Author's Note: Hey everyone, thanks once again for the really nice reviews, they make my day! I'm glad you liked my last chapter, even if I didn't. This one is shorter, but worth a read I think, so read on!

Chapter 11

Unexpectations

Murky clouds swirled in the sky and rain slashed through the night as a great rumble of thunder sounded loudly, rattling the foggy windows in their panes. A bolt of lightning flashed through the darkness, illuminating the dark, wet street for a split second. Severus Snape scowled and turned his head from the window. The only source of light in his bedroom was a flickering candle that sat on his bedside table, wax running down its side and creating a pool on the wood. The low burning flame cast odd, shuddering shadows over the walls, and Severus tried to sit up and lean on his bed pillows, wincing with pain.

"Wormtail!" he called loudly, his voice carrying through the open door and down the hallway.

There was a shuffling noise from the sitting room, and a small, squat, watery-eyed man appeared, hovering timidly in the doorway. For a moment Snape gazed down at him with disgust, letting out a snort of contempt.

"Fetch me a glass of cold water," he commanded finally, attempting with difficulty to sit up a little higher in bed.

A fleeting look of deep hatred crossed Wormtail's round, sweaty face before he mumbled, "Yes, right away," and scurried out of the room. For a few seconds Severus stared with repugnance at the spot where Wormtail had been standing, then looked away and heaved a shuddering yawn.

His whole body throbbed with a constant dull ache, the aftereffects of Voldemort's torture upon him. He did not know how long it had lasted, but it had to have been quite some time for the pain not to have ebbed away completely by now. The only thing he could remember was the white-hot, piercing pain that he had suffered, penetrating his very heart. The agony had been such as he had never felt. He had endured the Cruciatus Curse before, but never had it been aguish such as this had been. When it was over he had found himself on the ground and had stayed there panting, breathing in the smell of the soil, not having the will to move his aching limbs until Voldemort had commanded him to.

"I hope you have learned your lesson, Severus," Voldemort's high-pitched voice had echoed around the circle.

Just then Wormtail announced his returned presence in the room by mumbling a soft "oops" as he spilled water clumsily over the edge of the glass he was carrying and onto his filthy shirt in his haste to bring the glass to the bedside table. Severus scowled at him as he set the water down, slopping even more of it out of the glass and onto the wood.

"You are an insufferable slob," sneered Severus, glaring down at Wormtail, who looked weakly at him through beady, watery black eyes, shifting from foot to foot. "Get out of my sight," he snapped, and Wormtail glared at Severus as though he would like nothing better than to take the glass of water and dump it over Snape's head. But instead he turned and scuttled out through the door, muttering furiously under his breath.

As soon as Wormtail left the room, Severus leaned over to grasp the glass of water (now only half full), dull pains pulsing in his arm and chest as he did so. He raised the cup to his lips and sipped, cool water soothing his sore, parched throat. As he set the glass back down on the bedside table, he wondered idly what Voldemort would have him do now. Narcissa and Draco will surely be dead by now, he thought with an unexpected painful twang in his chest that had nothing to do with the aftermath of the Cruciatus Curse. Despite his greatest efforts, the Malfoy family was dead. For what seemed like the billionth time, Severus wondered where his loyalty lay. It lies with the Dark Lord, of course, the voice in the back of his head reprimanded. Don't be a fool. And he knew it was so, for in time Voldemort would have control of most of Britain, his terrorist ways too powerful to overcome. Severus was sure that the Dark Lord would have taken over sixteen years ago, if it had not been for Potter.

Ah, yes, the Potter boy. How miraculous that a tiny one-year-old boy could have been such a danger to the greatest wizard who ever lived. Did Severus regret not being able to report the rest of that prophecy to the Dark Lord? He did not know, all he knew was that he was as fascinated as the rest of Britain when Voldemort had fallen. But now he was back, more powerful and treacherous than ever. It was continue to be a Death Eater, or die.

Rain lashed even harder against the windows and the side of the house, sounding like a constant, rapid drum roll. At first, Severus didn't recognize the knock for what it was, amidst the loud, rapping rain. But a few seconds later, Wormtail reappeared in the doorway and said, "There is someone at the door…sir."

Severus looked down at the rat-like man. "So answer it!" he barked, wondering how thick one person could be. Wormtail glared for a moment, and then bowed his way out of the room. As soon as Wormtail had left, Severus automatically reached out his hand for his wand that lay next to the water on his table, bringing it close to his side and gripping it tightly, pain shooting through his fingers. He could not suppress the feeling of apprehension that was growing in the pit of his stomach, and he could not help feeling that if the time came for a duel he would be no good, seeing as he could barely walk across the room.

Severus strained his ears, but could not hear much for the rain pounding ruthlessly outside. He barely heard the front door open, but did not hear Wormtail speak at all. He gripped his wand even tighter. Feeling every hair on the back of his neck stand up, finally Severus heard footsteps through the gale, entering through the front hall and into the sitting room. It wasn't until the footfalls reached the hallway outside of his bedroom that Severus made the greatest effort to heave himself out of bed, throwing the covers to one side. His muscles screamed in protest as he used the bedside table to hold himself up, still trembling slightly. His heart beat violently in his chest as a figure turned into the hall and stood outside his door.

