Note: Only one chapter this week I'm afraid – I have been a bit busy with Christmas and everything, but I didn't want to miss another week. Anyway, I hope everyone isn't too stuffed with roast potatoes to enjoy the chapter. *Goes off into a roast potato fantasy.*

Chapter Nineteen

Two Strikes

The Dark Lord was angry; the extremely calm and collected sort of anger that was all the more frightening to its intended recipients. Severus was not quite sure yet if he was included among their number. He had never held as much fear of the Dark Lord when the man was shouting and cursing in his anger. Like with anyone else subject to human wrath, when it took over in such a fashion, it meant that the sufferer was more than likely thinking with the heart rather than the head, and as such the anger was almost haphazard and therefore less dangerous. This cold silence, on the other hand, meant that the Dark Lord was most definitely thinking with his head, and Severus was certain that the outcome of the thought process would not be a pleasant one for whoever the anger was directed against. He was circling the table, pausing behind each chair in turn, and it took every ounce of his self-control not for Severus to flinch when he felt cold breath down the back of his neck. His associates were not quite so able; Draco had already hidden his shaking hands under the table but that could not mask the utter terror in his face.

Finally the Dark Lord stopped his pacing and stood behind his place at the head of the table.

"I think I speak for everyone present when I say that last night's fiasco was at best embarrassing and at worst a woeful demonstration of a plague that appears to have been affecting our ranks for some time now. Miscommunication." The enunciation of the last word could have cut glass. "Let us take, for example, Mr Yaxley."

Severus's eyes automatically flickered to his pseudo-rival, who was now seated in Severus's old place on the left side of the table. He had taken their switched positions to be a sign in his favour, but one could never tell with a madman. Someone who was defined by unpredictability was in their very nature impossible to second guess. Whilst over the years Severus had become something of an expert in interpreting the Dark Lord's actions and emotions, even he could be derailed unexpectedly.

"Mr Yaxley," the Dark Lord continued, moving once more to circle the table, his ruby eyes never leaving his quarry, "had informed us that the Aurors, and then by default the Order, were unaware of Weasley's whereabouts. We know now, to our great cost, that this was not the case."

"My Lord," Yaxley began, desperate to defend himself, but his voice soon failed him under his master's unwavering stare.

"I know, Yaxley, I know, you did indeed express your reservations, which is commendable."

Yaxley looked extremely relieved.

"However, in future, we would rather work off hard, solid facts than speculation. Severus!"

The address had come so sharply and unexpectedly that Severus started.

"My Lord," he said at last, covering his moment of unease with as smooth a tone as he could manage.

"It is of paramount importance that you reingratiate yourself with McGonagall and the Order as soon as possible. Since it is evident that our other sources…" here he sent a particularly venomous glare in Yaxley's direction "… are dangerously inadequate, a trustworthy informer is required with a matter of urgency. Use any means necessary but…"

The Dark Lord broke off and looked sharply in the direction of the drawing room door, as if he had heard a sudden noise inaudible to all but him.

"I believe we have an uninvited guest. Rodolphus, if you could take care of the interloper?"

Rodolphus left the table and disappeared into the darkness beyond the door. A moment later he returned, holding Narcissa's arms behind her back in a vice grip as she struggled violently but ultimately fruitlessly against him.

"Let go of me," she growled, but her words fell on deaf ears.

"Madame," said the Dark Lord, his voice carrying a worrying note of anticipation. "How nice of you to join us. I do hope that you will find our meeting instructive, given how desperate you were to attend it. Where was I? Ah yes. Miscommunication."

He continued to pace, finally stopping behind Draco, and one by one, his pale, bony fingers closed over the back of the boy's chair.

"Draco…" he began softly, bending down so that he was level with the boy's ear, barely an inch separating them, "… is a prime example of this terrible miscommunication. As you all know, we left the care of this venerable old building in Draco's capable hands last night, and as you all know, a small cohort of Order members managed to gain entry. When Draco found himself outnumbered by this cohort, one would think that his first reaction would be to call for his comrades for assistance. Unfortunately this was not Draco's first reaction. Draco's first reaction was to call for his mother."

