Bonds of Affection

They had left Gordic\'s Hollow behind, and Apparated at an unplottable location. The old castle towered near a hill, grey stone walls contrasting against the cloudless sky. Voldemort and Pettigrew walked together, Lucius and Bellatrix, following closely. Severus trailed behind them, still without his wand, but no longer caring – at least, not especially. Alongside him, Draco walked absently, kicking dirt with his feet.



“That\'s a fucked way to die,” Draco whispered quietly.



Severus glanced at him briefly. “That\'s what happens, when you disappoint the Dark Lord,” he said noncommittally.



Draco flashed him a crooked smile. “Geesh, Godfather, for a few seconds there, I actually began to think that you cared for him.”



“Think again,” Severus said sharply. “People like us don\'t care. We go through the motions, we pretend that we do, and at times, we can even delude ourselves. But at the end of the day, we are Dark. There\'s no goodness, or caring, or affection in us. Light and Darkness don\'t live together.”



Draco shrugged. “Whatever,” he muttered.



They continued walking. Severus thought of Harry again. The wand, buried in the top of the coffin was his only chance. He could have survived it, Severus thought – even being blind and voiceless, and bound. Even though Severus could not warn him, or explain to him what he had done – he was certain that Harry could figure it out. Harry knew the prophecy, after all. But the sleeping potion... that was an unexpected complication. That would keep him sedated, unaware of his predicament, until the air ran out... until he died in his sleep. Severus sighed deeply, as despair coursed through him once more.



Draco looked up at him sideways. “He was my age,” he said quietly.



“Two months your junior, actually,” Severus said automatically. “What does it matter?”



Draco bowed his head. “I didn\'t think it was going to be like this,” he muttered finally. “Not... you know... someone like... my age... going down like that...”



Unrestrained fury swept through Severus, and he allowed it, allowed nearly two decades of repressed emotions to pour forth. Enraged, no longer caring about his cover, he grabbed Draco\'s wrist and squeezed it harshly, nearly crushing it. Draco gasped from the pain, but did not cry out.



“Idiot,” Severus spat with contempt. “You stupid, dimwitted, arrogant, good-for-nothing... child! Running around with your Inquisitorial Squad... Bragging about your Dark Mark... spying, bullying, spewing your pathetic insults at whoever crosses your path... while pissing yourself in fear when someone actually gets an upper hand with you. What did you think it was going to be like here?” Severus\' fingers dug into Draco\'s skin, leaving bruises. “Did you expect chocolate frogs? Basketfulls of puppies to pet? Or pretty girls, lining up to give you blow jobs? This is just the beginning of sunset. It will get darker. And you\'d better get used to it. Because if you don\'t, you will be buried six feet under. And no-one will care, or shed a tear, or remember your face, or your name; not even your own father. Because he knows better than to love someone more than he loves the Dark Lord.” Severus released Draco\'s hand abruptly, and he clutched it with a stifled whimper.



Severus chuckled unpleasantly.



Draco\'s breathing became uneven and labored. For a moment, it looked like he was going to sob.



Severus glared at him coldly. “Don\'t worry, Draco. You will do fine here. You belong with the rest of us. I heard you laughing when he was whipped, bleeding, near fainting. Your hate... it\'s actually quite remarkable. He was nearly in a coma after barely spending an hour in the same room with you. You are a worthy addition to the Dark Lord\'s circle. Don\'t question yourself, I certainly don\'t. ”



“That\'s different,” Draco hissed.



“No,” Severus with certainty. “You only think it is because your sensibilities have not been trained yet to accept and enjoy the harsher realities of our life. But not to worry. You will adjust soon enough. A year from now, you will laugh at the thought of someone suffocating in their grave.”



Draco\'s lips moved soundlessly for a minute. Then he looked up at Severus, and said in a muted whisper,



“I want out.”



Severus stopped in his steps, looking down at Draco with a mixture of pity and disdain. He grabbed his sleeve and rolled it up, exposing his Mark.



“You think this is some sort of Muggle tattoo that you can remove at your whim?” he hissed viciously. “This is permanent. You can\'t run from it, no more than you can run from your own skin. This,” he said, pointing to the grey castle ahead of them, “is where you belong, for as long as the Dark Lord lives.”



Draco bit his lip and glanced own. “Help me,” he said pitifully. “Get me out of here. Save me.”



Severus chuckled. “You are asking me? Why don\'t you go talk to your father about your teenage identity crisis. I am sure he will help.”



Draco issued a deep breath. “If I talk to him, I may as well get ready to be buried alive myself,” he muttered.



“Perhaps you should run,” Severus said humorlessly. “See if anyone notices.”



Draco shot him a dirty look. “Are you going to help, or are you just going to taunt?”



Severus laughed a little. “What do you think?”



Draco sighed deeply. “Well... I think you are mostly going to taunt; and talk to me in a way that will enable you to deny sympathizing with me should something go wrong. But I hope you are also going to help.”



“You just keep believing that,” Severus said with a thin smile. “If you are lucky enough, maybe I\'ll make you some sleeping potion you can drink before being buried alive.”



“Thanks,” Draco muttered. “Just what I always wanted.”



“Naturally,” Severus said almost neutrally. “Most people want to die peacefully in their sleep.”



Draco glanced at him, and then whispered something under his breath... something that nearly made Severus jump out of his skin.



“What?” Severus snapped harshly.



“I said, I woke him,” Draco whispered. “Before we left.”



Severus could not believe his ears. “What?” he repeated.



“I\'m an expert at nonverbal spells,” Draco said, a little tersely. “I just used Rennervate.”



Severus still could not believe it. “Why?” he demanded.



Draco turned away. “You wouldn\'t understand.”



Even though relief and hope were flooding him, Severus regarded his godson with loathing. “I suppose I can guess. You wanted your rival to spend the last moments of his life in terror, clawing at his coffin from the inside. Nicely done.”



“Sure, whatever,” Draco said tiredly. “I\'ll just leave you alone.” He hastened his pace, leaving Severus behind.



Severus grunted a little, and then caught up with him, placing his hand on Draco\'s shoulder.



“Tell me,” he offered, a little sardonically.



“Respect,” Draco said. “That\'s all.”



“Respect,” Severus echoed. “For the love of Merlin, Draco, you can do better than that. You\'ve spent the entire past year at Hogwarts hunting him down, trying to cause him as much misery as humanly possible...”



Draco shrugged. “You only hunt what you respect. You hunt lions and bears. Nobody hunts slugs or worms.”



Severus stared at his godson speechlessly. Draco returned his gaze without wavering. “If it was me down there, I would have preferred to just sleep through my own death. I would not want to know. I wouldn\'t want to spend my last hour pissing myself from fear, knowing that I am suffocating. Potter would want to know. He doesn\'t care about being afraid. He would want to know if he was dying, and how. Even if it scared him shitless.” Draco lowered his eyes and shrugged. “I guess I should be talking about him in past tense.”



Severus did not reply. He squeezed Draco\'s shoulder slightly, and they hastened their pace, to catch up with the rest of their party, walking in front of them.



To Be Continued....