord turned to his loyal servant, who no longer portrayed the bravery he had earlier in Spinner's End.

"Where has Severus gone to?" he questioned in a hiss.

"I-I don't know. He wouldn't say, My Lord!" quivered the dumpy man. He shielded his face with his silver arm, cowering in fear. "He only came to pick up something and to tell me to leave!"

The snaky eyes of his master narrowed suspiciously, and he pursed his lips in thought. "Peter," he acknowledged uncharacteristically, "what was in that box?"

Startled slightly by his knowledge of the box, Peter stuttered his answer again. "Why, I-I don't know. He refused to tell me anything, even in your name!"

Voldemort paused in thought again, tilting his head. His most useful Death Eater was withholding information from him? How strange. How suspicious. How stupid.

"Was the boy with him?"

"Of-of course," Wormtail replied in his shaky voice. "I can only a-assume that he was taking him to a hideaway."

"Don't be a fool, of course he was! It was on my orders! But he was supposed to relay the whereabouts to you. How peculiar… he told me nothing of a box…" the Dark Lord mused, tapping on the arm of his throne impatiently.

---

It was very brightly lit – there was no denying that. There were numbered aisles going all the way up to 15. It seemed to be never-ending maze of food, products, and other various things. And it was crawling with Muggles. At the front of the store were more aisles, this time not containing the multitude of products the first ones had. This set of aisles only went up to 10 or so, and the Muggles placed their shopping items here. To watch it move magically forward.

"How bloody strange!" I exclaimed. "What in the hell is this place?"

"A market," Snape answered dryly, pushing the cart forward. "We're here to buy something to tide us over, if that wasn't already obvious to you."

"No need for the snark, Snape," I scolded. Casting a side glance in his direction, I smirked. "Why, how domestic of you."

"Quiet. Or I'll have you push the cart," he sneered, stopping by some vegetables.

I grimaced when he picked up and tossed in lettuce, tomatoes, and other assortments of vegetables I despised.

He glanced over at my disgusted expression and said, "Even you must've been taught to eat healthily."

"Can we at least get some Chocolate Frogs? Fizzing Whizzbees? Anything?" I whined petulantly, gazing around helplessly. I hated this store. I hated Muggles.

"Perhaps you can try some Reese's and see how you like those," Severus answered me with a satisfied chuckle.

"And just what in the hell is that?" I demanded, pushing aside my brown hair. "I hate doing this, you know? This was just a sorry excuse to make yourself look like what you dream of every night!" I yelled nastily.

"Hold your tongue," he warned me. "Why don't you go fetch some eggs? And make sure they're not cracked!"

"I suppose it's just a small miracle you didn't make me look like a Weasley?" I continued, moving towards the Dairy aisle. "However it's not comforting knowing I resemble Neville Longbottom!"

Severus took the carton of eggs from me angrily. He continued pushing the filling cart along the store's aisles, ignoring every word I said. The only hint he gave of hearing was the flicker of annoyance in his hazel eyes.

"Speaking of a Weasley," he began silkily.

Oh God. My mind began racing, nervous as to what his cocky tone of voice could imply. I feared his sharp tongue, and what it could reveal of me.

"I've been meaning to ask you about something Pansy told me at the start of the term," he continued, grabbing randomly at items we could survive off of.

"That pug-faced bint? What in the world could she possibly say about me?" I seethed angrily, feeling a twinge of hurt that strongly resembled anger at the betrayal of one of my own housemates.

"She seems to be under the impression that you fancy one of the Weasleys," Snape allowed, granting me a glance in my direction.

He was carefully analyzing my reaction to the news. To see if he could calculate my feelings about the suggested Weasley. I had to be very, very cautious.

"RON! OH EW!" I shouted, instead. I shivered, trying hard to scrub the mental image of me fancying that prat.

"…No, not exactly," Severus assured me, a light disturbed tone creeping into his voice. "Unless there's something you want to tell me?" he asked in what could have been considered a fatherly tone. If you ignored the fear behind it.

"NO WAY!" I continued screeching, in that unmanly manner I seemed to possess when I got upset. Bugger.

"Er," Snape tried, failing for once in his life to coherently string together words.

"Gross," I emphasized, hoping to get my point across. "She's disgusting, with her fantasies about me being gay. As if! I'd sooner go after Weaselette!"

"Yes, that's the one!" Snape choked out, moving a little more rapidly down the store and towards the stranger aisles that moved the food to a strange looking machine.

"She Weasel?" I demanded in an incredulous voice.