Cruel laughter echoed around the table, and Severus glanced over at Narcissa. She had given up her useless struggle, standing limp and defeated in Rodolphus's grip, her sorrowful gaze fixed upon her son. Severus looked at Rodolphus, the war going on behind the man's eyes as clear as day. Rodolphus the Death Eater was waging a pitched battle against Rodolphus the brother-in-law, and it was impossible to tell which side of the man's splintered personality was winning.

Presently the Dark Lord moved away from Draco's chair, apparently changing the subject in a fingersnap, but Severus was not fooled by the sudden switch. The Malfoys' torment was not yet over.

"Potter was here last night. You failed to apprehend him. Fortunately, this is not such a gross catastrophe as it could have been, as it has allowed me more time to conduct a ritual that has been waiting to be done for some time now. As you are no doubt aware, as some of you have indeed witnessed, Potter's wand and mine share a core connection. Neither can kill whilst the other is still in possession of the phoenix wand."

Severus knew what was going to happen next, and he knew the chain of events that it would catalyse. His eyes flickered to Narcissa, a silent warning against doing anything rash.

"Draco," said the Dark Lord, coming to a stop behind the youngest of their corps once more. "Since you proved so woefully incapable of putting your wand to any sort of good use last night, I see no reason for you to keep hold of it."

Draco looked as if he was about to faint. All the blood had drained from his face, leaving him looking a corpse-like grey colour.

"My-my wand?" he managed to squeak out.

The Dark Lord held out a hand.

"I think it deserves a master who will put it to more noble use than its current one, don't you agree?"

Draco made no move, and the Dark Lord hissed in his ear with undisguised venom.

"Mummy can't help you know, Draco…"

There was silence in the room, broken only by Narcissa's muffled sobs. Severus glanced across the table and saw that Rodolphus the Death Eater had lost the fight, and he was accepting his sister-in-law's tears into his shoulder without a thought for the derisive stare from his wife that such an action was earning him.

Suddenly another sound broke through the silence, an unexpected one that made Severus turn his attention sharply back to the table. It was the sound of a chair being pushed back and a wand drawn out.

"My Lord."

Lucius had stood, and he was pointing his wand towards the Dark Lord.

"Lucius, what are you doing?"

"I am offering you my wand instead of Draco's." There was the slightest quaver of fear in his voice. Severus closed his eyes. He did not want to see this, any of it, and he wished, not for the first time, that covering his ears would not be so conspicuous. He wanted to get out of the room that was suddenly suffocating with its fraught tension.

"You would be prepared to take responsibility for Draco's failings?"

"If I had taught my son better, perhaps he would not have such failings."

There was silence for an inordinately long time, and Severus was forced to open his eyes to check that he had not fallen asleep or been rendered deaf by some miracle. The Dark Lord was now holding Lucius's wand, turning it this way and that in the light and studying it carefully. When he spoke again, his words were laced with a strange softness, almost a note of awe mingled with the evil anticipation. The most overwhelming emotion of all, however, was sweet triumph.

"I think that concludes our meeting for tonight, ladies and gentlemen. If you would be so kind as to leave us, I believe that Lucius and I have matters to discuss. Narcissa, as anxious as she is to learn of what goes on behind her doors, is, of course, welcome to join us."

It was an order, not a suggestion, and Severus felt an extreme and angering sense of helplessness. There was nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable. His comrades began to file out, unusually subdued, all of them knowing the course that the 'conversation' would take. Draco remained where he was, seemingly frozen in place until his father hauled him up by the collar and virtually threw him out of the room. As they passed in the doorway, Lucius gave Severus a barely perceptible shrug.

"What else could I do?" he hissed, and with that, the door swung closed in Severus's face. He stayed staring at the wood for a few moments, before a voice pulled him back.

"You think you're back on the right side, Severus…"

Yaxley came into his line of sight, his face twisted into an ugly expression that was part way between a scowl and a sneer.

"You think you're safely on the right side of the table but I'm watching you…"

Severus ignored Yaxley as he continued to speak, piling veiled threats upon veiled threats. The inevitable cursing had begun from the within the other room, and Severus could not try to shut out one sound without shutting out them all. He could see Yaxley's mouth moving, but he couldn't tell what the man was saying, nor did he, at that moment, give a damn.

Sound came back to his ears with a particularly loud thud from the drawing room, followed by Narcissa's voice.

"Stop it!" she was screaming, her words thick and choked with unchecked raw emotion. "Stop it! You're killing him!"

