Apparently no one shared my excitement for the third chapter...I only received one review and that was from my Beta...I must not be doing as well as I thought I was with this story. Well, regardless, here is chapter four. I hope someone enjoys it.

Hide-N-Seeker


Chapter four: In the Blood

There were several unbreakable rules to being a Malfoy that Draco would rather die than forget. The first of which was to always remember that you were a Malfoy and must always act accordingly. This was the only thing keeping him from wrinkling his nose in distaste.

It wasn't just the smell, or the layer of grime permanently stuck to everything, though those were reason enough to cause the fastidious blond to step with extreme caution through the narrow halls. No, it was the ragged pitiful moans of despair that disgusted him most. Azkaban was packed with criminals who were still traumatized by the defected prison guards. Honestly, Draco couldn't find an ounce of pity for the pathetic remains of once noble men and women who sold their lives to the Dark Lord long ago. Any pureblood should know better than to lower themselves to what these honor less idiots had done by allying themselves to an even bigger idiot.

And yes, Draco did include his own father in that category. Lucius Malfoy had his son's loyalty and his love, but he had lost his respect the moment he had been caught in the Department of Mysteries. He was just relieved that with the dementor's gone, at least this meeting with his father would be sane.

"This way," the guard leading him through the labyrinth of halls gestured toward a heavy looking metal door. A cracked sign above the frame read Tier Fourteen. Draco raised one pale eyebrow and considered the numerous stair cases he had been forced to tread since his arrival. He would have sworn that there were at least fifty of the blasted things. The guard shoved the door open with his foot and hollered out "Malfoy! You got yo'self a vis'tor!"

Draco cringed and listened to the screeching echo fade off in the distance. A moment of silence followed the yell before the prisoners behind them took up wailing and screaming in response. He was glad when the door swung shut behind them and the cacophony of voices was reduced to a mere whisper.

"Malfoy!" the guard yelled out again.

Draco glared at the back of the man's head and thought about reprimanding the fool for disabusing his name in such a way. When he opened his mouth to do just that, his fathers voice did it for him.

"Must you display your poor manners so openly," Lucius addressed the guard lazily and then as an after though added, "sir?"

"Shuddup," the guard grinned, showing off several yellowed teeth and a few gaps where others had fallen out. "Pretty Boy here came to see you."

Draco almost chocked on his next breath and adopted an offended expression when this thing dared to address him so. This time, he let his perfect nose wrinkle and his mouth turn down at the corners in visual manifestation of his disgust.

"Draco?" his fathers voice sounded much less sarcastic now and more hopeful than Draco could ever recall having heard before. With his frown still in place, Draco strode down the hall until he could peer into the closest rooms. He found Jugson, Dolohov, Nott and Avery before he found the familiar liquid grey eyes he had inherited.

Draco stared at the rumpled figure of his father in silence. There was a time that Lucius Malfoy would have never been seen in any state less than perfection. Circumstances seem to have take the elder Malfoy at a disadvantage. Without that mantle of aristocratic perfection cloaking him, Lucius looked nothing like the man that Draco had striven so hard to emulate.

"Father," Draco quietly greeted the man standing before him.

Lucius Malfoy flinched visibly, something that Draco had never seen him do, and then a pale dirt smudged hand lifted to wrap around the bars of the cell.

Draco knew that more than the thick bars stood between him and his sire.

"Draco," Lucius whispered back and moved as close to his son the cell would allow. "You came to see me."

"You did request my presence," Draco responded.

A small smirk lifted the corners of the elder Malfoy's mouth as he took in the cool attitude of his only child. "I did," he acknowledged.

Draco decided to let his father say what he wanted before he had his own say. He had several things to tell the older man. Things that he was sure that other wouldn't like.

Lucius Malfoy reached one slender hand through the bars on his cell and touched the immaculate folds of Draco's robes. The high quality fabric was cool against his skin and remained clean as he clenched the cloth in his fist. Slowly, as to keep the hovering guard away, he drew his son closer to him. "We must speak."

"I gathered that," Draco brushed his fathers weak grasp off and scowled at the wrinkles now twisted in the fabric.

"My trial is tomorrow." Lucius began.

