A Closer Look In The Snake Nest

Chapter 6

"How do I look?"

Draco stared at Pansy's face, which was painted black. She was dressed in the same colour, and so was Draco. Their faces were painted so that they couldn't be recognised. They were on a Death Eater assignment.

It wasn't Draco first mission - a month had passed since the night of his initiation - but he could still feel the thrill. They were to crash a party. It was a wizard party, but there would be Muggle-borns and Muggle-lovers there. Their task was to provoke absolute terror, maybe write bad things about the Mudbloods in the wall, using fresh blood as ink. No big deal. Draco and Pansy were proper Death Eaters, but on account of their age they were given lighter, non-agenda-interfering missions. The Dark Lord would be satisfied if they were in the Daily Prophet on the next day.

Draco was fond of it.

Had always thought myself to be the evil plan maker type. Now it seems that the metallic taste of blood has become one of my likings.

Draco discovered that he enjoyed making mischief unnamed, dressed in black. Not identifiable. No pressure to live up to the Malfoy name and permission to use all the Dark Arts tricks he knew. Real duels where he could actually hurt people just for kicks. The adrenaline got him high. He'd totally freak for the night, and then go back to Hogwarts with his robes stained with blood, the screams of his victims echoing on his ears. Then, and only then, he'd sleep as tight as a baby.

Pansy Parkinson was a fine one to have around on times like those. There were times he'd drop the action and let the Mudbloods run in fear for the sake of a quick shag with the menace of the Ministry to come in at any moment.

Draco caught hold of his wand and smiled ferally. His greyish eyes were glowing cruelly in the darkness of his face. He too was ready.

-*-

For the first time in his life, Lucius Malfoy found himself in the terrible situation of holding a feather in front of a blank piece of parchment and not knowing what to write.

It had to be Sev, of all people.

He was trying to write a letter to Severus Snape. After many nights awake in his bed musing, Lucius had come to the conclusion that he couldn't simply throw away Severus' company. It had been a constant in his life for as long as he could remember, and Lucius liked constant things.

Just admit it Malfoy, you like me. You love the feel of me, but first of all you like me.

When had Severus become so entangled to his being that he even voiced his opinions directly inside Lucius' head? The latter didn't know, and found it extremely annoying. Because most of the time he was right.

I hope he doesn't expect me to voice my feelings for him like a lovesick teenager, because I won't do that.

But somehow Lucius felt that he had to make his feelings for Severus known. It couldn't be in the Death Eater meetings, because if Voldemort ever happened to notice... Lucius went paler than usual with the simple thought of it. The Dark Lord loved to break the things people cherished, and Lucius took much pride in never have given him anything to break. Draco was too precious a piece in the great chess board of the War for Voldemort to dare messing with him, or so Lucius hoped.

Don't hope, conceive a backup plan.

That was the Slytherin part of Lucius talking. He had done that. During his entire life, he had always had a backup plan for every situation. Every single one except sleeping with his former roommate and the closest thing he had to a friend, who happened to be madly in love with him. And the way he had found to protect himself from the unfamiliar feelings that had suddenly come to the surface had been to shut them away and treat the newest object of his desire like dirt. That was because he trusted he could undo all bad things with a charming smile.

The Malfoy arrogance.

And besides being charming, he used the Malfoy ways of flirting.

I've already bought Sev a present.

But Lucius knew better than to try to make it all right with an expensive present. He had screwed up too badly for it to work.

Besides, Sev is the only bloody one who won't fall for it. He'll tell me exactly where to shove that present. For him, it has to be... special.

An amused smile had come to play at Lucius' lips when he had first thought of his plan to gain Severus back. It had been followed by several ironic but at the same time half-hearted mental remarks of how hopelessly romantic Sev had always been, and how he had always failed miserably to hide it from Lucius.

Of how miserably Sev has always failed to hide everything from me.

Suddenly the words flushed inside Lucius' mind, and he knew exactly what to write.

Make it intriguing, mysterious, in an enervating neutral way.

Severus' first reaction would be anger, but hopefully curiosity would take the best of him and Lucius' plan would work. Either that, or all would be lost. It was definitely dangerous.

And everything I do isn't?

-*-

"Fuck."

"Come!"

