The Snake's Clan

Chapter 8: resurrection

Tuesday, October 27^th

As the office door closed behind Draco's back, a talented witch came out from the shadows.

" ... The boy is so vain and disrespectful. He ought to be expelled!"

She couldn't stop her voice from sounding bitter.

"If we ever could before Minerva, we wouldn't anymore ..." Dumbledore signed heavily as Draco's vile and bitter words had found their way into the Headmasters thoughts.

"I don't understand Albus, his father wouldn't take the risk of going to law, less more engaging political conflict, in a situation like the one he's in!" Professor McGonagall spoke with a rage of detest of what the young Slytherin had said.

"We are not talking about Lucius Malfoy, Minerva, nor justice; but about the school. If young Malfoy is expelled, we'll have to face a riot among the Slytherins, and Harry's reaction is not something I would like to assist in."

"You mean that this boastful child spoke with verity?!!" Professor McGonagall looked upon Albus with a realization of shock and surprise.

"I am afraid the Snake has won this battle, Minerva ..."Dumbledore thought heavily, taking his half-moon spectacles off and held his temples to try and help calm the intense thoughts the were now plaguing his mind. The Headmaster sighed, then as in resolution, silently got up and served the both of them some tea.

As they sat around the desk, Professor McGonagall's own thoughts were wandering around her mind, inside the past abysses. Professor Dumbledore had used the 'Snake' word. He hadn't been talking about a common snake, but about the Snake. Could it be real? The Snake's Clan, come back to life? The Snake's Clan was a legend, as much as the Order of the Phoenix was. The Order regrouped brave people, eager to take You-know-who down, to make the Death Eaters' crimes stop, they were associated to fulfill these dreams. The Snake's Clan however, wasn't an organization, nor was it a group; it was a family, it was a government, it was a world. Created by Salazar Slytherin long ago, the Snake's Clan had united during centuries of all Slytherins that came into being. No one knew how they lived or how they ruled their world, but they all were aware of its existence. It was a secret kept over time. The Headmaster had told her, one day long ago, how Tom Marvolo Riddle had resurrected the Clan, while he was at Hogwarts. No one had ever noticed it, not even him, and only years later, when Tom Riddle had become Voldemort and revealed himself as the Slytherin's Heir, that Professor Dumbledore had finally understood what really had taken place in the castle. The Slytherins' attitude had subtly changed, from harsh to more secretive. They were silently becoming subjects of the Slytherin sovereign. What she couldn't make out though, was the reason of this resurrection ...

"Me neither ..." added the Headmaster as if he had read her thoughts, "but I fear there is more in it than a little child's fancy as the ones we were used to from Draco."

"Might the Malfoys be planning a campaign against Hogwarts from the inside?" Professor McGonagall asked, as thoughts in her mind reeled, trying to piece together information old and lost.

"It is a possibility Minerva," Dumbledore paused for only a moment, as if thinking to state the obvious, or avoid it entirely "the time for war has finally begun now. But for the time, may you bring me Harry? I have a difficult task to achieve."

- - - - - - - - -

It was raining.

The mourning light of the dying moon was reflecting in each tear in the sky, for angels in the heavens could feel his sorrow, all the grief in his heart that seemed would never stop aching.

His steps behind one another, people looking as though they weren't able to do anything more than walk ahead, he was crossing their shadows on his path; and, as he approached them, they reverently waved aside from his way, out of consideration for his dolor.

Harry slowly raised his sight and noticed the disappearing light coming out of his dorm's window. His roommates were likely to be happily talking, as every night. He ghostly entered the forest.

Sixth year had been hard for all of them. Murders and deaths had become commonplace to hear about, a deceased acquaintance in the morning. In these bloody times, people had slowly regrouped around him, as someone taken away by a torrent would cling tightly to trees' roots. He was their hope, the thing that kept them fighting for a better future; and the assurance that someone would save them in the end, the proximity of this living hero who was Harry Potter, had given them the strength and a will to survive.

What no one could see, however, was that this confidence they put in the young boy, was silently falling in a dead heart. Death, deaths, and death again, the boy could feel them all going away, but wasn't able to stop them. And each morning, his heart would weigh down a little more. He could see in his friends' eyes the need they had of him alive, of him powerful, of him insured ... so he kept the charade of a mask in place.