Draco clenched his own fingers into fists and resisted the urge to hang his head and stare at his feet rather that face his father with his own disappointment clear for the elder to see. After a subtly hidden deep breath, he forcefully met those familiar silver eyes and flinched. He had never expected to see Lucius Malfoy looking defeated, but sure as he was standing in Azkaban, he father looked beaten.

He shook his head at the thought and licked his suddenly dry lips before croaking out the appropriate, "So soon?" that was expected of him. They both knew what day it was and had been thinking of little else since the capture.

"We knew this was going to happen someday, son. It was inevitable. I had hoped...but that is no matter. Draco, I asked you here today because there is something that I must have you do."

Draco visibly winced and stepped back from the bars of his father's cell. He had know that this was coming and thought that he had been prepared for it. He felt his stomach churning as he fought to regain control of his nervous responses. "I can not help you escape, father. As much as I want you home, I can't."

Lucius swallowed and grabbed his son's robe again. "I would not ask that of you. Not of you."

The intensity of those silver eyes made them seem to glow in the weak light of the prison ward while Draco tried to grasp what his father was saying.

While he might have shared some of the opinions as his father concerning muggles and muggleborns, Draco was not so immersed in the bigotry to lose all sense of reality. Allying himself with Voldemort was no more than suicide. And Draco had no wish to die.

Draco had been dreading the conversation that he knew had to happen some day about his own allegiances. The younger Malfoy just could not see himself bowing down and serving the ugly creature that had ruled the later years of his fathers life. He had been there when his father would return to the manor in need of medical attention and struggling to do something as simple as breathe on his own.

Several weeks into the winter holidays Draco had been the only one home when his father had stumbled in from one of their "meetings" and started to vomit blood all over the marble floor. He could still see the weak, red tinted grin of greeting his father had given him before passing out and Draco had begun yelling for the closest house elf. Until that time, he had managed to convince himself that what his father was fighting for was worth a little bit of suffering. If a few rounds of crucio would help win them this war...but as time wore on, Draco was beginning to grow up enough to see the extent of Voldemort's madness and realize that he wanted no part of it. That brought him back to his father's strange behavior.

"Draco, you must swear to me, swear on your own magic, that you will not allow that monster to mark you." Lucius urgently shook his son's shoulder as he spoke. "Draco, on your magic," Lucius hissed.

"W-what?" Draco stammered. He had never expected such words to fall from his father's mouth.

"On your magic, Draco." Lucius demanded.

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. His father wanted to him to swear an oath so powerful that to break it, it would reduce him and any of his line to squibs; a fate many purebloods viewed as worse that death. He searched the tired lines on his father's face and found that last bit of familiar intensity reserved for him in those eyes. "I swear it, father. I shall never take the Dark Mark, nor ever serve its maker."

A tingle of magic coursed through his blood as the vow took effect and Draco shivered at the sensation. He stared hard at his sire and watched in concern as the older blond slumped against the bars in relief and satisfaction. "Father?" he called softly. "Why?"

"I would never force you to follow that thing the way I have been forced to do."

"Forced? But you-"

Lucius frowned at his son until he regained his composure and answered, "Yes. Your grandfather was not a very caring individual. But he did believe in the cause, as do I. The difference is that, given the choice, I would not have chosen that psychopath to lead us toward a better world."

"But," Draco struggled to understand, "why did you stay, then?"

Lucius tapped his arm the where the darkened flesh of the dark mark burned still on his skin. I gave a blood promise to serve him, Draco. I can not do otherwise without losing my life..."

Draco leaned against the cold iron of the bars and touched the warm hand Lucius held out to him. "Does mother know?"

"I could never have kept this from her. She knows. She knew before she married me."

"I don't understand," Draco whispered unhappily. He felt all he had known slipping from him until he was lost and alone, and for the first time, free.

"I was marked over seventeen years ago, Draco. Do you know what the Dark Mark is? What it does? I made that blood pact to protect you. The price for my service, Draco, was you and your mother. I would do all I could to further his cause...in exchange for your lives."

Draco stared at his father in growing horror. He had never expected this. There had never been even the smallest of hints to show that his father had not been acting on his own ideals. There had been no indication that Lucius Malfoy was anything but the most loyal of Death Eaters. But then, slytherins were known for their masks.