Pansy extended a hand to Draco, helping him out of the smoking debris. They had precious few moments to leave; the Ministry was firing up red and green lights to indicate that they were coming. That everybody could take a breath in relief. Everybody but the two Death Eaters.

It appears that I have outdone myself this time.

There wasn't much left of the small village between the walls of a medieval castle that they had just busted into. Several Muggles were at a terrible state: furnuncles all over their bodies; some of them had body parts missing. Most had had their faces permanently altered by having been hit by a mix of curses; one of them had, curiously, started to vomit snails exactly like third-year Ronald Weasley.

No harm in having some fun.

The Dark Mark had been projected upon the moonless night sky at the second the dead Muggle's body landed on the floor with a loud thud, and the screams and lightning had caused the Ministry of Magic to show up a bit sooner than they used to.

Pansy and Draco were now on a mad dash towards the only house still standing, from where they trusted they'd have time enough to Disapparate. All of a sudden, something struck Draco.

"Where the hell is McNair?"

The youth hissed furiously as he realised that the one who should have been looking after him and Pansy was nowhere in sight.

"What do YOU care, Malfoy?"

Draco could have snickered. True. If Mcnair actually made it back to Voldemort's, both the Dark Lord and Lucius would skin him alive for not taking proper care of their beloved Draco.

Draco looked around one last time, drinking in the images of chaos before starting to run again. He was about to do that when he felt his body jerking back.

"I've got them!"

"Let fucking go of him!"

It was Pansy who talked last, pulling out her wand. She turned around, her blue eyes icy and her face in a scowl as she faced the young Ministry Officer that had Draco under the command of his wand. There were a few quick instants of a battle of wills between the two: Pansy the Slytherin and the sobbing pathetic fella that owed his job to being nephew to an important wizard. The Death Eaters would have escaped without major incidents had it not been the imposing voice that boomed,

"Leave them to me, Greg."

Quick, strong footsteps approached. It was a brown-haired green-eyed mid-thirties Auror. Draco loathed him on the instant he laid his eyes on the bony, unshaved face. A sadistic smile came to play on the stranger's full lips. The Malfoy scanned his extensive mental files but wasn't able to identify the man. However, should nothing be done in the sense of eliminating that sickening smile, he was sure to give the Auror some permanent bruises to remember him by.

"They're just kids. I'm sure we can talk this over. Bind them; they'll go with me."

His tone made the significance of 'talk' very clear to Draco, clearer even that the lust waves oozing from him and being amplified ten times by the Uylessea stone hanging from his neck. He didn't like it the last bit.

Pedophilic Mudblood bastard.

For a second Draco wished he could wipe his face clean and reveal that he was a Malfoy, just to watch the Auror's reaction, just to see the man trembling in fear of Lucius' wrath. But thinking it over, Draco smiled a cruel smile. He was already old enough for his own Malfoy wrath to mean permanent damage.

He hated being underestimated; just because he was barely sixteen years old it didn't mean he wasn't a bloody expert in the Dark Arts, didn't mean he couldn't break free of the bonds Greg was applying to his wrists and execute the Avada Kedavra curse with as much ease as the Wingardium Leviosa. Draco had, however, tended to lean towards more slow and painful charms lately. He vaguely connected those to Voldemort's influence, to the Dark Lord's blood running entangled with his own. Whatever the reason was, Draco now enjoyed pain, especially another's.

Can always make the son of a Mudblood bitch sob.

Draco's thoughts were roughly interrupted when he was thrown against a wall, hitting his nose in the process. Red blood spilled from it.

The Auror invaded Draco's personal space, leaning close to whisper in his ear.

"I hope you hate blood because we're going to spend some quality time together, Death Eater scum."

Draco could have rolled his eyes. He was stuck with Big Tough Auror.

"Take your Mudblood hands off of me."

"Let's see if you're so calm when I shove my Mudblood cock up your shiny Pureblood ass."

Having said that, the Auror's hands went to the zipper of Draco's pants.

"I. Don't. Take. It. Up. The. Ass."

With that Draco shot his head back, hitting the officer's nose with it. The man took a hand to his bleeding nose, and wandless magic, doubled by the anger Draco was feeling, was enough to send the rapist some good ten feet into the air, giving the youth time to free himself and get hold of his wand. He watched as the Auror hit the floor, strands of the silvery-blond hair falling over his eyes. A wave of his wand, a short word said imperiously, and the man couldn't move a muscle.

