While the rest of the school headed off to Hogsmeade, the door to a dungeon office closed behind Draco Malfoy, and he and Professor Snape were alone. A fire burned on the hearth, already crackling green.

Snape was brisk, his words and movements clipped to prevent them from spiraling into agitation. "Occlumency is to be engaged constantly while you are in the manor. With Legilimens like the Black sisters and the Dark Lord, if they can see you, they can read you."

Draco frowned. "My mother would never - "

Snape towered to his full height, interrupting. "I wonder, Draco, have you ever seen your mother truly desperate? Genuinely terrified? Have you?"

He didn't know how to answer.

"Well, I have seen her exactly like that," Snape said, almost in a whisper close to Draco's ear. "And I can tell you, there is NOTHING she wouldn't do." He leaned away, less intense but still giving orders. "Drink this," he said, uncorking a small vial.

"What is - "

"I said, drink. It fortifies your strength, to allow you to continue the Occlumency even after the energy in your body begins to flag."

Draco tossed the potion down his throat, grimacing as Snape nodded. He pressed a second, identical vial into Draco's hand. "Try not to take it. If you take two vials in a single day, you may wind up completely unconscious as a rebound effect. But do not hesitate to drink it if you truly need it, if it gets you back here."

Draci rolled the vial between his fingers before sliding it into his pocket.

"Don't stash it there. You'll need to change into traditional clothing," Snape said. "It wouldn't do for the Dark Lord to find any traces of the Muggle word about you. I have taken the liberty."

He summoned a packet of Draco's own clothes he had somehow obtained from the dormitory. As it hit Draco in the chest, Snape spun around to give him privacy.

"Right down to the pants?" Draco asked when he saw how thoroughly Snape had packed. "He's not going to have me strip off, is he?"

He saw a shudder run through Snape's shoulders. "It is not likely, but neither is it impossible."

Draco gulped at the dungeon air. In spite of the fire, it was cold enough to raise peaks along his bare skin as he slipped out of his clothes.

"Review," Snape said, his back still turned. "Bellatrix Lestrange is…"

Draco began, reciting by rote memory. "My mother's older sister. Schooled with my father. Murderer, maimer, fugitive. She remembers me as a baby, and I will do well to present a face of innocence and affection to her."

"And Rodolphus Lestrange…"

"Is not as dull and useless as he seems. I should guard myself around him as if he were a watchful, formidable foe, no matter how drowsy or drunk he appears."

"Peter Pettigrew…"

"Otherwise known as Wormtail, he is as opportunistic as his animagus rat form. Bows and scrapes to the Dark Lord but has no real love or loyalty for him. I must never say anything it would be fatal for him to overhear, because at any time, he may be listening."

Snape paused, shuddering again as he said, "Nagini…"

"That's not a person."

"Not anymore, but it once was."

Draco's voice was muffled as he draped a scarf around his head and face, almost like a Death Eater's mask. "An enormous viper, not a true snake but a magical creature open to possession by the Dark Lord. Avoid it."

Snape sensed that Draco was fully clothed and spun around to face him once more. "Good. Now, something new. Lucius Malfoy..."

"Come on, Sir, there's no need - "

"Lucius Malfoy…."

Draco took a deep breath. "I don't dunno - he has no more passion for the Dark Lord's vision. Would like to escape to protect his family, but fears that nothing would expose us to the violence of the Dark Lord more than deserting him."

Snape jerked one shoulder uneasily but did not correct him. "And how ought you to behave around him?"

"Around my father?"

"Yes, Draco. There may be nothing more important than this."

He rolled his head miserably. "As if I am my father, at the same age, risking too much, making mistakes. Only this time, he can detect it, go back and stop me - himself - us. I don't know, Sir."

"That will do. That will do for now," Snape said, coming close again. "And last of all, Narcissa Malfoy."

Draco swallowed hard. "I treat her with coldness. Bravado. Like I think I've outgrown her - so bad and rude she can tell that I'm acting, in spite of my Occlumency."

Snape nodded. "Yes, good. Mention my involvement to her somehow, and then you may trust her not to interfere."

"Trust, Sir?"