"Yes, Ginny Weasley."

"Oh I knew Pansy was a jealous little witch, but what ludicrous ideas to explain away my ignoring her!"

He didn't know that Snape suspected Pansy was more on base than Draco thought her to be. Whether he believed it or not.

---

On the bus, it was much more silent than could be expected. It was hardly empty, to any standards, but no one spoke a word above the level of a whisper. Minutes passed by impossibly slowly, yet the trees outside seemed to whiz by impossibly quickly. The only sounds were the wheezes of the driver, the sounds of the brakes, and the whooshes of everything outside zooming by.

"It would be alright, you know?" Severus prodded, moving aside some of our groceries for the new passenger to sit.

"Oh, come off it!" I growled in exasperation. "I thought we had settled this. Besides, she's with Potter now anyway. There, see? It is officially settled."

"Yes, well, if that were true, then I agree. It would be futile to be smitten with her. However, since that is not the case, I find myself having this discussion with you."

"So then, she isn't?" I asked, trying to smother the glee in my voice. And it wasn't because I thought I had a snowball's chance in hell with her. (Not that I wanted a snowball's chance in hell, mind you.) It was because Potter was now stripped of something else he loved.

"There's something peculiar about the way you try to cover a heterosexual attraction for something more… unacceptable in our society," Snape commented softly.

I looked confused, until he tapped his head with his index finger.

"See, the problem with nudging into someone else's thoughts is that you completely misinterpret the context of things," I sneered hatefully, angry at myself for letting my guard down both outwardly and inwardly. "So maybe you should put a stop to that. Now."

"Perhaps I will, Draco, as soon as you learn how to keep your mind shut at all times. It's important to not let your guard down. People are looking for us now, Draco, and I wouldn't be surprised if you led them right to us," Severus lectured coldly.

"Don't worry, Professor, I try my very hardest not to let my thoughts linger on that awful thing you seem to like to call our home."

A tense silence fell between us, and I found comfort in it, because Snape seemed to have forgotten all about his inquisition. Still, I had to get something in.

"So while we're exploring each other's faults and fancies… How about you tell me exactly why you've decided to sport Potter's hairdo in these hideous glamour charms of yours? Sounds like you've been hiding something from me, as well."

"It's not modeled after your nemesis, if that's what you're hinting," Severus answered silkily, in a hushed voice, unshaken by my observation.

"Well then can you explain to me how it is that you look exactly like his older half? You've got the glasses, the hair… Really, the only thing you're missing are his green eyes and scar! But I suppose I can't blame you on the scar; it is rather hideous," I drawled, not bothering to hide the cockiness in my voice.

"Draco," Severus continued, thoroughly ignoring my taunts, "I believe we truly need to discuss any feelings you may have for Ginny Weasley. This needs to be out in the open before I go visit You-Know-Who today."

"What feelings?" I snarled, throwing my hands up into the air helplessly. "She Weasel is tied to the scarred boy with a severe Oedipus Complex."

I could see him fight to smother his smile, as a personal rule. Never let them see you smile.

Finally, however, my brain processed the rest of his statement. With a joy I hadn't experienced in months, I queried, "You're going to visit Him today?"

"Yes, I'm going over this afternoon. We need to smooth over the details of our relocation," Snape said carefully, warily eyeing the Muggle beside us.

"Are you going to App—"

His hand quickly covered my mouth. "Watch your mouth, insolent boy!" he snapped roughly.

I chose to say nothing in reply and merely sunk into my seat, slouching to spite my elders bent on manners, and pouting to show my displeasure.

He didn't know that Snape was not going to "smooth over details," but rather to throw the rising Dark Lord off their scent.

---

All was silent in the afternoon. What few humans had been trapped in the dungeons that morning were now long gone, tortured and killed in the afternoon out of pure boredom. Lying in wait, the Death Eaters were forced to stay underground with their master, with little but several prisoners to entertain them. The dungeons cried out in the groans of pipes, the drips of water, and the eerie sounds that echoed through the halls. The cells desired more carnage, more bodies to suck the life out of.

Severus shivered at the strange feeling. As he felt dungeons' need for life, he contemplated the likelihood of the cells possessing humanlike qualities.

He arrived at the inner sanctum of Lord Voldemort and carefully knelt before his throne.

"Severus," he rasped harshly. With a flick of his wand, Severus felt pain course through his body, but refused to acknowledge it.

Weakness only angered the Dark Lord.

"You're late," Voldemort hissed, releasing the spell with a sense of disappointment hanging in the air.