"Your mother knows, she will explain this to you later." Draco nodded dumbly and wrapped his arms around his body to ward off the sudden chill he felt. He had come prepared to argue about his decision to refuse the dark mark only to be told to swear an oath not to take it. He had arrived expecting to have to crush his father's perception of him when he informed him that he could not help him escape, only to find that it had never been expected of him to begin with. He had come here, knowing that this could be the last time he would see his father and that it would not be on good terms when they parted, only to find that his father was staring at him with more pride in he eyes than he had ever shown his heir before. Draco didn't know what to say, so he continued to nod mindlessly.

"One other thing, my son." Lucius interrupted him, "You must marry, as soon as you can, and procure an heir of your own."

Draco blinked and stared. The surreal quality to this day growing by the minute. "Marry!" he cried and knew that his jaw had dropped open.

"Indeed," the older blond affirmed, sounding much more like his old self.

"B-but, why!" Draco asked.

Lucius Malfoy frowned at younger, more feminine version of himself. "The Malfoy name must continue, my son. You are of a suitable age to find a spouse and produce the next in our line. When I am gone, it falls to you to make sure that our heritage in not lost. You will have a year to get used to the idea," he informed the gaping teen.

"A year?" Draco squeaked. "But who would I marry? You haven't betrothed me to some random pureblood brood mare, have you! Please tell me it's not Parkinson! I will not settle for some-"

"A Malfoy does not 'settle,' " Lucius cut off his son's rant before he could say more. "We take only the best. I expect you to find your spouse the same way that I had and my father before me. All you will be responsible for is the actual marriage and the conception of a child, which I have no doubt will be a simple enough task for you. " Lucius smirked. "Your match will be chosen the same way that all Malfoy's find their intended. Our House Guardian is responsible for finding your perfect match."

Draco blushed at his father's reference to his reputation for meaningless relationships. He had been rather lax in hiding his numerous flings. As for the idea of marriage at the age of seventeen,

Draco knew that he should be protesting vehemently, but either he was too stunned by recent events to respond correctly, or he was simply having some strange kind of nightmare where he had lost all grip of his own reality. As far as he knew, there was no particular family guardian, unless you counted several of the ancient ghosts of past family members that still kept watch over their descendants. With all of these thoughts running through his head, Draco convinced himself that he should be glad to know that still had the presence of mind to ask, "Guardian?"

"Listen carefully, my son." Lucius nodded to the younger, "You must find my cane. It was taken from me when I arrived here."

"It was delivered to the manor," Draco replied absently but found himself dragged back to reality when his fathers face brightened considerably at the news.

"Excellent. That is very good to know. Find it, and Draco, at your first opportunity, you must recite the spell that will awaken the spirit that sleeps there."

"In your cane?" Draco asked.

"For now, yes. Listen, the incantation is 'Minuo' . When you are alone, hold the cane and repeat what I have just told you. There will be no need for your wand. The Guardian has his own kind of magic. Then you must say 'Reus Per Cruor' It will then begin to search for your perfect match."

"Perfect match? Father, what are you-"

Lucius cut him off again and continued his explanation. "The Guardian was created centuries ago for just this purpose. It knows our family, knows you, and will only choose the best to stand at your side."

"The best what, father? What about age? Bloodlines?-"

"Gender?" Lucius smirked at his son when the younger blond waved that off and ignored the raised eyebrows this caused. He had known that his son was rather like him in the sense that he had an appreciation for beauty regardless of sex. That just meant that there were more candidates to choose from when it was time to search for his partner. "Like I said before, my son, it will find your perfect match, so any restrictions will be defined be you alone."

"So, what? I just tell this guardian what I like and then it just trots off and bonds me to some unsuspecting person?" Draco asked wide eyed.

"Basically, except you don't tell it anything. It will know all about you through your blood bond with it, which it will then transfer to your chosen mate."

"A blood bond? But that is illegal."

Lucius gave his son a bland look.

"Right, right. But it is dark magic. With the pressure of the ministry pinning us down, it will be detected the moment I try to wake this Guardian. I have no desire to make a more permanent trip to this awful place."

"As long as you give your blood willingly, it is undetectable, Draco."

"You are certain?"

"I have never lied to you."