"Foremost and always." He strode forward, shepherding Draco toward the fire. "Remember that by merely presenting yourself at the manor, showing your face to your aunt, you placate the demands the Dark Lord has been making on your parents. Do nothing but appear and return. Through this, you buy them time - allow others to make moves of their own."

"Sir, there's one person you haven't quizzed me about. One more person I might find in the manor today." Draco said, not moving to the fire, waiting.

Snape pursed his lips and tapped them with his fingertip, pacing away from Draco. "The Dark Lord," he said. "In the unfortunate event that you meet him, you will bow your head. You will speak with reverence, deference. You will answer his questions and say no more. Above all, you must not mention Potter. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Accept the Dark Lord's compliments, but in no wise believe them. Do nothing to appear as a threat. If at all possible, you will not look him in the eye. Your Occlumency is precocious, it shows talent, but it is still a new skill. Do not push it beyond your capacity or…"

He stood by Draco, smoothing the sleeves of his fine wool robe, gripping his arms in each of his hands. "Take care, boy."

They couldn't look at each other. Draco's throat was tight, his voice rasping as he said, "You'll watch through the fire, won't you sir?"

Snape sighed. "Through this fire and into the manor's grand hall, yes. But if they take you to the drawing room, the view will be obscured, protected. I won't - " His voice was breaking into a rattle. He forced a cough. "Be wise, Draco. The time has come."

From a small pouch behind the clock on the mantle, Snape shook a handful of Floo powder into Draco's palm. With a shout and a flash, Draco was gone, Snape's grim, hawkish face and his dim office disappearing. In its place the bright, vaulted hall where Draco's mother's grand piano sat at the foot of a magnificent staircase came into view.

As the roar of the Floo died away, other noises flooded into Draco's perception - voices without words. There was a high, shrill cheering, growing louder, jarring in time with the clack of hard-soled shoes over marble-tiled floors.

Quieter than this human racket, yet still audible somehow, was the sound of a hiss. Even before he knew the source of it, the sound shot panic through Draco's body - his nerves and skin. A massive snake, green and writhing over the smooth, cold floors, was racing at him, twisting along the corridor from the drawing room.

Behind it, capering and cackling, was a witch with wild black hair, brazen, carrying on as if she belonged in the house. She followed the snake, eager to see the spectacle that would unfold once they reached the hall. The snake was about to kill and feed on whoever had dared to intrude on Malfoy Manor.

That could not be him.

The roar and blast of hot air from the fire behind him told Draco that it was indeed him. He lurched into action, lunging away from the fireplace, leaping on top of the piano, his wand out, completely heedless of all bans on under-aged magic.

As he darted away from the snake's target, the scarf he had wound around his head and shoulders slipped, one end falling to hang long and loose to his knees. His face and hair were now uncovered, fully visible. At the sight of him, the dark witch's cackling changed. She was no longer laughing, but shrieking, calling the snake back, pleading with it.

It was impossible to tell whether the creature couldn't understand, or couldn't care less, but it was unmoved by the witch's orders. With more speed, more hunger, it closed in on Draco, near enough now for him to see the red of its eyes. Its lower half still coiling forward, the front of the snake reared up, its fleshy maw snapping open. From between its yellow fangs, Draco watched its tongue flick and sizzle, tasting him on the air as he raised his wand to deliver a hex he knew wouldn't be enough to repel its attack.

Before either of them could strike, the snake made an oddly human sound, a hiss of anger and disgust. It veered away, mouth closing, body curling on itself, rolling through the piano legs and gliding back to the drawing room, as if sulking.

It was gone, and Draco slid off the top of the piano, slumping onto the keys with a loud, terrible chord. He stayed there as the piano's noise died away along the high ceiling, his hand dropped over his pounding heart.

But the onslaught wasn't over yet.

"It's him!" the dark witch was calling, skipping toward him and pulling him off the piano by the front of his robes. "Come all on his own, like a good boy."

Draco blinked innocently at her. "Auntie Bella? Is it you?"

