A Closer Look In The Snake Nest

A Closer Look In The Snake Nest

"Incendio!" Lucius’ voice echoed through the basement of Malfoy Manor, which could be better described as a posh dungeon.

The walls were stony and damp; ancient air filled the huge space. Iron chains hung from the ceiling and torches were attached to the walls. Bats hide on the deep places where the torches were not lighten up, and the fire on the ones that were burned bright, casting trembling shadows upon the duellists’ faces.

The spell never quite reached its aim; instead it was neutralised in midair. The other duellist raised his left hand which was holding the wand.

"Serpens-"

"Expelliarmus!" Lucius shouted.

Draco’s wand flew from his hand, and with a murmured Accio it came to Lucius’ hands. The older Malfoy smiled viciously as he caught hold of his son’s weapon, and a glimpse of his son on the floor and on his knees.

"Not good. What will you do now without your wand?" Lucius said in an ironic, disapproving tone.

Draco did not answer, instead lifted his eyes to give his father a piercing glare. His cobalt grey eyes were focused; eyebrows lowered indicating the effort he was making. Sweat straps poured from the forehead and found their way on the boy’s face, streaming down his nose to fall on the lips. He did not lick them away.

Lucius felt strangely compelled to do so and taste the salt.

"Remeo wand!"

Draco’s wand, 12 inches of oak and dragon’s heartstring, attended its master’s call. It flew right back to the hands of the 15-year-old Malfoy.

"Wandless magic." Lucius put his wand down and stated calmly as he watched his son rise to his feet.

"You taught me everything that is not in the books, Father," Draco replied in a voice that gave nothing away. Inside he was a mix of pride for remembering and being able to execute such an ancient and unexplored form of magic, and disappointment over having had his wand taken.

"And you learned how to use it well. Good. Improvisation." He made a pause for Draco to savour the compliment before continuing, "But you made a mistake Draco, and a serious one. Do not, ever, use a spell that takes long words when you have just executed a counter-spell. Because that’s two times in a row you have to be quick, which gives your opponent plenty of time to think of what to do."

"Yes Father."

Draco faced his father. The practice was becoming harder every day; Lucius was one of the best duellists Hogwarts had ever seen. But I’m almost there, the boy thought.

It was summer vacations, but despite everything students from other Houses said Draco Malfoy did not lay in a pool of galleons, neither did he go to the nearby muggle village to terrorise people and eat their babies. He stayed at the Manor and did homework and all the extra work his father would set up for him. Work such as the daily duelling practice he was taking, with Lucius having volunteered to be a not always patient teacher. But a rather effective one, for the one thing that Draco wanted most was to please him. And the classes were a way for him to be with his father, because Lucius was ever so busy with work and his agenda. But he’d find the time to train Draco.

It was necessary. Draco’s birthday was to be on August the 12^th. Draco was every bit of a stubborn, conceited, proud, strong-willed Leo, and he was about to turn 16. A Malfoy at age 16 was a man, a grown-up fully capable of standing for himself and making decisions. This also was the age Lucius had joined the Dark Lord’s service, and Draco had been waiting anxiously for the moment he too would do so.

"You can go and take a bath. I will not be here for dinner."

"Will we train some more tomorrow?"

"No, I’ll travel for two days. But I’ll be back by Thursday, when we are to receive a visit."

Draco was familiar with the amused tone his father had used, but most of all he sensed Lucius’ curiosity. There was one person alive who came to visit the on a regular basis and provoked this kind of feelings on his father. Draco did not dispose of his empath abilities any more than he used his deduction skills.

"Professor Snape."

"Yes. Severus will be here for dinner that night. I expect you to finish the Runes assignment I’ve given to you so you can show it to him, he was always found of it."

As Lucius said that he started making his way to the spiral staircase that exited the basement they used for Draco’s duelling practice. His son followed, with the same catlike light stepping.

"I wonder what is so important that can’t wait until my birthday party. He is to show then."

"I am most curious about that too, so don’t think you’ll be able to get anything from me, Draco."

Lucius said in a tone that made it sound more like a joke than a reprimand.

Striding through the halls and corridors, they soon got to Draco’s bedroom door.

"Make yourself presentable for dinner. And bandage this."

Lucius used his thumb to wipe away blood from a small cut near his son’s right eyebrow. He inspected Draco carefully.

He is not shred to pieces as most of my duelling opponents at the end of a match, and not because I’ve gone easy on him. He’s learning fast. I wish I had more time to teach him.

"Yes, Father."

Draco entered his room and closed the door, locking it. He took a deep breath, then headed for the bathroom and started filling the bath with hot water; he then proceeded to remove his clothes.

