Sorry, it's taken me so long to update. Thanks so much for being so patient with me. Hope that you enjoy it, promise there will be plenty more Draco and Hermione moments :). Also, a warning, looking at what I've got planned with this story, it's going to be really long, so be warned! :D Hope you enjoy the chapter and once again thanks for all your follows and reviews. :)

Draco's heart felt like it was trying to jump out of his chest and make its merry way back to Granger, where kissing would ensue regardless of the Weaselette. While he did, in fact, realise that his actions could be considered the complete opposite of what had been advised over and over, he really couldn't seem to find a single ounce of care within in. He'd been about to kiss her again and she'd looked like she wanted it; leaning forward, her eyes glassy and half-lidded in the most tempting way.

Merlin, he was making life hard for himself. Bad enough that he wanted her as bad as he did, now he was full of delusions of her wanting him back, and by Salazar, they were fantastic delusions. Like all the magical holidays come at once. He couldn't get his head around the fact that she had called him back, not the other way around. He wasn't on his knees begging her to give him the time of day, he'd been about to sink into some comfortable dreams about Granger and what might be hiding under her robes when she'd called his name. She'd stepped toward him like some magical force was gently nudging her. He'd been holding her face, drawing her closer and she'd smelt like strawberries and now, he was pretty sure that smell was all he needed to breathe. Oxygen? Who needed that?

"Draco." He could have cried when Pansy's voice echoed down the corridor, the small brunette striding towards him with purpose, a rather bored looking Blaise trailing behind her.

"Ah Pans, I wondered when you were going to show up. You're about five minutes past things just getting interesting, should have been more specific when reporting my nightly activities to you." He held up his hands as he shrugged, his innocent smile wavering slightly when Pansy didn't look angry, only mildly worried.

"Snape is looking for you." Her voice simply reeled of the information, reporting the mundane with no hint of the worry and concern shimmering in her eyes.

Why wouldn't Snape be looking for him? It wasn't entirely unheard of for Snape to simply drop by unannounced and ask to see a student who would later return to his or her friend somewhat paler than when they left. He'd given up on Crabbe and Goyle however, the boys didn't frighten easy and when they did they simply consumed more, their grades remained piteously low.

Draco fought a small smile as he looked down at his friend, her brows slightly dipped in concern. Pansy could be a hard ass, could annoy the hell out of him, but, Merlin, the witch cared more than any Slytherin he'd ever met. Of course, if he ever paid her that compliment, she'd snort derisively and tell him that it was only her own, only the Slytherins. Draco felt incredibly blessed to be considered as one of Pansy's own.

"You know, I'm sure we could have waited till he got back to tell him that," Blaise commented drily, nodding once to Draco in greeting, while Pansy stepped forward and hugged Draco tightly.

"Snape said it was urgent."

"Did he?" Blaise looked confused, staring at the stones beneath his feet as if they held some unfathomable riddle that he just couldn't seem to wrap his head around. His mouth formed the shapes of words, but no sound came out, mouthing his way through a conversation that he didn't seem to want to share with the rest of them.

"Are you sure? Because I swear he…"

"He did okay? Now leave it." Pansy snapped, and Blaise narrowed his eyes.

"Well, sod this, I didn't traipse out here to risk getting caught by Filch, to get yelled at."

"You wouldn't have got caught, you'd have been with me," Pansy said, but her voice sounded defeated as Blaise turned on his heal and stormed away from them.

"You know, I should deduct points for you being out," Draco called and chuckled when Blaise didn't even turn but lifted his middle finger as he disappeared around the corner.

"Gah, I feel bad for yelling at him." Pansy sighed.

"So you should, the poor guy did nothing. If anything, he kept you company on your little excursion…again." It hadn't fallen past most people's notice that Blaise, while being womanizer extraordinaire and Slytherin to the point of not caring, always found time for Pansy Parkinson. Always.

"It's your fault." Pansy admonished, her pug nose twitching just the slightest bit. He imagined that other guys might have found the action vaguely cute.

"Yeah, awfully sorry about that, my wand slipped and I accidentally Imperiused you, ah well…" he shrugged, "it happens." Pansy raised her eyebrows at his sarcasm.

"We couldn't have him figuring anything out, asking questions."

