A Closer Look In The Snake Nest

Chapter 2 - I

Winnie was most disappointed. The Snape visit did not stay for dinner; both Masters Lucius and Draco were either too infuriated or too pensive to come down and eat. Mistress Narcissa never ate if her husband did not, and so no-one ate Winnie’s special food.

For two more days, Winnie noticed how little time Master Lucius spent with Master Draco. It seemed that both were quite uncomfortable on each other’s presence, and while at it Lucius could keep his chin held high Draco could not.

The truth was Lucius no longer enjoyed talking about the initiation with Draco. Ever since hearing it would be delayed, Draco had put on an expression in his eyes that told his father he was disappointed. And Lucius did not like to disappoint his son.

Draco knew it, but couldn’t help at all. He felt most frustrated that his father didn’t believe him to be ready at age 16 when Lucius himself had been.

It has nothing to do with that, Lucius thought angrily as he prepared to inform Draco about yet another aspect of the initiation. It had to do with him not wanting to expose his offspring to the one human being that, as a Dementor, fed on other people’s joy by taking it away. Lucius forced himself to focus. Draco was waiting and staring, and the boy had a special talent to guess what his father was thinking. The older Malfoy had to be very careful around his son.

"In your initiation you will have to duel a Death Eater. And you must win."

"May I choose my opponent or Voldemort will?" Draco used the tone that indicated when something wasn’t really a doubt but a prologue to a dramatic speech. Lucius felt proud that his son was able to bewitch people with his silver tongue, but made a mental note to tell Draco that it was rather obvious when he would begin his persuading speech.

"Your mentor will."

"I want it to be you."

Lucius pretended that he had not understood his son. Because he was scarred at the very idea.

"I am your mentor."

"No, Father. I want to duel you."

Lucius looked at his son. He had a calm expression on his face, as if he was stating the most natural thing in the world. To duel his father, who was feared and undoubtedly one of the most famous duellists of Voldemort’s crew.

"I will not spare you Draco. It’ll be a real duel."

"I know. That’s why I want it to be you."

Draco knew all the others would fear Lucius’ wrath upon the one who dared to hurt his son and therefore would not duel for real. Even knowing that he could defeat most of them IF they duelled fully, he did not want to do it. As for Snape, who didn’t fear Lucius... Severus would have the nerve to hurt him yes, but not to make it real.

His delaying idea has showed just how much faith he puts in me.

Draco wanted it to be real, and most of all he wanted to please his father by proving himself to be an equal.

Lucius sighed. He could not deny his son that. He did not fully understand Draco’s intentions, but he would not deny the boy a duel. He was sure he was a worthy match. And was sure Voldemort would love it with as much intensity as Snape would hate seeing it. He was not content with the idea either, but would not deny Draco a duel.

"Fine. We shall duel, Draco."

What am I doing? That smile, the smile on his face. It’s all that matters. I’ve delayed his initiation because I think he is not yet prepared to fight. He wants to prove that he is. Very well then. We shall duel. But not today.

"There is one more thing I need to tell you."

The sentence wiped Draco’s smile away, for it was said in a very serious tone.

"I am travelling again today. For undefined time. Ministry business, as well as some of my own."

"I see."

And maybe he won’t make it to my birthday. Again.

Lucius could not help but feel empty when Draco looked away. But that had to be done. He had work to do, as well as set some things regarding Draco’s safety and well-being. The last was the one that might take more time and cause him to be absent on his son’s birthday. It was also the one Lucius Malfoy was to put his very heart into.

-*-

Draco dove about 40 feet in the air, and zoomed back up again at incredible speed. The sun was shining, granting his silvery-blonde hair beautiful reflexes. The speed of the Firebolt 2005 Special Edition Deluxe made it look like he were the Golden Snitch instead of the Silver Dragon. The broom was brand new – it had just came out, there were Teams from the League that did now own one yet – and he had won it as a birthday present from his father. In spite of everything, on that exact moment he hated that broom. That was because no one could reach Draco Malfoy – except for his father, who hadn’t showed up yet. It was his birthday – the 12^th of August – and Draco had woken up to find a note on the breakfast tray. The informal words had remained attached to his memory.

Draco

Everything is set for your friends to come. Make any arrangements you find necessary. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it, but I’ll try. Hard. Severus will be there; tell him to wait for me, and to sleep in if necessary. I really need to talk to him.

Lucius

PS: to your feet lay your birthday present

A small party should be held at Malfoy Manor. Draco didn’t even like to think about it. Although he was undoubtedly the most popular kid on Slytherin, he wasn’t feeling exactly sociable right now. He hadn’t been anything but frustrated since he had learned how few confidence his father and his mentor had on him. He wanted nothing more than to scream, or to hurt someone – anything that would excuse him breaking the unshakable Malfoy facade he had to put. He wanted to hurt someone so badly and to see them bleed, to see them ache as much as he was aching. Because he knew his Father was avoiding him; Lucius had been walking on eggshells with him since the night Snape had come to dinner.

