Unlikely Beginnings

@>*~

Chapter Forty Four

Harry woke up the next afternoon, or maybe it was a little later than that,
bse ise it certainly looked dark outside. Turning over in the bed, he
frowned when he didn\'t see a blur of blond hair next to him. That was how he
usually identified Draco when he didn\'t have his glasses on, and was in the
dark. He wondered where the other boy had gotten to, when he heard sounds
coming from the toilet. Harry rolled back over to see Draco walk out of the
smaller room, and walked, shirtless, over to his side of the bed. Sitting up
in bed, Harry grabbed his glasses so he could see better, and was rewarded
for the effort when he saw just how shirtless Draco was. He watched Draco
grab something from the end of the bed, and it turned out to be his shirt,
when he stuck his arms through the sleeves and pulled it over his head.
\"What are you doing?\"

\"Getting ready to go; I changed my shirt,\" Draco said, stuffing another
shirt back into the bag. Harry looked up to see the sharp spikes of blond
arranged around Draco\'s head, and noticed it was actually wet. He must have
showered, Harry thought. It had been a couple days, and Harry was probably
sure he smelled a bit funky as well. Harry got up from the bed after
untangling the blanket from his legs, and he stood a bit wobbly before he
made his way towards the toilet himself, intent on cleaning up.

When he came back out, squeaky clean and quite refreshed, he saw Draco
sitting in a chair, ankles crossed, and arms on the sides of the chair,
waiting for Harry. He had his robes on, and had changed his hair, Harry
noticed; and the bag was at his feet. \"Where\'re we going?\" Harry asked.

\"Poland.\" Draco stood up, grabbing the strap of the bag and lifted it up
onto his shoulder. \"Father took me there once when he was meeting up with an
old school friend of his. I don\'t remember much of who it was, I was ten
after all.\" He crossed his arms and watched as Harry pulled on his own
shirt, which he didn\'t remember having taken off, and then put his robes on,
then his shoes, and was ready to go. He joined Draco at the door, and the
blond looked him over, frowning slightly at his mess of hair. Harry had long
since attempted to style it in a presentable manner, and just patted it down
while it was wet; it usually worked.

\"I can\'t wait until we\'re done with the apparating,\" Harry said, rubbing his
stomach. It still gave an unhappy lurch every once in a while after they
apparated. \"I\'m not sure if my stomach can take much more of it.\" Draco
looked back at the other boy as they walked down the hall, hoods up once
again, and saw Harry rubbing his stomach, again. He\'d have to find out what
the thing was about doing that, or try it himself. Now, wasn\'t that an
awkward thought? Harry knew it was because it didn\'t feel good, but he still
couldn\'t stop thinking about there being a kid in there. Not that he\'d
rather be at Durmstrang, but at least then he wouldn\'t have to apparate. He
supposed it might simply be the baby, but the rest of the sensations it gave
him weren\'t exactly pleasant either.

\"It should only be about,\" Draco paused, thinking, \"another week or less of
traveling. It\'s a big country to span, Russia.\" They got back into the lift
they\'d taken up to their floor, and waited as it took them back down to the
main floor, and into the lobby.

\"Is that were Durmstrang is? In Russia?\" Harry asked, sounding a bit
surprised. Draco sighed as he reached into his pocket for the key, catching
the concierge\'s curious look at the mention of the Dark castle. He set the
key down on the desk, and slid it towards the man, who averted his eyes from
the sharp grey eyes that stared back at him. The man nodded and took the
key, nodded again, and Draco turned back to Harry, who could see a bit of a
smirk under the hood.

\"Siberian plains; from what I remember, yes,\" hadn\'t be told Harry this the
other day? \"When father took me there, of course, we were able to reach the
castle in under two days travel.\" They started on their way out of the
hotel, but Harry slowed, and made to double over, hands on his knees as he
leaned down. Looking back when he realized Harry wasn\'t beside him, Draco
asked, \"Alright?\"

\"Light headed,\" Harry said through gritted teeth. \"I\'m okay, I think. Just a
little hungry,\" he fought the urge to rub his stomach when he straightened
up. If he didn\'t know better, he would have thought Draco looked concerned.
\"If we\'re going to be apparating any time soon, I\'d rather not eat until
afterwards. Draco nodded and readjusted the bag over his shoulder before
walking out of \'Der Müde Reisende\'. Harry couldn\'t help but looking to the
side where the dogs had been the night before, but they were no where to be
seen. Merlin, he hoped they hadn\'t been waiting outside for scraps. He
didn\'t quite like large dogs, and wasn\'t that an uplifting thought? Harry
immediately felt depressed when they turned down an alley, and stood behind
a dust bin, since it wasn\'t an entirely wizarding area here, and it was
better safe than sorry. He didn\'t suppose Draco wanted to be hunted down by
Magical Law Enforcement Officers for exposing an established community of
magical folk.