He had finally found the courage to ask Cho out, and they had stayed together for two months, until she broke. It would have been a tearful separation, if he had shared in her tears, but his heart was somewhere else. Under Ron and Hermione's kind advice, he'd asked Ginny to go to the Yule Ball with him. It had been nice, the time it lasted. But the bloody altercation between Ron and Draco had gotten rid of every straight thought that remained in him. How many times had he woken up covered in sweat, trying to get out of his dream? To kill Ron for daring to touch his silvery majesty, to bend over the bleeding gorgeous body, glorified by the red taints of his garments, and it ached more and more in his heart, to smell the scent of the blood. In a desperate attempt to stop the desire that grew in him, he leaned over the blond and kissed the blood-covered lips, licking and sucking, secretly hoping his desired would return the situation, pin him down, and make love to him, all eternity long.

It had taken him four months to forget the Slytherin blond boy. Four months that had been pure Hell. How to get rid of thoughts that tortured you, when the object of which is invading them is in your year? Whenever an Order's weekly meeting went by without his father mentioned? But he had finally succeeded.

Humorously enough, this state did not last long. At the beginning of this year, Love had rushed over him like a thunderbolt; never leaving him time to react, to think, then had abandoned him in his dolor. Was it a divine retribution for having refused the Love they had offered to him?

Destiny isn't an extern force, isolated and well defined. It forms a whole, compact and indissociable; composed of life's utter and variable characteristics. You can't resist it, because it would be like resisting the world. He had tried, and he had failed.

And now, he had nothing left, but his hero mask.

Snowed under gray thoughts, he never noticed the hungry red eyes of the creature that came towards him.

- - - - - - - -

Wednesday, October 28^th

"Ron!"

"Humm," groaned the tall redhead in his bed, "Mione?"

"Get up, quick!" Hermione shouted from the other end of the room as she picked up and threw some of his garments to him.

"But wha ..." he couldn't finish his sentence as pants and a shirt fell upon his head.

"Harry has disappeared! He asked me yesterday if we could work together on our transfiguration assignment, since he doesn't go in the Slytherin's dungeons anymore, but he didn't show up and he's not there either!" she stopped for an instant, "You still aren't dressed?? Hurry up!" Hermione screamed agitated that it was taking him so long to respond to what she'd said.

As Ron quickly finished putting on his robes, they ran out of Gryffindor tower, only to bump into ...

"Headmaster! Harry's disappeared!" Hermione cried out.

"I am well aware of your despair, Miss Granger, but I assure you there's no need to worry. Harry is in the infirmary." Dumbledore said, as he spoke with a calm but unraveled certainty.

"What's happened to him?" Both students looked expectantly to their Headmaster, knowing he would, like always explain that everything was fine.

"We don't know. Poppy found him on a bed around two o'clock in the morning, but she's absolutely certain no one entered by the door or any window." Dumbledore seemed to have an air of confused thought around him, while he spoke.

His brain getting the best of her, she quickly reacted, "Apparition?"

"It appears so, yes." Dumbledore finally relented, though still trying to figure out how it could have happened.

"But you can't apparate in Hogwarts!" Ron said, having that one particular fact drilled into his head from the previous five years of his schooling.

Hermione didn't even noticed Ron's intervention, as they arrived in the infirmary.

On a sign from Professor Dumbledore, Mrs. Pomfrey gave way to them.

Harry lay on a bed, under two warm blankets, his uncovered arms bandaged from hand to shoulder. His face was tired and he let out a painful sigh that mirrored in his eyes as Hermione and Ron knelled to one side of the bed.

"Harry ... How are you?"

His answer was nothing more than a whispering, "I am not sure. There are stars in my head ... I can't feel anymore."

"It's normal Harry; you were fed a insensitive potion," averted the Headmaster.

The Gryffindor silently thanked the Medi-Witch with a nod.

"I am not the one to thank, Mr. Potter. You were brought to the infirmary in this state: drugged and bandaged." Mrs. Pomfrey stated, showing that she was clearly surprised and flabbergasted as to how he had arrived to the infirmary.

"Who then?" Harry asked in a bare whisper.

The Headmaster turned towards Ron, his sight piercing the boy's heart.

"We have our suspicions ..." The Headmaster started, though quite by accident.

