Chapter Four: Nefarious Threads

As the first light of dawn edged toward the horizon, a dark shadow burst through the doors of Riddle Manor and raced down the path towards the gates. Atropos's werewolf form lurched in an even rhythm as he cantered down the empty streets of the town, following a scent in a way no other creature besides himself was able to do. His aetherius's aura was faint and weak, too muted by distance for him to taste it clearly. But he could still feel it echoing through his mind. And he would follow it until it strengthened and he could again taste aetherius in the very air itself. Once he could do that, he could find aetherius no matter how well he was hidden. His lupine form never tired, never wavered, as his other forms gave it the extra strength it needed to continue. The werewolf was dominant now, raging in fury at what had happened.

Someone had taken aetherius from him. And worse, hidden aetherius somewhere where Atropos was obviously not supposed to find him. Somewhere that someone had deemed far enough away from the snake speaker that Atropos would not be able to feel aetherius and follow aetherius's aura to him. And Atropos wanted to know who. Which creature dared to do such a thing?

Aetherius would tell him once he found him. He knew that. But he feared that aetherius would somehow wish to protect that creature. Humans had strange emotions. They felt indebted to others too easily. And from the scents in his room, aetherius had not been afraid when the other creature had come to take him away. It was someone aetherius had trusted.

Atropos would make sure that creature never came near his aetherius again!

Snape idly watched his best friend out of the corner of his eye as they stood back behind the gathering of Death Eaters. It was only a matter of time before Lucius realized he wasn't going to find who he was looking far among those assembled before Lord Voldemort. He didn't know how his Lord planned on hiding what had happened to Draco from the boy's father… but then again, perhaps he did not plan to hide it at all. From what he'd heard, Atropos was their Lord's greatest "triumph".

Yet so much had happened after Lucius was sent to Azkaban, and most of it concerned Draco in one manner or another. Snape wondered how Lucius would react. Would he even care?

At one time, Snape would have said so. But Lucius was now not the man he had been. He also hadn't yet seen how Azkaban had changed Lucius – and he knew there would be change; no one left Azkaban untarnished.

"Severus, do you see my son anywhere?"

Snape paused as he felt the weight of steel eyes watching him as he had been watching their owner just before.

"He won't be here, Lucius."

"And why would that be?" Lucius's grip twisted upon the snake head of his cane and Snape could only begin to guess what was going through the Malfoy patriarch's mind. Perhaps thoughts of Draco betraying their Lord, and of what would befall him when Lucius found him.

"Atropos requested him and the Dark Lord gave him away."

Lucius's head turned to look at him, the grotesque mask hiding what Snape was sure was an emotionless expression before he turned and again cast his eyes over the gathering.

"Good." Snape could almost hear the smile in the word – the same smile that meant things were going completely as Lucius wished they were. The same smile that – at least in Snape's opinion – always followed certain disaster. "There is nothing safer for him right now than if that creature is guarding him."

"You must know something I do not know then." Snape kept his tone neutral, though he wanted to shriek how he'd watched that creature tear a werewolf to shreds.

"And you must as well, to be giving me such a look. What say you we trade stories later?"

"Azkaban did change you," Snape murmured, but this time he did not look away from Lucius's gaze.

"As it changes us all."

Snape hardly held in the shudder at those cold, emotionless, weighted words.

Draco stretched as he shook off the remainder of sleep from the night before, and looked around the room in thinly veiled disgust. Spinner's End was not Malfoy Manor - nor was it even close. Snape's sarcastic comment about Draco cleaning the place if he wanted it cleaner rang in his head for a moment before he pushed it aside. A Malfoy did not clean house. That was a job for a House Elf, not a pureblood wizard.

But… there really wasn't anything else to do in this place. Draco shrugged and began shooting cleaning spells at different places in whatever room it was that he had fallen asleep in.

Just as Draco was beginning to think the room might be presentable for a family like… say, the Weasleys, a strange nagging sensation began to pull at his mind, causing him to pause. As he wondered what it was, and prodded at it in his mind, an angry voice exploded into his conscious.

Where are you?!