He turned around to face Pansy, who had taken care of Greg while he had knocked out the rapist Auror. Sticking his tongue out to lick the blood over his lips, Draco nodded to her. She Disapparated.

Draco turned around to fix his stare on his new captive. A serpentine smile invaded his lips as he stepped closer.

"What's your name?"

Velvet voice never betraying what was to come.

"What do YOU care?"

"Wrong answer. Dermoflagelatio!"

"Wha- aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!"

Draco watched in delight as the Auror felt his skin burn from the inside out, all over his body, as though lava were running under it. The man's face contorted to a mask of pain and his eyes threatened to fall out of their orbits. The Malfoy waved his right hand, that wasn't holding the wand, to cease the charm. The man's hard breath contrasted strongly with his calm tone as he repeated his question.

"What's your name?"

"Rupert."

"In response to your previous question, Rupert... I don't. I honestly don't care." He took a step closer and kneeled down until his face was level with the Auror's. "All I care about the Mudbloods is that they are enslaved, soon. Would prefer eliminating myself."

"Bullshit. You only do what You-Know-Who tells you to because you pee yourself at the thought of him punishing you."

"It isn't me that is afraid to say his very name, now is it?"

Draco lifted his prey's chin with a finger.

"I need to fear neither Light nor Darkness. Contrary to you, I was born with magic flowing through my very veins. It is only a matter of using it, and I assure you that I can do it well."

"You're a brat."

"I'm a bloody expert, Rupert. But you don't have to take my word for that."

Draco made a pause to savour the man's fear, and was about to start a new sentence when he saw the red and green lights coming closer. He looked down to the Auror.

"I'd love to stay and play more, but I'm not feeling exactly sociable. Just so you can't say that I don't care, I'll leave a friend with you. Serpensortia!"

The big, black serpent materialised from Draco's wand. With sinuous movements, it encircled Rupert's body. Draco shot him a mocking kiss before Disapparating.

-*-

Severus Snape used the tip of his toes to check the temperature of the water.

Perfect.

He entered his bathtub and slumped to a seating position, letting out a groan as the hot water covered all of his body. Severus loved long hot baths; he had since his school days. He opened his eyes and looked at his robes, hanging on the back of the bathroom door. They were black, turtle necked robes.

Lucius' robes.

Severus took a moment to blush privately at using these robes to sleep, cuddling to his own sleeve in an attempt to smell Lucius' scent.

It has been one month and a half now.

It was the beginning of December, and Lucius' attitude hadn't changed the slightest bit. He'd behave normally at Death Eater meetings, and even when paired up with Severus for missions he'd act as if nothing had happened.

Blasted Lucifer. I should just tell him to sod off and not care.

He really shouldn't care, but he was perfectly aware of his own helplessness whenever the matter concerned Lucius Malfoy.

The bath was taken slow and methodically, as was Severus' habit of doing everything else. Afterwards the Potions Master slipped into his one-time-lover's robes and sat by his desk to prepare tests. Students had been suffering with the aggravation of his normally bad mood, and huge doses of points had been taken from every house, with a slightly smaller account for his own. The only student not to lose points was Draco Malfoy, but that was for his own merit. Snape rather took pride in Draco never loosing points.

An owl distracted him from his thoughts about his pet student and look-alike of the cause of his greatest pain and pleasure. Severus instantly recognised the owl as one of the Malfoy's. The letter, written in elegant parchment and black ink, jumped to his hands.

'Severus,

There are things of the uttermost importance that must be said. I trust you to know the subjects that are to be regarded, and not to jeopardise the only chance we will have to discuss these matters safely. I expect your presence at the Manor for the Christmas Eve.

Yours faithfully,

Lucius'

Severus' first impulse was to tear the letter apart and then watch it burn. But in his heart he knew that he wouldn't be able to resist Lucius, as he had never been. Hope warmed Severus Snape's heart, and started to heal its wounds. His rational side told him to be careful around the seducing and cunning snake that was Lucius Malfoy, but the voice was suppressed quickly by his happily beating heart.