The black leather pants came first, then the silk silver shirt. Followed swiftly by a pair of socks and underwear, that cleared way to a beautiful view. Or at least Draco considered it to be so.

Draco loved having baths, they gave him some time to ponder over things. Right now he was thinking of what could be Severus Snape’s reason to show up a week before he was expected, in the middle of summer vacations. There could only be something really important. Something to do with Voldemort, Draco was sure of that much.

Before getting lost on his thoughts he remembered that he had to go down and have dinner. He saw really no point in doing it as his father wouldn’t be there, and he wasn’t hungry at all. But he got ready as fast as he could, and in about fifteen minutes Draco was swirling down the staircases and past the halls, being eyed by every Malfoy portrait that hung from the walls. He stopped to catch his breath at one point near the hall where the stair would part in two marble stoned ones, and where hung the portraits of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Running a hand through the wet blonde hair, he proceeded towards the dinning room.

Narcissa was there, sitting at one end of the huge table, dressed quite elegantly in a silk sky-blue dress. She acknowledged his presence with an eyebrow lifted and the ghost of a smile, but turned her attention back to the door. Almost as if she was expecting someone. Draco noticed as he approached that she had make-up on her face, and that she was using a pearls necklace. He silently wondered who she had dressed up to; certainly not to him. They hadn’t exactly the closest of relationships.

"Hello Mother." He sat to her right.

"Hello Draco."

There was awkward silence as the house elves started serving the food. Draco waited patiently for his mother to start eating before he could do so. He had been raised as a gentleman.

She did not start to eat; not even let the elf maid pour her any soup.

"Mistress not want soup? It is good soup! Winnie thinks mistress too thin!"

"I do not want the soup or your opinions on my appearance, elf."

Draco could feel the anger emanating from his mother. Immediately he understood.

"He isn’t coming, Mother," he said in a low voice.

"Of course he is not!"

She didn’t look at him, instead waved a hand and shook her head as if the information he had just given her was the most obvious thing in the world. Draco knew she was lying. He knew she didn’t know; he could feel her frustration almost as if it were his own. He tried to do as he had done so many times when his empath abilities were a burden instead of a gift, he tried to shut it away. He toyed with his spoon, trying to ignore the sensation of sadness growing inside of him. Suddenly there was a small sob, followed quickly by the sound of Narcissa’s chair being pulled back.

"My migraine..." she said quickly.

Her high-heeled shoes did not make a sound as she strode through the Persian carpets and out of the room.

Father hadn’t told her. She hardly sees him at all. But he’ll be back by Thursday.

Snape was to come on that day too. Draco then remembered that he had his Runes assignment to do, and excused himself from the table.

"Young Master Draco must eat! Winnie sad, no-one eat her food! All Masters too thin!"

Winnie shook her small head. Her Masters were getting more and more odd every day; an atmosphere of anxiety seemed to be making of the Manor its home. But on Thursday they all would eat. The visit Snape was to come on that day, and they all ate when the visit Snape came.

Must make good food. All Masters too thin...

-*-

Lucius had been true when he said to Draco that he was most curious about what would bring Severus to the Manor. An owl had been delivered that same morning, curtly informing Lucius that they needed to talk and it was important. The older Malfoy could only guess the Potions Master did not do any reference to the subject of their meeting because it was something Dumb-old-dore could not know about.

This limited the possibilities, and would have made Lucius’ work easier if he was to spend any time thinking about it. He had gone on a business trip a few hours after the practice with Draco; things had gone chaotic at the Ministry and he had been summoned with urgency. Damn them. Could never get work done; it was no wonder Death Eaters were spreading like rabbits. Luckily that matter wasn’t on his department; he’d have a rather difficult time playing both sides.

Severus Snape was one that had to deal with being a double agent. Lucius knew, he had always known. He had not handed Severus in because he liked to have someone who told Dumbledore that Lucius Malfoy was not a Death Eater. Someone who would stick for him, who would help him if he had any plans of his own.

This person has been Sev since schooldays.

Severus had been there for Lucius during nearly his whole life. And now he was to enter the Malfoy Manor drawing room in a few instants to talk about something important.

Lucius did not need to wait much.

Soon Severus Snape materialised in front of his old schoolmate. He had on black travelling robes and a cloak, and a scowl on his face. The black hair was as oily as ever, and Lucius took some time observing that it was slightly shorter than the last time they had met. The eyes somehow held brightness in pools of blackness.

"Hello Severus."

"Lucius."

The Malfoy gestured for him to take a sit, which he did.

"Tea Severus?"

