'Lumos.'

Merciless wandlight beamed suddenly through the shadows of the hospital wing, unveiling four figures, two slim and elegant and two mountainous bulks. All four stood surrounding the only occupied bed in the hospital dormitory.

'Get out.' Hissed a dominant, female voice, gesturing towards the door. The two lumbering forms shuffled towards the door, shutting it behind them with a dull thud.

The two lithe figures stood in marblesque stillness for a few silent moments before spontaneously moving into simultaneous action. The smaller of the two quickly dropped the bag from her shoulder and stooped to remove candles and sand. Her taller, more masculine double stood over the bed and began casting silencing and sedating charms upon its occupant.

Vibora forged a circle with the effulgent sand and ignited the candles with a graceful flick of her wand. She then sat down and beckoned to her cousin to join her.

Draco cautiously grasped his relative's offered hands and awaited her words. She grinned cruelly at his nervous countenance and he reformed his delicate facade. The dark-haired woman, now satisfied, threw back her head and began to intone;

'Through blood, through bond, through family line,

What flows in his veins flows in mine

And if we seek to join of part

The path lies in not name, but heart.

So let him walk as three men do

That trail to here to earn what's due.'

While Draco shuddered at the drop in depth of Vibora's voice as the chant was completed, he awaited with anticipation the arrival of his father. Carrying his semi-conscious cousin from the sand circle, he watched as a portal opened, stretching and distorting the floor. From within the chasm, bathed in opaline luminescence a swirling, rotating figure began to emerge. Draco, suddenly remembering Vibora's instructions, unsheathed a knife from within his cloak and clasped the blade between his own and his cousin's palms. The resulting blood he allowed to fall only within the sphere of light before knitting the skin of their wounds closed.

The candles all inexplicably extinguished and the hospital was plunged into darkness so absolute that it oppressed the senses. Draco, mindful of the spells inaccuracies and fearful of its results, drew his wand. Before he had raised it, an eloquent voice announced 'Aduros,' and the candles burst into renewed life, hovering feet above the ground.

Within remnants of the charred circle stood a tall, blonde figure, draped in a spartan linen robe. Devoid of his usual embroidery of silvers and greens, the Death Eater was no less imposing. His grey eyes fell upon Vibora and he gently lifted her from his son's arms. 'Enervate,' he said, directing his wand at her.

Vibora opened her eyes and was greeted by the sight of her perturbed uncle's silvery gaze. She stood elegantly and, leaving her kinsman's embrace, guided him by hand to where Snape lay in silent slumber; spellbound.

'Colloportus.' Lucius aimed his wand at the heavy oak doors to the ward. He gazed coldly down at Snape. He lifted his hand from the linen sheets and observed with vague interest and amusement as it fell limply to his side once more. His head swung towards his son. 'Potion or charm?'

'Charm, sir.' Replied Draco, arms stiffly at his side, body at attention. Only his eyes betrayed the slightest anxiety that his father was displeased.

A controlled smile reached Lucius' lips and Draco's stance relaxed minutely.

Summoning a crystal phial from the far side of the hospital wing, Lucius held his hand out, palm up to his son.

Draco did not respond. His eyes gazed intently at his father who, removing his eyes from Snape's inanimate figure, sneered disdainfully at Draco. 'The knife, child.'

Sullenly, Draco surrendered the polished dagger to his father, it was still stained with his own and Vibora's blood.

As it passed hands, Vibora discreetly murmured 'Scourgify,' and her cousin's mistake was removed before his father saw it.

Swiftly and callously, Lucius pierced his ally's flesh, allowing the fountain of blood to fill the phial. 'Insurance,' he explained to Vibora's intrigued eyes. 'Dispose of this mess.' Lucius momentarily hesitated before turning the hilt of the emerald encrusted dagger to Draco.

'Accio,' he pointed his wand to an unused pillow and muttered 'Portus,' to it. Smiling savagely he whispered 'For your mother, at the Riddle House.'