"And prior allegiances?"

"Again, the restrictions placed on your chosen are made by you. If you truly have a problem being bonded to someone with certain ties, the Guardian will be aware of it. Do not worry, Draco. There has never been a bad match in all of our family history."

Draco allowed himself a few moments for this news to sink in before agreeing to it. "I will do as you ask, Father."

"There is one other thing that I must tell you. Tomorrow at the trial," Lucius pointed out, "I do not want you to be there."

"But-" Draco protested.

"You will not come to the trial. This is my last request of you. Stay away, Draco. I t will not be safe." Lucius took to looking across the hall into the cell opposite him where the other Death Eaters were pressed against their own doors trying to listen in.

"Dumbledore and his puppets wouldn't dare to harm-" Draco attempted to persuade his father to change his mind.

"You will do as you are told!" Lucius ordered. "It is not Dumbledore or the Ministry that concerns me."

The pale face lost any remnants of color. "Father, what are you planning?"

"Keep you mother safe, my son. And remember, Malfoy's only accept the best, Draco. Only the best." Lucius loosened his grip on the bars and backed away. "Guard, we are finished here."

"Father!" Draco protested. It was too soon. He wouldn't ever see him again. It was too soon for him to go. There was still more to say. "Wait! Father!"

"Go home, Draco. You have made me very proud of you this day."

"But-"

"Go home."

Draco found himself dragged backwards from his father's prison and struggled against the magic that the guard was using to forcibly remove him. He gave the haunted silver eyes of his sire one last sad look before he was pulled out the door and once again faced with the broken remains of witches and wizards lost in their own personal hell. Only this time, he did not feel like sneering at their misery.


Harry searched his room at the Leaky Cauldron carefully. There were no suspicious articles lying about, but Harry knew that Dumbledore was smarter than that. All of the surveillance charms would be on items that were not removable from the room. Harry glared at the mirror on the wall where it was humming happily to itself. Without the use of magic, he was forced to live with the invasion into his privacy, though he was not certain to what extent the old fool was willing to go. At this point, Harry wouldn't put anything past him.

He pealed back the covers on the bed and readied himself for bed. It had been a long and eventful day. Even with the nap he had before leaving Privet Drive, he found himself tired and weak. Yawning widely, he tucked himself into a ball with his knees close to his chest and buried his face in the soft feather pillow. He would just have to be very careful about what he said while in the building. Too many ears spying on him and too few friends that he could count on to stand by his side.

It was coming down to a choice between Harry and Dumbledore. And it was a split in the forces of light that Harry was dreading. Somehow, he could not find anyway around it though. It was either divide himself from the meddling fool, or give himself over as no more than a puppet, a tool of war.

He sighed and forced himself to close his eyes, even though sleep would be long in coming. At least now, he had Remus. At least now, he wasn't so totally alone.

He was just drifting off when he heard a knock on his door. Harry bolted upright and stared at the wooden barrier, wondering who would be trying to reach him at this time. Cautiously, he slipped from under the warm covers and crept over to the frame. He clutched his ever present wand in his right hand and pressed himself flat against the wall near the door.

"Who is it?" he finally called.

"It's Remus," the werewolf announced.

"Prove it," Harry shot back and waited.

"Padfoot and Prongs would be very proud of you, Harry. You are certainly taking no chances..." Remus chuckled out.

Harry backed up a step and called out again. "Open the door very slowly and step in." He watched as the door swung open and the tattered cloak the werewolf always wore came into view.

"Good enough?" Remus asked with great humor.

"Good enough," Harry grinned at his friend. "What are you doing here so late?"

Remus motioned for them to move further into the room and closed the door behind him. Harry perched on the bed, seeking the warmth that he had left behind, while Remus took the hard straight backed desk chair.

"I've been called away." Remus told the young man straight out. "The Order needs me to go look into something."

"It hasn't even been twenty four hours!" Harry protested.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Remus lifted his hands apologetically.

"That old fool doesn't like the fact that I talked to you where he couldn't hear us." Harry did a fine impression of the wolf with his growl of anger.

"I hardly think that things are as bad as all that," Remus tried to comfort the boy. Harry was having no part in that though. He gestured at his friend to cast the detections spell and find what charms were present since he could not.