-*-

One hundred two, one to the left, one to the right... one hundred four, one to the left, one to the right...

Draco's breath quickened as he approached half of the two hundred sit-ups he did every day. His belly wasn't in fine shape just due to the Quidditch practice and the Malfoy looks; he had worked out every inch of it.

The Dark Lord's service required excellent shape.

Saturday evening was perfect for some exercise, especially when one had spent the entire day studying. Draco's illness had caused him to be behind school schedule, and Lucius expected him to top every class. He had had quite an amount of studying to do.

Working out had always been relaxing for Draco Lucifer Malfoy. As soon as he reached twenty or so sit-ups, his body would enter automatic mode and his mind would be free to wander. Right now, he was trying to reach his own personal nirvana, a place where the thoughts of this world wouldn't bother him. Where he'd be safe from the visions.

One to the right... one hundred ten...

Even a month after his initiation, Draco still dreamed about the things Voldemort had showed him. But his major concern was this one thing that kept haunting him and scaring the hell out of him, and that although linked to that night had nothing to do with the Dark Lord.

I can still feel it.

The metallic taste of blood from the bruises, the swollen lips against his own. Fire sprawling over his body. A sensation that could be caused by the touch of one person only.

Father...

He felt Lucius' lips brushing against his forehead and then his mouth again and again, the electricity. His heart quickened at the simple thought. His father kissing him.

Since the discovery of his own sexuality and his very first experiences, Draco had spent a great deal of time flirting with the thought of him and his father together. At first he thought that he hardened when fantasising about Lucius because it was forbidden. That perception changed to it being a man, and finally Draco had reached the conclusion that it was simply about being Lucius.

In spite of how appealing it might seem, Draco had decided strongly against it. He did want to join Lucius in the flesh, and he wished their bodies were as close as were their souls. But he rejected the idea in fear of jeopardising the bond he shared with his father. That was the last thing he wanted. Draco knew the price he'd have to pay to satisfy his longing for his father's touch, because he was the one closest to Lucius and knew him better than anyone.

Everyone, and that includes Snape, Voldemort and Father himself, believe Father to have no flaws.

But Draco knew better than that; he was able to penetrate the unbreakable Malfoy facade and see that his father craved for something even he didn't know what was. Draco knew it, though. He knew that Lucius craved to be made love to slowly, oh so painfully slowly. He knew that his father wanted to be held and teased and played with, at least one time. And he knew too that there were only two people in the whole world who could do that. One of them was Severus Snape, and the other, himself.

Draco had longed for his father for a long time, and although he had never quite managed to be comfortable with it, he had managed to shut it to the darkest corner of his mind. But ever since recovering partially from the illness, the memory of the Kiss had haunted Draco, and his soul was on fire.

Writing a letter to his father about that was simply not an option. If, and only if, he was going to say something, it'd have to be eye to eye. Draco had met Lucius after that night, but always on Death Eater meetings. Under Voldemort's skilled snake-like eyes it was impossible to try any signal for a private conversation. The Dark Lord was becoming increasingly fond of Draco, which meant the blond youth was permanently surveyed by the red eyes.

Unresolved and repressed, Draco's longing only grew with the time passing.

It would pop up on his mind at the most inappropriate times, actually all the time. On that exact moment in the midst of his work out, Draco found himself wondering whether a boy desiring his father should be considered an Oedipus or Elektra complex.

One hundred fifty-two, one to the left... one to the right...

-*-

Voldemort was looking outside the window to the moonless night sky. He smiled. He was close to breaking Lucius. He already owned the thing his silvery-haired rival cherished the most.

I've got Draco wrapped around my little finger. I've bent him, and although he isn't Lucius he's the key to breaking my beloved rival. Lucius loves his son, and he wants to keep the boy from me. Might as well rub my ownership in his pretty nose. Yes. Take Lucius' son in front of him, tame him and make him plead, tell him what a dirty little whore he is. Now *that* would definitely break Lucius. And it'd be quite pleasant too.

Voldemort smiled in anticipation. Oh, that was an excellent idea. Pity that it should never be put to practice. Voldemort wouldn't overlook a crucial consequence of such act. The fact that he'd lose Lucius forever. He didn't want that to happen. Still, he toyed with the idea of taking Draco in front of his father.