She let out another squeal. "Yes, my darling. I'm here." She clutched him to herself, the bones of her prison-emaciated frame palpable through her gown. She pressed her cheek to his and turned to whisper in his ear. "So grown up. So well-developed. Auntie has missed you. Oh, look at you..."

She was indeed looking him over, leaning back to see him as her hands stayed clawed in his sleeves. She started at his feet, her mad grin expanding as her eyes traced the long lines of his legs, her hands releasing his sleeves and splaying on his chest, formed to the contours of his torso as she followed the V to his waist and back to his shoulders. She was lifting her head to examine his face just as he recovered from the shock of the snake attack and being groped by his aunt enough to churn up the defensive waves of his Occlumency.

It was done barely in time. Her eyes met his, and he felt her charge at his mind. He read the surprise in her face, no magic required, as she capsized in his unforeseen skill in Occlumency. Her expression went from startled to delighted. "Good boy! Such a good boy!" she said. "Not our precious golden baby any more, but a true wizard who knows how to keep his own mind. Ready for service..."

He looked away, as if embarrassed, because he was embarrassed. It was enough of an excuse to break their eye contact and relieve the pressure of her invading Legilimency. He realized how weak Potter had been, and how even Snape's harshest attacks had been tempered with gentleness, mercy. Draco fought not only to keep her out of his memory, but to keep himself from acting on the visceral anger the Legilimency provoked in him, to stop himself from lashing back at her.

She was withdrawing on her own, presently more interested in the outside of him than the inside. "Aren't you your father's son," she marveled, her fingers holding his chin, tilting his face to examine its angles. "Lucius all over again. Lovely. Hopefully not so stupid."

Leaning forward, she sniffed at his neck. "There it is. You smell like us. It's what sent the snake away. She had to be charmed not to eat those who smell of Black or Malfoy, otherwise none of us would have survived in the house with her this long. Such is the wisdom and the mercy of the Dark Lord. Come, he has been waiting - "

"Bella!" a voice called from beyond the stone balustrade along the top of the stairwell. "Who have you - " The shouting morphed into a stifled scream. "Draco, darling!"

Narcissa was floating down the stairs still wrapped in a dressing gown at midday, as if she was ill. "How have you come to be here?" She tipped her head toward Bellatrix, her eyes widening knowingly as she looked at him, as she took his hands and stepped into him, her face under his nose. "I thought the headmaster decreed you were not to leave school until Easter holidays. That's what we were told. You'll soon sit your OWLs - "

He shook her hands out of his, and stepped away, back toward the fireplace where Snape might be watching. "Useless school," he spat. "Wasting my time. Who can be bothered to care about Ordinary Wizarding Levels when all the papers are full of news of my not-at-all ordinary aunt at last being free? You know I've wanted to meet her all my life, Mother. Never thought I'd be lucky enough to have her welcome me home herself. And so pleased to see me. Unlike you, Mother, keeping me away as you hang on that dundering headmaster's advice about preparing for some pointless exams."

Draco couldn't bring himself to sneer directly at his mother, but he cast as scathing a look as he could in her direction. Narcissa stood between him and her sister, stunned, but opening her mouth as if to speak again.

Draco interrupted before she could form a single word. "Yes, Professor Snape and I discussed it and decided this weekend's Hogsmeade's trip would be the perfect time for me to slip away from school, unnoticed."

"Professor Snape?" Narcissa echoed, her eyebrows lifting.

Bellatrix snarled at the name. "Sniveling, skulking Snape. Still alive, is he? Still off hiding in Dumbledore's school, passing him our secrets is he?"

"Stop, Bella," Narcissa scolded. "Of course our Hogwarts operative must get along with the headmaster. It means nothing. His loyalty is as unchanged as your jealousy of him. You've always challenged Severus for the Dark Lord's favour."

She barked out a laugh. "Favour? Jealous? Jealous of what? His filthy Muggle name? Nobody. Half-blood. I don't see why Lucius ever took to him. I don't know why the Dark Lord suffers him to live - "

"Aunt Bella," Draco broke in, as if astounded. "I must say I did not expect to hear doubts about our Lord's judgment coming from you."