Draco nearly fell off the bed in shock. The anger from the words pulsed harshly through his mind, causing him to cry out in pain. Immediately, as if sensing the cause for his distress, the anger receded, pushed back by a thread of worry. Again the voice repeated his question, in a much softer tone, almost expectant of an answer… as if he was in the same room as Draco and was talking to him.

Draco wondered whether or not to answer Atropos, wondered if he could push the creature out of his mind. He could almost feel Atropos trying to find him, and coming closer as the seconds ticked by.

I don't know, he finally thought back at the creature, trying to pull away from whatever it was that gripped his mind.

Are you hurt? The question came quickly, as if it would have some connection with Draco "not knowing" where he was.

No.

There was a small thread of satisfaction that wound its way into the mix of emotions that were being broadcasted to Draco's mind from Atropos'. Good. If you were harmed in any way I would have utterly destroyed whoever it was that took you from me.

Atropos thought that Draco hadn't left voluntarily. Draco frowned slightly. The creature couldn't comprehend it apparently. Good, then that would buy him the time he needed to allude the creature until Snape figured out a more suitable method of disposing of the problem. And he would have to, Draco smiled grimly, his mother had seen to that.

But Atropos was getting closer, that Draco could feel in his very core. Every instinct he'd ever possessed screamed at him to run and run now. But where to go? Draco began to pace, edging closer to the doorway of the house subconsciously as he did so. His first reaction would be to go home, to Malfoy Manor. But that was out of the question. Malfoy Manor was under his father's direct control now that his mother was dead, and with his father in Azkaban, the Manor had been locked up until his "return".

Draco sneered at a broken light fixture as he passed it for the third time. The Ministry couldn't legally confiscate the lands, but they seemed to have gone to great lengths to make it as inaccessible as possible. Draco would only have access to it when his father died, and his father was safely in Azkaban. He wouldn't be dying for a long time. Draco sighed and leaned against the wall. Not that he wanted his father to die, but he had nowhere to go that he could count on to be safe. Draco toyed with the idea of apparating to some far off island in the middle of the ocean. The creature didn't have any aquatic forms, so theoretically he'd be safe there…

But Dementors could fly, or levitate… or whatever they did to move around long distances, because they certainly got around easily enough.

This was wasting time, and Draco could almost hear the creature's hurried footsteps in his mind as Atropos neared.

Draco resumed pacing and thinking, his footsteps bringing him to the door of Spinner's End. He would have to get out of the area surrounding Spinner's End to be completely free of Snape's protective wards. He remembered his mother telling him about how they messed with apparation, how she had to apparate nearby to Spinner's End and walk the rest of the way in order to insure she didn't splinch herself, even being as trained in witchcraft as she was. Snape's wards messed with the concentration needed to apparate without splinching yourself in the process… and with the way Draco's nerves were right now he didn't need any added distractions.

Hushed voices made him pause, even in his panic, one hand on the door knob. One, he recognized as Snape's voice – harsh and low, yet urgent. Very urgent. Draco hadn't heard Snape speak like that since the night he'd killed Dumbledore.

"-watched him rip Greyback apart! You did not see that, Lucius, you cannot know-"

Draco's heart leapt to his mouth at the rejoining hiss.

"I watched him make iron brittle and shatter with one look, I watched him return a soul to a body, I watched him raise the dead, Severus! Forgive me if I assume I know a bit more about this situation than you do. You should not have taken Draco from there."

Draco headed for Snape's library, towards where his father's voice had come from.

"I had no choice, Lucius! The damn Unbreakable Vow gave me no choice!"

"Then you had better reconcile with that Vow immediately, Severus, because either it will kill you or Atropos will once he gets here!"

"He has no idea where-"

"You think that will stop him? He's more than just a killer, Severus. Much more. He certainly won't need directions to find-"

Lucius cut himself off when Draco opened the door with a cry. "Father!"

For a moment, Snape thought Draco would run to Lucius and hug him, as any child would – he surmised – if his father had returned from Azkaban. For a moment, Snape thought Lucius would actually let him. But then that moment passed. Draco stood straight at the door and walked calmly into the room, Lucius nodded regally to his son without a hint of a smile on his face, and – not for the first time – Snape wanted to scream at the both of them.