"I am so sorry to interrupt you, Milord..."

Voldemort turned around to meet Wormtail's pathetic figure. The man was trembling from head to toe, looking truly terrified. Previous experiences had taught him that interrupting the Dark Lord's musings led to painful things.

However, Voldemort was actually in a good mood, so he only did as much as to put a scowl on his face.

"What?"

"I thought you should know, Milord. It's Ureck Zabini. He has brought someone here. The guards have caught them at the doors."

Voldemort concentrated for a moment, his senses searching his home for the presence of the intruder. Yes he could feel it, but he couldn't make out who it was.

"Bring them to me. Now."

"Y-yes, Milord."

The Dark Lord could have rolled his eyes. Wormtail was so... disappointing. Then, what else could you expect from a previous Gryffindor? He turned around to face the door, hiding himself in the folds of his robes.

Ureck came in, followed by a slim cloaked figure. Voldemort smiled a full-teeth smile.

"Welcome, Narcissa."

Narcissa Malfoy blinked, startled. But he'd deal with her later.

"Ureck."

"Yes My Lord."

"You know our rules. No one shall enter my headquarters without my previous agreement."

"Narcissa claims to wish badly to speak to you about something of your interest, My Lord."

"It doesn't excuse your behaviour."

Ureck gulped, and Voldemort watched with satisfaction as a small throbbing vein on the side of his throat became suddenly visible. He was nervous.

"Leave us."

Zabini seemed incredibly relieved at this booming order, and Narcissa's shoulders stiffened. Voldemort fixed his gaze on her once the door was closed.

His first thought was that she looked an awful lot like her husband.

Ah, Lucius. Always so vain. Choosing a bride that was a female version of yourself, the only creature you could ever bring yourself to truly like, besides of course the small version of yourself that is the young Draco.

Upon a more careful inspection Voldemort realised that Narcissa lacked strength and... something he couldn't quite define, but which was the essence of Lucius. Something that Draco possessed as well.

He smiled ferally to her.

"What brings you to my presence?"

She seemed to take a deep breath before starting an obviously much-practised speech.

"I have been told you are very much like the Devil. You can give people things, at the right price."

She had lowered her hood, allowing him sight of her bright blue eyes. He lifted an eyebrow at her.

"It is an... interesting way of seeing things. But I'm afraid I have better things to do with my time than to grant wishes."

"Your time isn't being wasted. It is something of your interest, I assure you."

Definitely stubborn.

"What would it be?"

"It concerns my husband."

"Go on."

Now Voldemort was truly paying attention.

-*-

Draco finished packing for the Christmas break. He'd spend it at the Manor; he always did. Sometimes he and his parents would travel to Switzerland for some skiing, but it wouldn't happen on that particular year. Lucius had sent an owl saying that Draco's grades had dropped a great deal and that the boy needed loads of studying. During the previous years, Draco had reached the conclusion that all the studying he had to do was a small price to pay for his Father's constant presence. And he somehow knew that just being inside the Manor would make the Uylessea stone on his chest lighter and brighter, and reduce his Death Eater-featuring nightmares to shreds.

They aren't so frequent now, but there are some really bad ones every once in a while.

Draco's main concern were his recently rediscovered feelings regarding Lucius. He managed to shut them away for a considerable amount of time, mainly when he was at Death Eater assignments, which made such occasions even more precious to him. But now that he was to be at the Manor, he tried to focus on the familiar comfortable sensation of warmth and being looked after and cared about. He repeated over and over again that, by the time he was to set foot in Hogwarts again, Lucius would be back to being the fatherly figure instead of the forbidden fruit image that he had assumed lately on his mind.

Time flew by and before Draco could think it was Christmas Eve.

The younger Malfoy had noticed that Lucius was becoming increasingly anxious as the date approached, but couldn't get his father to tell him the reason for such behaviour. Thus, everything seemed to finally make sense when he spotted four seats in the dinner table.

There was only one person who could have been invited.

It was no surprise for Draco when Snape Apparated inside the Manor. He couldn't, however, place the gleam on his father's eyes as Lucius held out a hand to greet Severus.