"No, that would be unusually Pansy-like for him."

"It's okay, you don't have to thank me, just looking out for your well-being, but whatever…"

"Oh wow, I can almost hear the violins. Particularly sad and woeful number that, what's it called? Woe is me?" He chuckled as Pansy hit him, doing his best not to wince. Pansy did not understand the concept of hitting anything lightly.

"How was it?" she asked, her smile dropping, and Draco tried his best to quickly hide the tell-tale signs of nearly kissing Granger, that he was sure Pansy-sniff-out-a-lie-Parkinson could see.

"Fine." He shrugged casually, wincing when her eyes narrowed. Casual had not been the way to go.

"In what way?"

"In the, I was walking around the castle and didn't happen to run into Peeves, kind of way."

"Hmm." She was inspecting him, leaning closer and taking in all the twitches and flickers of emotion on his face and somehow translating them.

"You saw her didn't you." It wasn't a question, she knew. There was a certainty in her eyes and Draco had a sneaky suspicion she'd known before his poor attempt at lying. Amongst others he was a wizard of believable untruths, waxing lyrical the most heinously fabricated stories and leaving people certain that they were 100% truthful. But Pansy, Pansy was sharp and watched and spent her many Hogwarts years compiling a tome of all Slytherin tells. No one could realistically lie to Pansy and get away with it. She would find out one way or another.

"Might have caught a glimpse." He attempted and watched as Pansy's eyes widened.

"Oh Merlin, you kissed her, again didn't you?"

"What, how in Merlin's name did you get that from what I said? No, no I didn't." Pansy did not seem convinced, raising her one eyebrow just like he would have done, and it infuriated him. For some strange reason though, he kept talking, his mouth running away with him.

"Would have done though, if Weaselette hadn't shown up."

"The ginger saw you?" Pansy looked as though she were about to burst.

"Now that's just hairiest." He tutted, wagging his finger in her face.

"Draco, the Weaselette saw you, what's to stop her from telling other people. Blabbing it all round Gryffindor and then the whole school." For a moment Draco was filled with a strange kind of dread, he hadn't thought of that at all. He'd been too busy overloading his senses with Granger to even care that her red-headed friend would tell anyone. With uncertainty, he met Pansy's stare.

"I don't think she knew what was going on." Pansy laughed humourlessly.

"Right, of course. Have you seen how many guys she's locked lips with?"

"No." Draco drew back somewhat disgusted, also confused as to how Pansy had managed to get hold of the information.

"A fair few, you know considering who she is. I think she knows what two people about to kiss looks like."

"Really, a fair few?" Draco uttered shaking his head slightly, she wasn't the back end of a Skrewt by any stretch, but a Weasley? He couldn't quite wrap his head around the attraction.

"She does alright if you can believe it."

"Hah." He crossed his arms, his face matching the sound of disbelief that left his mouth. It seemed that even those in Gryffindor, the whole desperate-to-be-martyrs lot of them were getting to pucker up with who they wanted. The thought of it really rather sucked. Pansy began to pace, hunching her shoulders and muttering under breath.

"Stop pacing." He commanded, grabbing Pansy's shoulders and making her look up at him. "I'm pretty sure that Granger can do some damage control, she's good like that." He smiled slightly at the thought of her; finger jammed in someone's face, hand on hip, her eyes becoming lit with certainty, all bright brown and bloodie beautiful. She'd look fantastic and he weirdly found himself wishing he was the one getting put in place, it was facepalm worthy, but he couldn't help it.

"Oh Ewww, stop it, stop it now."

"What?" Draco stepped back with a shrug, eyes widening in innocence.

"Whatever disgusting thing you're thinking about Granger, stop it now."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Seriously, Draco. I worry about you."

