Chapter Nine: A Midnight Surprise

Severus Snape had been pacing relentlessly, trying to settle his mind since he left Malfoy Manor two hours ago. He'd been proud when he first realized the truth, but the edge of pride had quickly rolled up to reveal absolute horror. What in the hell did Alex think she was doing? She was going to get herself killed! Fool! Idiot! Thick-headed, obtuse, damnably difficult woman!

Before tonight he'd always felt that she had more brains than bravado, but this made him wonder if he'd misjudged her. What could have possessed her to take up residence in the most dangerous place possible? Why didn't she just waltz up to Lucius undisguised and demand to be taken directly to Voldemort, then round it off by spitting in the Dark Lord's face?

Damn her!

Exhausted from his fury, he threw himself into a chair and allowed the other side of his mind, the side that first understood who it was in that black uniform, to have it's say.

Severus Snape, you have no one to blame but yourself. Besides, you should be proud of her! She's doing almost exactly what you've been doing all these years. She's hiding directly beneath the enemy's nose, the last place he'd think to look. It's a good plan, really. As long as she can keep up the act, she's invaluable to Lucius and in a perfect position to acquire information about her enemies. She's playing the game like a Death Eater.

Successfully, I might add. Lucius seems oblivious to the deception and is quite taken with her.

A bit too taken, Snape fumed, recalling Malfoy's not so noble intentions. Did she not realize what Lucius would expect of her? How could someone be so clever and still be so damnably naive? Sometimes, she reminded him of Potter.

And, if she needed information why hadn't she come to him? Because she was afraid for him? How ridiculous! Had he not proven that he could take care of himself? Why stay with Lucius? She would have been safe here at Hogwarts.

Was it possible that she had changed her mind? Or, worse, that she hadn't meant what she said at all?

Did she not really love him?

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Rose stood on the highest balcony of Malfoy Manor looking up at the silver moon and wondering.

There were so many things she didn't understand about Lucius, now. Before tonight her relationship with him had been simple. He and his fellow Death Eaters had murdered Nina for Alex's refusal to join Voldemort. She was staying here under the protection of his roof to use him until she didn't need him anymore, then dispose of him.

Until tonight, she'd considered his death at her hands to be justified. He'd been responsible for Nina's death, after all, possibly spoke the spell that took her life. She had never once doubted this. Between the night of Nina's murder and now, she'd allowed herself no memory of how much she had liked him, the connection she'd felt when they talked. She'd fought for so long to let him in without allowing him to dominate her entirely. She'd known from the very beginning that, if she could control her yearning for him, they could be great friends, but he had no intention of letter her get that close without taking what he wanted from her.

Now, the implication of her friendly feelings toward him settled on her shoulders like a giant weight. Without further reason, she knew she'd never be able to finish her task and take his life.

It didn't change her plans for the immediate future, though. The guilty Death Eaters would still die. Maybe that was all that mattered for now. She'd wait a week or so, then visit Severus asking for details on the murderers now that she knew he would not be tortured or killed for helping her. Malfoy's plans to use her would fit neatly into her own design, then she'd see about what to do next.

Maybe Severus would have some ideas.

Speaking of Severus, he had looked wonderful tonight, dressed to the nines in his best black robes, dark hair longer than usual and falling gracefully over his shoulders. How had he grown it so quickly? It was beautiful, like a silken mantle of darkness. She knew she shouldn't have been staring at him or returning his own stares, but by Merlin's beard, she had wanted nothing more than to pounce on him and drag him to her bed.

And, she had always known that he was brilliant, but how the hell had he seen through her disguise?

The wind sighed an answer, but it was too soft to hear.

"Beautiful night," whispered a voice behind her.

Rose nearly cried out in surprise.

"I'm terribly sorry," Lucius said placing a calming hand on the curve of her back. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Rose stepped away from the hand, away from him and leaned on the railing. "It's alright, sir. I didn't hear you come up the stairs," she answered nervously.

"What's troubling you, Rose?"

"Nothing."

Lucius raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Well, okay, maybe not nothing, but nothing important," Rose beamed warmly at him. "Is there something I can do for you? You could have just summoned me."

Lucius returned her smile, if a little less warmly. Why were all his expressions tinged with wickedness? "Actually, I had no idea you were here. I came out for a bit of fresh air and a view of the garden."

"Oh, well then I'll leave you to it, sir. Sorry to disturb you."

"I hardly call the company of a beautiful woman on a peaceful evening 'disturbing.' You may stay," he said regally.

Oh, may I, your Lordship? "Really, I've stayed too long. I have work to do," she answered hurriedly, not wanting to spend another second on a balcony with Lucius Malfoy, the silver rays of moonlight caught by his hair and transforming him into a demon of light. It would just be far too easy to--

"I insist that you take the rest of the night off, after all your day off begins in only a few hours."

"Sir, I don't need time off," she argued ever-so-gently. "You know that. I didn't really want the one day a week you insisted on giving me. I get bored if I'm not busy."

"Oh, I have ways of keeping you occupied," he leveled a positively lascivious look at her and stepped closer, the wind blowing pale hair softly around his face.