-*-

Against all odds, Severus Snape had decided to attend the invitation. He had gone to Madam Malkin's to shop for clothes - he'd rub how sexy and desirable he was on Lucius' nose, and then disregard the platinum blond completely. At least that was his original plan. Of course it was reduced to ashes as soon as he set eyes on Lucius Malfoy.

The dinner ran very smoothly, with Lucius, Severus and Draco entertained in discussions and tale-telling. Severus had arched his eyebrows when, in an exaggerate display of politeness, Narcissa had poured them all wine. However, it didn't help improve her image before her husband's eyes, and so Lucius gave her default treatment. She was politely included in the conversation every now and then, but blatantly ignored most of the time. She ended up excusing herself from the table, probably to cry in her room. It didn't bother any of the males present.

For Severus it felt like family. There was the one he loved and would have liked to marry, and there was his heir and son at heart. They were all together, laughing lightly over a superb Christmas feast.

It feels so... homey.

Immerse in his happiness, Severus failed to notice the strange glint in Draco's eyes.

-*-

Draco had studied Snape with increasing discomfort since the professor brushed the fireplace ashes from his cloth.

When did Snape start to wear pants?

For as long as Draco could remember, Professor Snape had dressed himself in long black wizard vests and robes. Specially designed silver buttons, collars and wrists were some of his few concessions to vanity. But on that night, Severus had apparently forgotten about all that.

But I'd be glad if Snape's clothing was the only thing different tonight.

Draco could hardly believe in what all of his senses, especially his eyes, had been crying out since the moment the Potions Master had placed foot in the Manor. His father had been deliberately flirting with Severus Snape!

Lucius' manner, the way he had dressed up and most of all his voice gave away his intentions. As if it weren't enough, Draco still had the Uylessea stone hanging from his neck and it multiplied by a thousand the love and lust waves emanating from his father at the sight of Severus. Lucius kept his eyes glued to the other grown-up's figure, and few times did he look any other way, even when his son was talking to him. To the young and spoiled Draco Lucifer Malfoy, that was outrageous.

It had never occurred to Draco that he could have a rival, someone who would steal Lucius' attention from him. At least Narcissa had never been able to do that.

Draco eyed the pair, taking great care not to allow his feelings to show in his face. The stone in Draco's chest wasn't making his life any easier: it was sending chills down his spine. Whenever the boy looked at his Potions Master, they'd double. And when Draco's eyes found the figure of his father he'd feel the elder Malfoy's excitement.

Their feast was terribly long, at least to Draco. Sometime around one o'clock Lucius rose from his seat and put both hands in the table, facing his son.

At first Draco liked that. Until he saw the serious look on his father's face.

"I think it is high time we all went to bed."

Could Lucius have been any more direct?

It took all of Draco not to explode in a frenzy of rage. Instead he merely nodded and murmured good night between clenched teeth that showed in a forced smile. He conceded Severus a small nod and was about to leave when the flash of a desperation shot crossed his mind. Without weighing the consequences, Draco turned on his heels and walked to his father. He pulled Lucius' face down and planted a kiss on his father's cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Father."

His eyes held an unspoken plea.

Lucius entwined his fingers with his son's, pulling Draco's hand from his face, and he smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Draco."

The youth took quick steps away from the dining table until he had disappeared from view.

-*-

Severus observed as Lucius' loving gaze followed his son upstairs, and was very surprised to see that, even when the blond turned his head to stare at him for several instants, the warmth was still in his cobalt eyes. Severus couldn't do anything but try his best to refrain from trembling as he felt his defences crumbling. He watched in a mixture of fear and happiness as Lucius slowly and made his way around the table so that he was facing the dark-haired wizard.

"Come, Sev."

Severus followed Lucius wordlessly through the Manor until they reached Lucius' office. There he stood nervously as the blond searched for something inside a drawer on his desk. He didn't know where to put his hands, and nearly jumped when he heard Lucius' soft voice.

"Here."

Snape took the small package and looked blankly at it.

"It's a Christmas present, Sev."

Zillions of mutilating curses raced through Severus' head.

I should know. Lucius Malfoy being so rich and perfect, believes he can buy me with expensive presents. I will tell him where to shove this. I am not his fucking whore to be paid for a shag. I will...

"Please, Sev, you don't give me any credit."