Not able to make it... like he cared. In the same line he added a message to be given to Snape. Ticking tasks. ‘Task one, tell it's all ready. Task two, apologise for not coming. Task three, make sure he tells Severus – Sev – to wait for me.’ Damn. I shouldn’t be thinking about this, I shouldn’t... not like he has been here last year. Or the year before. I wonder if he’ll be able to make it to my initiation when the time comes. Hell. Snape was right, I AM being childish. I just thought... I thought that this year he’d make an effort.

There was a small voice inside Draco’s head telling him how immature he was being, but he just couldn’t help it. And that voice sounded an awful lot like Severus Snape’s.

Draco quite liked Professor Snape. And, what is far more important, he trusted him. Not trust him like telling him what is going on inside his head (although he sometimes did so, trusting Severus with small matters, and was never disappointed with his mentor), but trust him like he knew that Severus Snape would do everything in his power to protect him. He knew about the love that the professor dedicated to both him and his father and, like Lucius, twisted it to his will instead of letting go of a precious ally.

Severus was the only one he could turn to against the blatant Gryffindor favouritism inside Hogwarts. He favoured Draco whenever the silver dragon got in trouble. Not like Draco wasn’t smart enough not to get caught.

Snape was also the only one he could turn to and ask for advice on his everyday problems without fearing the look of disappointment reserved by the Malfoys to the weak and pathetic ones who could not stand for themselves. His only not-quite-friend. The exact way it had been with his father, only that Snape would not fight to be considered an equal, instead tried to kind of protect him. Tried to protect Draco from both his father and himself.

And that is why he came up with this delaying thing. Now Father is aching because he disappointed me and vice-versa.

Draco’s empath abilities made feeling his Father’s pain and love even more palpable to him. It was painfully evident, and love hurt.

Love hurts. It hurts because I am no longer my own, I have... I need to please Father. I get fucking sad if I can’t do so. And I am at a terrible mood right now, just because he loves me and I can feel it, I can practically smell it. But I can make Father proud... When I get to meet Voldemort... I’ll make him proud. I’ll defy the Dark Lord and stand him.

Draco had been waiting anxiously for his initiation, and he feared it no less. It would be the ultimate test. His own power, charisma, all of his skills and magnetism against the Dark Lord's widely known brainwashing. Draco was aiming high; he wanted to make the black mark something to be remembered and endeared by Voldemort as a precious bond between them, rather than a symbol of the Dark Lord’s domination.

Voldemort will lust and crave for me as much as everyone else does.

He wanted to bend the ultimate manipulative to his will, and offer it as a tribute to Severus, his Father and most of all himself. Because the last two were the ones that Draco endeared the most. The only ones he has ever, and will ever be capable of loving truly. He wanted to make Lucius proud, because he’ll only be happy when his father is so.

I’ll show Father how worthy I am. Even Voldemort cannot break a Malfoy. He cannot break me.

No one could. No one except Lucius. This last thought sent Draco back to reality.

He did not show up for my birthday and sent me this BROOM instead. Marvellous. My Father wants to buy my forgiveness. Now I feel just terrific.

He made a loop in the air. He had to stop flying and go get ready, because in spite of everything the hated gathering would take place. Crabbe and Goyle would come, as would Pansy Parkinson. For some reason beyond reasoning, Draco couldn’t picture her wearing anything other than high-heeled black leather boots, for the simple reason it was the outfit he saw most often on her. He often saw her wearing ONLY the boots.

But he didn’t feel like playing with Pansy that night. He didn’t feel like doing anything other than curling up on a tight ball and sleep away the days until the one his father was to return.

-*-

Lucius didn’t show up for the party.

The night was hell for Draco. Crabbe and Goyle brought their stupid selves and their bottomless stomachs; Bullstrode came too, as did Pansy. The dark-haired icy-blue-eyed and pale girl bought Draco a beautiful velvet cloak, of a green so dark that could pass as black. He quite liked it.

A small, sadistic smile came to play on his lips as he thought of Pansy. She was his slave – there was no polite way to define it. A toy. It didn’t matter how many times Draco shoved her out of his bed by the morning; a wave of his hand would have her back there by night. Not that he was rude to her, such attitude would have been contrary to everything he had learned at home. Malfoys were subtle, and they kept their slaves at a teasingly neutral distance. If needed, their slaves would be held close, otherwise they could just stand by and wait.

Still she seemed quite pleased about the situation, and believed firmly one day he would end up marrying her. Draco didn’t understand, nor did he want to.

