Author's Note – All right y'all. No one reviewed, so I've decided that I don't particularly care what you think about where this is going. It's really hard to write Voldemort, so I'm dropping the whole "Voldy needs a mommy" bit. I'll probably keep it as a side plot, but I think I'm gonna focus on Draco being good. See, Turtle's the only one who's reviewed, and she loves Draco. See? You review, and the author gets happy, and writes more. And better.

If Turtle can write 5000 word chapters, then I can make 2000, right? Right?!?! Well, that's my goal this time around. Wish me luck!

Yea, I'm aware that the title is still about Voldemort, even though I've sort of (permanently) moved on from him. Maybe I'll bring him back, I don't know. It still sorta pertains to the story, right? Peter Pan Syndrome? I'm still focusing on Narcissa's motherliness…If people REVIEW, I'll be inspired. I promise. So REVIEW, like the AMAZING TURTLE did!

Dedications – To TURTLE, who is now –– years old…see, I'd tell you how old she is, but she doesn't appreciate stalkers having information, and I respect the birthday girl's wishes. Everyone go read her amazing story!!! As a birthday present if nothing else, though I hope you would all be genuinely interested…She's under my Favorite Authors on my profile…

Disclaimer – If I owned any of these characters, the Death Eaters would have their own plushies, candy and perfume, and Harry would make better use of time-turners. I would also be able to come up with a new disclaimer.

"ABRAKADAMMIT" was used by Greg Porter in his fic titled "Harry Potter and the Urges of Firey Goblets". Kudos to him, sorry I didn't ask permission to borrow it…If you have a huge problem with it, let me know and I will edit it out.

Chapter Three – Failure

Draco had been warned just before Severus sent him off to bed to keep his mind off their plans. Though he didn't make use of the skills constantly, Voldemort was a gifted legilimens, and was bound to check everyone daily.

Draco, knowing only the very basics of Occlumency, pushed his escape plans to the back of his mind, leaving him free to think on the very fact he had been avoiding acknowledging. Father is dead.

Draco did not feel sad. He felt guilty, but not for Lucius's death. He felt guilty for not feeling sad. He was his father, for God's sake, but not really. Lucius had never been a father to Draco. Draco almost smirked at the thought that Lucius was dead, but he caught himself. He would have, if it weren't something he could have pictured Lucius doing.

There had been a time, once, when Draco was little, and Lucius had shown compassion. It was the day Draco was getting his second wand—he must've been 7 at the time—and they were in Ollivander's shop.

"No, I said Hawthorn." Draco remembered Lucius throwing down the chestnut wand he had been presented with. "I think I know my own son well enough to know that he needs a springy wand. Hawthorn should do fine! Chestnut, on the other hand, is stiff and unyielding."

"E-Excuse me sir." Ollivander had eventually presented them with a wand Lucius deemed acceptable, but Draco didn't remember much else.

Draco looked at his father with wonder. That one time, one time, was the only time Lucius had ever seemed remotely proud to be related to Draco. "I think I know my own son."

I could go into more elaboration over the relationship of the two, but I have a feeling, as authors do, that you get the point. I'd sincerely hate for this to become sentimental drivel.

Draco, desperate for a "safe" topic, thought about his mother, Narcissa, whom he had noticed Voldemort had taken a liking to.

After Lucius had left his spot at Voldemort's side open at the conference table, Voldemort had insisted that Narcissa sit down, even though she wasn't a Death Eater.

Voldemort always called her with Severus for advice (though they were really just Yes-Men), and sometimes Draco thought he actually valued her opinion.

Worst of all, Draco was sick to see desperation in the Dark Lord for her. He could see that Voldemort tried so hard to impress her, and that was the scariest thought of all.

He fell asleep that night worrying about her, with the excitement that would be arriving in two days' time lurking in the back of his mind.

---

Voldemort, as predictable as Severus had said he would be, sat down in his study that night, and dropped one by one in the minds of each of the house's inhabitants, like a twisted, demented cross between Queen Mab and Big Brother: Big Mab, or Queen Brother. He checked his favorites first, not knowing the value of saving the best for last, as many children don't.