All eyes were on him, waiting for him to go on.

Relenting, he continued. "Some days ago, the ghosts and paintings started reporting to me strange things, such as doors that opened alone, wind in the corridors when there wasn't any outside, or candles that burned when no one to light them. I first thought about an invisibility cloak, such as yours Harry, but it had to be something else. I had done some research and found that this 'Shadow', as I name him, is an entity. He cannot be touched, but he may be felt. When you are near him, there's a characteristic feeling of wind, ... which doesn't leave you, Harry." Dumbledore finished, waiting to see if any of what he'd said had sunken into the boy.

"You mean Harry might be Shadow?" Hermione inquired anxiously

"No, I am implying that ... Harry is his prey." Dumbledore stated simply.

A mustering answered from the bed "But he saved me ..."

"Yes, Harry, he did. There are legends that tell about dark creatures. They cherish their preys, win their trust, bind their will to them and finally, eat them alive."

"Eat ... they're cannibals?" asked Harry with hesitation.

"Yes, redoubtable ones. By the way, what did he save you from, Harry?"

"I don't know exactly. I was walking when something fell upon me, digging nails or claws in my back. I just had the time to see red eyes before I passed out." Harry said as he kept his mask in place, not adding that it was a welcome comfort to die then as to not be a tool in this war.

"How do you know it was him?" Dumbledore asked with trepidation.

"I can feel it," Harry closed his eyes, "I remember it as if it were a dream. He came near me, then the beast circled us for a time and attacked, but he stopped it ... I don't remember how, but it fell at his feet. He took me in his arms, and the rest ... it felt like flying, there was some sort of scenery around us until he laid me down on the bed." Harry said, though clearly not wanting to open his eyes, as that would mean the end of his apparently joyous thought.

"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked, though more in concern Harry was leaving something out.

"All I remember, yes." Harry said, finally opening his eyes.

"That will suffice for now. You should sleep some more Harry, you're exhausted and your mind needs rest. I will come and see you later." Dumbledore said, looking thoughtfully with a faded twinkle in his eyes. He hoped Harry hadn't noticed

As they were leaving, Hermione, eyes deep in thought, seemed to speak in a trance, "Professor, are you sure Shadow is only an entity?"

"There is no other possible explanation Miss Granger. Why do you ask?" Dumbledore seemed to be surprised by the sudden question.

"Hum?" Hermione was just as confused as the headmaster, as she had not meant to say anything aloud. She continued her thoughts, however calming the Headmasters concern "Just a question... just a question ..."

- - - - - - -

As Hermione was heading toward the dungeons, she kept thinking about Harry's behavior. The green-eyed youth had seemed out of reach, only getting out of his reverie when needed. Though he'd acted better when going to see the headmaster, he was now reverted to his old self. The one when Cedric had died, the one when Draco had rejected him. What could the headmaster have said to him? And Shadow? Who or what could he be? Of course, she had her own idea, a feeling she was going to justify immediately. This was a new problem. No one but her, it seemed, had perceived the slight blush on Harry's cheeks as he went on about his savior. Despite all that happened in his life and his quick maturing, Harry had remained a child; a little boy with a need for love. Draco had always paid a great deal of attention to the Gryffindor and was a constant force in Harry's life. Hermione understood perfectly why her friend had fallen and chosen this particular blond over a familiar sweet-hearted Gryffindor. The Slytherin's attitude left her speechless at times, what had happened exactly between Harry and Draco for the boy to be so sad and guilty? Against what Harry said, had they been more than friends? And was Shadow Draco's way for making amends on Harry's suffering? All these questions floating in her mind, she desperately needed to find answers.

"Draco Malfoy!" Hermione shouted, in a tone that to anyone else would suggest he had done something wrong to upset her.

The Slytherin turned his eyes from the class book he was working on with a second year and glanced at Hermione. He hadn't the time to ask what she was doing in the dungeon; as Head Girl, she had access to all passwords.

She grabbed him out of the common room, "We need to talk."

As they had made their way to a secluded corner in the Library, he finally raised his voice to speak,

"What may I do for you?"

"Talk to me about Shadow." Hermione said, speaking with a deadly serious tone.

"Of course ... " Draco started, staring at her with a mock look of surprise "what else would I expect from the cleverest witch in centuries at Hogwarts to make but the best deductions ... how did you figure it out?"