Remus was surprised to find no less than seven charms meant for warding and surveillance. There were more charms used for monitoring than there were for protection. He frowned and cast a few more charms of his own to allow them a small bubble of space where they would be free to talk. Dumbledore would be able to detect it, but he could not stop it.

When he was finished, Harry curled himself into a ball with his knees tucked under his chin. "He used me, Remus. But the worst part is that he still believes he is doing the right thing. Nothing has changed except that now I am aware of his manipulations."

"Harry as much as I agree with you that what Albus has done is wrong, the alternative is so much worse. The Order is the only other protection you have."

"I know that, But it doesn't make it easier to accept."

"What will you do?"

"Play the game, I guess, till one of us wins. There is very little I can do. I wish I could just run away from it all sometimes. There's nothing here for me. Not really..."

"Your friends-"

"Are amazingly fickle." Harry finished for Remus. "Can you honestly see Hermione standing with me over Dumbledore? She thinks the world of him. And Ron would follow her anywhere."

"I'm here," Remus told him quietly.

"I know," Harry sent a shy smile that did not last. "But for how long."

"Harry, I would never abandon you!" Remus said, hurt.

"Sometimes we're not given the choice. Sirius wasn't. Cedric wasn't. My parents...Remus, one day, regardless of how careful you are, you won't be coming back."

"Harry, I have to go on these missions. It's the only thing I can do to help you."

"It would help me more if you could be here for me!" Harry didn't mean for that to come out quite as savagely as it did, but he couldn't find the heart to feel bad about it. He meant it exactly the way it sounded.

"Harry-"

"I know, I know. I'm being selfish. But Remus, if anything happens to you, I will be alone. Ron and Hermione are great friends, but they will never truly understand what 'alone' really means. Not like I know you can." Harry tightened himself into a smaller target and bit his lip bloody.

"You know, after..." Remus left his chair and joined Harry on the bed. He placed a fatherly hand on the small shoulder. "After they sent Sirius to Azkaban, I wanted nothing more that to adopt you myself. But it was decided that it was best to send you to your aunt."

"Who decided, Remus?" Harry asked bitterly. "You mean Dumbledore, don't you?"

"And the rest of the Order. As a Werewolf-"

"That's bullshit!"

"Harry!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! They tell you it doesn't matter, until there is a situation when it shouldn't matter. I don't care that you are a werewolf. I never did. And neither did my parents. You are still the closest thing to family I have. They take advantage of you and your curse just like they do to me and mine," he gestured wildly at his own forehead. "Besides, I've seen you in your wolf form, Remus. You are no monster. A bit scary, perhaps, but no monster."

With tears in his eyes, Remus pulled Harry into a gentle hug. "You are my family too, Harry. You are more than pack. You are the cub I will never have. And I am more grateful than you could ever know, to hear that you think so highly of me."

"But you still have to go," Harry sighed and wrapped his own arms around Remus' neck. He felt the man nod against his shoulder. "Promise me that you will be careful."

"I swear it, cub."

Harry pulled back. "Cub?" he asked, amusement starting to trickle into his voice.

"All part of being a dark creature, Harry. The wolf in me sees you as family just as much as I do."

"Still," harry whined. "It makes me sound so...small and defenseless."

"In case you haven't noticed, cub," Remus grinned. "You are small."

Harry pouted cutely at his friend and playfully smacked him in the arm. "But not defenseless."

"No," Remus chuckled. "Never that."

"So," Harry sobered up. "Do I have to go back to the Dursley's?"

"Not at all. You are to stay here with Tonks and Mundungus since you are already aware of them. They are here to help you," Remus scolded the now scowling teen. "I will come back, Harry. As soon as I can."

He nodded and sighed. "Be careful."

Remus let the spell he had cast dissipate and he gave the boy one more hug. He was thrilled that Harry was allowing him so close and concerned when he felt how thin his body was under those baggy clothes. "I will be back soon," he told the boy and strode to the door. "Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone."

Harry smiled and shook his head. "Nothing that I can't get myself out of," he agreed. The smile fell when the door closed behind the werewolf's back. Once again, it seemed that Dumbledore was manipulating things. There were other Order members. There was no reason to choose Remus...unless he wanted Harry isolated.