He was soaked and shivering, his cloak plastered to his thin body. Severus stared at the boy with his lank blond hair sticking to his face. For a moment there was silence marred by only the steady drip, drip, drip of water from one of his sleeves.

"Draco," said Snape incredulously, feeling his hand trembling, his hold on his wand loosening. "You're…what are you doing here?" He lowered himself back onto his bed, wincing. He thought it may have been a bit melodramatic to have said "You're alive", which had been his first instinct. He watched as the pale Malfoy boy walked, quivering, to the small armchair that stood near the wardrobe. He sank into it with a squelching noise and closed his eyes, gripping the arms of the hair with his hands.

"My…my mother…," breathed Draco. His face was ashen and pallid and he looked exhausted as he stammered. But Severus thought he knew what Draco was trying to say. "He…he murdered her…"

There was a hiccup of fear accompanied by an uncomfortable sort of scuffling noise near the door.

"GET OUT, WORMTAIL!" roared Snape, lifting his wand and waving it at the wooden door so that it slammed shut loudly, causing Malfoy to give a start of surprise. Wormtail squealed from the other side of the door, and his footsteps pattered away quickly. As soon as this happened Severus sighed heavily and closed his eyes, sinking back onto his pillows. He had not expected this at all, he had thought that Voldemort had killed the entire Malfoy family. What he didn't understand was how the Dark Lord had murdered both Draco's parents, but the boy had managed to escape.

"Draco…," Snape said quietly, opening his eyes to look at the Malfoy boy, pasty and slumped in the chair. "How did you...that is to say how did you manage to get here…alive?"

"Hid under the floor," grunted Draco, his voice hoarse. Severus could not understand exactly what this response meant, but did not press the boy. "Reductored my way out…Apparated here…"

Severus massaged his temples, trying to think. What could he do? Draco would not be able to stay here for long, or else they were both bound to be murdered. It might be worth dying, he thought. Just to end it all. But no, he couldn't condemn Draco to death. He racked his brains vigorously, trying to think of a place, any place that Draco could hide safely. The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix? No, how could he even think of hiding Draco in a place where he was probably hated almost as much as the Dark Lord himself? And besides, Voldemort was bound to know where the headquarters were now that the Order had been short a Secret-Keeper, at least for a brief period of time. There wasn't anywhere…he could not think.

The Potter boy.

The last place the Dark Lord would expect to find Malfoy was staying with Harry Potter.

But no, there were too many flaws. Where was Potter staying? And how, how on earth would he convince the brash, thick-headed Potter to let Draco stay with him, let alone refrain from jinxing him at first sight? He couldn't very well go knocking on the boy's front door. And there was not enough time. He had a few days at most…but…

"WORMTAIL!" yelled Snape suddenly, remembering. How could he have been so stupid? Of course the little rat was bound to tell Voldemort right away.

There was that scuttling noise again, and Wormtail's greasy nose appeared in a crack in the doorway. "Y-yes?" came a trembling voice.

"Come here, Wormtail."

The man did so, and as he did, Severus tightened the grip on his wand. He then lifted himself gingerly and painfully out of his bed and limped over to where Draco sat slumped in the armchair. He rapped the boy hard on top of his blond head, giving him a start, and watched as he slowly disappeared, blending perfectly into the room. He then turned back to Wormtail who was looking confused and disdainful at the same time, pointed his wand straight at the stout, rat-like little man and shouted loudly, "Obliviate!"

A jet of faint blue light accompanied by a rushing noise emitted from the wand and hit Wormtail square between the eyes. As soon as this happened Wormtail's eyes slid briefly out of focus, and then back into focus again. Snape limped back over to his bed and grimaced with pain as he sat.

"Wormtail," he said, setting his wand carefully onto the bedside table as another crash of thunder rattled the floorboards. "Was there a knock on the door just now?"

Wormtail glared suspiciously with his watery little eyes at Snape for a moment then said, "No."

"But you did bring me this glass of water a moment ago, didn't you?"

"Yes," said Wormtail slowly, looking even more apprehensive. But he did not glance near the spot where the near-invisible Draco sat silently. Severus fought back the urge to breathe a sigh of relief.

"You may go, Wormtail," said Snape, waving nonchalantly towards the door. Wormtail did so, shooting wary backward glances behind him. He closed the door as he exited and Severus leaned back once more on his pillows, cringing with pain. He hoped that his memory charm would be sufficient in keeping Wormtail from telling Voldemort, after all, how could be tell what he could not remember? But he wouldn't put it past the brainless idiot to report to Voldemort in the three minutes that he had known who had arrived. But he thought that he could imagine the battle that had waged in the man's tiny brain: he could tell Voldemort, but then he was bound to be hated and tortured by Snape, and he had nowhere else to stay. He could keep quiet, but that would only save his own skin for a short period of time. Severus hoped that this internal battle would have kept him occupied from the time that he had answered the door until this point.

"Draco?" said Severus quietly and tentatively into the dark.

"I'm here, sir," came a weak voice near the armchair.

"You will have to wear the Disillusionment Charm whilst you are here. We cannot risk you being seen by anyone but myself until I can work out where you will be most safely placed." He felt his stomach give a funny turn.

There was only so much time…

Author's Note: Wow…I am the master of bad endings…(kicks self). Oh well. Review: the good, the bad, and the ugly:)