Draco went first, as usual, but he gave a minute for Harry to swallow
thickly, and he looked at the dark haired boy as reassuringly as he could
before he closed his eyes and disappeared with a \'pop.\' Harry blinked at the
spot where the blond had stood, and then he shook his hands nervously before
closing his own eyes and concentrating on his friend\'s image. Friend? Did
thinking about someone with an incorrect title screw up the apparating
process? When Harry opened his eyes after the swooshing displacement of air
around himself, he looked upon the edge of a small market square. Draco
grimaced as he watched Harry stagger to the side a bit before bending over
and dry heaving over a patch of grass. \"Are you quite finished?\"

The heaving subsided, thank Merlin, and Harry straightened up to look at
Draco, getting to his feet as he did so. \"I\'m alright,\" he said, seeing the
look on Draco\'s face. Despite his rude and impatient words, he did seem to
care, Harry thought. \"This is Poland? It\'s not any colder,\" Harry said,
looking up at the sky, wondering if it was going to dump some snow on him
just for saying that.

\"No, we\'re still in Germany. Berlin,\" Draco surmised, looking around, and
starting down the street. \"I guess Hannover must have made me think of the
rest of the country.\" Harry caught up with him and they walked down the dim
street, all shops were closed on it, not providing much light other than
from the street lamps lining the street every so often. \"My father owns the
branch of Gringotts here,\" he said, glancing sideways at Harry to make sure
he was keeping up, or even listening. \"The main branch in the center of the
city is Muggle owned, but this is a secondary, run by a wizard, but my
father owns the building and holds stock in the business.\"

If they needed any more money, which he doubted they did, since he\'d had
enough to cover the trip in his room at Hogwarts, and had taken most all of
it whim him in his bag, they could have gone there, but then he would
definitely be recognized. It didn\'t matter if he was a regular visitor, but
he was a spitting image of his father, and it would be obvious who he was if
he faced someone who his father knew so well, even if it was on business
terms.

\"I thought all Gringotts belonged to the goblins?\"

\"Most people do, but they had to get financing in the first place, didn\'t
they? When they started up, it came from old money from the old wizarding
families, of which the Malfoys would be considered. Germany is a very old
country for wizarding folk, probably second to Britain.\" There had to be a
place to stay around here somewhere, because Draco didn\'t remember venturing
too far from where they stayed while he and his father went on this trip
years ago.

Harry nodded as he listened, also keeping an eye out for even a pub to stay
at, of which he caught sight of one up ahead. They continued towards it, and
Draco kept talking. Harry was glad he\'d seemingly broken through the ice and
maybe got them talking. If he was carrying the blond\'s child, he at least
wanted to say he\'d ever had a conversation with the man. And, if he had to
defend Draco\'s character to Ron and Hermione when they got back, and
convince them that he was an okay guy, then it would help if he knew
anything about the Slytherin himself.

\"I think they\'re Malfoys still left in Germany; not in that manor that I
mentioned before, but I know we have less well to do relatives, probably
even in Berlin somewhere.\" They reached the pub, and peered in the grimy
window as they walked past it to the door. There almost didn\'t look like
many wizarding folk inside, but it was definitely open to magical folk, as
there were wands shown, personal spells cast, broomsticks to be seen.
Pushing open the front door, there weren\'t many looks tossed their way, but
the few of them who did look squinted at their raised hoods.

Harry followed closely behind Draco as the blond walked up to the bar, and
hailed the bar keep over. The burly man nodded his acknowledgement at Draco,
and looked curiously at them, and then Harry almost gaped under his hood as
he heard Draco speak. \"Haben Sie Räume für die Nacht?\"

\"Selbstverständlich. Zwei Betten,\" the man spoke, and leaned his weight on
his right foot to look beyond Draco at Harry before he continued, \"oder nur
eins?\" Draco looked straight back at the man, and almost wanted to flip his
hood down to glare properly at the man. His stark blond hair usually did
make people take him seriously, since they obviously knew it was natural,
and male veela were definitely a scary thing to come into contact with. No
doubt the man had seen slivers of hair that hung down into his face, and
combined with his eyes, which were, indeed a rare color, but common with
veela.