"Logically," Hermione said very matter-of-factly, just as Draco had suspected she would. "I studied the remaining potion in the vial Ron stole from you. I couldn't make out what it was exactly, but I found enough evidences of what it did."

"The potion isn't the same, though." Draco replied in the same tone, all while shaking his head in disbelief at his misfortune.

"Maybe. In fact, I rather expected luck." Hermione half smiled as she spoke.

Draco smiled, "I fell into the trap."

"Really? Stop lying! I know perfectly well you knew I didn't know." Hermione said haughtily.

"Maybe. In fact, I wanted to talk to you." Draco said, a tinge of longing in his masked voice.

"What about?" Hermione replied inquisitively, while raising a brow in turn.

"Harry." Draco's voice was soft as he spoke.

"He is who I wanted to discuss about too."

"Let's have a nice chat, then. I have nothing to hide," the Slytherin calmly crossed his legs while falling deeply backwards into the armchair.

Hermione started with her questions, "You were the Gringotts's theft?" more accusatory in tone than questioning of the blond boy.

"Yes" Draco answered steely.

"What did you steal?" Hermione asked, as if making a mental tally of Draco's every word.

"A potion and some parchments." Draco answered, again in his same tone.

"The potion you made Ron test?" Hermione was a bit upset as she asked this, and it showed slightly as a red flair of anger shot through her eyes.

"You figured that out too?" Draco smiled widely; He didn't think that Granger, of all people no matter how smart would have been able to figure his entire plan out. "Congratulations. Yes it was, it is also the one that made me a Shadow."

"What effects does it have?"

"We don't exactly know. I didn't react the way we anticipated me to." Draco had a slight frown on his face at this remark.

"Is it dangerous?"

"I don't think so."

Hermione paused for a moment, thinking how she should phrase her next question before settling and going with, "Why did you sadden Harry?"

"I didn't mean to, I'll make it up to him." Draco wasn't expecting the question, but the answer flew from his lips as quickly as he'd been asked.

"Why did you save him?" Hermione pressed.

"Because he was going to be killed. I couldn't let him die." Draco hissed, then lowered his tone as to not cause attention to himself or the Gryffindor. He didn't want to stop talking until both were sure of the others motives and questions.

"Do you like him?" Hermione asked wonderingly, trying to see just how much of Draco's influence Harry had allowed into his life.

Draco smirked and lowered an eyebrow, "Now you're getting into personal stuff, Granger. Yes, I do."

"Do you love him?"

"Why?"

"Because he loves you, and you know it. I swear if you hurt him ..."

Her voice was dangerous. In the past years, Hermione had grown into a very beautiful and talented witch, yet no one dared to bother or cross the line with her as she had this horrible custom of cursing people that went too far. Back in their fifth year, Ron himself had paid the price by being turned into the twin of Neville's old toad, as he'd insulted Viktor one time too many.

"Why would I hurt him?" Draco queried, wondering how Granger would come to such a conclusion.

"Who knows? You have such a twisted mind ..." Hermione said this with a twinge of acid in her words, a shallow attempt to provoke the boy into revealing his true intentions towards her best friend.

Draco saw the bait, but refused to accept it. "Ah ... I don't deny it,"

As he spoke he saw the corner of Hermione's mouth rise. They were back to polite seriousness.

"So you didn't intend to send him away one week ago?" Hermione asked, with a slight bit of caution in her words.

"Oh no, when an angel comes to see you, you don't let them go." Draco spoke exactly what he was thinking at that moment.

'... You never let them go...'

"Tell me again that you won't eat Harry!" Hermione quickly added, seeing that Draco was starting to drift off into his own private thoughts.

"Hmm? ... I just projected that I'd eaten him, but if it's forbidden, poor frustrated Harry will have to cope with ..." as Hermione was turning red in both amusement and self-consciousness, he quickly added, "I won't. Are you happy? And where did that awful idea come from?" Draco spat the last words, as if only someone with a sick and cruel mind would suggest it.

"The Headmaster." Hermione stated, without hesitation.

"Of course he did ... the old fool... I'm not a cannibal; I don't eat people, besides to suck their life is so much more ..." he stopped abruptly.

"What?!!" Hermione shouted, blowing caution and their privacy to the wind.