"What doubts? I have no doubts," she said, her voice a wail as she defended herself. "I have complete faith - "

"Then stop fuming over Severus Snape, at long last," Narcissa finished. She tucked her hand into the crook of Draco's arm, pulsing her grip against him - one, two, three. It was her acknowledgement of his ruse. And he felt taller, bolder, more ready for what was to come.

Bellatrix had taken his other arm and was tugging him toward the corridor where the door to the drawing room still stood open. "Come, Draco. You must be anxious to meet our Lord."

"Lucius!" Narcissa called, holding her son back. "Draco can't meet the Dark Lord until he first sees Lucius."

Bellatrix scoffed. "Blasted Malfoy patriarchal notions. Of course he can. Come along."

"It isn't that, Bellatrix. My husband and I have been working together to prepare this boy to be presented to the Dark Lord for sixteen years. Allow us ten more minutes to get the Floo dust off him and share a private word, for stars' sake," Narcissa said.

Bellatrix snarled. "Bloody useless Lucius!"

"Quiet, crone," Rodolphus Lestrange said as he came limping out of the drawing room toward them. "Our lord says come in or scuttle off to your holes."

The Dark Lord was growing impatient and Narcissa was through arguing herself. Until Draco turned seventeen, there were still only two people alive who could apparate within Malfoy Manor: its master and his wife. As she pulled Draco free from Bellatrix's grip, Narcissa cast one more glance at the fire and then turned on the spot, bringing herself and her son into Lucius's bedchamber.

A large parchment marked with intersecting straight lines, like a map, was spread on a table in front of him. He leaned on it, not reading but fretting. He looked up dully at the sound of Narcissa's apparition, but jumped to attention when he saw Draco on her arm.

"What - why? He can't - he's got to go back," he said, crossing the floor, taking Draco's arm himself.

"He can't," Narcissa said as she used a soft white cloth to clean Draco's forehead and cheekbones. She muttered a spell to quiet the room. "The Dark Lord heard the commotion of his entrance. Bella has seen him. I told her we'd clean him up and introduce him in ten minutes."

"Ten minutes!" Lucius raved, his hands in his hair. "Just ten minutes before it's all over - "

Draco took the cloth from his mother and began wiping at the remaining Floo dust himself. "I couldn't just sit at school while he overran our house and tortured the pair of you, Ronald and I, just sitting in school, waiting for the holidays when he'd come for us. We had to do something."

"I was doing something," Lucius answered through gritted teeth, waving at the map on the table. "It isn't as easy as boys like you believe. And don't bring Ronald into it. He is the son of blood-traitors in whom the Dark Lord has no interest."

At this, Draco scoffed loudly.

Lucius winced at it but there was no time to question Draco over his reaction now. He forged on. "The Dark Lord has accepted a plan of mine to obtain his desires without your help. Your role has always been to further the goals of the Ministry at Hogwarts by working with Dolores Umbridge. That is all."

"Snape doesn't agree. If the Dark Lord doesn't meet me soon, your loyalty will be suspect. I can't let that happen. And apart from what goes on here, there's more happening at Hogwarts than you know, Father," he said, thinking of Harry's visions, his unexplored connection to the Dark Lord. "More than I can tell you. It's an opportunity we can't miss. Snape agrees."

Lucius sneered. "So he's sent you here to sacrifice yourself?"

Narcissa swiped at the dust on Draco's shoulders. "Severus would not do that."

Draco let out his breath. "Of course he wouldn't, but he does see the risk. He opposed me at first. But then he prepared me. He taught me Occlumency. And it works. I managed to rebuff Aunt Bella downstairs, before Mother came. She seemed pleased, called me a good boy, said it made me ready for service."

Narcissa held his head again, turning his eyes down to look into hers. He braced himself for her to test him with her Legilimency but it never came. This was more of a medical examination than a spell. "Snape has given you a fortifying potion," she said. "Did he give you a second dose?"

Draco nodded.

"Good. Before we enter the drawing room, take it."

"But he said not to - "

"In this, Severus is my student. And I said for you to take it." She seldom spoke to her children so sternly. Draco took the vial from his pocket and held it ready in his hand.

"Where is Ronald in all this?" Lucius said.