\"Nein, gerade eins,\" Draco said, and it really sounded a bit angry to Harry,
and wondered if the man had insinuated something rude about them. He was
obviously a man, and so was Draco. What if that really wasn\'t accepted
around here? It was a pretty normal thing in England, even in the wizarding
communities, but he had no idea about another community, wizarding or not.

\"Gut,\" the man said, nodding at Draco, and maybe he did say something rude,
since the man did look a bit taken aback by the tone of Draco\'s voice as
well. \"Ist das fein.\" He turned around and reached up to a rack of keys with
room numbers. \"Raum vierzehn,\" he said, and even Harry caught on to ,
,
with the help of the number fourteen printed on the tag attached to the key
ring, and the man handed the key to Draco and then gestured to the stairs on
the other side of the room.

Draco turned and looked pointedly at Harry, hoping he didn\'t say anything
before they got onto the stair case, at least. Even then, Harry didn\'t say
anything on the stairs, and waited until they were inside the room. Draco
made his way straight to the bed after unlocking and relocking the door, and
securing it with a locking charm as well. When he turned around, Harry was
just slipping into the toilet, but didn\'t shut the door tight behind
himself. He hadn\'t bothered with a translation spell when he heard the
language spoken, not wanting to embarrass them or anything. \"What did you
say to him?\"

\"Oh, how domestic,\" Draco mumbled to himself as he glanced at the door
again, setting the bag down beside the bed, and started the fire in the
fireplace with a flick of his wand. \"Inquired for a room, he asked how many
beds, I said one, he said alright,\" he recounted. \"I swear he thought I was
part veela, the way he was watching my hair and eyes; couldn\'t even look
straight in them.\"

\"Are you?\" Harry asked a bit warily as he came out from the bathroom. It
wouldn\'t be such a big leap to believe something like that, since the
physical features matched. He started to take his robes off, and tossed them
over the back of a chair in front of the fire place. Draco stood in front of
the fire, and had taken off his robes as well, and Harry could see the light
from the fire flashing over the blond, coloring it with streaks of pale red
and orange.

Draco crossed his arms and looked towards Harry, whose eyes were wide,
looking back at him. He let a small smirk come to his lips, and watched
Harry squirm. \"Yes,\" he said, and watched as Harry\'s jaw went slack as he
stared back at him. Draco moved to sit on the bed, and rested his elbows on
his knees, looking over to the other boy. \"Only a very small amount from my
father\'s side. About one twenty fourth, which is barely enough to give me
anything other than skin and hair color.\"

Harry nodded, mouth still open slightly. He would have considered it a bit
sexy if Draco were a larger part veela, but he was still attractive
otherwise, still due to the light tones. Standing from the chair, finding it
a bit too hot near the blazing fire, Harry walked around to the other side
of the bed. It was bigger than the last, which was better for stretching out
a bit more and not worrying about elbowing Draco in the face. They were
almost the same height, Draco a bit taller, and even though Draco seemed to
stay in pretty much the same spot during the night, Harry knew he didn\'t,
and he didn\'t want to think of how many times he\'s probably woken the other
boy up.

He also noticed that Draco always took the side away from the door leading
into the room. Harry didn\'t mind, but he thought it was a peculiar habit. If
he thought about it, it did make sense not to want to be the last one to the
door in case of an emergency, but Harry thought of it the other way: he
didn\'t want to be the first one someone got to when they came through the
door. That wasn\'t really a great philosophy to subject your lover to, but it
didn\'t really matter unless someone were after them, did it?

Draco had sat higher on the bed, leaning back against the head board. He
wasn\'t tired yet, but it felt good to sit there, the fire slowly warming the
cool room. He\'d have to take his shoes off in a moment, most likely followed
by his shirt, and maybe even his trousers, since he was tired of sleeping in
them. \"What about your mum, is she veela?\" Harry asked, trying to keep the
conversation going. It went well before, without nasty looks, or angry
words, so it might be a good idea to try it again. Harry started taking his
shoes off, and as Draco watched, his socks. Thank the lord, Draco thought,
watching Harry toss down the balls of fabric.