Harry returned to his bed. He found the previous warmth had long ago disappeared and he curled into a ball once again. He couldn't find the energy to do more than pull the covers over his head before falling asleep.


She liked the wolf-man. He was kind and truthful to her charge. He was a loyal friend. All qualities that she held dear to her own heart. As he conversed with the boy, she sensed the sadness in him as well as the conflict. She still hadn't come up with an explanation as to why he was allowing his souls to attack one another. It was unhealthy.

As he left the building where the boy was staying, she howled a farewell to him, wishing him, a safe journey and an even faster return. She saw that wolf's head snap around in startle-ment, his eyes flashed golden once before he was whisked away by his own spell. Harry liked him. He was good for the blood heir. Her guardianship was temporary after all. And as of yet, he was not even aware of her presence.

That would change, of course. As the bond grew, so would the child's awareness of things around him. A pleasing side-effect of bonding with her, she thought proudly. As soon as she reached familiar status, he would be ready to learn about his own heritage. And the sooner he was free of the tangled webs of intrigue that he seemed to be caught up in here, the better.

She had set all the wards around him when the two had been talking in the store with the cold sweets. She had remained far enough away to not be seen, but close enough to hear and to work. The boy was well protected from harm. At least magical harm, but physical attacks he would have to ward off himself. And he was so small...she worried.

She had enjoyed the tales about Lily Evans, another of the blood, though her magic had not been strong enough to inform them as to her whereabouts. It wasn't until she had called their names, right before her death, that they had been able to track her. The baby she had left behind was the only remnant of her left. They all mourned her passing, though they did not know her personally. It was rare to find one of their own so young. Their people were old. They were immortal, though they could be killed or contained. It was a great crime to find one of their blood dead. It was a great loss. But they were able to rejoice in the knowledge that she had birthed a child before her passing.

But, they had no rights he him until he called for them. He had to be the one to open himself to them...it was the way it worked. They only had the opportunity to move closer now because his life was being threatened. Even so, they were forced to work from the shadows.

She found a dry place to sleep and curled up. She would wake when the boy did. When he was ready to move, she would be ready to move with him. If it took her life to keep him safe, she would gladly give it. Hopefully, the boy would stay out of trouble...but when had one of their kind ever been able to keep from trouble? She snorted and tucked her nose into her tail...the answer to that was, never.


Draco did not return to the manor that night. He found himself at Diagon Alley, browsing the stores and trying to keep his mind from dwelling on what his father had planned. He couldn't face his mother yet, and though he promised to stay away from the trial, he wanted to be close by. If this was as close as he could get, than so be it.

He wandered with no deliberate path, choosing at random the direction he would go. He had been here so many times that there were no surprises, nothing new to hold his interest. Shopping had lost its appeal long ago. There was nothing that he wanted that he didn't already have. And though he was spoiled, he wasn't one to buy something just for the sake of buying it. So after several hours of window shopping, he was still empty handed.

At one point in his wanderings, Draco had thought that he had seen Potter stroll by, but after he had managed to work his way through the crowd, the boy was gone. That had been the only thing to have the power to distract him from musing about his father's trial. Potter had always been one subject that Draco was always willing to immerse himself into.

The dark-haired boy had plagued Draco's thoughts more often than any other subject since the day they had met at Madame Malkin's. Briefly, he wondered if the other boy even remembered that. It still made him angry to think about how he had been brushed aside so easily. He had been the one to see him first. He had been the first to speak with him. He had been the one that should have been his best friend. He had been the one that should have had all sorts of grand adventures with Potter. It still made him seethe to feel that jealousy in his gut. Jealousy for a Weasley. It was no wonder that he was so nasty to the red head. Potter should have been his.

In truth, he was not as nasty as he made himself out to be when around the Golden Trio. His bitterness had faded some after their third year, but by then, it was habit to seek them out and taunt them. Besides, being the Golden Boy's rival was the closest he could get to the other. The more angry he made Potter, the more attention he got from him. It was a twisted sort of relationship, but Draco figured that it was better than nothing.

What probably annoyed him the most was even with things the way they were now, he still liked the boy. Potter was a tough person to dislike. He was so...alive. He was everything that Draco wanted to be, everything Draco wanted. And it pissed him off to know it. So, of course, the taunting became more violent. They began to exchange hexes, occasionally their fights came to physical blows, and even though Potter was smaller that he was, the boy was fast.

