Chapter 3

The house looked like a derelict ruin from the distance. Its front face was overgrown with ivy and the bricks looked chipped. The pathway lying in front of Snape was strewn with leaves and dirt. It wound its way through the garden before touching the house at a side entrance.

"This is where the Dark Lord told us to meet," he informed Draco who made a face. Snape itched to slap the expression off Draco's face. "I hope you aren't planning to present that face to the Dark Lord," he said.

Draco stared up at him in surprise.

"The Dark Lord has little patience for people who cannot succeed. I advise you to look penitent but do not pout," Snape warned. "There is only so much my protection can offer you."

There was no response from Draco. Snape looked over and saw that the boy was staring at his feet as he walked.

"Is that a posture worthy of the head of the Malfoy house?" he said scathingly.

Draco reacted as if slapped. "My father is still the head of the Malfoys."

Snape made a mental note to train the boy to keep his emotions to himself. It would not do for him to react this way in front of the Dark Lord. If he could mould the boy into the appearance of a perfect Death Eater, the Dark Lord would trust him as much as he trusted Bellatrix. In other words, Snape thought as he remembered Albus's words, as much as the Dark Lord could possibly trust somebody.

"Not while he rots in Azkaban, he isn't." Snape kept his tone light, almost conversational but Draco stopped almost immediately.

"How dare you," he spat. "How dare you say that about my father?"

Snape looked at him impassively. "I say nothing more than the truth. When have you been unable to face the truth, Draco?" He paused. "Remember this. It is you who came to me for help."

There was a hard look on Draco's face. "Fine," he said, sounding strangled. Then, without another word, he stalked past Snape.

Snape watched as the small figure stormed up the garden pathway, cloak streaming behind him. As Draco rounded a corner, Snape gave a start and hurried to catch up. The boy was stubbornly silent the entire way up to the house. A Death Eater who Snape didn't recognise opened the side door for them. Snape swept past Draco and entered the cold hallway. Lighted torches lined the way as he stalked down the corridor. He really didn't want to deal with Draco at the moment.

Pausing at the elaborately carved doorway, Snape waited until Draco was a few paces behind him before he pushed the door open. Before his eyes, he saw a wide hallway lit with floating candles. It reminded him of Hogwarts. Snape gritted his teeth. This was not the time to indulge in any sort of emotions beyond the anger needed to control his mental shield.

The Dark Lord was sitting on a dais at the other end of the room. There was nobody else in the room. Clad in elaborate robes, at this distance, the other man looked almost like the great revolutionary he purported to be.

Snape crossed the distance of the hall. Kneeling before the Dark Lord, he lowered his head. "My lord," he murmured. It took every shred of his self-control not to grab his wand and clench his fingers around it. It would be so easy to fire a curse at the Dark Lord. Surely, it couldn't be that hard to kill him?

"Severus." The Dark Lord's tone was measured. "Malfoy."

After a pause, Snape saw Draco kneel beside him. He shouldn't have hesitated, Snape thought.

"You wish to take Malfoy under your tutelage," the Dark Lord asked Snape.

Snape studied the grain of the wooden floor and traced the lines with his eyes as he fought to empty his mind. "My lord," he said, "I feel that Draco Malfoy has the potential to fulfil his duty as a Death Eater. He merely requires some assistance and I offer my own services. I have known the boy for six years and will be able to best help him achieve his potential."

"Look up at me, Severus," the Dark Lord commanded.

Unwillingly, Snape looked up into the bright red eyes and couldn't help feel the shiver slide down his spine.

"You are still afraid of me," the Dark Lord said approvingly. "Very well, if you feel that you can mould this miserable specimen of a wizard into a Death Eater to be proud of, then you shall be given the opportunity."

Snape saw Draco flinch at the words. He hoped the boy wouldn't say anything to endanger his life. The Dark Lord was obviously not pleased with the Malfoy family. "Thank you, my lord," he said, with as much sincerity as he could muster.

The Dark Lord held his gaze and Snape could feel the other man probing his mind. It came almost automatically to him now to raise a subtle shield. He brought images of the battle to his mind. The feeling when Potter had called him a coward. The arrogance of that brat to presume he could fight the Dark Lord. The feeling of loyalty to the Malfoy family. Finally, the Dark Lord released him and Snape relaxed infinitesimally.

"You have until the beginning of term to make a Death Eater out of him," the Dark Lord said. "I am only allowing this because you have performed me a great service. Take heed though, if this boy cannot get rid of his hesitations in the next two months, he will be mine." There was no question in Snape's mind that the Dark Lord planned to kill Draco if he could not be a loyal Death Eater.

"You are very kind, my lord."

The Dark Lord looked down at him. "Expect a gathering of my most loyal Death Eaters in a few days time. Malfoy may attend as your protégé. We will discuss the Potter issue."

Snape inclined his head. "I will be there, my lord." He made sure there was an eager note in his voice. Better to make the Dark Lord believe that he was unstable and overly eager to exact revenge against James Potter than to suspect him of being a traitor. Bellatrix was the perfect example of what the Dark Lord looked for in a perfect servant. Intelligent. Ruthless. And just slightly insane.

"You may go now." The Dark Lord dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

--

"That went better than I thought," Draco said once they were back at Spinner's End. "I thought he'd cast," he stopped suddenly and gulped.

"Crucio on you?" Snape asked casually. "I'm sure the thought passed his mind."

Draco twisted the material of his silk robes through his fingers, pulling, stretching it until Snape slapped his hands. "Why'd you do that?" Draco demanded.

"You are under my control now," Snape said evenly. "You wouldn't want to destroy that set of robes. Imagine appearing in front of the Dark Lord in torn robes." He was pleased to see Draco blanch.

"I have money," Draco tried to say but Snape cut him off.

"You will learn self-control, Draco," Snape said. "There is no harm in starting off with discipline in controlling money." He couldn't help relishing the expression on the boy's face. This was so very different to nearly twenty years ago where Snape was sitting next to a wealthy and influential Lucius and asking for his help.

Draco stood up and brushed off his robes in a pointed manner. "I'm going to my room," he said stiffly. He walked to the door and paused. Turning around, he gave what seemed like a slightly mocking bow. "I suppose I should thank you for this."

He then left.

Snape was faintly amused to see that Draco did not actually apologise. It was a gesture that spoke very strongly of the Malfoys. A part of him couldn't help but feel pleasant anticipation for the next two months. It would be good to mould Lucius Malfoy's son. And Snape had no intention of making Draco a good, obedient Death Eater.