\"Mum\'s not, but I don\'t know about her ancestry. Obviously the male line is
diluted, thus proving there to only be such weak veela blood as in me and
any relatives that are directly in my father\'s line.\" Draco shifted some
when Harry climbed on the bed, but lifted the covers over top of himself.
He\'d kept his trousers on, so maybe Draco should, too. He had no idea if
Harry wanted to do anything, but he wasn\'t going to press. \"If there are any
other than me, they\'d be in France. That\'s where most of our family is.

\"My great grandfather moved to England, claiming it was more dignified than
France, but there aren\'t really a lot of them left there. With such an old
pureblood family, they haven\'t had much of a chance to branch off too much.
I think there\'s even a manor that belongs to my family somewhere in Germany.
Father took me there once, but we never went inside. It looked almost the
same as our manor in England, except it was in disuse.\"

Draco knew that Germany had a rather Dark past, and he knew where some of
his relatives here had ended up. It had mostly been before the Muggle wars,
according to the Malfoy family history books, of which Draco hadn\'t flipped
through in years. They either died in battles, or moved farther east, or to
England. Draco told Harry more of what he could remember of his relatives,
and he hardly noticed when he\'d slumped down to lie down on the bed on his
side, propped on an elbow, and facing Harry. \"Do you remember your parents?\"
Draco asked, bringing his other hand up to look at his nails. He didn\'t
really want to bring it up, but if he was talking about his father, he
wanted to at least branch the conversation off. They\'d definitely need a
good cleaning when they got back to Hogwarts, his nails.

Harry tensed. He was lying on his back, hands behind his head, and was about
to turn his head to look at the blond, but that was before he asked the last
question. Harry pulled his hands down, and rested them on his chest, his
elbow pressing against Draco\'s chest faintly. \"Not really,\" he admitted. No
one had really asked him that, and he didn\'t feel that bad saying it, though
it still reminded him of what he\'d never had. \"I remember the feelings,
though; of being safe and loved. If I didn\'t have pictures of them, I
wouldn\'t even know what they looked like.\"

\"I miss my father sometimes,\" Draco said quietly after a moment. He didn\'t
mean to bring up bad memories, but if they wanted to get to know each other,
which is what he assumed the conversation was for, they might as well get
the family stuff over to begin with. \"I\'d go see him, but visitors aren\'t
allowed inside the prison. I guess they reckon someone might try to release
prisoners from inside, considering what happened with Barty Crouch. I write
him sometimes, but he doesn\'t write back. I know he sends letters to my
mother, but she doesn\'t read them to me.\"

\"I\'m sorry,\" Harry whispered. He knew Draco could hear him, and he also had
no idea how well Draco would receive an apology for something like that.
Harry was a bit glad the topic of his parents had switched over to Draco\'s
own. He supposed he didn\'t mind answering the question, but he\'d rather hear
what Draco had to say. Everyone knew about Harry\'s parents, about his whole
life story, but he doubted more than two people knew about Draco\'s life. If
he\'d tell him, Harry would gladly listen.

\"Nothing to be sorry for,\" Draco said, and then almost as a whisper he
continued with, \"He loves me in his own way.\" He cleared his throat softly,
and shifted his weight off his arm, lying sideways on the bed. Draco barely
ever slept on his side, or even laid in the position, but it seemed better
to speak to Harry this way, more intimate, he thought. \"Mum says he asks
about me, but he still won\'t write back to me himself.\"

Harry wasn\'t sure what to say, so he stayed silent. He didn\'t particularly
care for the elder Malfoy in the slightest, and he was sure that point
wasn\'t lost on Draco, but at least it was reassuring to know that Lucius
cared for his son. Draco felt a bit bad to be speaking about his father so
much, when Harry had lost almost two of them. \"I\'m sorry lostlost your
godfather.\"

Harry\'s head snapped to look at the blond, and he supposed he shouldn\'realreally have been surprised Draco knew about it. It wasn\'t Draco\'s fault he
had lost Sirius, but if it wasn\'t for his father and the other Death Eaters,
Sirius would still be alive. \"I don\'t want to talk about it,\" Harry said,
holding back some of the anger that suddenly rushed to the surface. \"I don\'t
know much about my family\'s past, just what Sirius told me bef -- and what
Remus talks about,\" Harry said shortly. Draco watched the Gryffindor close
off, knowing Harry wanted him to just shut up now, and wondered if he\'d hit
him if he didn\'t stop drudging up painful memories.

Draco nodded, rustling the pillow under his head, and Harry\'s eyes looked a
little less enraged as Draco looked back into them. \"He was related to my
mother.\" What, did he not know when to stop? He didn\'t want to not say it,
though, since he had no idea if Harry knew. If he barely knew his biological
family, did he know anything much about the last, though now late, remnants
of his parents\' life?