"We were just discussing your situation, Draco," Lucius said, turning back to Snape.

"He's coming." Draco's words were soft, and captured the attention of both men. "He's already close."

The look Lucius sent Severus' way was mocking and Snape glared in return. "Then I suggest you go out to meet him when he comes," Lucius spoke to Draco while staring Snape down, as if daring the man to object.

Snape didn't need to, Draco did that for him.

"What?"

"You heard me, Draco. Go outside and wait for him."

"But-"

The look Lucius sent Draco's way commanded absolute obedience. With that one look, Draco felt as if he was a child again, half-afraid and half-awed of the being that was his father.

Snape's voice followed Draco into the entrance hall. "This is folly, Lucius."

"Snape, do you really think the Dark Lord has control of his weapon?"

Draco didn't hear Snape's answer as he closed the door behind him and sat down on the steps to wait.

His father must know something, he told himself as Atropos' presence grew closer in his mind. He must have figured out something that even Snape did not see.

Draco mocked his own fear. Of course his father knew things Snape did not. His father always knew things that Snape did not. And his father would tell him when he was ready to know.

A dark form lumbered out of the shadows, trembling as it walked. Draco squinted in the darkness, watching the creature come nearer.

It looked like a great, shaggy, wolf but it sniffed the air like a snake would, with its tongue. Draco watched it do so twice before it perked up, a shiver working its way down its entire body, and it set off at a trot towards Draco's waiting place. As it neared, Draco recognized the wolf. Atropos' lupine form.

Father had said to go meet him. For not the first time, Draco wished that his father would have seen fit to tell him what was going on – even if he wasn't ready for it.

Atropos.

The creature started at the thought Draco sent his way, before Draco's mind was enveloped in warmth – like a mental hug.

Aetherius! The creature bounded towards Draco shifting to his true form as he did so. His steps were strange, Draco thought, like the hurried steps of one walking outside in the winter without a warming charm. Draco stood as the creature neared, his steps slowing as if Atropos didn't want them to slow, as if he was fighting for control of his own body.

When he was only steps away from Draco, he began to shiver, but strangely – as if he was trying to hide the tremors inside his body. With each step, he trembled more, his eyes never leaving Draco's own. He never spoke, but those eyes wondered why Draco was just standing there, as if he expected Draco to help him.

He was only an arm's width away when he collapsed on the ground. Draco looked warily at the creature in front of him. Atropos' body was convulsing as if he was in pain, yet his teeth clattered as if he was freezing cold. His lips were starting to turn blue, as he cuddled his naked limbs closer to himself as he shivered.

"You'd better help him," his father's voice rang out like steel – unyielding – behind him.

"But father-"

"You will bring him inside and you will get him warm. Understood?"

Again, the tone allowed no questioning. "Yes, father."

His father left the door open behind him and Draco glared down at the creature collapsed before him. As he pondered how he could move Atropos inside, his eyes roaming over the trembling body, a strange emotion made itself known. Pity.

For though he was a monster, Atropos, uncared for by anyone, could almost have been human if not for the mix of dark creatures marring his very soul. Draco groaned to himself as he closed the distance between them and lifted the figure into his arms. Of all the time to feel pity, he had to begin feeling it now.

Atropos was very light in his arms. Too light, if he judged by human standards. Draco idly wondered if maybe this was Atropos' ideal weight, or if the creature truly was malnourished; he had no difficulty in carrying the creature to the small bathroom in Spinner's End. Draco placed Atropos on the floor and tried to ignore the creature curling around his legs, as he flicked his wand at the bathtub and started to fill it with hot water.

Atropos clung to his aetherius as he fiddled with the strange brass objects next to the white basin. He wished his aetherius would pick him up again; that had been very nice and warm. The strange, watery, swishing sounds stopped and he sighed happily as his aetherius did pick him up again only to yelp unhappily when his aetherius dropped him in the strange basin. It was filled with water.

Atropos looked confusedly at his aetherius, and tugged at the dark cloth his aetherius wore.