Severus did not like to think of what the consequences of Narcissa's intervention would be. The room went eerily quiet, the silence broken only by ragged panting and slow, pointed footsteps. Yaxley took this chance to give Severus a final sneer and melt away into the shadows.

"Would you prefer to take it instead, Madame?"asked the Dark Lord in a voice that in any other circumstances, coming from any other mouth, might have been pleasant.

Severus felt an iron-clad grip curled round his upper arm. He turned to find himself face to face with Draco.

"Do something," he mouthed, pleading with his teacher. "Please…"

Severus just looked at the boy, making no reaction. There was nothing he could do, and he needed to get back to Hogwarts and Minerva. He had had to cut short their rendezvous on the bridge unexpectedly, and she would be worried about.

There was a thump from the drawing room, the sound of a body hitting parquet, and the tiniest female whimper.

"No," growled Lucius's voice weakly. Draco broke eye contact with his professor and glanced towards the door, his grip becoming ever tighter. Severus wished that there was something he could do to alleviate the boy's anguish if nothing else.

"Your chivalry is admirable Lucius, but not a quality which we seek to encourage."

Severus forcibly dragged Draco away from the drawing room door as the relentless cursing began once more.

"Draco, I must leave," he said. Draco shook his head, and opened his mouth to say something but Severus glared at him and he closed it again. There was to be no negotiating. He took a deep breath. "There is nothing I can do. Whatever the outcome of your father's decisions might be, never let it be said that he does not know what he is doing. Right now, he is trying to protect you and your mother. If you do not let him, all that he has gone through will be in vain."

The words were harsh, Severus knew, but they were true. Any intervention at this stage would only make things worse.

"I have to return to Hogwarts," he continued. "Floo Madame Rosier at Hope House. She will be able to help you when the time comes."

Draco nodded minutely. Neither he nor Severus wanted to think of the possibility that such a time might never come, that Narcissa's screamed words might come true. Draco detached his hold from Severus's arm and let the older man pass through the corridor. He did not want to leave, but it was necessary. Such was the burden of serving two masters, of belonging to two completely different sets of comrades. Within each group, one made alliances, friendships, and one felt duty bound to honour those through to the end. But when the interests of one clashed with the interests of the other… It was then that Severus truly felt the strain of being a double agent. He liked to balance things out in his mind, a mental justification that almost, if he believed it hard enough, helped him believe that he was a neutral third party, allied to no-one but himself. It never worked truly, but in such times, doing what he did, it was as good a coping mechanism as any. He would not have survived as long as he had in this dangerous game had he not followed this particular way of thinking.

Ignoring the sounds from the drawing room, Severus left the house, disapparating as soon as he was beyond the boundaries of the Manor's protections.

Minerva was pacing up and down the head's office when he entered, and her surprise on seeing him was almost palpable.

"Oh Severus, you're alright! Are you?" she added hastily. He nodded.

"I believe I passed my test satisfactorily," he said drily. "So I felt no fear in returning to the castle now that I appear to have regained the Dark Lord's trust on these matters. It appears that in the wake of the incidents of last night, he seems to value my information more than his other, less reliable sources." He shook his head and gratefully sank into the chair that Minerva offered, suddenly feeling both very tired from his latest assignments and very aware of his surroundings. "But this was not really my test."

"Let me guess. Draco Malfoy?"

Severus nodded as Minerva sat down in her own chair, Dumbledore's chair, the chair that she had never felt and still did not feel comfortable sitting in. For a brief moment, he wondered why she had not replaced it, but then he felt that perhaps Dumbledore had had some influence on that decision.

"We are going to have to watch him very closely this coming year, Minerva. If Dumbledore and I thought he was desperate before, that's nothing compared to how he is now. He came within a hair's breadth of being de-wanded tonight."

Minerva did not reply, resting her chin on her hands and staring out of the window for a long time. Severus knew what she was thinking. There were so many students under her care, and she could not hope to protect all of them all of the time, but if Severus knew Minerva, he knew that she was damn well going to try.

Note2: I'm a bit worried about the lack of Minerva in recent and coming chapters – Minerva fans, please do not desert me! This story comes round in cycles, and she does not have a major role in the current one, but we will be back with her soon. After all, there is still a lot of book to come!