\"I know,\" Harry replied not as tightly as before, but it was still obvious
he wasn\'t comfortable talking about this, really wanting the conversation
about Sirius to stop. \"He showed me his family tapestry once, you\'re - were
- his cousin.\"

\"Yeah,\" Draco breathed, and laid there silent for a moment. He couldn\'t keep
on with talking about Harry\'s family, not only was it so blatantly painful
for the other boy. He wondered if Harry had started thinking about his own
baby as \'family\' yet. That wasn\'t the main thing, though, because what about
the baby\'s father? Would Harry ever want to consider Draco family? He
doubted it would go as far as calling him a husband, or any type of marriage
like that sort, but he had to say they\'d passed from friends and lovers to
something a bit more. Or, if they hadn\'t passed lovers yet, they were
starting to get there, and both making an effort. That thought alone made
Draco tired. Slowly getting up from the bed, Draco pulled back the covers on
his own side, and joined Harry underneath them. \"I\'m going to sleep,\" Draco
said, quite knowing he was stating the obvious, but he couldn\'t bring
himself to care at the moment, as a yawn followed his words.

Glad the conversation was put to rest, so to speak, at least for the time
being, Harry agreed. \"I\'m completely knackered,\" he said, and with that, he
sat up and tugged his shirt off and tossed it to the floor beside the bed.
He laid down and pulled the sheets back up over his shoulder, getting
comfortable. Draco moved over some so Harry had a bit more room to situate
himself. Even though Harry was still a bit riled up emotionally at the
mention of his godfather, he moved closer to Draco. Draco almost raised an
eyebrow at the movement, Harry following him after he\'d moved to give the
other boy more room. Draco\'s arm had already been under the pillow, having
become a habit from the past couple nights, and Harry took advantage of
that, and shifted closer to the blond\'sy.
y.

It wasn\'t cold in the room, so it wasn\'t out of a need to keep warm; sharing
body heat and all that. Harry just liked sleeping next to someone, and Draco
was starting to realize that fact. Harry didn\'t quite feel right lying all
over Draco, and he was pretty sure Draco wasn\'t so keen about it either, but
he pressed as close as he could to the taller boy. Draco did what seemed to
feel almost normal, and he pulled his hand out and lifted it to settle
around Harry\'s shoulders again. It didn\'t take too long before Harry fell
asleep, but it was to an uncomfortable silence. Draco wasn\'t uncomfortable
being near Harry, but he couldn\'t help wondering if anything would turn
horribly wrong on this silly journey of theirs.

Besides the obvious dangers that lie ahead for both of , Dr, Draco had a lot
to think about. He hadn\'t actually thought of the word \'father\' being
applied to himself, and despite the entire conversation about his own, and
even Harry\'s, it\'d taken him this long to realize what his brain was getting
at. He was going to become a father. He couldn\'t stop that from marqueeing
across his thoughts, and he had no idea how he really felt about it either.
Maybe the uncomfortable silence was only in Draco\'s head, since that\'s the
only thing that felt awkward right now. Sleep finally over took the blond\'s
mind, but not before he managed to wonder what was going to happen when they
finally made it to Durmstrang; he just hoped they met up with Snape, and
were able to leave unscathed. There was something that wouldn\'t sit right
with Draco, and he knew it had to do with Harry. He knew he\'d leave
Durmstrang in one piece, due to his father\'s influence as a Death Eater, but
he had some rather large doubts about Harry, and it definitely didn\'t sit
right with him.

@>*~

The food there wasn\'t the most exquisite, but it didn\'t seem to be coming
back up. Lucius picked up his wand from beside his knife, and waved it at
the dishes. They disappeared, and then the man leaned back in his chair,
picking up his wine glass as he did so. He swirled the contents slightly
before taking a sip, and looking across the table to Lord Voldemort. The
Dark Lord stared back at Lucius before picking up his own glass, his plates
already dismissed. His appearance had come a long way over almost four
years, and he more resembled his looks from many years past. Though with
strands of grey streaked through his dark hair, his eyes retaining flecks of
red, Voldemort could still command fear throughout his followers.

