A New Spy

Severus sat in the regal study of his former friend, a snifter of brandy held lazily in one hand. The midafternoon sunlight was trying desperately to break through the looming clouds overhead. Lucius was seated directly opposite him, one hand lazily caressing the silver-headed serpent cane at his side and the other holding a similar snifter. He was unperturbed; this was his manor, and inside it he was the king.

"So... what brings you here, Severus?" Lucius drawled, as though he were making small talk with a peasant.

"Is it so surprising that I have missed you, friend?" Severus replied, matching Lucius's drawl almost perfectly. He knew how to play this game, and Lucius was no different from the other cretins within the Dark Lord's ranks: always fighting amongst themselves for supremacy and lifting themselves up in their own minds to become the most significant individuals in the world. The sad thing was that most of them believed this delusion. Lucius had money and his own belief in his superiority, but Severus couldn't help thinking that without his wealth he would be nothing to the Dark Lord.

Lucius looked over at his friend and smiled. "No, I suppose not," he said, the ghost of a smile upon his lips.

"I trust Narcissa is well? It has been much too long since I have seen your lovely wife. Where is she today?" Severus watched Lucius's face for any hint that something was wrong.

Lucius stared at Severus for a full thirty seconds before answering, "Yes, very well. She is here, of course; however, she is in no state to entertain and is currently resting, I am afraid. Being a lady of leisure can be quite taxing on a delicate creature like my Cissy. I will let her know you inquired as to her well being."

Severus caught a shift to the left in Lucius's eyes, an explicit sign that he was lying. Even the most practised liars can give themselves away by a subtle flicker of movement that would go unnoticed by all but the most observant. And Severus was very perceptive to even the most obscure cues – the ones that let him know if a man or woman was undeniably lying through their teeth.

Severus felt an uneasiness creep into his very soul. This was not the same man he had known a year ago, and it irked him to think he had once considered Lucius his closest friend.

"How are you coping with the brats and that fool of a Headmaster at the school?" Lucius asked, changing the subject.

"As well as can be expected," Severus answered, swirling the brandy around with a graceful hand. "The students are becoming more dim-witted as the days go by. I have found myself wishing your son were back at school, if only for the creative answers he would give."

Lucius nodded his head once.

"Where is the boy?" Severus asked. "I have to congratulate him for the raid he performed last week. I hear that it went well. You should be proud of him."

Lucius puffed out his chest a little, a look of pride taking the place of his indifference.

"I am," he replied shortly, "although he was nothing like me at his age, but he will soon learn his way, as we all do."

They settled once more into silence, each man lost to his own thoughts. Severus was pondering all the questions that Lucius had sidestepped, which in itself was a telling sign. Lucius was a close confidant of the Dark Lord; he knew this, and he realised there was no way to salvage their once comfortable friendship.

He mentally sighed as he sipped his brandy.

Severus stayed in Lucius's study for another fifteen minutes before standing and making his excuses to leave.

Making his way off the grounds of Malfoy Manor and into the crisp air, Severus left with more questions than he had answers. However, he now felt sure that Lucius had killed Narcissa; to what end he was not sure, and he highly doubted he would be able to probe any further to find out the reasons behind it.

Being in the Dark Lord's favour was always a precarious position at best; he had seen many followers rise, but from that peak there was only one way to go, down. Severus didn't want suspicion to be laid upon his shoulders, especially with no proof.

If the Dark Lord knew of Lucius's treachery, he didn't care, and that made Severus shiver inside, something he could blame on the cool air if he didn't question himself too closely. What was it that Lucius was doing for the Dark Lord? They had seemed a little too close at the last meeting when he had taken Mundungus away. Though he knew now, beyond any reasonable doubt, that the wizard was dead, it was unlikely that they would ever find a body to lay to rest.

He hoped that Draco would not do anything rash in his need for retribution. Severus knew how much he adored his mother, Narcissa, but he also knew the boy to be cunning, as he had taught him for seven years and had watched him grow before he came to Hogwarts.

