A/N: Whee! Two chapters in one week! It's really short, but, eh, what can you do?

 ~ Chapter 3: Of Dark and Dirty Places ~

Six Quidditch players and an even larger number of cheerchics were crammed into a small space behind one of the bookshelves in a lounge in Malfoy Manor. Draco had shoved them all in there the instant he'd heard his mother's voice. Now there was very little for them to do but shift uncomfortably (or not so uncomfortably, in some cases) in the cramped space.

"This is ridiculous," Xanne hissed. "Will someone cast a Lumos spell already?"

"I can't," Calypso replied. "I can barely breath, not to mention move my arm."

"Oops, sorry," Montague said to Morrigun.

She looked up at him in the musty darkness. "Liar." He only grinned.

Meanwhile, Ravyn and Persephone were shoved up against the bookcase itself, attempting to see what was happening on the other side. "Do you see anything?" Persephone asked.

"No," Ravyn replied. "But whoever just touched my ass is going to answer to Draco for it."

There was a bit of nervous shuffling, but no one owned up to the fact. Ravyn stood on the tips of her toes in order to see out of a gap near the top of the bookcase.

Outside, Draco was seated on a couch with Narcissa. He seemed to be doing a good job of acting casually, even though both of them had just found the other unexpectedly in the Manor. Narcissa shared her son's white blonde hair and pale, flawless skin. They had the same pointed features and arching brows. However, where Draco's eyes were gray and guarded, sometimes cool and steely, sometimes ablaze with silver starlight, Narcissa's were bright and blue and welcoming. But there was little doubt that this Malfoy was any less deadly than her son. She regarded him with a smile, and began conversationally, "Draco, darling, I thought you were staying at school for the holidays?"

"Yes, well," For that instant, Ravyn held her breath. Beneath the woman's sweet exterior was the sting of suspicion. But, if anyone could get out of this situation, Draco could. "You know those teachers, always playing favorites, getting on my case every five minutes just because I got Sorted into Slytherin… I just needed a break."

"I see." She did see, obviously; she saw that Draco wasn't being fully honest with her.

"And what are you doing home? Aren't you and father supposed to be at the Pritchards?"

"Your father and I aren't the ones who require parental permission." She fixed him with a pointed gaze.

"Ah, well, Professor Snape – "

"Speaking of playing favorites," Narcissa remarked coolly.

It was quite amusing to watch Draco interact with his mother. He could lie, cheat, bully, and manipulate quite a few people when he really put effort into it. But his mother seemed to be a different case. He didn't seem nervous; Draco didn't show weaknesses like that. But she'd never seen him hesitate like he was in this conversation.

If she'd had room, Ravyn would have been talking notes. She had the feeling she could learn a lot from this woman.

"So, why have you come home early?" Draco's casual question could be accurately translated as, 'What the hell are you doing here?'

Narcissa waved a delicate hand dismissively with all the grace of a white rose arching in the wind. "You know how your father and all his friends get. One drink and it's all 'death, death, death,' with a bit of plundering and a good bit of humiliation thrown in. Quite sordid, really, not to mention repetitive."

The next part of the conversation was lost when Kevin Bole sneezed suddenly, followed by sharp repeals from the people surrounding the Beater. "I'm sorry," he hissed back. "Damn dusty in here."

"All right, that's enough." Morrigun shoved through towards the back of the little crowd, wielding her wand as soon as she had enough room to reach for it.

"Ow! That was my foot," Flint complained.

"If you're not quiet," Fallon growled, "it'll be higher up."

The three Chasers gulped simultaneously. Akasha patted Flint's arm comfortingly, but there was little time for her to speak before –

"SPIDER!"

There were a few high-pitched squeals, followed by several people saying gruffly, "Calm down! It's just a stupid bug!" Fallon's was perhaps the most disturbing reaction; she immediately shoved past her companions, calling out, "Oh! Is it poisonous? Catch it, quick!"

"Hush, all of you! They'll hear…"

And, just as Jeannie had warned, Draco was saying something to the effect of, "Stupid house elves…" to Narcissa and casting his "I-May-Have-To-Conviniently-Forget-The-Charm-That-Opens-That-Secret-Passage" glare murderously in the direction of the bookshelf. Narcissa rose, glancing in their direction, and Ravyn drew a breath…

"So, nice talking to you, mum, but father will be expecting you back, I should think…" Draco steered his mother towards the door, and Ravyn let her breath out slowly. Three more steps, and they'd be gone. Two more steps, and they'd be out of this musty little corner of hell. One more step…

"Oh, but Draco, dear," Narcissa said, pausing to face her son. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?"

Seventeen Slytherin hearts stopped beating in that instant, and every one of them was thinking the same thing.

Oh. Bloody. Hell.