The scar across his cheek had faded, but it was beyond the time it could
have been fixed with a simple spell. He\'d lost some weight, but that did not
matter. As long as he had control of his followers and things were going as
planned, he was pleased. Glancing over to his right, he saw Peter setting up
the chess board for another round with Lucius. In all actuality, he knew
Lucius hated playing against the other man, but there was not much else to
do in this castle. The day he\'d arrived, Voldemort had kept his robes on,
and observed the classes in the school. He didn\'t quite approve of the
methods that were being taught, but he supposed it was due to the fact that
these weren\'t actually all Dark wizards; they were simply being taught to
fight dirty.

He couldn\'t single out potential Death Eaters from two thirds of these
groups. Slytherin still had a much better turn out rate, though it was
certainly because of their parents\' loyalties. Hogwarts was a good school,
and being stupid and knowing how to use the Dark Arts didn\'t provide as much
knowledge to a student schooled in all aspects izarizardry. At least the
Castle of Durmstrang was an apt location to settle in for the time being,
warded beyond belief, even more so than Hogwarts, and much less people who
knew where it was found. Lucius had stood up from his seat, and moved to the
side table to begin a game with Peter. Voldemort had never much liked
playing the game, but he did enjoy watching.

It gave him time to think, and something to focus his eyes on, the restless
little pieces as the players contemplated their moves. Standing up himself,
Voldemort crossed to the table, hands clasped behind his back as he walked,
and came to stand between his most faithful servants, in front of the chess
board. Peter had moved first, and was eager to see if he could learn
anything from this round, perhaps. The man was still just as much of a
sniveling fool of a coward as the day he\'d betrayed Potter\'s parents, but
Voldemort didn\'t care about that, as long as Peter remained loyal to him.

Voldemort was about to sit down on the third chair at the smaller table,
when there came a knock at the door. Narrowing his eyes on the wooden
barrier, he gestured for Lucius to open the door. His servants had looked to
him as soon as the sound interrupted them, and neither of them seemed to be
expecting anything. Voldemort continued, taking his seat, and leaning back
comfortably as Lucius opened the door. Two of his Death Eaters stood there,
wearing heavy robes, and they immediately flipped their hoods down from
their faces. \"What?\" us sus snapped at them, seeming to know what they would
have to say.

The Dark Lord inclined his head, touching his finger tips to his chin, elbow
propped on the arm rest as he raised an expectant eyebrow at the two men.
They had looked to him, instead of Lucius, who had addressed them, but they
quickly looked back to the bl \"S \"Sir, your son was not found at
Hogsmeade,\" the first said, and Voldemort had no idea what his name was, and
couldn\'t be bothered to exert his power to find out at the moment, opting
for simply watching the interaction.

\"What do you mean he was not found?\" Lucius sneered, obviously not pleased
with that information. He stood from his seat to his full height, and
stepped towards the men, who had taken a step inside the room, and Lucius
slammed the doort wit with his wand. \"Are you trying to tell me, Nott,\"
Lucius began, \"that he stayed behind at Hogwarts for the weekend?\"

\"No,\" said Nott, and he refused to look away from the slowly becoming irate
man in front of him. \"We asked, and he wasn\'t at school, either.\"

\"You asked?\" Lucius asked calmly, almost sounding amused, and Nott nodded in
response. He inhaled slowly, and crossed his arms over his chest before
pursing his lips. \"Who did you ask?\" he questioned, trying a cruel smile on
his lips now, and it clearly worked wonders, as the men both stuttered
before they could come up with their answer. He raised an eyebrow at the two
of them, and when they fell silent, he prompted, \"Well?\"

\"Blaise Zabini.\"

\"Ah,\" Lucius said, turning his back to the men, who visibly relaxed, before
their eyes fell upon the other occupants of the room, or more precisely, one
in particular. Voldemort had a contemplative look on his face as he watched
them, and Lucius returned to his seat. \"Leave!\" he snapped at them again,
and they wasted no time at all to fling the door open and dart outside,
closing it gently behind themselves. Turning to the dark haired man to his
left, Lucius spoke. \"My Lord, would you summon Snape?\" Voldemort\'s eyes
drifted to meet Lucius\', and he nodded slowly, already doing what he
requested.

\"Zabini wouldn\'t lie,\" Lucius began, after he\'d moved a pawnoss oss the
board, \"and neither would his son. With his father in your employ, he
wouldn\'t take any chances.\" Voldemort looked away from Lucius, backback at
the board as the pawn moved, and then sliced it\'s small sword through one of
Peter\'s bishops. Then he looked to Peter, who had his entire face contorted
as he grew more and more frustrated by the second. Severus, in his room,
suddenly felt his arm burn, and he clamped his other hand down over top of
the Dark Mark.