Only then Severus learned that his thoughts must have shown on his face. He opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish in search for something to say, but found nothing. Lucius merely waved a hand in a dismissing gesture.

"I know you better than that. It's just... a present. You don't even need to open it now if you don't want to."

"Malfoy, this is ridiculous." Severus tossed the package to the sofa and put his hands on his hips before continuing, "I don't know what do you think you're doing, because..."

Lucius was stepping closer. Without saying anything, the silvery-haired wizard grabbed Severus' hands and put them on his shoulders, while he placed his own hands on Severus' waist. Slowly, they began to move.

Snape didn't know what to do so he kept talking.

"This isn't going to work. You can't give me cheap presents every time you screw up..."

"Mmm-hmmm."

A soft groan was the only response he ever got.

Severus was trying so hard to concentrate on what he was saying, instead of the feel of Lucius' head on his shoulder, that he wasn't even listening to the soft music playing in the room.

"I'm no Narcissa Faye. I'm not blind, Lucifer..."

"Mmm-hmm."

Severus mentally kicked himself for the use of the nickname when he should be angry at Lucius. He found that he currently had dozens of reasons to want to kick himself, some of them being the small part of his mind that was secretly enjoying holding Lucius so close and the much bigger part of his lower body that was clearly enjoying the closeness as well.

"Shhh."

It was a single whisper on his ear. Severus bit his lip in nervousness. It was totally unexpected. He had been prepared for the Malfoy silver tongue, not for this.

Not for this... not for the absurd display of mushy romance that is dancing together.

Still, he was enjoying it. Every second of it. The feel of Lucius' body against his own in such an intimate and yet respectful contact. He couldn't help but to cling closer, to hold tighter, to inhale Lucius' intoxicating scent and become lost in the pools of grey when Lucius pulled his head back to stare at him with warm eyes.

The lips parted ever so invitingly. Severus didn't really think about it, he just leaned forward and pressed his lips against Lucius'. The latter was the one that pulled back and let go with a whispered,

"Sweet dreams, Sev."

A quick brush of that white slender hand against his jawbone, then the sight of Lucius' robes swirling around him as he turned his back and exited. The door was closed. A smile slowly spread across Severus' lips.

Lucius had been blushing.

A lovely shade of pink. Like a schoolgirl.

Severus walked up to the sofa and grabbed the package. He ripped it open. Inside the box, there was a branch of mistletoe with a small note attached to it.

'You know where to find me. Come get some Christmas candy.'

Severus snickered in a very un-Slytherin fashion, as he made his way through the halls. He finally found Lucius' room, and it was no surprise that the door was open.

Inside the lights were all out, but Severus could make out Lucius' figure in the dim sky light. Lucius was wearing a Santa Claus bonnet. He was wearing *only* the bonnet. Severus couldn't help but smile at that sight.

What a manipulating horny bastard.

-*-

Draco curled up in his bed, staring at the window. Outside snow was falling, making everything seem peaceful and merry. Draco would rather have it storming with tremendous thunders, because that was how he was feeling inside.

A small part of him voiced the thought that he shouldn't be feeling that way. After all it was Professor Snape, the black-haired brooding man who had always taken his side, had always favoured him in his classes. The one who had been by his side during the time when he was sick and shamefully helpless. The one who tried to show all of Hogwarts that the blond was equal to the Boy-Who-Lived, and who told Draco repeatedly that he was also worthy of, if not equal to, Lucius.

Professor Snape, of all people.

The old bond between his father and his mentor hadn't gone unnoticed by Draco; he actually believed himself to know more about it than both of them. Not that they let anything slip, outsiders would never suspect. But Draco knew.

He knew that Severus was unhappy with the state of things between himself and Lucius. He was too aware of the Head of the House's adoration, which was projected upon Draco himself and of which he disposed very carefully. And he had noticed the way the Uylessea stone behaved in the presence of the Potions Master, transmitting a feeling of comfort.

Draco didn't want to hear about those things.

On that exact moment, all he wanted to do was to run over and pull his father by the hand, drag him to a room, lock the door, and just stay there for all eternity, just his father and himself.