After a brief moment, she sighed, turning to walk back to their common room. It was late, approaching midnight and even they as prefects would have a difficult time explaining why they were having a conversation in the middle of the corridor. Pansy couldn't help but shake her head as she heard Draco follow her slowly. She had been expecting this, expecting some wavering towards the Mudblood since the start of the term, admittedly she'd expected it to take a little longer. Pansy blamed his father, it was obvious to whoever paid the slightest bit of attention that Lucius Malfoy had very little in the form of emotional care for his son, which meant that there was overcompensation galore. Draco Malfoy had wanted for absolutely nothing; if he saw it, by the end of the day it would be his. He didn't even have to particularly kick or scream all that much, just meet his mother's gaze and she'd see something, something like sadness and hurt and all the guilt would kick in. It was down to the hateful love that got packaged in the form of Theo and Blaise that had all but kicked the brat out of him. There were still moments, but they were incredibly rare. Wanting Granger, the way he did though, and not being able to have her, she guessed must be killing him. Backing out was an expectation but his next words made her chest tighten with panic.

"Maybe I should, you know, give the whole thing up with Greengrass. I mean, Pans, me and Granger it kind of feels…" He paused, wringing his hands together as he walked, not meeting her gaze.

"Kind of feels what?" She asked, her voice steely, not sure that she wanted to hear the rest of the sentence at all.

"Inevitable." He shrugged, finally looking at her, his hands digging into his pockets and Pansy got a little view of him without his aristocratic mask; tired worn beaten and still clinging onto the hope that he would give up his charade and he and Granger would fly off into the sunset with matching broomsticks.

"There is nothing inevitable about you and Granger. Unbelievable, out of absolutely nowhere, yes. But inevitable?" She let out a breathy laugh "I don't think so."

"You don't know that." Pansy faltered, looking up at Draco with shock. He had said it so seriously and with such authority, his usual mask in place but his eyes a steely grey that made her gulp.

"But you're…" He gestured to him, struggling to find the word, "You're…you're a Slytherin and she's…"

"She's what?" Draco crossed his arms.

"She's a Gryffindor," Pansy said in exasperation as if that explanation had been obvious as if it could be the only reason for anything.

"Right, so the house I get sorted into in school pre-ordains the rest of my life and relationships? Makes complete sense." He was pretty sure that Hermione had thrown a similar argument in his face and the fact that he was reusing it threatened to make him both smile and grimace. There she was in everything, putting her stamp on even his conversations, magically changing his viewpoints with the same ease as magically changing the colour of his hair.

"It doesn't make sense, but it's true." Pansy countered, gazing at one the tapestries that hung heavily on the wall, realising all at once that her argument was far truer than she wanted it to be because it was already happening all around them.

She knew the views of her friend's parents, heck she knew the views of her own parents and knew that a good number of them would ask 'how many' when the Dark Lord asked them to zap their merry way through Muggles and Mudbloods. The fact that they were all clubbed together seemed somewhat of an oversight. Blaise; with his overbearing mom who worked her way through marriages faster than anyone could say 'till death do us part'. Theo, with his strict and muggle hating parents, who almost put Draco's parents to shame with their overzealous views towards mass extinction. There had been many an evening spent at Theo's watching Mr Knott get steadily drunk and begin to outline his plans for the total destruction of the Muggle Race. His violent gesticulations would sometimes wallop their way across Theo's face 'accidentally' and they would all have to rush to the fireplace, Theo's cheeks burning with embarrassment as he bid them all his usual 'adieu. Crabbe and Goyle, with the Mother's of all feeders, giving them sweeties instead of attention because that was just easier.

Oh, they were all there, some worse than others, the abuse of failed dominion over all of Magical kind patterning their skin in silvery discolouration's. One boy, older than her by a year, had held a little celebration as his father was dragged to Azkaban for finally giving up and killing his wife. When asked about sadness for his dearly deceased, he could only answer with half a grin, half a sneer, that she had been an evil bitch too.

Pansy figured it was easier to shove them all to the side than have to actually deal with the mess they created, what with the cunning and manipulative streak than most of them possessed simply because that's how they'd learnt to survive. Picking on and bullying others because for once in their miserable lives they felt powerful, felt like they were making an impact and putting the fear that had constantly pumped through their veins into someone else. And it felt, well it felt good. It was partly jealously too, jealousy that burned fiercely within them, a jealously they would never, for the life of them, admit. The Golden Gryffindors, the Puffy Hufflepuffs, the Regular little genius' in Ravenclaw, they wanted to be like them, to be one of them. The normal, the bright. She knew because she often wished it too, same faraway look in her eyes as she looked at the other houses sat down to eat, and noticed how wonderfully happy they all seemed, how wonderfully carefree. Then she'd tell herself so were they, shrug and go back to picking on one of the first years because it was funny and made her forget.

