Steeling himself, Draco knocked on the door. As seemed to be happening to him a lot these days, when the door opened he was met with a glower. This time the glower belonged to Severus Snape.

"You asked to see me, sir?" Snape, despite having requested Draco's presence, looked as sour as he always did.

"Now, now, young Master Malfoy," Snape gave what may have been a smile, but beneath his contemptuous sneer conveyed no joy. "Perhaps my message was inaccurately conveyed. I only wished to meet," Snape paused, considering, "socially."

Draco kept his eyes on his professor's. "Sorry, sir." Polite, gracious, conveying nothing. "I'll have Dilly whipped to prevent it from happening again."

Another oily smile from Snape. "No need, my boy." The door slid farther open. "Enter."

Draco stepped inside, and Snape shut the door after him. Suddenly on high alert, Draco tried to look around without making it obvious he was panicking. Snape strode over to the fireplace and threw in a handful of powder from a container set nearby for that very purpose.

"He is here, my Lord," Snape spoke into the flames, turning to face Draco with a smirk.

It occurred to Draco to note that dealing with the Dark Lord's followers was one of those few situations where paranoia was entirely justified.

"I could not let your mother know you'd be punished for your misstep." The s-sounds made Draco shudder with revulsion. The monster stepped out of the flames, raising its head to observe Draco. "She still believes herself safe."

Draco's blood ran cold. Forgetting all disrespect, he stared directly into those snake-slit eyes, in shock.

Voldemort seemed slightly mollified by Draco's response. "She still is."

Draco's body went slack with relief and suddenly, after the Dark Lord had let the silence hang ominously for a moment, gathered the tension of new and potent fear. "Is my father safe as well, my Lord?" No emotion, betray no emotion.

"I was pleased with your decision to take up your old master's place. He will not die." The Dark Lord cocked his head like a reptile, considering. "You did not, however, consult me first."

"My lord, I wanted—"

"Do not presume to tell me why you did it!" Voldemort screeched, suddenly furious. "Do you honestly think it possible that I do not know already?"

Draco bowed his head. "My apologies, my Master."

"It was a youthful mistake," the Dark Lord's tone was generous. "As were your previous," his tone hardened. Venomously he spat the word, "mistakes."

Draco began to hyperventilate. "Sir, I regret immeasurably my digression from your orders, I swear I will serve you better—" Suddenly he could no longer speak.

"Young Malfoy," He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named seemed almost amused, which only increased Draco's panic, "You will not die today." Draco gave him a pleading, panicked look, unable to make a sound and desperate with fear.

Voldemort smiled cruelly, lazily extending his wand. "Crucio."