Draco Malfoy ought to have expected it, he thought a bit with chagrin, as he sat upright. Snape had roughly shook him awake, moments earlier. Draco had to strangle a scream that fought like an undine to escape his throat. Sitting up, he regained his composure, looking quietly (but expectantly) at his godfather.

"The Dark Lord has returned." Severus Snape said gravely, his usual purr cast deeper and with a trace of a growl, as he leaned quietly in the doorframe, his angular body half bent to fit (back straight, legs stretching to the other side of the doorjam). He paused a moment, looking at Draco Malfoy almost expectantly.

Draco let a slow smirk cross his face, smugly saying, "That's good news, isn't it? Time turns in our favor, and we gain a valuable ally."

"The Dark Lord is not an ally, Draco. He counts your father as vassal, and bids him kneel." Snape said with just a trace of mordant humor.

"As is his right, my father is his sworn vassal."

"Sworn and branded, boy." Snape said, tugging his sleeve up to show the Dark Mark. "Do not forget."

Draco Malfoy eyed Snape curiously - in his mind swirled unpleasant questions - twining together like long strands of kelp in a tumultuous sea. "I hardly see how I could, sir."

"The Dark Lord currently resides in Malfoy Manor." Snape said, in that soft, implacable purr.

Draco Malfoy's world felt like it was crumbling around him, like he had stood at the top of the North Tower of Hogwarts, only to discover it was sand, and the tide was rolling in. That was supposed to be a good thing, a high honor. Draco mused, But if it was such a high honor, then why am I here? It almost, almost seemed to suggest... What was going on?!

"You will not be returning to Malfoy Manor for the foreseeable future. If asked, your parents will explain that they cannot tell where you are - as indeed they cannot. This domicile is protected by the most ancient Fidelius charm, and neither of your parents are capable of giving the Dark Lord this location." Snape continued as though it was a matter of fact, not that his soft words were destroying everything Draco Malfoy thought he had ever known.

"But... but why, sir?" Draco asked, allowing some of the confusion he felt to seep into his eyes.

"Lucius Malfoy is a power-hungry fool, yes, but he's not likely to make the same mistake twice. He swore to serve the Dark Lord - a tool, at the time, to rally a rather conservative faction of purebloods..."

"I know all that!" Draco cried out impatiently, and Snape looked down his long, straight nose at him, giving him a moment to master his anger and frustration. "He does not want you to swear to serve the Dark Lord. You are the last of his line, Draco, and he cares for you."

The words were delivered in Snape's familiar purr, but they came as almost as much of a shock as Draco could handle. Severus Snape was one of the most perceptive people he knew, and he wouldn't lie to Draco. Not over this, at any rate. Slytherins were slow to invest trust or caring in others, and Draco had always wondered, deep in a part of his heart that he kept well buried from others, whether his father cared. For Snape to say so...

"You will stay here, unless absolutely necessary. If there is a dire emergency, please remember that you are surrounded by Muggle London. Disguise yourself, and walk wandless, as a worthless Muggle. Trust to your Slytherin cunning to guide you to safety." Snape smiled a soft, small smile, that only he knew the reason for.

"I must go, before the Dark Lord calls. Walk softly."

"Strike from within the grass." Draco Malfoy said, in his way of parting, before Snape strode out of his bedroom. Draco Malfoy immediately flopped onto the bed, all pretense of genteel breeding forgotten. He lay there and closed his eyes, wishing himself to a sleep that he knew was both fleet and fleeting. He'd deal with this in the morning.

[a/n: Oooh, spice! Didja like it? Tell me inna review!

Snape as usual, is playing all sides against the middle.

Draco is the middle.]