The Potions professor cursed to himself, and stalked to his door, grasping
the handle and swinging it open. He closed his eyes as he walked through the
halls, knowing it would get him there faster. He was deathly aware that
there were no other footsteps around him; no others being summoned. It
wasn\'t all that uncommon for him to be called to a private meeting, usually
to be enlisted for making a potion for something or other. This didn\'t feel
like that was why he was being summoned, and he couldn\'t help but feel tense
as he walked through the halls. He came to stop at a large door, somewhere
half a floor below his own, and he knocked on it three times, then stood and
waited.

The door swung open and he definitely knew even before it was fully open,
just who was in the room. Snape saw Lucius looking back at him amiably, and
he gestured him into the room. He shut the door himself and walked towards
the table the three men sat at. Wormtail looked up at him briefly, and
averted his eyes back to the board. Voldemort nodded almost imperceptively,
but Snape knew, and he declined his head to the Dark Lord.

\"How is my son, Severus? Is he doing well at school?\" Lucius asked, as soon
as Snape had made it five steps into the room. Before he\'d reached the room,
Voldemort had created a fourth chair, and placed it exactly opposite of his
own, looking over the chess board. Snape sat down in the seat, and looked
over the board and the moves already made before answering.

\"I know nothing of his other classes except Transfiguration,\" Severus
answered curtly, \"but I can assure you he excels in Potions.\"

\"Well,\" Lucius began, \"that is good to hear.\" He picked up one of his
knights, and set it down half on the large square as one of Peter\'s pawns.
The black knight swung its mace up, and it fell down hard over top of the
small pawn, knocking it\'s body in half, crumbling onto the board. Peter
swore and pushed the ruined piece off the board, and Lucius\' knight took the
place for itself. e pre problem is, Severus, that no one seems to know where
the boy is.\"

Lucius turned to look at Severus, and Snape was excruciatingly aware that
Voldemort was staring at him as well. At least he\'d solidified his position
as a trusted Death Eater, when, last summer, he\'d participated in an attack
on some Aurors, and he had actually killed two of them. To say the least, it
had made him look good to the Dark Lord, and he really didn\'t want to
jeopardize that now, despite the fact that he\'d rather not be within a
thousand meters of the man. \"Is he not at school?\" Severus asked, forcing
himself not to look at the Dark Lord, knowing full well that Lucius had
implied that, and he shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes intently on
Snape\'s. Not to mention that Snape knew otherwise before even being called
to Voldemort\'s chambers. \"I had no idea,\" he lied, making himself sound
concerned for the other man\'s son, which he really was. \"Has he gone home to
his mother? It might be advised to send an owl to Narcissa before reaching
improper conclusions.\"

Lucius stared at him, temporarily forgetting the game he was winning. \"Yes,\"
he said thoughtfully, turning back to the chess game, and watching as Peter
moved his queen. He\'d spared the rat\'s piece, only for the entertant ont of
watching his face when he believed to be getting somewhere in the game,
other than losing.

\"Would it be better for Severus to write the letter?\" Voldemort asked, and
Snape looked at the man. He definitely was easier on the eyes than he was
last time he\'d been in his presence, and he wondered if it was due to some
kind of potion, or more Dark Arts at work. He felt a slight bit of
resentment at the thought of it being a potion, and Severus hadn\'t been
called to prepare it; perhaps it had to be brewed at one\'s own hand.
Voldemort wasn\'t looking at Lucius as he spoke, but rather at Severus,
boring into his eyes, and Snape knew what he was doing, staring right back.
\"After all, you shouldn\'t upset a beauty like that; she doesn\'t even know
you\'re outside of Azkaban, Lucius.\"

Voldemort grinned at the blond, and Lucius looked back at him questioningly,
but the dark haired wizard simply looked amused at something or other.
\"Perhaps,\" Lucius mused, then used his wand to summon a piece of parchment
for Snape to write on, which appeared in the professor\'s hand, and then the
chess board disappeared, leaving the table clear for Snape to write on.

\"Shit,\" Peter said, the first thing Snape had heard him say the entire time
he was in the room. He looked up curiously at the pudgy man, and Peter
looked back angrily, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back in
his chair. Snape picked up a quill from the desk had had also been created,
and he could just imagine Pettigrew looking quite pissed off at Lucius for
stopping the game, when he was just so close to getting better. Voldemort
looked vaguely disgusted at Peter\'s character at the moment, but then he
directed his attention to Snape, who had begun writing on the parchment.