She had to admit that her parents were actually relatively normal, law of averages, there was bound to be at least one amongst them. They were just two magical people trying to navigate the ferocious world of the purebloods and somehow managing to fool most of them. Her parents were idiots but somehow, they were managing it and though they were not around very often when she finally went home for the holidays, they were not bad parents. They'd never laid a hand or spell on her ever.

Draco was looking at her as if he could see all that was going through her mind and the reality of it all was dawning on him. What choice did any of them have? A wounded animal hides, waits to die, waits to heal, shies away from the world and if ever it resurfaces, comes back a broken version of what it had been before. They had all been wounded and some continued to be and they'd built up their own little walls, made their own little hiding places, throwing insults and hate in order to keep everyone at bay. But Granger, she'd found a way in, at least where Draco was concerned, found a way in and was drawing him out of hiding. Pansy wondered how in Merlin's name she had done it.

"Draco, you know it's true." She reiterated with more certainty.

"It doesn't have to be."

"And what do you intend to do. Leave Greengrass? Run to Granger and confess all the wishy-washy feelings and hope she accepts?"

"Something like that." He muttered with a nod, her words seeming to confirm an idea he had already been formulating.

"That would not be a wise decision." A voice echoed around them making them both jump in terror.

Severus Snape seemed to materialise out of the darkness, the swish of his robes the only sound as he made his way towards them. Pansy saw Draco visibly gulp, anger and fear shimmering in his eyes making the strangest concoction of grey she had ever seen.

"Miss Parkinson, I believe it is time you were in bed." Pansy felt the usual swell of anger when someone told her what to do. She didn't get it from her parents, so she didn't see why she had to put up with it from witches and wizards that hardly knew her.

"But…"

"Another word and you will be scrubbing cauldrons in detention tomorrow evening."

"But…"

"I'll see you tomorrow Miss Parkinson, right after dinner."

Snape did not even bother to look in her direction once, his eyes trained on Draco. The gaze didn't even falter as she turned on her heel and stomped down the corridor.

"Quietly Miss Parkinson, or it will be two evenings."

Pansy paused, her body rigid with anger but she carried on her walk, this time with much quieter, lighter steps.

"You have been meeting Granger," Snape commented when Pansy had disappeared out of sight. It was not a question and Draco did not bother to utter anything in reply. "This will stop."

"But Prefect dut…"

"I will deal with the timetable," Snape said quickly.

"I want to see her." Draco's jaw was clenching so ferociously that the words barely made it out of his mouth, but Snape heard them his eyes widening an imperceptible amount.

"What you want and what is right are two very different things."

"How do you know?" He spat, sounding less and less like a petulant child and more like an adult. The change in the blonde was something of a surprise and it caught Snape almost unawares.

"Have you forgotten what I have shown you, it has happened before and if you carry on as you have been it will happen again." He didn't like to bring up the memory, didn't like to breathe any sort of reality into it, but it was important, he had to see the damage that could be done, the lives that could be ruined. In some ways, it was a relief to finally share the pain with someone, finally bare his soul in all honesty and show himself for what he truly was.

"So? So what if it's happened before? We could be different, we-we could change things." It was a feeble hope and they both knew it, but Draco found himself wanting to believe it. Maybe if he threw himself down before Dumbledore, before the powers that be, Merlin before Potty and pledged himself loyal to whatever cause let him be with Granger, maybe then they could send the Dark Lord scurrying back to whatever hole he'd crawled out of.

He felt a sting of guilt when he thought of his mother and surprisingly his father. They weren't evil, not to him, though his father, without a doubt gave it his best shot. They were just his parents, just his family, trying to do something right in their own warped way. He couldn't give them up, couldn't betray them and everything they stood for simply because he fancied a girl. Sure, she was a particularly rare and beautiful girl, but the point still stood.

"And what is it you would suggest, to change things?" Snape asked drily, but Draco thought he saw something that might have passed for hope flicker faintly in his eyes. Maybe Snape hoped that he, of all the people that had come before, had finally had an epiphany, a fate-changing epiphany that would make all their issues go away. Draco sighed and lowered his head, fate-changing epiphany he did not possess, only the deep aching longing for there to be something, anything that could magic their troubles away.