"I was just kidding." Draco added hastily, looking around trying to see if anyone, especially Madame Pince had heard Hermione's outburst. Upon the resolve that no one had either heard them or cared, he quickly had the moment to think. 'Why would I eat him when it's so much more fun to have him as a slave?'

"Why are you wearing leather gloves?" Hermione asked, noticing them as if for the first time during their entire conversation.

"Necessity. May I do something more for you or will that be all?" Draco made to rise from his chair.

Hermione sighed as a part of this stress was relieved from her shoulders, "No, for now it will suffice. Besides, I have to go." As she was a foot away from the door, she suddenly turned back towards him,

"One more question! How do you know I won't denounce you?" Hermione asked, with raised eyebrows.

" ... Because you're unable to do so, my dear prefect." Draco said with his trademark smirk on his face as he spoke.

"Wha? ... What did you do to me?" Hermione, panicking as she spoke, unable to move.

"Only a little curse of my composition. You won't be able to say what we spoke of here to anyone, in any way, shape or form; whom I am. Goodbye, Head-Girl, t'was my pleasure discussing this with you." Draco replied, calm and collected as he left the hallway containing a very confused Gryffindor Prefect.

Hermione glared at the blond Slytherin prat in fury as he passed her and walked away. She wondered when the Slytherin could have passed through the protection spell she cast on herself every morning. Maybe he'd been lying. She quickly took a paper and her quill, but when she intented to write down the simple sentence 'Malfoy is Shadow', all she could produce was 'Malfoy is an albino'. She cursed. How did the ferret, the spoiled brat dare to come onto her like that!

Some minutes after, a shadow could be seen at the top of the dungeons, surveying the disappearing shades of the night in the sky. Some early risers in the castle could almost have bet then that they heard the silent whispering of the wind speaking, "Clever, yes ... But I am more."

- - - - - - - -

Hermione found Harry and Ron in the Great Hall, eating while playing a game of Wizard Chess. Her friend looked completely recovered, even if his face hadn't enlightened again.

"Mione!" Ron exclaimed, "Where were you?"

"Head Girl stuff" Hermione spoke monotonously, as if nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary.

Ron would have asked her more if the sight in her eyes hadn't stopped him, screaming at him 'Danger! Danger! Mad anger!' sign. He resolved to leave her alone and eat his food.

"Ron, did you learn your lesson?"

The familiar reprimanding tone echoed in Ron's head, "What lesson?" He asked.

"Transaparating potion." Was all that was spoken to him, though fury was raging behind her eyes.

He pulled a face at the realization, and noticed Harry blanching. The black-haired teenager was trembling. "We ... we have potions?" Harry looked and sounded horrified.

"Of course mate! Today's the bloody fateful day: Tuesday." Ron said, trying to sound humorous to Harry to lighten him up, the effect seemed only to darken his eyes.

Hermione put a hand on her friend's shoulder trying to console his burden.

"It will be okay, Harry. Don't worry."

"Yes ... not to worry ... not to worry ..." Harry said, taking in a deep breath and putting his mask into place for the day.

He couldn't stop shivering. What was he going to say, how was he going to act near the Slytherin? They had never talked since the Death Eater incident, and Harry feared this encounter all the more since the Headmaster's revelations the night before. The memory brought back tears into his eyes. Sirius, the father he never had, his only parental figure in his utterly miserable life, his protector of two years, was dead. Dumbledore had sent him on a mission at Gringotts, but Aurors had been there and pursued him, till convict and pursuers met Death-Eaters. The Aurors were found dead days later, and Sirius had never reappeared. The man had died alone, nobody there with him, for him, no one to even allow him his amnesty. Sirius was now part of the forgotten people of the war.

Harry quickly rose from his chair and walked away, barely noticing Hermione restraining Ron from following him. He crossed the corridors and pushed open the door of the potions classroom. There was still half an hour till the beginning of the class, and Harry wasn't prepared for the sight of a blond head, sat at the first row. He froze in his steps and stayed immobile until a voice took him back in the reality.

"Are you planning on to enter?"

Harry closed the door and made his way to his seat, each step more hesitating, and each step more painful, each step resounding harder in his chess and heart.

He did not, no, could not breathe anymore; but then, the angel turned toward him, a smile painting his lips,

"How are you, Harry?"