"No thank you. I don’t have much time; I am needed at the school tonight."

"I thought you were going to give us the pleasure of your company during dinner."

"It won’t be possible," Snape said curtly.

"If you are in such a hurry... what important matter brings such a busy man to my house?"

Severus could have responded with equal sarcasm – he could, but he didn’t. First of all, he didn’t have the time. Secondly, he needed Lucius to be calm in order to win the argument he was about to start.

"It is about delaying Draco’s initiation."

Lucius looked at his companion in the eye. And breathed in.

"This decision is not yours."

"He isn’t ready."

"I’ve been training him."

"He needs few more time, but time at school."

"No."

It was said in a dangerous low tone.

Do not cross this line, Severus. You know what happens. Lucius’ wrath upon you will not be the least bit pleasant.

But he had to.

"Be reasonable, Lucius."

Severus wished he could turn back time when he saw Lucius’ eyes widen for a fraction of second before narrowing back again. There were few things Lucius Malfoy took as much pride as on being extremely rational and cold all the time.

"I am. Draco is no child."

"He’s your silver dragon. I know, Lucius, I know. You expect a lot from him."

Snape wanted to soften Lucius by complimenting Draco. But it did not work. If anything, it made Lucius smile a vicious smile.

"He fulfills my expectations."

The implications of the sentence were rather clear.

And I do not. Who am I to order him around? Someone who has more sense, this is who I am.

Severus was angry now. How far would Lucius’ pride go? He’d refuse to see it, even risking having his son hurt? Not with Snape watching.

"Give the boy a month or two!"

"I. Have. Said. No. Severus."

He didn’t ‘Sev’ me. Very well then I must give him the Malfoy treatment.

"I don’t have time for your games, as much as I enjoy playing with you Malfoy. Draco is not ready to become a Death Eater and that’s final."

"I flatter myself that I know my son better than you do."

"And I flatter myself to be able to see beyond my big head to the fact that Voldemort is not someone to be toyed with, and even less is someone to give our children to do so."

By that time Severus was as far from his normal self as Lucius; both had quit their unbreakable Slytherin stoic facade and actually had blood running through the veins in their faces, causing their cheeks to be of a nice pink tone. They were both on their feet, and Lucius could only feel pleasure in being a few centimetres taller that Snape. Severus’ hair was a mess, and Lucius had his eyes wide. This was most unusual for both, specially Lucius who was known for narrowing the eyes when discussing; some suspected that he did it to make it difficult for one to read anything on the mirrors of the soul. But right now anger was clear on the mists of Lucius Malfoy’s eyes.

Severus continued.

"Delay it."

It was an order. Lucius Malfoy did not like to be ordered around.

"What for? For him to be at school when it happens? For him to show up one morning all bruised and go to the hospital wing where next thing we know is my son being taken to Azkaban for bearing the Dark Mark?"

"He has to have the chance of a decent duel! No matter how much you’ve trained him here, and I am sure you have, he’s not ready yet. You were halfway through your 6^th school year Lucius, you can’t expect him to do it before the term starts!"

I want him to be home when it happens, was all Lucius could think about. Receiving the Dark Mark did not go without side effects, Lucius had gone through it.

"He’ll be in pain and confused and I want him to be home where he’s safe!"

"With you? Stop being possessive and use your head! When did your senses leave you, Lucius Malfoy?" Before the other could respond with all the anger that, for once, showed in his face, Severus continued, "Draco will need everyday life to recover just as you did. If he stays home being taken care of..."

"He’ll be weak." Lucius put a scowl back on his face, from which the blood that had made it a crimson red a few instants ago was leaving to make him pale once again.

"Efficti ignavos patris indulgentia natos, Lucius," Severus said softly.

Latin. The father’s indulgence makes the children lazy.

Lucius were not a Malfoy, he would have sighed in exasperation. He hated it when his heart went over his head, and hate it even more when Severus is right.

"Fine. October then, but no more."

"October. Deal. And Lucifer..."

Lucius lifted his eyes to lock with Severus’ in an intense stare as a response to the use of his old nickname.

"I’ll be there with him."

With those words Severus left the room, probably heading to the drawing room from which it was easier to Disapparate, leaving Lucius with his thoughts.

Lucius had spent Christmas vacations at Hogwarts for his own initiation as a Death Eater. He had had a week to recover before classes started, and even then he had missed several schooldays in bed, covered in sweat and delusional. Severus had been his only help.