"I was not able to Apparate," Snape answered silkily. "It was under your orders that I refrain from using my magic, lest the Ministry use it to track me. The bus was late. I am sorry, my Lord."

"Very well," his Lord agreed, settling back into his throne. "Now then, what have you been up to?"

"Since Dumbledore's death, Draco and I have quietly retrieved our belongings undetected. I presume Wormtail has told you of my visit?" Snape queried.

"That he has," Voldemort answered icily.

A long, tense silence hung in the air following those words while Snape quickly calculated what the chilly tone could be implying. He was careful not to dwell on anything resembling fear or defiance for too long, lest the Dark Lord be listening.

"And I presume you know just what about that visit has disturbed me," Lord Voldemort said matter-of-factly, the unspoken demand of an explanation lingering.

"Ah, yes," Severus replied before the answer could be whispered into his mind. "You speak of the box?"

A cool smile played upon Voldemort's white face before he answered. "What is in it?" he demanded. "You very well know your precarious situation within my circle, Severus, so answer wisely."

Vagueness was key in this. Skirting around the issue; much like every other issue that had been raised in question of his loyalties.

---

Night had fallen as it inevitably would, and the house was doused in darkness. A small, dim light glowed softly in the center of the shack, with one lone shadow moving about cautiously, seemingly searching for something. Finally, after hours of this, another shadow joined the first, promptly halting the previous actions of the first. Then the small light was extinguished.

My eyes squinted to adjust in the darkness.

"You won't find it," Severus said quietly while I fumbled around for my bed. "It does not concern you, do you understand this?"

"Yes," I replied insolently, crossing my arms across my chest.

"When will you learn to trust me?" he asked wearily. Through the darkness, I could see him rubbing his temple with long, slender fingers. "You cannot get through this alone, and I have been appointed as your guardian."

"Never!" I exclaimed heatedly, rising abruptly from my mattress in passionate anger. "My mother is perfectly capable—"

"Your mother is helpless," Snape growled cruelly. "She came to me for your protection, you ignorant, hateful boy! You stirring up trouble completely undermines every step she's ever taken to keep you safe!"

I lunged at this statement, only to be held back by an invisible force. I snarled, thrusting my hands forward in attempt to grab him. "MY MOTHER IS NOT HELPLESS! YOU JUST WON'T LET HER NEAR ME! SHE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE THE CHANCE TO HELP ME!"

"Narcissa has no means to help you, Draco," he replied calmly, as though I had not been screaming at him.

"YOU'RE NOT FIT TO SPEAK HER NAME, YOU WORTHLESS—"

"That is more than enough out of you," he sneered, casting a wandless silencing spell on me. "Now you listen to me, because I'm only going to explain this once."

Infuriated and unable to meet his chilly tone with a reply, I sat back down swimming in my own anger and frustration.

"It's clear that I cannot leave you alone during my next visit to our Lord. So I will be forced to take you with me." He eyed me carefully, and continued in a manner which predicted my responses.

"Silly boy, you won't actually be with me. That would ruin everything. Headquarters are currently none of your business – all you need to know is that there are cells that are perfectly capable of holding your roaming eyes and hands. Yes, cells. If you cannot be trusted, Draco, I have no choice but to lock you up during my next meeting," he explained without remorse.

Outraged, but now coming to my senses, I barged in on Snape's thoughts with a tirade of my own.

I will not be put in a cell for your own convenience! As for whatever you think it is you know about what I was looking for – you were wrong. And I have a Dark Mark too, you know? My Lord would be more than pleased to see me; even despite my failure – which was due in part to your rush to rescue me before seeing my potential!

"Clever, young Malfoy. And it only took you three whole minutes to realize the loophole in my spell," Severus said with obvious sarcasm. "I see you finally managed to break through into my mind. Passion can be a powerful feeling, can it not? However, you must learn to put a leash on your emotions. Only then can you harness your powers and full potential."

"Don't you change the subject!" I shouted, suddenly free of the spell.

"Draco, your bouncing mood swings need to be kept under control. You need to channel your energy into one source."

"Why won't you take me to see him directly?" I asked, attempting to maintain a calm tone.

I saw Snape rise from his bed and begin pacing, almost as though contemplating how best to word it so I wouldn't understand everything. I was so tired of not understanding!

"Tell me flat out! You say you want me to trust you? Then quit dancing around the issues at hand," I demanded fiercely, my temper flaring once more.

He didn't know that vagueness was key.

---