The Gryffindor felt all weight in him suddenly leave him, fleeing from his shoulders, and only left the desire to bury his face into the blonde's slender curve, between the neck and shoulder; to hide in him, to smell his scent, to feel his heartbeat. And the tears he'd kept hidden for weeks formed in his eyes and started to fall. Harry turned his head away but a kind hand caught and pulled him near the warm body of the Slytherin. Harry's heart was ready to burst as Draco's arms encircled his body, holding him closer than anyone ever had.

In his arms, he was in Draco's arms, it wasn't as good as he imagined, it was better, and it was heaven on earth. He felt protected, safe. He felt alive. They sat on the chair, Harry enveloped in between two protective wings, and his head on the silver shoulder, silent sobs choking his throat and two strong arms rocking his body in a gentle motion; their sweet lullaby of their story resounding around them. Harry let his happiness streak along his cheeks, his hands clinging tightly in the blonde's robes. Tender lips pressed on his forehead, and a hand on his back, pulling him deeper in the embrace.

"Why are you crying Harry?"

If Draco hadn't been whispering in his ear, Harry would never have heard it, and yet, he regretted he ever did.

"I ... I'm sorry ..." Harry choked on the last of his tears as he tried to speak.

"What reason would you have to be sorry?" Draco cooed softly in Harry's ear, stroking his hair.

"... Pritchard ..." Was all Harry could say before wrapping his arms tighter around the blond boy, not wanting him to leave him ever again.

"Oh Harry. You've no reason to be, you're not responsible; you thought you were doing the right thing." Draco looked at Harry's tear streaked face and brushed his hair away from his tear filled eyes.

"But ..." Harry spoke, weakly as he reveled in Draco's touch and the gentleness the boy showed for him in, even in his weakened pitiful state.

"It's past Harry. Everything will be better now; Graham is in security, and his father received the lesson he ought to ... are you listening? Everything's fine." Draco smiled as he looked upon the raven-haired boy, smiling down on him.

"And you?" Harry asked, looking up suddenly at his blond savior.

"Me ... I've never been better." Draco said, wiping away the tears on Harry's cheeks.

Though Harry seemed skeptical, Draco turned the raven-haired in his lap, till their eyes were facing one another. There was a strangely demonic gleam in Draco's.

"I'm in a deserted classroom, in the only company of a handsome young man with the most incredible eyes whom, for my uttermost pleasure, is laying just in my lap. Why wouldn't life be good?"

During Draco's little speech, Harry's face had turned red, but he could now feel a much more physical reaction from his body. "You ... you think so?"

"Why? Don't you find yourself handsome? I think you are."

As Draco said it, his hand on Harry's back pressed tighter, the other crawling up to his neck. Harry's breathing stopped, his heartbeat quickened in his chest, and all he could think about were lovely lips that came on him, willing him for a kiss.

He felt Draco's breathing on his slightly opened lips, and quickly ran his tongue over them. They were about to touch, barely a millimeter apart, when a door banging open echoed near them. Horrified, Harry saw the Professor Snape enter the classroom and clung to Draco more out of fear. But the blond neither moved nor acted stressed. He simply smiled at the teacher.

"Good morning Professor." Draco smiled widely at his Professor while running his fingers through his lover's hair, seeming to dare Snape into saying something wrong.

"Good morning ... Mr. Malfoy." Snape said, trying to not notice the boy his favorite student, and head of The Clan was holding onto, no, stroking as if he had ownership of the other boy.

Severus sent a glare in Harry's direction and headed towards to his desk.

"Harry, are you ready for the experimental test?" Draco asked, cooing in Harry's ear.

Harry was lost in Draco's touch and voice, "Yes, I... my cauldron! I forgot it!" He bolted upright, sounding a tad hysterical that he'd forgotten the main instrument for this class.

"Then run sweetie." Draco whispered secretly, sending shivers not only down Harry's spine, but his own as well.

Draco smiled, but one could wonder if it was at Harry's innocence, or at the deep sight the Professor in front of him let out. The time the Gryffindor was out, and the two Slytherins were facing each other.

"Perfect timing, Severus." Draco said, his attitude and demeanor returning to that of a business man.

"May I know what you're going to do with Potter?" Snape asked, somewhat indifferently.

