Chapter 2

Snape woke up from a light sleep to the sound of knocking at his front door. By the look of the world outside his window, it was nearing dawn. There was a pinkish tinge on the horizon. Standing up, he felt the strains of the previous day in the stiffness of his back. He gritted his teeth and ignored it.

Slipping on a tattered dressing gown, he stalked over to the front door and flung it open. Standing on his front step, with a cloak around his shoulders, was Draco Malfoy. His face was pale and drawn.

"Professor," Draco said hurriedly, "please. I need to talk to you."

Snape noticed that Draco's voice was raspy and thought that it was probably due to over-exposure to Crucio. The Dark Lord was not pleased with him the night before. He stepped back and held the door open. "Well come in then," he snapped.

The look of gratefulness on Draco's face was almost pathetic. Snape fought the sudden urge to advise the boy to run away. He would be reasonably safe in the Continent, safer than here in England anyway. It simply wasn't fair that a child – a boy he had mentored himself – was forced to kill to prove himself. Of course, Snape reminded himself, despite this, it was still obvious where Draco's loyalties lay.

Once Draco was seated, Snape took a chair opposite him and folded his arms. Draco shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I hope you don't expect me to thank you," Draco muttered as he undid the clasp on his cloak. Snape noticed that his fingers were trembling. "I would have completed the task."

"Of course," Snape said acidly. "That is why you were frozen with indecision." He watched as Draco flinched at his words.

"He was really furious," Draco whispered, staring down at his hands which were clasped in his lap. "He… he..."

"There are consequences to disobeying the Dark Lord," Snape said. "Perhaps this will teach you not to hesitate next time."

"N-next time?"

"Of course," Snape said, "you have taken your father's place in our circle. Surely you did not believe that one task would be enough to determine your loyalty." From the expression on the boy's face, it was obvious that he did think exactly that.

"So it's not over," Draco said bitterly.

"It will not be over until we win," Snape said. "This is a war. Everybody must make sacrifices."

"And I suppose my next task would be to capture Potter. After all, that is the next most difficult thing to do after killing Dumbledore and since you've already done that." The words came tumbling out as Draco sat there fiddling with the elaborate M clasp of his cloak.

"Draco, stop acting like a child," Snape said sharply. "Narcissa will be displeased if you break that."

Draco glared at him, and Snape was struck anew with just how young the boy was. His face was paler under the harsh Muggle light than in the pre-dawn light outside.

"When did you last eat?" Snape asked suddenly.

Draco frowned. "Yesterday," he admitted.

Snape couldn't help but feel some sort of responsibility for the boy. Perhaps it was a remnant of the Vow but he knew that this was wishful thinking. Six years of looking after his Slytherins had left its impact on him. Snape was just glad he was able to be himself in his own quarters at Hogwarts. And now, even that was denied to him. Wormtail, it seemed, was here on a semi-permanent basis. Well that did have a few benefits.

He stood up, walked over to a closed doorway and rapped on it. "Wormtail, we have a visitor. I suggest you prepare us some breakfast."

There was an unhappy murmur from inside the room. Snape raised an eyebrow. "Was that a word of protest I heard?"

"No, I'm sorry, Severus!" There was a scuffling sound and the door opened.

Snape took an involuntary step backwards and wrinkled his nose. Wormtail was looking worse than ever, standing there in nothing but a wrinkled nightshirt. There was a faint sour smell coming from the other man. "Take a bath first," he ordered.

Wormtail gave a faintly abashed nod. Snape could see Draco's amusement out of the corner of his eyes as the other man hurried away. As Snape sat down again, he asked, "Was there a particular reason why you felt like you needed to see me?"

Draco froze.

"I need your help," he finally admitted.

Snape was amused but didn't show it. "Why do you need my help? I would have thought that the son of the great Lucius Malfoy needed nobody's help."

"My father is in Azkaban," Draco spat out angrily, "as you continually remind me. Mother wanted me to come here today. She wants me to learn from you. To learn how to be the perfect Death Eater."

"You don't sound particularly pleased," Snape said. "Anybody would think that you weren't glad to serve our Lord."

Draco stiffened and his expression froze into one reminiscent of the young Lucius Malfoy. All icy pride and stiff manners. "I am very proud to be serving the Dark Lord," he said.

But Snape, with his years of hiding in shadows, could detect a note of uncertainty in his voice. It was obvious that Draco was wavering between what he had always been brought up to believe and what he now could see in front of him. Albus would have considered it a good thing that Draco was unable to kill but a part of Snape wished that Draco had. Then he wouldn't be in this position. He wouldn't have to conceal himself in his Death Eater persona all day long. Albus had trusted him, but Snape now wondered whether that trust was well-placed or not. It would be so simple to slip from pretending to be a Death Eater to actually being one.