It eventually occurred to him that Lucius had a life of his own. Draco accepted the fact that sometimes his father would be working, rather than with him, and he had nearly no problem with Lucius being summoned by the Dark Lord when they were having some quality time together. Of course he loathed it at the moment, but there was the comforting feeling that Lucius only left because it was absolutely necessary, that his father preferred his company to any other thing in the world.

All in all, Draco was perfectly okay with his father having a life. All he needed was to be the centre of that life. Was it really that much to ask for? Draco had lived at least thirteen good years of his life for Lucius. Even now that he had started to develop a universe of his own, his father was still where everything began and ended, the one place every road of his heart would lead to. So far, those feelings had been reciprocated. Draco got as good as he gave. He was pampered. He had more authority inside the Manor than his mother. It was him Lucius would search for right after arriving, and the last to be granted good night. Their time together was treasured by both Malfoys.

And there he was, ignoring my presence. Ignoring his Silver Dragon.

Draco's blood was boiling, but there hadn't been anything he could do at the moment but to stare. Realisation had sunk, then. He had been betrayed.

Miserably betrayed.

By the two people he trusted. His father's life didn't centre on him anymore, and Snape of all people had been the one to cause that. Draco could do little but ache, sit against the head of the bed and hug his knees, trying to make himself smaller until he'd no longer exist and thus no longer suffer. He cursed being alone. From a very early age, he had been told that Malfoys were loners. But although his father said that, the way he acted led Draco to believe otherwise. The younger Malfoy had always felt cared about, always felt that his father was there for him no mattered what.

Tonight proved that wrong.

Draco never once thought that a Christmas feast wasn't exactly a situation of need, one to label his father's behaviour by. All he could think about was how alone he had been, how ignored, how abandoned. If they didn't need him, he didn't need them either. The youth repeated that over and over again to himself, eyes shut, trying to be embodied by the familiar darkness where nobody would see the tear that streamed down his face.

When he looked up, his eyes were bright and cruel.

Someone will pay.

Draco put his mind to work as he slid under his covers. He was hurt and aching and someone definitely would suffer because of that.

It didn't take long until he fell asleep.

-*-

Narcissa was afraid anything could go wrong. She was absolutely sure Lucius would use the Cruciatus curse on her if he ever found out. She couldn't help but think, not entirely without pain, that he was probably very busy at the moment. Besides, she needed that stone more than she had ever needed anything in her life.

As much as I need Lucius.

She tiptoed carefully to Draco's room. As she walked, her delicate feet not making a sound against the furry carpets, she realised that the atmosphere around Lucius' son's room was different from the rest of the house. Surely Lucius could be sensed as well as the very air, but not so imposingly as on other places. There the atmosphere seemed to be one of care and protection instead of ownership. Shaking those thoughts off, Narcissa pulled out her wand.

"Alohomora!" She whispered in the dark.

The small incantation worked, and she carefully stepped inside the room, holding her breath.

Draco was fast asleep.

Severus isn't the only one who has a way with potions...

She tiptoed to Lucius' son's side, and slowly pulled back the covers. She silently thanked Draco for sleeping shirtless as she searched for the clasp of the silver chain.

It gave away easily to fingers used to dealing with jewellery. Narcissa lifted it until the stone was at eye-level, and allowed herself to get lost in its green maze for a few instants before tucking it inside her left pocket. From her right pocket she produced a perfect replica of the pendant and set out to replace the chain around Draco's neck.

It turned out to be more difficult than taking it off, but Narcissa managed to replace the chain without any incidents. She walked away and shut the door.

-*-

End!!! For now...

About the Lucius/Sev dancing thing... maybe it was OOC. Ok, it was *completely* OOC. I couldn't help it. I love bittersweet romance, and have always pictured Severus as the kind that feels the insides melt over a sweet gesture.

Draco has proved to be truly twisted and even evil in this chapter... or maybe not. Voldemort's influence is always bad, I tell you.

Up next: No more Sev/Lucius fluffiness, or so I hope. People stop conceiving evil plans and actually start to carry them out, our dearest (?) Cissa being the starter of the mess. Action chapter, possibly the last of this fanfic, and that as such will take more time to be written. In the meanwhile feel free to e-mail me at

[email protected] for any comments, etc. (you can even get back at me for spoiling Lucius' cold-blooded behaviour)