"This is called 'seduction', Severus. You of all people should know it." Draco spat, unsure of how it wasn't obvious to the older man.

"The Malfoy Seduction ... Yes, I remember." Severus spoke, seeming to recall just what 'The Malfoy Seduction' entailed.

"By the way, have you seen my father?" Draco asked, though seeming to know the answer already.

"Not yet, I haven't found the time." Snape spoke somewhat apprehensively now.

"Then find it. The ceremony can't wait any longer, and you need him to be present. Am I clear?" Draco's voice was cold and calculated, not at all what it was a minute ago with a certain raven-haired boy in his lap.

"Yes." Snape said.

Draco raised his eyebrow, seeming to be waiting for more of a response. "Yes what?"

"Yes sir," Snape admitted reluctantly.

"I know you think I'm mad and sadistic, Severus, and I totally agree, but this is one of the little pleasures life gave me so I intend to make full use of it. I'll meet you tomorrow night in your room to discuss this later."

Students arrived and Draco sat down. The test was extremely easy, compared to the potions he was used to concocting. Regularly in the three hours, his hand had brushed Harry's arm, and each time, the sight of a flustered Gryffindor, red-faced, breath-held, and his attempts to go on with his potion undisturbed delighted Draco.

Professor Snape gave him five points for it, and it had to be the closest of a kind act from Severus to Harry Draco would ever see. Probably the Professor felt sympathy for the Gryffindor, having endured the same treatment in his own time.

Thursday, October 29^th

Draco quietly went upstairs, heading towards the North Tower's dungeon.

'I wonder how many people would beg to kiss me now ... and the little Weasley, by Merlin, the way she looks at me, so hot and willing ... if her brother only knew.'

He'd not seen Harry in the full day, for they hadn't had their DADA class, due to the imminent full moon. Draco had remained in the dungeons, making plans for the ceremony and planning his encounter with Severus. The man had held secrets a long time for Draco's father, and the blond now had a very good idea of where Lucius went on those long nights.

Flash-back

Severus was waiting, watching the fire; his body craving for what he knew would soon come. The flames had become blue and Lucius Malfoy stepped out from them, his attitude radiating with power. Severus stood up off of the couch and slightly spread his legs, parting his arms from his body, as if offering himself. Lucius wore a black classical shirt, which gave him a vampire air. His eyes lightened in the dark, so handsome. His lips caressed the professor's, kissing his forehead, eyelids; his cheeks, softly biting his earlobe. Severus's lips were half-opened, his eyes closed, his body shivering; Draco, who was listening through the door couldn't help admiring this man who desperately attempted to resist his father's ascendancy. He knew Lucius fucked other men and it didn't bothered him at all since he did the same, but when one of these men appeared to be your house teacher, the play became all of a sudden so much more interesting. A groan escaped Severus's lips and he moaned.

"Lucius, please" A gasp came from Severus' lips.

His father wore a satisfied and triumphant smile, "What, Sevy? You can't take it anymore?"

"N... no... Fuck me now, please." Severus said with a hint of desperation as he spoke.

"Already? But you know, Sevy: you must pay the price, first."

Draco pricked up his ears: what could his father ask in exchange of this little ... service?

"Yes, yes... take it, I give it to you, take it, drink me, please..." Severus said in a plea.

Drink?

Lucius laughs "So good of you."

He made Severus's robes fall, slowly unbuttoned his shirt and opened it, observing the now bare shoulders of his victim; Lucius bent over him, opened his mouth, revealing a pair of growing fangs and took a bite of the offered flesh. Severus flinched at the delight of feeling of having two long fangs in him, pumping and drinking his pulsing blood. How he missed this impression of reaching heaven. His head lightly bending backwards, his moans and groans increased as Lucius pushed himself deeper in his neck, and he cried out his name when the man took a final and harder bite of him.

He was going to faint but Lucius captured his body and kissed him. "Now, you can have what you paid for."

Draco had observed the scene behind him with great interest. So his father was ... a vampire. Who would have known? Himself, of course, for the feeling of blood's need grew stronger daily in his body, but still, the view of the two men turned him on, and he couldn't help wonder how Snape would taste in his mouth. Draco silently licked his lips in the room's shadows.