Narcissa did as much as come down from her room and greet all the guests. Draco could only feel relieved that she had enough sense not to stay for dinner.

Thankfully Snape did not join the small celebration either; Draco didn’t think he would be able to stand Slytherin Common Hall on his own house.

Draco managed to get rid of his housemates by midnight, time after which he was feeling exhausted. Still he curled up on a bergère in front of the fireplace, hugging his knees close to his chest and staring at the moonless sky outside. He was waiting up for Lucius.

He awoke next morning with his back aching. His father had not arrived yet, and the night of the 12^th had passed. Draco felt utterly disappointed.

-*-

Draco was a very resentful person and, to make things worse, he was cunning and dissimulated. One would not know Draco Lucifer Malfoy was planning their doom, until he delivered his blow. Snape had been the one responsible for the delaying of Draco’s initiation; he had caused Lucius to avoid his son and had ruined Draco’s life for the two weeks from his birthday to September 1^st. He definitely was to pay, and Draco knew just how.

A little over two weeks passed since Draco’s birthday, and the blonde youth found himself inside the Hogwarts Express before he had managed to get on terms with his father. Actually he had hardly seen Lucius at all during that time, and neither had him seen Snape. Now that was something he was looking forward to.

Draco had decided to put Severus Snape where he belonged and in order to do so he had spent the last week before the start of the term plotting evil things. Everything was set by the time school started, and Draco had as much to do as choose a prey for the games to begin.

In the meantime Draco studied hard, making use of Hogwarts’ library and receiving owls from home with books he asked his father for. After all, if he had had his initiation delayed so that he could prepare, he might as well make the best of it.

Draco graciously avoided going to Snape’s office or losing points in any way. This wasn’t at all unusual; he actually inflicted punishments to the Slytherin’s that lost house points. Being the best duellist on the house did have a few good things committed to it.

Life wasn’t just about working; there had to be some fun too. There was the quidditch practice; Draco’s training over the holidays was enough to make him even with Harry Potter who, as much as Draco hated to admit, had more talent. Draco got his revenge for that too. He elegantly demonstrated purchase of his new broom, rubbing it on Potter’s face. Few things pleased Draco as much as the astonished look of pure awe and jealousy he got from Ronald Weasley when the redhead saw the broom. At that time he so wished that he had a camera at hand.

A few night meetings with Pansy also fitted in the fun category. But those served only to occupy his time while he worked his way around his prey, the one that he would use to get his revenge on Severus. A 5^th-year Ravenclaw would do. The boy’s name was Ivee Tyre, and he had big, puppy dog chocolate brown eyes. His hair held the same fine colour. He was physically pleasant, and easily convinced. It took Draco a month to persuade the boy to meet him at the Potions halls after dinner.

For that special night Draco wore a tight turtle neck dark green sweater. Black dragon leather boots. Messy hair. That, and his black leather pants. For some mysterious reason, he wore them whenever he was to get laid.

Maybe it’s because I look good on them. Nah, good is an euphemism. I look good when I’m covered in mud. In this trousers I look just plain fuckable.

He leaned casually against the wall and waited. A few seconds later he could hear footsteps approaching hesitantly, and Tyre showed in the corner, hands in his pockets, looking incredibly nervous. Draco flashed the boy his best smile, and could sense Tyre’s heart skip a beat when the boy caught sight of him.

"Hey Ivee." When the other boy said nothing Draco held out a hand. "Come, and don’t make a sound."

He used a spell to make Tyre invisible and guided him through the halls to the entrance of the Slytherin Common Hall. He murmured the so the other boy couldn’t hear him;

Me, giving free access to Slytherin to someone who’s gonna be all over me by the morning. Not a chance.

Draco could feel everybody’s eyes on him when he entered the Common Hall, and could hear some gasps as people noticed his outfit. He smiled at them like Caesar would do before a crowd at the Coliseum, and proceeded towards the stairs that lead to his room. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Going to bed early, Mr. Malfoy?"

Snape. Draco couldn’t help but smile at the knowledge that the Potions Master knew perfectly well what was going on.

He’ll go to his next-door study and listen. I’ll make sure to give him some spectacle. Time for a little trip back to the 70’s.

"Yes, professor. I feel not too well."

"You are not dressed like someone who’s going to bed, Malfoy," Snape said in a low voice while narrowing his eyes.

"I’m going to take it off in order to get in bed, so you needn’t to worry professor. Now if you’ll excuse me."

With that Draco left, taking Tyre with him and a triumphant smile on his lips.

-*-

A pair of cobalt eyes opened to stare into the ceiling. Draco turned to the side and saw Tyre sleeping with his mouth open. He rolled his eyes and touched his companion’s shoulder gently. When the chocolate brown-haired boy groaned Draco leaned in and neared his mouth of the other’s ear.