Snape turned commanding that Draco follow, and he did. With slumped shoulders and heavy footfalls, he followed the professor all the way to his office, having an inkling that it would be yet another lesson in staying away from Granger. But Snape didn't know how her hair smelt like strawberries, how her eyes were the deepest richest brown he'd ever seen and how, when she smiled at him everything in his life seemed that much brighter, that much better.

"You know, you keep looking like that your face will get stuck." Theo mocked, as he gazed at Blaise frowning furiously into the fire.

"Piss off, Knott, I'm not in the mood."

"Ooo, we are in for it now. Daphne, grab a seat you're about to witness something rarer than Malfoy admitting that he's wrong."

"What's that?" Daphne asked, smiling softly as she slipped into the seat beside Theo, their legs brushing for a moment making the brown-haired boy gulp.

"Beeny Boy mad." He casually placed his arm across the back of the chair and grinned at Daphne, enjoying the cheeky grin she gave him in return, the light dusting of blush on her cheeks.

"And that's rare?" She asked slowly, turning to take in the side of Blaise's head.

"The rarest, by buddy Beeny, has the patience of a saint, he has to, he's friends with me."

"I don't know, you're not that bad." Daphne demurred, and Theo laughed.

"Merlin, will you two shut the fuck up?" Blaise suddenly got up from his seat, hands clenching and unclenching, anger evident on his face.

"Mate, what's the matter." Theo was leaning back in his seat, his mouth opened slightly in shock.

"Nothing, just leave it."

"Oh, don't you start, we've had enough of that from Draco," Theo commented, ignoring the questioning glance from Daphne.

"I've had enough of hearing about that dick, okay, he's got his issues well so has everyone else." The rest of the Slytherins were turning to look at Blaise, whispers passed between them which Theo guessed were bets. It was a given that any possibility of a fight led to bets being placed. He'd won quite a few things due to such instances and one wonderful thing about his house was that they didn't bet low. Most from proud and noble families, they only had the best stuff, and being the brand of typically bored rich kid meant they didn't care if they lost it, in fact, that was half the fun.

"Woah, Blaise mate calm down." Theo stood up trying desperately to calm him, hands held out like he was trying to tame some new 'cute' animal Hagrid had thrown at them in care of magical creatures. Daphne was frowning up at Blaise as if suddenly realising she was on about her dearly beloved and therefore needed to be angry at him.

"Calm down? Calm the fuck down? Its always about him isn't it? Always. Ever second of every fucking day, Malfoy this, Malfoy that, we need to help Malfoy." Blaise mocked, and Theo paused because he suddenly realised that Blaise was on about Pansy.

"Mate are you…"

"Just leave it, I'm going to bed." Blaise walked off, stalking up the stairs his head lowered. Theo watched him go mildly confused, there seemed to be a lot of things going on with his friends that he didn't understand; Pansy's desperate obsession with keeping an eye on Draco, Draco's disappearing acts and now Blaise and his moods. He turned quickly as Pansy stepped through the door, her face like thunder.

"What's wrong with you?" He said almost absently, a clueless blinking expression on his face.

"Snape." She snapped, falling into the seat next to Daphne.

"Draco not with you?" The blonde asked peering at the door before turning questioningly to look at Pansy.

"He's with Snape, think he'll be back later."

"What's so important that he needs to talk to Draco now?" Theo asked, standing in front of the fire, letting it warm the backs of his legs. He shifted away uncomfortably when the stance reminded him of one his father liked to take when he began his tirades.

"Beats me." Pansy shrugged, glancing around the room at the other Slytherins, frowning as she saw their curious glances and the absence of one particular Slytherin. "Where's Blaise?"

"Well, Beany boy came back in a mood and then stomped off to bed, missed him by a few seconds."

Pansy groaned, her head sinking into her hands.

"I'll talk to him." She muttered, rising from the chair, and heading towards the stairs.

"What's this about?" Daphne muttered to Theo, leaning forward in the chair.