He pondered this as he Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. Whatever the answers were, he was not privy to them, and he could take it no further with Lucius, or the Dark Lord, at this point.

***

Severus sat in his dark chambers, the fire his only source of light. Winter was almost upon them, and he felt the cold down here in the dungeons more than any other place within the castle. He felt at peace in the dark; he trusted it, considered it a friend. He could not be ridiculed in the darkness, for few creatures could see him within its embrace.

His thoughts turned dark as a scowl took up residence on his face. Severus felt, beyond a doubt, that Lucius Malfoy – a wizard he had once counted as a friend – had killed his wife Narcissa.

How could a man do that to the woman he had spent the better part of twenty years with?

He just couldn't seem to wrap his mind around this concept.

After his unexpected meeting with Draco the night before, he had revealed his private chambers to Harry Potter in the hope of never being caught off guard again. Draco had figuratively thrown him through a Quidditch hoop by showing up uninvited to his Potions classroom. When the young man had revealed to Severus the true reason for his visit, it had hit him like a Bludger to the head, and only his years of spying had controlled the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him.

Harry had come down to his chambers at first light demanding answers for which he had no response. Not that he didn't want to tell Harry the truth as he knew it; it was simply that he had yet to come up with a plan of action. He had reassured the Chosen One as to why Draco had come to his office, telling the boy what had been discussed. He felt no need to coddle the young man as many others had, and had told him outright how Draco, Harry's nemesis, had suspected his own father of killing his mother.

A look of understanding had crossed Harry's face as he listened. It didn't take a Legilimens to decipher that he had felt empathy towards Draco.

Harry had lost both of his parents before he had really known them, a pain that was still evident in the boy. He had looked green when the Potions master had described Draco's concerns, and he couldn't quite look Severus in the eye.

Severus's mind was reliving the events over and over again. He saw no way that he could possibly have stopped them, and he cursed out loud as he felt the telltale signs of a headache starting to form beneath his temples. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, his mind replayed the scene he had witnessed this very morning.

Harry had sat in his private study, a look of bewilderment on his face. Severus had just concluded his tale and looked up to find that the boy had turned pale; his hands were shaking slightly as they sat in his lap.

Although Harry had never liked Draco, the mutual loathing that had formed between the two of them had as much to do with blood status and House rivalry as it did with any personal issues.

However, he did not wish Draco true harm and knew something of what he must be feeling because of his own situation. But to have one parent kill another – that was unfathomable.

"What happens now?" Harry asked, bringing his head up to meet that of the wizard who was sitting directly opposite him.

"What do you mean?' Severus enquired, perplexed at the lad's question.

"I mean, what happens with Draco?" Harry asked, grimacing at having used his adversary's name so forthrightly. It was usually 'Malfoy' or 'Ferret', but never 'Draco'. Harry looked up at his professor's face, his green eyes probing; Severus found he couldn't look away.

"We wait," Severus replied, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

Harry, not one to sit idly by and watch as injustice took place right under his nose, even if it were to Draco, jumped up suddenly.

Severus raised both his eyebrows, but Harry was undeterred.

"What do you mean, we wait? How can you be so unsympathetic?" he yelled, clenching his fists into a ball to prevent himself from slamming them onto the desk at which the dark-haired professor sat. Severus looked unnaturally calm.

"And what do you propose we do? Go to Malfoy Manor with pitchforks and torches, and demand that Mr Malfoy come out, and when he doesn't, threaten to burn the place to the ground?"

Harry could hear the sarcasm rolling off his voice in thick waves. "Anything is better than just sitting here doing nothing," Harry said sullenly. He deflated somewhat, realising that his demands were unreasonable.

"You are not ready for that, Harry." Severus spoke in a calm voice. "We have to wait and see what Draco will do. He will either come to the Headmaster, or stay on the same path as his father, and neither you nor I can make that choice for him."