His father's powers were now rising around him like ices gleam, piercing the air. He wanted to feel this power too, he wanted to have men and women beg him for his favors, and more, beg him for taking their life away from their body.

As Lucius and Severus headed towards the bed, giving up pieces of clothes on the way there, he went away.

End of flash-back

And here he was again. How could he have missed the way Snape looked at him? So deep a look, full of this longing desire, that no one could see ... no one but him. After a few spying sessions, he had discovered that his father came once a week; but for the craving teacher, it appeared not to be sufficient. Each week, Draco could observe him going crazy, and his growing desire making him even more sensitive about little things, as his best student's smile, or his legs lying parted under the potion table, just in front of Snape's desk.

But this had changed the day Draco had become the heir. Severus had stopped looking at him with desire, his looks becoming more impressed or even afraid. As the perfect heir, Draco exactly knew what Snape feared; he could do anything and everything to the man, he was the Prince.

He entered the potions master's quarters and noticed the black-haired man writing on his desk, Severus seeing him and quickly raising from his seat.

'Yes, so much fear. I'm sure the only other person who has ever been able to make your eyes glint this way is Voldemort, and maybe not even him. What a pleasure you're allowing me, Sevy...'

"What am I going to do with you Severus?" Draco asked aloud.

Feeling it was a statement and not a question, Snape didn't utter a word. He watched as Draco made his way to the bed and followed him to it as the blond made a slight move of the hand. They were now lying on the sheets, Severus's head on Draco's torso, the blonde's agile fingers in his hair.

"You'll meet my father tomorrow night, he'll be waiting for you. I'll take you to the Manor, as I have business to attend to out of the castle." Draco stated, as if citing a list of chores he had to be done.

"What?" Snape asked, very unable to hide his surprise at this sudden statement, much less position he was in.

"Some people to rescue." Draco replied off-handedly

"Sir ..."

Severus surprised himself by saying it so simply. The word came out of his mouth fluently. He was a subject of the Heir, but still, to bow in front of someone who could be his son seemed strange to him. He quickly wondered how Lucius acted in this very situation they were in. Did he kneel when seeing his son? Did he show the respect due to the Heir or considered him only his child?

"Yes, Sevy?"

The man shivered at the sound of his nickname that was given to him a long time ago by Lucius. How did Draco know of it? Did he find it himself, by some chance? Was it possible the blond could have eavesdropped one of his encounters with the vampire?

"How ..." Severus had started to ask.

"I thought you knew better of me Severus. I'm the Malfoy heir." Draco replied mockingly, still on the bed with Severus, hands in his hair.

"You're a vampire ..." Severus tensed a bit in the blonde's grip.

"I wouldn't say that, but it's right I have some ... needs. Don't worry; I'm not here for that, not now. As you are to see my father tomorrow, I'd better leave your forces to you. But, perhaps one day ..." Draco trailed off, seeing the emotions and scenarios being played out on Severus face and in his pulse.

They stayed like that for a long time. Severus wasn't sure Draco was still awake but dared not to verify it, he still couldn't go to sleep peacefully thinking and knowing about who's arms he was in. At two o'clock, he felt his arm burning. The mark, Voldemort was calling him. He moved, but Draco's hand closed around his wrist in a tight grip.

"Stay here." Draco commanded slightly, eyes closed, as if seeming to be woken from a slight slumber.

"But I have to ..." Severus half-heartedly pleaded.

"You have to nothing. Stay here." Draco said with eyes wide open, as if judging Severus' loyalties.

Snape didn't know what to do. Should he go to his Master side of stay with his Lord? His arm burned with pain enough to scream for, and he struggled in Draco's arms. The blond slowly raised the potions master's arm to his head and licked the mark. The dolor ceased, but was replaced by a feeling he couldn't immediately place. As the blond kept licking, a sensation went through his body, touching him to his utter soul, and he moaned loudly. He felt the mouth on his arm smile.

"You like this, Sevy?" Draco replied, still while running his tongue on the mans forearm where the dark mark was.

A groan answered him. His mouth went to Severus's neck and bit on the mark his father left during his previous visit. He heard a gasp from the man, felt his body trembling with need. Draco pinned the man against the bed, "Tomorrow, you'll get what you want. Now sleep." Draco commanded, as if any other action would not be tolerated.

And the black haired man did.

End of chapter 8