"He's at the Weasleys today, while the rest of the school is in Hogsmeade. Among other things, he went to find out what he can about the attack on Arthur at the Ministry," Draco said.

At this, Lucius was furious, swearing and lunging at the table, crumpling the parchment map into a ball and throwing it at the wall.

Narcissa left off fawning over Draco and went to Lucius, gathering both of his hands in hers. "Darling, darling stop," she cooed. "We must compose ourselves. Draco is here now. He can't leave without an audience with the Dark Lord. We need to regroup and survive this."

Lucius twisted his neck, refusing to look at her or his son.

She moved to stay within his sight. "If you'd seen him downstairs, with Bella, you'd have more confidence in him. He has handled her rather brilliantly thus far. He is bright and strong and Severus has prepared him well. Trust in that, darling. There's nothing else we can do."

Lucius took Draco by the arms, and with eerie similarity, gave him much the same instructions on dealing with the Dark Lord that Snape had given him. When it was finished, the family linked hands, ready to apparate to the corridor outside the drawing room.

Bellatrix was still at the foot of the stairs when they appeared. She screeched at the sight of them, running through the corridor to join them. As she came, Draco downed the last vial of fortifying potion. Narcissa nodded and they stepped into the open doorway.

Rodolphus Lestrange sat dozing in a corner of the sofa. Before the fire, a man twitched and fidgeted - a small man who looked even smaller than he was, his spine hunched as if to protect his vital organs from an unrelenting threat. This would be Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail. He raised his head to sniff at the air as the Malfoys stepped inside.

From the room's entrance, no one else was visible. But the space felt cold, tense, as if about to break. Then Draco saw it. Between the carved wooden legs of the armchair turned to face the fire was a pair of bare feet, grey like a ghoul's. It was him.

A hand appeared, at the winged edge of the chair, waving. A voice, both powerful and wraithish called out. "Young Malfoy, come to your master."

Bellatrix was at Draco's back now, shoving him forward, delighted and cackling as quietly as she could. Draco stumbled across the rug, his parents coming with him, holding him upright.

"No need to coddle him," the voice said. "Young Malfoy, Draco. Come to me."

He straightened himself, stepped out of his parents' arms and in front of the armchair. The fire burned at his back, its flames twisting as if tortured, as if something inside them was struggling to get out.

In the armchair sat the Dark Lord - hardly human, red-eyed like the snake that had nearly eaten Draco, his features smoothed as if made from fabric frayed to almost nothing, his limbs lean as the branches of a dead tree with its bark long stripped away.

"Ah," he sighed with repulsive satisfaction at the sight of Draco. He rose to stand, his hand outstretched. "Perfect."

With the second dose of Snape's potion in his blood, Draco easily raised the raging tide of mental waves needed for Occlumency. It wasn't difficult, but the Dark Lord had not assailed him yet.

His skin had a reptilian coldness to it as he took Draco's left wrist and pushed his sleeve to his elbow. "Ah," he said again, red eyes rolling into his head. "Yes, this will do." Long grey fingers smoothed the white skin of Draco's arm, tracing the blue lines of his veins with a greed verging on hunger.

With his Occlumency, Draco steeled his nerves, not flinching or tensing at the touch.

"Yes, this will do very well. But not today," the Dark Lord said, dropping Draco's arm. "You are still unproven. And we would not bestow our highest honour, our dark mark, on any more unworthy supplicants."

As he said it, he nodded at Lucius. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Pettigrew chuckled obligingly at the insult.

"Let us see," the Dark Lord said, lifting his head to look Draco in the eye, "what you have brought me."

He was in Draco's mind - no warning, no chance to simply turn him back. It was stronger than Bellatrix, crueler than Snape, a wave crashing over his own. This must be what it feels like to Potter, Draco thought, this feeling of utter helplessness. His memories bobbed around him, like flotsam from a shipwreck. He scrambled after the ones he remembered being warned were vital - the ones about Potter and his visions, the connection to the Dark Lord he might not yet realize existed. It was sunk, safe for the moment.