"That, Greengrass my dear, is the question." Daphne smiled at him and he found himself smiling back, sucking in a breath. He wanted to feel bad that Draco's girlfriend liked to spend time with him, that she smiled at him, laughed with him and that it made him feel slightly giddy, but he simply couldn't.

The room was dark and murky, smoke cloying the air in thick tendrils that made it impossible to see more a few feet in front of his face, the finer details of the room marred by the haze. Draco blinked several times, his eyes struggling to adjust to the dimness, Snape's office wasn't exactly the brightest of places, but the may as well have been on the sun with the contrast between the two rooms. He thanked Merlin that he was viewing the memory through a Pensieve, meaning that the wonderful sting that would have no doubt accompanied the smoke didn't bother him. It was only an impression of the past, a past that Snape had experienced and not him.

"You know, I keep seeing all these memories, there'll be no room for my own." He muttered, tapping his forehead half-heartedly with one finger.

"Quiet." Snape hushed him quickly, gesturing for Draco to follow him as he walked further into the gloom. He stopped abruptly, and Draco squinted, just about making out the fuzzy outline of a figure standing at the ender of the room, shoulders hunched, the robe pulled around it a midnight black that put Snape's to shame.

A younger version of Snape stepped around Draco and he found himself glancing between the two versions as he'd done before. There was very little that had changed about the dark-haired wizard over the years, still looking just as sour and miserable as ever. There was something though, something different that Draco couldn't quite pinpoint, more than just age and time, something heavy and unfathomable, a deep kind of sadness that he couldn't begin to understand.

"Severus, come to give me news of betrayal no doubt." The voice was strong, commanding, the echo of it moving through the room, making the smoke seem to dissipate. The dark figure was a young man, authoritarian in the way he looked down his nose at Severus, pride in the set of his shoulders that Draco vaguely recognised from his father.

"Yes, my lord, they were running, but we found them." The man sniffed at the news, pulling his wand out the folds of his robe and twirling it between his long pale fingers.

"Is that...?" Snape did not turn to Draco but simply nodded his head, his lips pressed tightly together into a thin pale line.

Draco knew of Thomas Riddle, the man who had become unnameable, the very act of uttering it sending fear into the most witches and wizards hearts. Still, he had not expected him to look so normal, so nice.

"Where?" Riddle made his way down the dark steps that Draco found worryingly familiar.

"Not far from, Arden, my lord. They planned to seek refuge there before moving on. No doubt hoping to outmanoeuvre us."

The Dark Lord seemed to be seething, his handsome face marred by his anger, frozen in a scowl that made him look every bit as evil as people suggested. Draco took a step back, but Snape reached out and grasped his arm, shaking his head. He would see whatever this memory held, whether he wanted to or not, the thought made him gulp.

There were many things that Snape had seen and done that he no longer wished to remember and this memory, well it had been one of them. It had gathered layers upon layers of dust, unopened and unviewed in his cupboard. Now it was important, very likely all that stood between Draco and him doing something utterly idiotic that would eventually get him and a lot of people he cared about killed. Snape also realised that he needed to see it again, needed to remember all that had happened, drawing him back to why he did what he did, why he chose to shoulder the burdens that he carried.

"Bring them to me." Draco finally realised where they were as the smoke lessened even further and he was able to take in the portraits lining the wall. They were in the ballroom of his home, long before his mother had added the colour and vibrancy of her character; without it, the place was drab and rather boring, but it was unmistakable. The same Malfoy ancestors gazed down with their unimpressed stairs, eyes twinkling with years of hatred that had been passed down so long that no one remembered why, the same black stairs lead up to a large balcony that overlooked rolling fields and the ruins of Arden far off in the distance, or as Draco knew it, Masarvas Manor; it was all the same.

"This is my home."

"Malfoy Manor, yes," Snape commented, watching as his younger self-nodded at his orders and left the room in his usual sweeping manner. Fog seemed to roll in from all sides, blotting out the hall and Thomas Riddle and leaving them lost in a swirl of grey.

"What's causing that?" Draco muttered, glancing around him, wondering why he could no longer see the floor.

"I have no memory of this because I wasn't here." He answered, seeming unimpressed that Draco had not been able to work it out for himself.

"Makes sense." Draco shrugged, hiding his embarrassment by squinting out into the grey, imagining that he could still make out the outline of Thomas Riddle.