"I know," Harry breathed out forcefully. Wearily, he sat back down.

"Do you trust Draco to do the right thing?" Harry looked into the black eyes of his teacher and friend. He thought, at times, that the Potions master's eyes gave a hint of some of the emotion he was feeling, although the rest of his face was an impassive mask.

"I trust him enough to do what he feels is best. You forget he was brought up with two Slytherin parents who taught him from the cradle to act, walk and talk like a Slytherin."

"No," Harry interrupted, "what I mean to say is, do you trust him?" Harry still looked into Severus's eyes, an imploring gaze on his face. Severus felt that everything hinged on the answer he would give.

"Yes," he breathed out without thinking, and the conviction in Severus's voice was enough answer for Harry.

"If you trust Draco, Severus, then so do I," Harry said forcefully, as though he were making a public statement of his belief in the Potions master.

The shock of such a comment must have registered in Severus's face for he saw a frown crease the young man's forehead.

"What? Don't you believe me?" Harry asked. He suddenly sounded insecure, as though he were not sure of the relationship between himself and his professor.

Quickly rushing to reiterate what he intended to say, he added, "I mean, I trust you. There, I said it. God knows why, as you are still such a git, but you have been honest with me, which is more than I can say for some of the others." A hard glint entered his normally soft, green eyes, and it didn't take a genius to work out that he was referring to the headmaster.

Severus just nodded his head briefly, as though it were a normal occurrence for anyone, besides his own Slytherins, to put their trust in him. His heart swelled in the knowledge of how far their relationship had truly come, from adversaries to trustworthy allies. Severus made a promise to himself: he would not let down the Boy Who Lived, even if it meant sacrificing his own life.

***

With Narcissa out of the picture, Lucius had much more time on his hands to spend with his slave. He had never felt so carefree in his life. Certainly, he had other slaves, but the Mudblood was his favourite, although he had to remind himself that if he were not successful in asking his Lord for the boon of saving her life, then he would have to do without her.

This thought brought on a level of protectiveness he had never before shown towards any of his previous slaves, and he vowed to himself that he would make her pay for this weakness she had caused in him, although it was through no fault of her own.

He had ordered a small number of his many house-elves to arrange the disposal of the body of his late wife. He wondered where they had placed it. It didn't really matter to him, as all of his house elves were deathly frightened of him, ensuring their loyalty to only him, and he made sure that they remained so. They would keep their silence or be given clothes. Lucius made a point of reminding them of their service to him and him only, the Master of the Manor.

Lucius walked with a new spring in his step and often found himself whistling when he reached the Mudblood's door.

No, that will never do; Malfoys don't whistle, he thought idly to himself.

He had had to erect an enchantment upon the Mudblood's cell after his run in with Narcissa. The blood lust had been too great and he had taken it out on his slave, almost killing her in the process. He knew his Lord would exact revenge upon his person if he ever went so far, and so he had placed this enchantment upon her cell, one that would still his body when his slave was close to death. It was purely for self-preservation.

Something that was puzzling him deeply was his old friend, Severus. He had not come to the Manor in quite some time, a year if he remembered correctly, and to show up almost three weeks after his late wife had left this earthly plane – well, it was just a little too much of a coincidence for his liking. He would keep an eye on his comrade and see if there were any signs that he suspected that something untoward had happened to Narcissa.

As he made his way down to the cell which held the Mudblood, his mind abruptly went blank as his needs made themselves known once more. Adjusting himself within his too-tight trousers, he quickly raised his wand to the door and felt the telltale tingle on his left forearm as the wards came down and the heavy door opened before him.

***

For more than a month, Draco had been fighting off his own personal demons, going through an internal struggle with his principles and his sense of right and wrong. That is why, on a Saturday night precisely two months after his talk with his godfather, he was standing in the headmaster's office, looking around with wide eyes at the various contraptions that littered his office.