Draco located a higher class inn with a vacancy and requested a room. His father's trial was early in the morning. He was the first of the captured Death Eaters to go to the court. What ever Lucius Malfoy had planned, it was sure to be big. Draco just hoped that his family would survive it.


Lucius Malfoy was surprised when the guard screamed out his name again, late that evening. "My, you are a popular one t'day!" the snaggle-toothed guard called out. "Tho' this one ain't as pretty!"

Two dark shadows emerged from the doorway and strode down the hall. One had billowing robes trailing behind it. There was only one person that Lucius knew that walked like that.

"Hello Severus," he greeted his old friend.

"Lucius," Snape returned with a nod of his head. "How are you?"

The blond aristocrat gave the dark shadow a mocking smirk. "I would think that would be rather obvious."

Severus Snape sent a deadly glare at the maniacally grinning guard and watched in satisfaction as he gulped and wandered away to harass some of the other prisoners. He turned his dark eyes back to the blond. "You know why I am here?"

"I assume you were sent."

"I was not."

"Then why are you here?" Lucius peered through the bars. "If not to poison us in case we mean to talk, what purpose do you serve?"

Severus Snape sighed. "In this case," he told the suspicious man, "my own. Despite some differences in interest, you have been my friend."

The blond snorted elegantly. "People like us do not have friends, Severus. Though if I were to have one, it would be you."

"Perhaps you are right." Snape examined the cell Lucius was standing in. "The guard told me the Draco was here today..."

"Indeed. I had some...family business to discuss with him before my trial tomorrow." Lucius responded. He managed to sound utterly bored with the whole process, but Snape wasn't fooled.

He studied the taller man with the same intense scrutiny as he was being subjected to. "Are you afraid that I will talk, Severus? That I will spill our Lord's secrets?"

"Hardly," the Potions Master sneered. "We both know that you would be the last to rebel against him."

"Yes, the Dark Mark is strong, and I have no wish to decrease my life span, though I fear it has been significantly shortened anyway. The blood oath keeps us from going against him. There is no way to fight him. "

"There is a way." Snape answered carefully, trying to feel the other man out. "The oath states that we had to do his will. I do that...and more."

Lucius searched the dark eyes of his old house mate. "I see..." A small smile tilted the corners of his mouth. "More indeed." He was rather surprised to find that the traitor in their ranks was none other that Snape. Surprised, but pleased. Severus was Draco's godfather. If anyone could help the boy now, it would be Severus...

Lucius bowed his head. "I made Draco swear an oath..."

Severus felt his nostrils flare in rage. The thought of his Godson caught up in all that horror was infuriating.

"He will not be permitted to serve as we have done...or he will lose his magic."

"Lucius," Severus breathed. "What have you done!"

"I have protected my only child from serving that maniac!" the blond spat back. "I would think that you would be glad to hear it."

Severus clenched his teeth. "You have signed his death warrant," he hissed. "The Dark Lord will not accept that the Malfoy family is out of his grasp. He will hunt down your son using what ever means he can."

"I know that," Lucius sighed. "But I have some faith in my heir. He will find a way to survive this."

"Every Death Eater in the ranks will be sent after him faster than you can say Crucio!" Severus protested.

Lucius smirked slightly. "Every Death Eater will be too busy trying to save their own skins. My son will have the time he needs to forge his own alliances." He gave the darker man a significant look.

"What are you going to do?" Severus demanded. "Lucius, this is madness!"

"No, this is justice. Something that none of us have yet to experience. I am not sorry for the lives I took. I am not sorry for the things that I have done. I am only sorry that they were ever necessary. But, I would do it again in a heartbeat, if it would keep my family safe. Goodbye, Severus. Watch over my son." Lucius turned his back on the Potion's Master, ignoring the strangled breathing behind him.

Snape knew that there was no more he could say. The damage had already been done. He stared at his friend quietly before whirling around. "Goodbye, Lucius. And good luck."

Lucius smiled in the dark after the door clanged shut again. "I won't be the one needing luck, Severus. No, my luck has indeed run out..."


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