Is this the part where I fall helplessly into your arms, Lucius? Rose thought playfully. Not this time. I'm not even looking at you. Indeed her eyes were focused over his left shoulder where a shadow passed over the trees beyond.

Strange.

She was just about to mention it when Lucius descended on her in slow motion with a soft kiss, his lips just barely touching hers, more of a question than a demand.

Her resolve shivered.

It was tempting. There wasn't much at stake this time, not much reason to say 'no,' but if there was one way to stop her before she started, a gentle kiss was it.

Besides, no matter how beautiful Lucius was, she couldn't get Severus' face out of her head, and the tiny smile of greeting he'd given her tonight. Merlin and Mab, she was crazy about that man!

She answered the silent question with a step back and a gentle shake of her head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy. I can't," was the only explanation she gave before leaving him alone and bewildered.

The shadow over the trees had stopped, hovering unseen by Lucius and forgotten by Rose.

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Draco Malfoy was having a hard time assimilating what he had just witnessed. Never had he ever seen a woman walk away from his father, except, of course, his mother, but she was a heartless, loveless thing, incapable of human feeling. No other woman could resist the Malfoy charm.

The maid had spoken so highly of his father to Madam Malkin that he almost thought she knew someone was listening and took her words with a grain of salt, but had she not also said that she was not interested in having a romantic relationship with the senior Malfoy? That it would make things too awkward? He was beginning to believe that she meant every word she said, that she really was exactly what she seemed to be, a really nice Italian maid.

And he'd been abysmal to her. His father would have been ashamed to see him behaving like a savage toward the only witch who was self-determining enough to work for the Malfoy family and to stand up to others when they insulted the Malfoy patriarch.

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The summons came at around the same time that it had the night before, in the wee hours of the morning. It was Draco again.

Oh, no. How much more can I take from these guys?

Besides, I'm off today.

Rose smirked at her own work ethic. Then why was she hiding in her room polishing Lucius Malfoy's boots? Resolving to keep her humor, she answered the summons.

The little dragon was curled up in his favorite chair, reading again. This time, he seemed to be studying handwritten diagrams. Upon closer inspection, she saw that the sketches, little X's and O's, were moving in formation on the parchment.

She smiled, despite herself. For all his faults, he was a clever little guy.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked in what she hoped was a pleasantly neutral tone.

"I'd like some coffee, please," Draco asked softly, not sweetly, but almost. Rose nearly fell over with shock, but recovered quickly enough.

"Right away, sir." She hesitated, hoping to avoid a disaster, this time. "Have you eaten dinner? Are you hungry at all?"

He looked up from his book and Rose was taken aback by an expression she'd never seen on his face, a small smile. "I'm starved, actually," he confided. "Goyle's mother's a lousy cook. Everything she makes is covered in grease. It's revolting."

Rose's heart immediately went out to the younger Malfoy. Poor little kid didn't even have a mother of his own anymore.

"Well, it just so happens that I am a fabulous cook." She beamed down at him. "Do you like fish?"

His eyes brightened. "Yeah."

"I thought you did. I saved you a plate of the Stoccafisso I made for dinner tonight, and a big piece of tiramisu-- just in case."

"What's Stocca--?"

"Stoccafisso? It's baked cod with a few veggies. What do you say?"

"That sounds really good," he answered almost shyly.

"Great!" she answered brightly. "I'll be right back."

Rose hummed a merry tune while warming Draco's food. Whatever negative things had occurred today, being late serving dinner, almost having her cover blown, having to turn down the most gorgeous man who'd ever tried to seduce her-- again, had been immediately made up for by the mirror image of a rather nasty little teenage boy named Draco. It was a side of him she was sure not many saw.

She wondered what had occurred to change his mind about her. Maybe he was just extremely moody. Or, maybe-- her mind drifted to a few hours ago on the terrace, that shadow above the trees that she had almost forgotten. Now that she thought about it, it looked about like the silhouette of a man on a broomstick, or a young boy.

So, that was it, then. Draco really did have an issue with her sleeping with his father. Hmm-- I wonder why. It wasn't about his mother. Most young nobles are accustomed to their parent's taking lovers. This was something she'd have to pursue at some point.

Rose presented the tray with little fanfare. It was only leftovers, after all, but Draco looked at the plate as if she'd presented a feast. Poor little guy must be starving. Didn't his father check to see whether he'd eaten?

No, he'd been too busy trying to get the maid into bed.

Selfish bastard.

Well, as long as she was here, Draco would be taken care of properly. He was just a kid, after all. Someone had to look after him. Where was his father's mind?

Rose watched the boy eat with great satisfaction.

"Now, are you going to bed fairly soon, sir?" she asked with concern.

Draco looked up, his mouth full of potato and Rose thought she'd never seen anything so absolutely adorable. She smiled down at him sweetly as he nodded.

"Okay. But if you need me, you just call. Alright? I'll be here."

She was almost through the door when she heard Draco's unsure voice from inside the room. "Thank you."

Turning her head only slightly, it would never do to embarrass him with an overreaction, she left him with a cheerful, "You're welcome."