Narcissa was thinking fondly of her son. Her passion was so overwhelming that Voldemort couldn't get any more details from her mind. He sneered in disgust—and jealousy—and moved on.

Severus's mind was arrantly blank, as always. It set Voldemort on edge to have a skilled Occlumency user in his ranks, and every so often he put the effort forth to break through, but loss of the amount of energy it took made it hard to check the rest of the resident Death Eaters. Tonight, he skipped over Severus, and moved on to Draco.

Draco's mind was jumbled, mostly with his parents, as would be expected, as he had just lost his father. Voldemort found the boy much easier to unravel. First, just his basic emotions: guilt, hatred, love, worry, excitement.

Voldemort, with the glee of being able to tear Draco's mind apart with such ease, analyzed each emotion individually. The boy felt guilt for not mourning Lucius. Having read too far into it, this bothered Voldemort. If Draco didn't support Lucius that must mean that he doesn't support me... Voldemort's paranoia made it hard for him to let it go and move on to the other matters.

Draco also hated Lucius for his malicious nature, and for not being a father. Voldemort disagreed. Lucius had been a proper father; he had raised Draco better than Narcissa ever could have. During the short period of reform after Voldemort put Draco under Lucius's teachings, Draco had shown promise. With Lucius's death, the boy had gone downhill.

Draco was worried about Narcissa, and acknowledged the fact that Voldemort had an interest in her. Well, as far as Voldemort was could see, it was none of his business. Narcissa was his Death Eater, and she would remain loyal to him, blood ties or no. The love Draco felt for her was merely because he had been brought up to think that love was required by a mother. No, Voldemort was sure that loyalty was the important thing, and, knowing his instinct was right, he stood by his gut. After all, it had gotten him this far, right?

And finally the boy's excitement. It was faint, barely there, but Voldemort saw it, and he got curious. The curiosity gave him determination, and he dug deeper for the details. He pushed past the snippits about Lucius and Narcissa, and caught vague annotations on the broad emotion of excitement.

Then he reached the core. Narcissa, Draco and Severus were leaving, and Draco was excited. Draco wanted to leave. Voldemort jerked away from the legilimency with anger, and growled.

He stood to leave, kicked his desk chair, and slammed his fist down, but stopped as soon as he turned around and saw the wand of a darkly cloaked figure raised to his neck.

---

Draco woke nearly right after he had fallen asleep to a nagging in his mind. The presence was bitter, and its need to know everything ripped his mind apart. He was careful not to let his mind's contents change a bit; it was easier now that he was conscious, and he sent for Severus with a folded crane.

He had his quill scrawl quickly,

Quick, the subject of our tutoring session is being examined.

And he sent it off. A few moments later he heard Severus's rushing steps on the stair case as he ran up from his dungeon room. When Draco heard the door fly open a floor up, he knew it was safe to let the fear enter his thoughts.

Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Draco curled up under his covers, as though he could escape the killing curse he was sure was coming. He's going to kill us, me, and Mother, and Severus. Voldemort knows. He's going to kill us. All of the times Draco had seen the killing curse performed ran through his head. The green light, the screams, and his eyes closing, himself shaking with fear.

Yes, Draco was practically an adult; he was 17, but you must realize his situation. He had been caught planning betrayal to the deadliest wizard in Europe, who was just upstairs. Scenarios flew through his mind in which Voldemort caught him and killed him in various ways, and all Draco could do was curl up in his bed, and wait for the moment to pass.

He slowly calmed himself, got up and started packing. Quickly but quietly he threw the necessities (wand, books, clothes) into a bottomless trunk, grabbed his broom as an afterthought, his hand shaking the entire time. He snapped the clasps shut on the trunk, took a deep breath, and pressed his ear to the door, trying to tell if it was safe to leave his room.

