A/N: It's been far too long between parts, and for that I'm really sorry. I hope I don't lose readers... I've been busy. I've had to write essays and do tests to qualify for the advanced english, maths, and physics courses for my Higher School Certificate; it's pretty important, so I had to make it a priority. I got a phone call today that informed me that I got into all my preferred courses, so woohoo!

Once again, thanks for all the lovely reviews.

I still own nothing. Damn.

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Sacrifices

Part Sixteen - The Game Begins

`~`

Draco Malfoy could barely contain his excitement when he woke up. It was finally here. The day where he'd prove to Potter he was a better seeker. He wondered if his father might be there. Part of him hoped he would be. Quidditch meant a lot to his father. If he managed to beat Potter, then maybe his father would be pleased with him. Maybe he'd buy him the new firebolt. Of course if he lost... he stopped the trail of thought by focusing on the look on Potter's face instead. The look he'd have when Draco caught the snitch. Draco smiled to himself, lifting the covers and crawling out of bed. Today was going to be the best day ever.

`~`

Lucius Malfoy could barely contain his excitement when he woke up. It was finally here. The day when he'd be able to tell his only son that he could finally join the ranks of the dark wizards. He would no longer be a mere, worthless child. He would be a servant of the one true Lord. Lucius would finally be able to be proud of his son. Not that he wasn't already. Draco was certainly a powerful young wizard. Yet sometimes Lucius wondered if the boy was too soft. He had a habit of being disrespectful. Lucius punished him, of course. Any responsible parent punishes their child. How else are they supposed to learn? Yet with Draco... there was something about Draco that Lucius wasn't comfortable with. He guessed that it had something to do with that bumbling fool, Dumbledore. The other, inferior children at Hogwarts had no doubt poisoned Draco as well. Lucius guessed that if it wasn't for Severus Snape, Lucius would have lost Draco a long time ago to the rediculous notions of love, loyalty and equality. No matter. Once Draco was initiated, he was sure the boy would fall into line. Oh, and there was the quidditch match as well. Lucius grimaced. Draco had better beat that insolent Potter brat. He had never beat him yet, and it was becoming increasingly embaressing for Lucius. He lifted the covers and climbed out of bed. Quidditch win or not, today was going to be a grand day indeed.

`~`

When Severus Snape awoke from an uneasy sleep, he felt much the same as he had the past few days. Dread. Another day closer to the date when he would have to watch many of his students make the biggest mistake of their lives. The day when their fates would be shifted, turned onto a dark track. A track upon which many of them would perish. A track, in which all probability, none would escape from. A path that he himself had walked. He didn't want to leave his bed. Didn't want to get up, didn't want to face yet another day where he would have to relive his own mistakes through his pupils. He didn't want to have to pretend that he still walked that path. Severus Snape climbed out of bed. It was going to be a bad day. He could feel it.

`~`

Draco Malfoy wasn't surprised to see his father sitting beside his potions master in the grandstand. It was a common enough occurrence. Some of the other children's parents laughed and waved at their sons and daughters. Some of the children returned the favour, others looked embaressed. Draco's father didn't wave. He gave his son a brief nod, then returned to a conversation that he and Snape were having. Severus Snape looked stony-faced as usual, but he too favoured Draco with a brief nod, before returning his attention back to Lucius. Snape didn't seem to be saying much. Then again, when talking to Lucius Malfoy, there wasn't really much to say. All he really talked about was himself, Voldemort, and occasionally about his son - sometimes with pride, sometimes with quiet anger.

Severus wasn't exactly sure of how much more jabbering he could take from the cold man seated beside him. He had been quietly hoping that Lucius would be too busy planning the initiation, or performing some other service for Voldemort to go to the match. He should have known better. It was wishful thinking, and he knew it. Voldemort was certainly highest on Lucius' list of priorities, but Quidditch was important to him too. Not because he particularly enjoyed the game, but because it was another possible source of pride, another way to gain people's respect. Because once you hold someone's respect, you instantly have power over them. Like with fear. Lucius was good at extracting both from the people he met.

Severus didn't respect him. His mind, perhaps. He was intelligent. But he didn't respect *him*. All he felt was a disgusted, cold, and somehow disjointed fury. Much the same as what he felt for himself most of the time. The feelings he constantly pushed onto his students. Unfairly, of course, but what in life was fair? Part of his coldness was to keep up appearances as a spy. Most of it, though, was just who he was. Or how he felt. You can't hide everything. Not every emotion. Sometimes you have to convert it to something else, project it onto something else. And, damn it, some of those snotty brats really got on his nerves.

Severus suddenly realised that Lucius was looking at him expectantly. He growled out a throaty sound - neither negative or affirmative, and it seemed to please Lucius, for he continued.

"Yes, yes, it's definately the influence of the other children, mostly the muggleborns, but the Gryffindors too. I just don't know what to do with him sometimes. I tell him about the glory days, before the bratty Potter child, and he doesn't look at all inthralled. Sometimes he even looks as if he views it with distaste. I punish him, but I'm afraid it's not enough. He's too soft. That's why I think it's such brilliant fortune that the initiation is to be held so soon. It'll give him a more positive influence, away from Dumbledore, too..."

Severus purposely tuned out, whilst continuing to nod dutifully at the appropriate time. It was a skill that he had developed as a child when he had to listen to his father's ramblings. He wondered whether Draco Malfoy used the same trick. He hoped so. When you hear something too many times, you ca't help but start to believe it. Even if you don't want to.

`~`

Draco Malfoy stared hard at Harry Potter. Potter looked back at him defiantly. Draco had expected words to be exchanged, taunts. But now it just seemed out of place, inappropriate. The real mind games were all in the eyes. The tension mounted not with the harshness of verbal blows, but the silence, mounting, growing, taking up an almost physical presence between them. Neither blined, neither moved, they barely breathed.

And then the game began.

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A/N: So sorry to leave it at such a bloody cliffhanger, but it's just the way I write. I know I said the game would be in this chapter, but I got to writing about Severus, and got distracted. He's just so bloody *interesting*.

I don't know when the next bit will be up, but I very much doubt it will take as long as last time. I'll try to get as much done before my full-time study starts up again.

Review and make my day. I really do love them :)

Oh, and forgive any errors. It's 2:30 AM, and I'm tired as hell.