Oh no, I'm not getting in there with you, his aetherius spoke with the strange sounds and in his mind.

Atropos keened softly and pulled, sending Draco floundering on top of him in the water.

A guttural purr rose from the back of his throat as he curled up under his aetherius. It was warm, but not warm enough. He was still shivering, and tendrils of cold still played about his body. He would have to go about this a different way. As his aetherius shifted in the water, trying to right himself, Atropos crawled out from underneath him, his form shrinking and lengthening.

Draco sputtered as Atropos' basilisk form appeared, entwining around him. He was in a bathtub with a basilisk. Good Merlin! He couldn't help the slight tendril of fear that permeated his mind. Did Atropos know what he could do if he looked at Draco? Draco squeezed his eyes shut.

My eyes are closed, aetherius. Do not fear. The voice sounded less human and more like the hiss of a snake in his mind.

Draco squawked as he felt the snake's head slither up over his shoulder and down into his shirt, cool scales curling up next to his skin as the rest of the body followed.

This is very nice, Atropos commented, almost lazily, once he'd coiled himself up in a circle on Draco's chest.

Draco sighed, leaning back against the edge of the tub and staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the cold scales to warm. The ceiling was cracked, he noted idly. Snape would have to fix that.

In a few minutes there was movement and the snake's head poked itself out of the collar of Draco's shirt. Just as Atropos had said, a thin film layer covered his eyes and Atropos made no move to look around the room. He did taste the air several times, tongue flicking in and out of his mouth.

Do you know where we are, aetherius? he asked.

Spinner's End. Draco figured he'd better answer the question truthfully this time.

He felt Atropos' confusion. Where?

The home of one of my father's associates, Draco explained.

Is it safe?

Very.

The one who took you away is not here?

Draco pondered how to answer that. He and my father are both here, he finally told Atropos.

Atropos seemed satisfied by that for some reason, the head ducking back down underneath Draco's shirt. I'm tired, aetherius. I will sleep now.

Not right here, you're not! Draco snapped.

I like it right here, Atropos protested as Draco hauled both of them out of the bathtub. Draco's shoes squished horribly as he put weight on them. Disgusting. They were probably ruined.

Where can we sleep? Atropos' tone was insistent and Draco sighed again.

I'll take us there. Even in his thoughts, Draco found he could do a very close impersonation of muttering.

He passed Snape in the hall, who looked as if he was trying not to laugh at Draco's expense. He glared at Snape as he passed and walked back into the room he'd woken up in a few hours prior.

Atropos squawked indignantly as Draco fished him out of his shirt and dropped him unceremoniously on the bed. The form twisted and grew, taking on Atropos' necromancer form.

Ah, a bed. That works as well. Atropos crawled under the covers, looking back at Draco in muted confusion when Draco just stood there. Come sleep.

Draco was about to tell Atropos no when a small shiver racked Atropos' body. Instead, he began working off his shoes – yes, they were ruined – socks and outer robes, before crawling in next to Atropos.

Draco allowed the necromancer to curl up around him with very strained patience. Atropos was moving lethargically, and was already half asleep.

Atropos wound his limbs around his aetherius' body, sighing in satisfaction. His aetherius had been hidden farther away than he had expected; it had taken nearly all his energy to get to him, tired as he had been already from the trip to that prison. He should have told his aetherius to stay put and hunted down the one who had taken his aetherius from him, but he was just too worn out. And besides, his aetherius' sire was here – he would make sure that nothing took his son away until Atropos was rested. Then Atropos would go find the one who had dared try to take his aetherius away.

As Draco leaned back into the pillows, Atropos' head settled on his chest and a small whisper escaped his lips.

Draco started at the collection of vocal sounds that could only have been his name. He thought Atropos couldn't speak. He looked down at the necromancer's almost sleeping form but Atropos whispered no more.

Silver eyes widened as he saw a small design under the dark brown hair that fell across the necromancer's forehead. Gently, he pushed away the thick fringe and his breath caught in his throat as he realized what he was looking at.

A lightning bolt scar on Atropos' brow.

status: beta'd by Ayeshah Harvey-Lomas