"Professor?" The sound of Draco's voice broke into his thoughts and Snape realised with a start that he had been silent for too long.

"There is no need to address me by that title any longer," he said abruptly. "I am no longer your professor."

Draco stared at him. "What should I call you then?"

Snape's lip curled. "I'm your colleague now. Perhaps my name would suffice?"

"Yes… Severus."

The same name, but it could sound so different coming from different lips. From Albus, his name had sounded friendly, comradely. From the Dark Lord, it was a sibilant hiss of serpents. But from Draco, his name evoked the image of a stern taskmaster, an old curmudgeon and Snape realised that this was what Draco saw him as.

Snape heard somebody clear his throat and saw that Wormtail had entered the room. The other man had obviously had a bath for his hair was dripping wet and his clothing looked faintly damp. "Breakfast is on the table," he muttered.

"Why can't we just conjure up some?" Draco asked.

Standing up, Snape glared at the boy. "Perhaps because we are fugitives from the Ministry and they are undoubtedly trying to trace our magical signatures at this very moment. The only reason why they aren't bursting in here is because the Dark Lord himself is our Secret Keeper. I would rather take no chances," he said. "I sincerely hope your mother had some sense and sent you here via Untraceable Apparation."

Draco nodded mutely.

Snape left the room and walked towards the dingy little kitchen without seeing if Draco was following. As he entered the kitchen, he could hear Draco's footsteps coming after him.

Looking around, Draco wrinkled his nose. "Why do you live here?"

"Did you perhaps forget my declaration yesterday?" Snape said acidly. "You just requested the help of a half-blood. This was my father's house until he was… relieved of it."

Snape could see a myriad of emotions flicker over Draco's face before it settled back to neutrality. "I would still like your help, Severus." There was just the tiniest emphasis on his name.

"We'll see." Snape sat down and stared at the breakfast Wormtail had prepared. It was poor fare and he was surprised that Draco did not complain. There was a look of disdain on the boy's face as he examined the soggy bacon and watery eggs but not a word of criticism. It took all of Snape's self-control not to simply wave his wand and change it into an edible meal.

Snape was despairing of what to do with Wormtail. The Dark Lord, finding little use for the rat, had assigned him to help Snape. So far, Snape had found Wormtail useless for anything, even house-elf work.

As Draco ate, Snape could see the colour slowly returning to his face. The boy had never had a particularly ruddy complexion, but it was now nearing his normal shade of white with a tinge of pink on the cheeks. "Thank you," Draco said, after a long silence. "For the meal, I mean."

He sneered. "Doubtless your house-elves could prepare far more edible food." Snape could see Wormtail cringe at his words.

"Unfortunately," Draco said, "as you said, we are fugitives from the Ministry. Going home, at the moment, is not an option." His words were slightly shaky.

Snape suspected that the boy was on the verge of collapsing. He was veering from the role of the Malfoy patriarch that he had been groomed from birth to be, to somebody who was on the verge of revolting against the Dark Lord, to somebody who accepted his fate far too calmly. The boy needed to be taught some control or he would be killed. A part of Snape wanted to agree to this plan. With Draco under his tutelage, perhaps he could temper the effects of the Dark Lord on the boy. Or perhaps, a voice taunted, you just want somebody to confide in. He ignored the voice.

There were obvious benefits in keeping Draco close to him. It guaranteed the loyalty of Narcissa and he could stop the boy from getting himself killed needlessly.

Nevertheless, there were just as many pitfalls. Wormtail was as stupid as they came so Snape had no fear of being able to hide any possible signs of his disloyalty to the Dark Lord from the rat. But if Draco were to stay, there would be no chance of him ever contacting his former colleagues. Of course, Snape was positive that the Order was currently in the process of vilifying him. He didn't expect any better from them.

Still, Snape wondered how he was going to achieve his final goal without at least some help. Either the Order. Or somebody else. There were only so many factors one person could consider.

"I will contact the Dark Lord," Snape said, at last. "He is very displeased with you, Draco. This is true, but, I may be able to convince him that it was youthful indiscretion that stayed your hand."

"Thank you," Draco blurted out.

Snape stared at him until the boy looked away. "Consider this a debt you owe to me."

Draco nodded, not seeming surprised at all. Then again, Snape hadn't expected him to be. This was simply the way things operated in Slytherin House.

They finished their breakfast in silence.