"Hmm, yes it does." Snape seemed amused but said little afterwards, waiting patiently for the return of his younger self. Snape knew what had happened outside of the room, stood within the memory it all came rushing back. He'd felt so wonderfully powerful back then, so feared and revered. The Dark Lord had trusted him, had entrusted him with so much, and he had shown how worthy and how valuable he was. It was strange looking into the darkness of himself again, seeing it having the same face but feeling as sickened by it rather than empowered.

There was a scream from within the fog and Snape fought against the want to flinch, noticing how Draco did it out the corner of his eyes, the blonde turning his head to search the grey for its origin. The smoke began to clear, and Draco watched as the younger Snape walked forward, a younger man walking rigidly beside him.

"Imperius," Snape uttered, noticing the question look on Draco's face, the news did not seem to surprise him, but he cast wary glances at his teacher.

"Matty, my old friend," Thomas Riddle opened his arms wide, his wand held between his fingers, pointing down towards the floor, "come, tell me of your travels."

The Imperiused man shook, his whole body seeming to convulse as he fought against the magic that bound him in place. A swift nod in Snape's direction had him forcing the man forward, his legs moving stiffly and of their own accord as the man himself tried desperately to move backwards, his head jerking with the effort.

"Always were so very strong-willed, so very difficult." Riddle tutted, laughing good-naturedly, walking towards him and flinging an arm over his shoulder.

"I did not think that it would ever come to this, my friend. We do after all go back such a long way." There was blood leaking from the man's nose, a vibrant red against the greyness of the man's face. Rags hung from him in strips of worn material, damp and muddied, remains of the robes Draco knew death eaters had worn, knew because his father had shown him with a pride that even now he couldn't quite understand.

"The rest of them?" He muttered casually, and Snape seemed to bow slightly.

"Lucius is bringing them, my lord."

At that precise moment, there was a wail, so much more haunting than the scream. It tore through Draco and made his hair stand on end, goosebumps riddling his skin. His father entered the room, two men either side of him, one holding onto a woman that kicked screamed and struggled, her teeth bared in a ferocious snarl as she tried desperately to get at the other man who was holding her child. She was only young, matted brown hair on her head, dirt on her cheeks only interrupted by the tracks her tears had cleared. Her blue eyes were wide and searching, looking around the hall for some sort of clue as to what was happening to them, then she reached for her mother, small hand grasping at air as she began to cry.

Draco shook his head in disbelief as his father remained unmoved by the woman's cries, unfazed by the small child reaching out for her mother, quite clearly petrified. He wondered how anything like that was possible, his father had never struck him as needlessly evil; a proud man, yes, set very much in his ways that were as ancient as they were stupid, undoubtedly, but evil?

"Crucio." Draco did not miss the boredom with which the spell was uttered, as if the Dark Lord were simply clearing up a spill or mending torn robes. The woman dropped to the floor, her back arching painfully a scream ripping through the ballroom, followed by the desperate cry of her child. Draco winced, turning away as he remembered the pain of the curse, the feeling of a thousand knives digging into his flesh and twisting as they were pulled out. Like his insides were being ripped apart by an unseen hand and he could do nothing to stop it. The spell ended abruptly, and the woman slumped back onto the floor, hair plastered across her face and body contorted strangely, her one hand twitching towards her daughter.

"Martha," she gasped as the child cried again, "Martha sweetie, it's okay, mommy's alright." The child did not seem convinced, wiggling in the man's arms and reaching her small arms out even further.

"Knott get that baby under control." His father hissed and the man beside him nodded, grasping the child's arms and holding them down by its side painfully,

"Knott? As in Theo's father?" Draco asked, turning to Snape in disbelief. The wizard looked tired, his face as pale as the man that stood beside the Dark Lord.

"There were a great many of us at the start."

"But how did you…how could you…" He couldn't find the right words, but Snape seemed to understand.

"Not everything the Dark Lord did is known."

"Crucio." Draco jumped as the mother once again writhed on the floor, it became apparent that she had once again tried to lift herself up to her child, crawling closer to Theodore's father. When the curse ended her face thudded painfully to the floor, her body no longer moving.