\'Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy,

I am writing to inform you, on behalf of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry, that your son, Draco Malfoy, has been absent from school
since the weekend, Saturday the 12th of November. It is advisable to send
a letter to the Headmaster, inquiring for any further information regarding
your son\'s location. Be assured he is safe, merely absent. I will contact you
again if I hear word from Draco.

Severus Snape.\'

Snape sat straight in his chair, and set the quill down. It was clearly for
Narcissa to assume that Snape himself was not even at the school, thus
providing her with the knowledge that he was somewhere during a school week.
mighmight even assume that Draco was trying to follow him, though if Snape
didn\'t know better, that\'s certainly what he would have thought, but for
Merlin knew why. \"My Lord,\" Snape began, before either of the other men had
a chance to say anything more, \"could I ask the delay when you summoned us?\"

\"It was most unfortunate to keep you waiting, though my assistance was
needed elsewhere,\" Voldemort said, his voice low, and he made a gesture to
the men on either side of him, Lucius and Peter. He considered elaborating,
if he should tell Severus any more or not, knowing he still had the
potential to turn around and whisper it into that old fool\'s ear. Though,
his display of loyalty at the last attack warranted him to regard the man
with a renewed respect. When Voldemort addressed them the other night, he
hadn\'t provided any information, and if nothing else, he knew Severus was a
curious one. \"After I heard of Lucius\' incarceration, I saw fit to persuade
the Dementors back into the fold.

\"They now obey my command, and Azkaban has now been transformed into my own
high security prison, without any Ministry officials the wiser,\" Voldemort
continued. Snape wanted to gape at that information, knowing that the wards
were now the equivalent to Muggle revolving doors for any of the Dark Lord\'s
followers, and he would go as far as to assume a special little kiss was
reserved for anyone that was caught in the clutches of the Dark Lord, who
had been ever so unfortunate to have defied him in the past. \"I had sent
Peter to relieve Lucius of his bonds, to bring him here, but he... failed,\"
Voldemort finished, casting an appraising look at Peter, who uncrossed his
arms and looked a bit ashamed of himself.

As Voldemort spoke, Severus knew he was only taking things at face value for
the moment, but if there was any unease showing on his features, which he
wasn\'t so sure of at the time, the Dark Lord wouldn\'t hesitate to delve
further, to seek out the reason for the insecurity. That would not be a good
thing, and Snape knew that very well. It seemed the man was finished
speaking, and they fell into silence; Lucius inspected his nails, and Peter
shifted in his chair, wondering if he should say something or not. Voldemort
kept his eyes on Snape, who had dropped his eyes to read over the letter
he\'d written, yet making sure to keep his mind as blank as he could, to
relax himself.

Voldemort then looked to Lucius, wishing he could tell the man that his son
was, at this very moment, with none other than Harry Potter himself. Now, he
thought to himself, how did this fit together? The son of his most loyal
follower was going beyond his duty, and that of most of the Death Eaters
already in his ranks, and was leading Harry right to him. Or, could he be
coming for an ulterior reason? Draco would most assuredly be welcome to
Peter\'s position in the Dark Lord\'s inner circle, since he was already
starting to prove his worth, being a good little Death Eater and bringing
Potter to him, and in a weakened state, no less.

Oh, yes, he\'d seen as much in Severus\' mind, despite the twists and turns to
find the information. All he wasn\'t sure of, though, is how precisely the
boy was weakened. The silence was beginning to bore Severus, and he was sure
he had no more reason to be in the room with the Dark Lord, his right hand,
or his lap dog. \"Shall I send the letter?\" he asked, picking the parchment
up from the table. It was dry by now, and was in no danger of smearing if it
was rolled up.

\"Very well,\" Lucius said, distracted now by the new game, and not even
bothering to look at Snape, or wave him out of the room. Snape couldn\'t
fathom why a man such as Lucius Malfoy would play chess with such an
incompetent as Pettigrew, but what else was he to do in a place like this?
Even Snape had grown tired of drinking, and he certainly wasn\'t going to let
his guard down due to alcohol now that Voldemort had already searched his
mind. He knew the Dark Lord houndoundethiething, hopehopefully Snape still
had a few plausible excuses up his sleeve, which he hoped to perfect as he
made his way to the owlery. He\'d write a short letter to Lupin while there,
and send it with the same owl, so it wouldn\'t be so obvious.

@>*~