The next memory he felt more than saw - Hermione Granger sitting next to him on a stone stair set into the side of a hill, after a quidditch match, feeding him oatmeal and kissing his face until he was so madly in love with her he had to leave. The image of this precious Muggle-born girl - he pushed it deep into the currents.

And as he did, something else, something priceless slipped away, into the grip of the invader. Draco should have found something useless and sent it out in its place, but the force of the intrusion had been too intense, too fast - painful, disorienting.

And now he had it. The Dark Lord had the memory of a ginger head bent over a potion in a glass - a purple web in a silver solution.

Greedy with his treasure, the Dark Lord leapt out of Draco's mind, the wraithish voice now rich with laughter. Draco fell to his knees on the carpet, his mother rushing to hold him.

"Well!" the Dark Lord howled. "You were right, Bella. All this time. And congratulations are in order, my dear Lucius. Your Weasley boy is no Weasley."

Bellatrix capered behind him as Lucius's face went from its usual pallor to something more like green.

"Surprisingly clever, that Prewett woman, telling you frankly that the boy's father was Weasley. I had already found the image in your mind and it was most convincing. But our Draco has given me the truth," he was wiping his eyes as his laughter abated. "Yes, delightful. I don't blame you, Lucius, you gorgeous fool. You have fallen into the hands of canny women. But now that I know of all of your sons, I must have the set. Bring me the - oh, what's he called?"

Lucius's voice croaked. "Ronald, my lord."

"Yes, bring me Ronald Malfoy."

Bellatrix mimed rolling up her sleeves. "He'll be out of school this weekend, like his brother. Track him, Pettigrew. Let's be off."

"No, Bella," Narcissa snapped. "You're wanted by the law. It's too dangerous. Lucius will go."

And before anyone could argue, he did go, throwing himself into the fireplace, breaking down its wards and protections as he went, racing to get to Ronald.

Narcissa sat at the Dark Lord's feet, Draco's shoulders leaned against her knees. "My son has pleased you, my Lord?" she asked, head bowed.

"Indeed," he said. "Put him away, upstairs. I will want him again, later. He is difficult to read, as all Black family members are. I shall need more time. Most promising, yes. I am in great hopes that in due time, we shall mark him for our use."

Narcissa nodded, cradling Draco's face in her hand. He was quiet, growing sleepy, the rebound effect of the potion setting in. His voice was a low murmur, barely audible even as she bent her ear to his mouth. "Mother, it slipped. Ronald, I - "

"You did well, my darling. Your very best. Now you need to rest."

The fire was sputtering again, the traces of the protective spells Lucius had broken fighting against another traveler. It would be Lucius, returning already, Ronald with him.

It wasn't. Severus Snape appeared on the hearth instead. As he did, Nagini reared up from where she'd been sleeping next to the armchair.

"Down," the Dark Lord told her.

Snape bowed low. "My lord, today's Hogsmeade excursion has come to an end, and Young Malfoy's absence has been noted by the headmaster. Given the fugitive status of his," Snape raised his head to sneer at Bellatrix, "his aunt, the headmaster is most alarmed and has just met with the school faculty to discuss coming to this house tonight to ensure Young Malfoy's safety unless he returns promptly."

The Dark Lord scoffed. "He would dare."

Snape went on. "My Lord, I have all confidence in your power to repel such advances. But should you wish to postpone a confrontation with the headmaster to a time of your own choosing, I suggest you allow me to bring the boy back to Hogwarts at once."

The Dark Lord jolted to his feet. Pacing before the fire.

Bellatrix was on her feet as well, her finger in Snape's face. "That filthy Dumbledore. Bring him here to us, Snape, you wriggling worm, out of your hole to bring us threats from your true master. Bring him and let him die like a dog at our Lord's feet."

"Quiet, crone," Rodolphus shouted. "Always the mad rush."

The Dark Lord was nodding. "Yes, Rodolphus. Mad. Yes. We will not be forced. We will wait. Take the pretty boy back then, Severus."

Without a word, without an instant of delay, Snape and Narcissa lifted Draco's lolling body between them. Snape staggered to the hearth, Draco's arm thrown over his shoulder, and with a whisper of the Hogwarts password, they were gone.