In all actuality almost anything, except running into Voldemort's arms, of course, would have been safer than staying in his room. Voldemort could have been coming down the hallway at that very moment, knowing that the boy was standing, awaiting his fate, just behind that door. Draco, being logical, realized this and left, turning away from the staircase where Voldemort would be coming down, and towards his mother's room.

Draco's caution was practical, but unnecessary. Severus, though just being a spy, working for his own benefits, caught his alleged master just in time to over power him.

---

"Ah, Severus," Voldemort drew his wand maliciously, "Thank you for coming; it saves me the trouble of finding you." He lunged, "ABRAKADAMMIT!" Yes, Voldemort was that flustered. The Dark Lord was easily incensed, and he had only been this angry once before. As he had just demonstrated to the now confident Potions Master, pure anger makes incantations difficult.

His embarrassing mistake only caused him to become more flustered, and clumsier. Severus smirked, as he always kept his cool, and took the opportunity to attack.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Severus had known the Killing Curse wouldn't kill him. Voldemort still had five horcruxes left, but it would put him off for long enough, plenty long even. Last time it had taken him thirteen years to get back on his feet.

Severus knew that the rest of the Death Eaters would be waking from all the noise, so he ran off to Narcissa's room, where he knew Draco would be. The boy certainly had been loud enough escaping.

---

Draco stumbled down the hallway, not worrying about stealth, just focusing on getting to his mother before Voldemort did. He pushed the door open, fell inside, sunk to his knees, and got out her trunk.

"Draco, darling?" Narcissa shot up in her bed. She somehow knew that there was no time for her to be sleepy; it was a mother's instinct. "Draco darling, what is it?" She got up and helped him toss clothes and money into the suitcase, still waiting for his explanation.

"It's him," Draco snarled as he slammed the suitcase shut. He stood up and offered his mother a hand. "Voldemort found out."

"Shh!" Narcissa frowned at Draco's facility to speak the name so easily, but took his hand. They both started towards the door, but stopped as it flew open.

Narcissa screamed and flung her arms up. Draco's hand flew to his wand.

"Would you two shut up?" Severus flipped his hair out of his face. "Get your stuff; we're leaving."

Their foot steps must have echoed in the high-ceilinged hallways, because they were met by two Death Eaters in the foyer. Worthington and Bellatrix each smirked, and raised their wands.

"My Lord!" Worthington shouted up the staircase, not taking his eyes off the three. "We found them, My Lord! Let us kill them, oh please! I want to kill them for you, Master!"

Bellatrix didn't intend to wait for Voldemort's permission. She attacked, and Severus threw himself at Narcissa, who in turn fell on top of Draco, knocking all three into safety.

"Stupify!" Draco shot the hex at his aunt from his position on the floor. His dead-center aim resulted in success, but also in Worthington's anger.

"My lord, forgive my effrontery." He aimed his wand at Draco. "Incendio!"

"Augamenti!" Narcissa desperately shot forth, and after the stream of fire was satiated, she hugged Draco fiercely.

"Narcissa," Severus blocked a few more shots from Worthington. "Get up!"

Narcissa and Draco both obeyed, and joined in the fight. Ending with the final "Defodio" of a Gouging Spell from Severus, the three overpowered Worthington fairly easily.

Narcissa once again embraced her son, and Severus knelt beside them, a hand on Narcissa's shoulder. More gently this time, he whispered, "Get up, Narcissa. We have to go now."

They gathered their trunks and walked out the front door, aiming for the boundary of the Malfoy land, where the charms and spells ended, and they could apparate away. Draco watched his feet. One foot, oh, and there was his left. His mind was so weary that he didn't register that he was seeing the same sight over and over, until he stumbled once. His mind wrapped around the sight of one foot passing in front of the other. One foot, oh, and there was his left.

---

A/N – Wow…I did it. I really did. It took me four freaking hours, but I made it past 2000 words. 2032, 2381 including the A/Ns, Dedication, and Disclaimer. Should I shoot for 3000 next time? It was really rather tense and Draco-filled, no? I liked it. Wait, who wrote this? Oh yea…that was me…

- - - a n a g u m a…

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