Draco was alone in detention with Snape. While he knew this was one of the starting points for several lurid fantasies among his peers, he just didn't see the attraction. Partly this was because he knew more than he would have wanted about his father's past 'friendship' with the man, but mostly it was because Snape took life too seriously for his taste.

He knew Severus did have an ulterior motive for detaining him however, other than the fact Draco had repeatedly offended his strict work ethic by producing copied homework essays. While Severus was not comfortable with the fact Draco had jumped head first into the world of the 'Deatheater turned spy' he had no choice but to accept it, having no doubt in the first place that this had always been Draco's intention. Draco was not Lucius, even though he appeared to emulate his father. And so Draco had been ordered to assist Snape in cataloguing the contents of the Potions Supply Cupboard while the professor took advantage of his sole attention.

"You think you can deceive him? You never fooled Dumbledore…"

"Voldie wants to believe in me and he will."

Severus winced at the flippant use of 'Voldie', the boy was incorrigible. "He is a paranoid, psychotic…will you never stop treating this like a game!" He grabbed Draco's shoulder roughly; forcing him to meet his gaze, "Do not make light of the man who believes it is his right to destroy innocent lives because he thinks they are lesser beings."

His eyes were met by an unmovable, flinty glare that told him despite Draco's respect for him, the young man was unafraid to challenge him.

"As long as they treat it as a game then it is a game." Lucius' son removed Severus' hand from his shoulder, "We have no choice but to play as they play in order to keep up. We wouldn't want to blow our cover, would we?"

The boy was clever, too clever maybe. He was right – but that was no excuse for his arrogance.

"He will be summoning us soon, tomorrow night if my instincts are correct. You are prepared for what comes next, are you?"

He noted that Draco's face gave no sign of any doubt.

"I was always prepared for the Mark, my father has always been so determined that I should follow in his footsteps as you did…"

Draco knew he was pushing Severus to his limit, accustomed as he was to playing dangerous games. The older man's jaw tightened and the furrow between his brows became deeper. There was silence between the two for a few minutes before Snape gave him the terse command,

"Pass me the jars of powdered Belladonna."

Draco lifted the two sealed jars from the high shelf one at a time and placed them in row Severus had designated for the restricted substances. The potions professor glanced absorbedly at one of them and lifted it up to the light. He frowned; the quality appeared to be deteriorated-

"Make a note, Draco, that this jar is to be used only for practical lessons on checking the potency of poisons."

Draco scowled; the parchment was mere inches away from the professor's elbow. Out of grudging respect for the man, he complied, adding a new line of careless script at the bottom of Severus' brusque but infinitely precise italics. He stared at the shelves yet to be checked with their regimented rows of jars and bottles, arranged according, to not only the class, type and potency of the contents but also the size of the container and the freshness of the ingredients. Severus definitely took life too seriously.

"Do you think the demon is getting ready to act?" Draco inquired casually, interested to gauge Severus' reaction to the question. The older man remained impassive; he would not allow the boy to wrong-foot him.

"I doubt anyone is capable of judging what her plans are. I have no doubt, however, that you already know that she has taken Potter's Occlumency lessons out of my hands."

Draco suppressed a smirk, not only was the demonic professor Kittson a better potions master but she also possessed Severus' aspirational job-title and she was slowly taking over everything he had previously been in control of. Small wonder the man was on edge at the moment…

"I had heard, yes."

Severus reached for his notes, scanning through the tight, even lines for anything he might have neglected to check. "No doubt Me Tis will be putting her plans into action in the very near future if she has decided to get her claws into Potter at this stage."

"Still, you never enjoyed those lessons, so to speak."

Severus gave him an odd look over his shoulder, "It was never a question of whether I or Potter enjoyed the lessons it was a question of doing what was best for Potter." He rubbed a thumb over the Dark Mark that brooded, hidden by his sleeve, on his forearm. "Though he never learned anything of the technique that he could use in his own defence."

Night was beginning to chill the atmosphere of the dungeons, but there were still three shelves that needed to be checked and catalogued. Even so, though Severus was always loath to leave a task unfinished, the potions professor was tempted to call it a day. The weight of his dilemma had been weighing heavily on his shoulders for two days since the demon had made her request that he relinquish his responsibility for Potter's extra lessons. She had even forced him to take the matter to Dumbledore in order to make the handover official, making it seem as if he had failed in his position. She was undermining him every step of the way.

"You have a free period first thing tomorrow, I expect you to be here in order to finish what we have left."

"Why not tomorrow evening?" By the tone of his voice, Severus deduced that Draco already knew what his answer was going to be.

"Tomorrow night may be the time Voldemort chooses to formally mark you as his property. I hope for your sake that you have a high tolerance for pain…"

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Isla knocked back the dragon's blood with disgust. It burned like acid and tasted far worse but it replenished Me Tis' power that helped to keep her alive. At this time in the evening the levels of magical activity were very low and so there was too little surplus energy to absorb to be of any use to the demon. That was where dragon's blood was so useful, it was like a triple shot espresso to a caffeine addict – except it provided the magical power surge Me Tis needed to keep Isla's body renewing itself. Better to suffer the brief nausea that the blood produced than to have half the cells in her body die without being replaced during the night…

Hopefully Me Tis would let her sleep tonight. Although the demon never slept and never needed to, sometimes Isla's body just had to sleep and tonight was just one of those nights. It didn't help either that they were both magically drained.

Me Tis had spent the evening projecting through the veils in order to make contact if she could with some of her demonic peers. This was all part and parcel of her master plan. If Riddle was going to try to summon other demons in a pathetic attempt to turn them against her, he was sorely mistaken. Instead she had ensured that all the high demons that were currently active knew what was happening in her territory and made it very clear that, no matter how many invitations they received, they were to stay out of her business. She knew there was no demon prepared to challenge her in terms of power and so she felt reassured that no one was going to try to muscle in on her game, now that she had reasserted her authority beyond the veils.

Me Tis' smugness was total, and Isla recalled the visit they had received that afternoon from the girl, Hermione Granger. Isla recognised a part of herself in the girl, the consuming desire for knowledge and understanding of the world that surrounded her. She sensed the idealism that seemed innate in the girl's nature that she herself had lost at the moment Me Tis had erupted within her and had wrested all sense and control of who and what she was out of her hands. The demon had been feeling benevolent enough to allow Isla to speak for herself at least, although Isla had a feeling that this was mostly due to Me Tis' dislike for humans with such romantic views of life as Miss Granger's.

Isla had tried to be as kind as possible, something that she found increasingly difficult as Me Tis' attitudes influenced her own so closely now. She had instinctively known what the girl would say, that she would appeal on Potter's behalf. It was all in vain in the end though. Isla and Me Tis had been planning their checkmate for Voldemort for over a decade and no sentimental ideas of fairness or what was right or wrong for the boy were going to get in their way. The boy was what he was, and although the prophecy was not an absolute, it carried the weight that meant they had to use him. Isla had made this very clear, that Potter had a duty towards every past and every potential victim whose life Voldemort touched; that if Potter did not fulfil this obligation then the balance of the world would be disturbed with potentially disastrous consequences. Of course nothing was beyond Me Tis' power in this reality, but to go against the natural course of events would be to upset too many conventions that the demon was reluctant to contemplate such a course of action. Demons had few laws, but those they did have were respected for the most part.

Me Tis stirred within Isla's mind, her smile spreading across her face. She was looking forward to the days to come. Matters were going to become increasingly entertaining for the demon and very much less entertaining for some unfortunate mortals.