He had chosen this night, as there were essentially no students around. Most of them were at home with their loving parents, tucked into their nice cosy beds, awaiting Christmas. Draco scoffed at this thought as he took in the wall to his right where there was the collection of the past headmasters's and headmistress's portraits. Most were feigning sleep, but some were staring at him openly with a look of distrust, as if he might get up at any moment and trash the place. He wondered for a moment what they would do if he did precisely that.

Smiling a knowing smile to himself, he grinned lazily at the portraits. He felt uneasy inside, but outwardly he looked calm and collected. This was by far the hardest decision he had had to make in his life, and it weighed heavily on his shoulders.

A squawk in the corner startled Draco, and he jumped, turning his attention to the phoenix that was occupying the perch in the corner of the office. It eyed him warily as though it were sizing him up. Before he could examine the creature further, a door appeared in the wall next to the perch, and Draco saw the headmaster strolling through.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Dumbledore said as he made his way around his impressive desk and took a seat. He held up one hand and motioned towards the seat that was directly opposite him.

Draco was frozen to the spot and thought that he must have looked like an incompetent child instead of the confident man he wished to portray.

"Take a seat, Mr Malfoy," the headmaster said with a grandfatherly smile on his face when Draco made no effort to move.

Draco hastily came to his senses and took the seat that the headmaster was motioning towards. However, he did not relax and sat on the chair's edge, waiting to jump up at a moment's notice.

"Now, what can I do for you?"

Draco looked up into the old man's face. Dumbledore's hands were steepled in front of him, and he had a look of curiosity on his face. He took a deep breath in to begin; his mouth suddenly felt dry, and he longed for a glass of Firewhisky to steady his nerves.

"Lucius killed my mother," he blurted out, not knowing where the words came from, but he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his chest. Draco could no longer think of his father in any other way except by his first name. Even within himself he found this disturbing, but it was the only way of distancing himself from the atrocities that Lucius had performed and would continue to carry out unless he was stopped. Draco considered he had lost both his parents the night his mother had been killed.

The headmaster's eyes went wide and his eyebrows threatened to leave his face.

"I want a way out," Draco hurriedly continued before he lost his nerve, "a way out of the Death Eaters. I just want to live my life for me."

Dumbledore stared back at him with a gentle expression. He understood what Draco must be feeling; it was perfectly obvious from the empathy in his blue eyes.

"Draco, you know this is not possible," the headmaster started, "as I am sure you are aware from the brand on your arm."

Draco's right hand came up and clamped over his left forearm, a mixture of loathing and pleading showing on his face.

"Please, Headmaster," Draco pleaded, "I know I wasn't the model student in my time here, but if there is any way you can reverse this, I would be willing to lay my life on the line to have a chance at a future."

Draco didn't know where this verbal declaration had come from, and he was forced to admit to himself that it was nothing but the truth, even though he hadn't come here today to beg and plead like a commoner. Instead, he was going to offer up his services to the headmaster if it was the only way out. He knew that the Dark Lord could find him anywhere, and running to another continent wasn't an option. But it seemed as if the old man was going to turn him away.

Draco felt his eyes watering and quickly swiped at them with the back of his hand.

"I am not going to lie to you, Draco. The avenue which you desire will be fraught with danger; it may even cost you your life. But if you are sincere in wishing to follow this path, your soul may very well be saved, and you can undo some of the damage that has already occurred." The headmaster looked at Draco with seriousness. Draco no longer had the feeling that he was talking to someone's senile old grandfather. In the place of the old man sat a wizard of immense power.

Draco nodded his head slowly, knowing that this path he was about to agree to would either save him or kill him. His life was already forfeit if he continued on the course he was currently pursuing. This way, if he were to die, he could redeem himself in the eyes of his mother.

"If you are sure..." Albus let the question linger in the air between them, pushing up his glasses, which were threatening to slide off his nose.