"Tyre. Wake up... it’s time you get back to your Common Room."

He helped a groggy Tyre get dressed and invisible, and directed him out of the Slytherin domains. After that, Draco walked back to the Common Hall. He was about to go to his room and get some sleep when he spotted a lone figure sitting in front of the extinguished fireplace. He smiled a feral smile when he recognised the person’s oily black hair, and approached.

"Good morning Professor," he said cheerfully as he slumped on a chair next to Severus Snape. "Did you have a good night’s sleep?"

The look Snape gave him could have had melted Longbottom three times in a row. Draco found it most amusing and shot back a piercing glare of his own.

"I don’t think you did either, Mr. Malfoy," Severus pointed out bitterly.

"Oh, I’ve had a *lovely* night."

Yes I know you were hearing. What makes you think I didn’t do it on purpose? I can get under your skin as much as Father. I’m pretty sure you eavesdropped whenever he was fucking someone, and you just couldn’t help but dig your nails into your hands because that someone wasn’t you. And guess what, you have tiny red marks on you hands this morning. And I’m the one who did it.

The blonde boy jumped out of the chair and made his way to his room, utterly pleased. He took a quick shower and started getting ready to go down to classes. As he combed his hair he caught sight of the red marks on his neck, caused by a nervous Tyre’s nails and teeth. He considered wearing a turtle neck for the day, but decided against it. To hell with the ones who noticed.

-*-

Pretty much everyone noticed, Draco thought as he walked through the Great Hall to the Slytherin table. He looked around and saw all the curious, not in any way discreet looks and whispers he was causing.

Stare all you want. Yes, I’ve had sex last night and I’m comfortable with that. In fact I’ve had it until I couldn’t take any more, which means I got more of it last night than most of you did in months. And you’re staring at me like that because you’re all bloody jealous of the one lucky enough to be by my side. So stare all you want, idiots.

Not dedicating any more thoughts to that matter, Draco ate his breakfast in absolute tranquillity, except for the looks Pansy Parkinson kept shooting him.

Like I owed her any satisfactions just because I like to fuck her every now and then. Naive bitch.

Looking over the rest of the table, he took pride that Slytherin’s were so subtle. Any other House would have been all whispers and pointing and screaming by that time. True, some people *were* looking. He gave a particularly indiscreet 2^nd-year a scowl that had her eyes widen, and then he flashed her what he knew to be a stunning smile.

Ha. Now she’s totally confused. If a smile could do that, I don’t even want to think about what would happen if I had actually used my tongue. She’d be cut in half by my sharp wit.

How could Crabbe and Goyle be so dense, was something beyond Draco’s understanding. They both had attributed the marks on Draco’s neck to Pansy, and were exchanging comments on her bed performances. Not that any of them had ever slept with Pansy, but that hadn’t kept the two brainless creatures from picturing every detail from it. Draco could only roll his eyes at their idiocy.

When Draco was done eating he made his way to the Divination classes. He met Ivee Tyre on the halls, and ‘accidentally’ brushed against the boy’s shoulder as he passed by. Tyre’s eyes widened as he laid them on the Silver Dragon, who flashed him a dazzling veela smile.

I just love it that I look so good. Don’t you Tyre?

All of the Ivee’s books fell to the floor and his cheeks turned crimson.

"Morning, Tyre."

"Good morning, Dra –" One eyebrow lifted was enough for Tyre to correct himself in mid-sentence, "Malfoy."

Draco did not answer. He was too busy listening to a pair of giggling 3^nd-year Hufflepuffs passing by. He followed them down to the dungeons, leaving behind a confused Ivee.

"... and talking to that boy! It shows in his face that Draco Malfoy takes it up the arse!" - the boy was telling his little friend when a hand landed on his shoulder like a hawk’s talon, interrupting him.

The Hufflepuff turned around to see a smiling, very vicious looking Draco Lucifer Malfoy that, how bisexual he might be, did not take it up in the arse, as the young terrified Hufflepuff learned.

"Petrificus Totalus," he said in a dismissing tone to the other one, before turning his attention back to his offender.

"I," he had said in a rather gentle tone considering he was holding the boy by the collar, "shove it down people’s asses. Hard."

He then smiled maliciously as he caressed the boy’s cheek.

"Do not be afraid that I do any other thing than bruise you; I said I sleep with boys. You’re a Hufflepuff and therefore won’t do as a human being."

He savoured the terror of the third-years for a few more instants before letting the boys go. As soon as they were released, the young Hufflepuffs were running for dear life. Draco smiled. Being not too subtle could help sometimes. Specially when people thought you were a fag.

Draco calmly made his way up the Divinations tower.