He could not, and wouldn’t, allow Draco to go through the same pain for the simple reason his son had something Lucius did not: a father who cared. He wanted his son safe and at home, where his presence filled the Manor rather than the air. Where Draco could feel protected, and where someone would be there to take care of him when he was sick. Malfoys were not found of displays of affection, but he knew that just staying by his son’s bedside would make Draco feel a whole lot better. Lucius was grateful to Severus in his own way, but he didn’t want his son to go through it. He wanted to be with Draco when the boy would need him.

Severus’ suggestion made it impossible. At October it would be the middle of the term... Draco would have to do on his own. Although Snape had volunteered to keep an eye on him, Lucius was reluctant in handing his son, fragile as he knew the boy would be at that time, in someone else’s hands that now his own.

But it didn’t matter how much he disliked it, Severus was right. It had to be done later... he’d have to trust Draco. He knew the boy was strong; he was Lucius’ silver dragon. He could do it. He would have Severus, and... and he’d have his father. Lucius sworn to himself that he would not be absent. An idea started to form on his mind.

-*-

Draco lifted his eyes from the light reading he was pretending to read. He had been trying to listen to whatever his father and Snape were discussing, but so far had failed miserably. His heart skipped a beat when he heard footsteps coming towards the room he was; his senses warned him that at least some of his curiosity concerning the motive of Severus’ visit would be satisfied.

The way Snape walks is totally different from Father’s, Draco thought absently.

Severus too had the Slytherin light stepping, but he had irregular timing and size of pace. Lucius’ strides were as regular as an atomic clock, and highly recognisable for Draco’s trained ears. And therefore he was not surprised when the Potions Master swung the door open and entered, nodding curtly by means of greeting.

"Draco."

"Professor."

Snape stood near the door for some instants, during which his black robes swirled around him in a vampiric effect. Draco closed his book and granted the teacher a politely inquisitive stare, locking Severus’ dark eyes with his own greyish ones. After deciding Snape had come there to tell him something bout would not say anything if not pushed, he cleaned his throat.

"You came to visit my Father."

"Yes. I was planning to come by on your birthday as well."

"There will be a big party."

"It is an important date."

The duality of the sentence was painfully evident. Snape was not being subtle – he was nervous about whatever it was that he had to say. Draco would be able to tell that much even if he weren’t an empath. He decided to push a bit further.

"Important things will happen as well. I would be glad if you were to show."

Snape licked his lips. He is going to talk. He was choosing the words.

"Draco. We thought it better if we delayed your initiation."

His tone made it clear that he believed the conversation to be over. Draco, however, could see something in his eyes. Anxiety, it was. He learned that Snape didn’t want him to become a Death Eater at all.

He did not like it, and saw no reason to conceal his anger with carefully chosen words.

"You think I can’t take it."

"What?"

"You think I can’t take it. Him. I am no child and I am not weak; I’m a Malfoy at age 16."

"And you believe that you can have the world." The tone was strangely soft, but got harder as the Potions Master kept talking, "I have seen it once, with your father. It is not pleasant. I do know you can take it, look at you Draco, you are a silver dragon. You are Lucius’ son. You are a worthy match for any grown Death Eater, this at age 16. You can read their minds and bewitch their bodies. But you are not yet ready to cope with Voldemort’s everyday malice."

Draco was shocked, and it was not for the wild range of compliments that had been just delivered to him by the Head of Slytherin. He had always thought that Severus could see his potential as well as Lucius could, but now that had proved wrong. It was not the time, though, for foolish anger displays. He had to learn more about the situation before he could think of something to do.

"How did you bend Father?"

"Oh, it wasn’t easy. He too thinks that you are ready."

"I AM ready," he stated calmly.

"No you are not. Draco drop this immature act, I expected better from you. Accept my advice; you will need some months of your 6^th year before you can become a Death Eater."

My father has taught me."

Draco was now infuriated, and that showed by his calm and silky tone. Snape had somehow managed to bend Lucius, but that would not happen to him. Certainly not after he had referred to Draco as an immature person.

"You trust Lucius and so do I. Both of you used to at least listen to me. Your father still does so, and I expect it from you too. Besides, it is not a discussion, I am merely informing you." Pause. "See you on September 1^st, Malfoy, and no sooner."

With that Severus Snape turned around and exited the room, leaving behind a very indignant Draco Malfoy. The Potions Master allowed himself a grin; this surely was a special day. He had beaten both Malfoys in a discussion. It should be made a holiday, he wondered as he walked towards the drawing room.

Definitely, he thought as he Disapparated, Draco is not destined to be initiated on August the 13^t . How else would he be able to explain winning an argument with both the silver-tongued Malfoys?

I wonder what will happen on the day fate is making an effort to delay, he thought darkly.