"Honestly, three of you and you can't even babysit a woman and a child. Now," He turned to the man at his side and smiled, the sight of it seeming more like a dragon that had just cornered it prey, than a friendly gesture, "Matty, tell me all about your little plot. I heard it's thrilling stuff."

"Fuck you." The man ground out, his voice hoarse.

Riddle seemed delighted by this response, laughing good-naturedly, his gaze searching his other minion to check that they were, in fact, laughing too. They quickly took the hint, their humourless guffaws echoing around the room, making Draco cringe. Only Snape, his younger self, remained unmoved, no hint of emotion showing on his face.

"Ah Severus, always so serious."

"Yes, my lord."

"You have my trusted follower to thank for you being here, Matty, isn't that right, Severus?"

"Yes, my lord." The younger Snape answered.

"He found out all about your plans to run away, to get away from terrible, evil, me." Riddle laughed, and his minions once again joined in, falling silent when their Lord raised his hand. "He found out what your wife is, what your disgusting child is, and he brought you all back to me for judgement."

Tears were glittering in the man's eyes, dripping down into his scraggly beard that was a dark brown with flecks of grey. His whole body shook as he fought and fought the cruse, his fingers looking almost like claws as he tried to move his arm.

"I wouldn't bother, Matty, Severus is an incredibly accomplished wizard, you will do as I say, isn't that right, Severus?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Now, I have something I would like you to do." He leaned forward, whispering in the man's ear and Draco watched as a new wave of fear flooded the man's eyes, tears flowing down his cheeks furiously and wetting his beard.

"NOOO." The cry was hoarse as it fought its way out of his mouth.

"Now, now, I do not like people that defy me, I thought you would have learnt that by now." Lifting his own wand Riddle cast another Imperius curse, watching with fascination as the man's legs moved jerkily towards the end of the ballroom where his child struggled against Knotts father, and his wife was struggling to lift herself up on shaking arms, blood dripping from her nose in a disgusting ooze.

"Daddy." The baby was now struggling for her father, letting out another sob when Knotts father refused to relinquish his grip.

"Somebody give my good man a wand." His followers faltered at his words, but quickly, Draco watched his father step forward, placing his wand into Matty's hands and stepping back quickly.

"Matty." It was the woman, she had turned to him, her eyes widening with understanding. "Matty don't, please." Her next words were lost in a flash of green light, her body flinging back and then remaining still.

Draco stumbled back, his stomach turning, he didn't want to see anymore, didn't need to see, he got it, he understood.

"Stop it, I don't want to see anymore."

"You have to," Snape stated simply.

"No, no I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"Let the child go, Knott," Riddle said calmly.

There was the sound of the child running, screaming and crying for her Daddy, the room so full of noise that Draco didn't think he could cope, then there was a flash of green and everything was silent and still.

"Relieve him of your wand Lucius and take him back to the dungeons." Quickly the memory cleared, and he was in Snape's office, on his knees retching.

"How could you do that?"

"Matheus Stradd, he followed The Dark Lord from the very beginning. His wife Isabelle, she was raised by Muggles, adopted by them. The child, the child was a muggle, her parents had died in a terrible accident and Isabelle had agreed to take her on. Matheus thought they could get away from everything he had helped start. He thought they could begin anew somewhere else. It was not to be."

"And who's fault was that?" Draco spat, looking up at his professor with disgust.

"Mine, I know it and I have to live with it every day."

"Why did you show me this…why…?" Draco realised with embarrassment that he was crying, great fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't know this Matty, didn't know him or his wife, or the small child they had chosen to take on as their own, but he saw the pain the agony and he knew it. That would happen to him, would happen to his family if he decided to go against The Dark Lord. His father was not brave enough to deny him, could not stand against such evil and he, well he was apart of the family. He was a Malfoy and always would be and he could not get away from it.

"Miss Granger is not the only one at risk," Snape stated, his dark eyes looking down at Draco as he knelt on the floor, his hand wiping his nose as he sniffed loudly. "I can protect you and your family, Draco, but I can't do it if you carry on this way."

Draco nodded, staring vacantly at the jars that littered the shelves of Snape's office. At that moment he had never hated Harry Potter more. The golden boy, the be all and end all, the wizarding worlds only hope, the boy with all the choices.