Draco nodded his head once more, determination entering his steel grey eyes as he did so.

Dumbledore stood from behind his desk and Draco went to do the same.

"Sit," the headmaster said, looking over at Draco, who complied without a second thought. He watched the old wizard as he walked towards the fireplace and grabbed a pinch of Floo powder from the box that was sitting on the mantle.

Draco swallowed nervously. He wasn't sure what the headmaster was up to. Would he call the Aurors now to take him away to Azkaban? His head swung around, looking for a way out of the office before they could come and capture him. It was then that he heard a name that made his head turn abruptly towards the fireplace, and he froze as if in a trance. Severus Snape. What did he have to do with this? Did the headmaster not know that he was a Death Eater who was loyal to no one but himself?

All these thoughts ran through his head in the seconds it took Severus to step through the Floo and into the office.

Severus looked upon the scene before him. He was slightly shocked to see the boy in the headmaster's office so soon, but he made sure not to show it.

"You called, Albus," he drawled as he stepped into the office, brushing imaginary ash off his pristine robes.

"Yes, my boy," Albus countered as he once more took up his seat behind the desk. "It seems young Mr Malfoy here wants to deflect from the path he is currently on and has come here tonight to ask for a way out."

Severus's head snapped towards Draco, who sat up straighter in his chair.

"Is this true?" Severus asked, as though he needed to hear it from Draco himself.

"Yes, sir," Draco replied, struggling with himself to remain calm.

"I see," was the only response that Draco got as the Potions master came and took the seat next to him.

Draco blinked; he didn't remember seeing a chair there a second ago, but he dismissed this thought as his head turned once more to the wizard beside him.

"And what precisely would you have me do with this information?" Severus asked the headmaster.

"Nothing of course. I needed someone that the boy trusts to do the binding spell with, and you were the only logical choice."

Severus huffed as he folded his long arms across his chest.

"Come now, Severus, think of the information the boy could provide."

Draco's head shifted towards the headmaster as his eyes widened.

"I don't like it," Severus stated as he frowned.

"Well, that is not your decision to make, now is it, Severus? The boy came to me asking for a way out, and this is the only rational answer that I have for him," the old man said, his eyebrows challenging.

"Could you both stop talking about me like I am not sitting right here?" Draco said, anger clouding his voice.

Both men looked over towards him. "I am sorry, Draco," the headmaster said as he smiled towards him. Draco could now see why most thought of him as a sympathetic, even amiable old man, but he wasn't convinced of that; not after what he had just witnessed. Why else would the Dark Lord fear this wizard above all others, if there were not more to the story?

"Now Draco, I cannot blindly trust you, as much as I wish that were possible. Therefore, I must ask you to take an Unbreakable Vow. Severus will be our bonder, but ultimately you will be pledging your alliance to me, as head of the Order of the Phoenix."

Draco sat in shock as the seconds ticked by. An Unbreakable Vow? He had read about them and knew that there was no escaping the Vow once it had been agreed upon. You either fulfilled the task or died breaking it. It was true that he wanted to leave the Death Eaters and get away from the lunatic he had to call Lord, but he wasn't sure he wanted to answer to yet another demanding master. He suddenly felt very small as he realised that this was what his godfather had been doing for the better part of his life. Severus's words: "I am on no one's side but my own" rang in his ears once more, and he found himself sympathising with him.

He no longer wanted to follow the road paved with Lucius's expectations. He would not follow Lucius down that path. He knew what he had to do. He would make the Unbreakable Vow.

Draco looked up into the blue eyes of the headmaster and nodded his head. He didn't quite trust his voice to come out as firmly as he wanted it to.

Severus laid a hand on his arm, and his head spun around to face him.

"Draco, are you sure about this? You are aware that you will follow the Headmaster's commands unquestioningly, and if you fail to do so, it will result in your death?"

Draco raised his eyes from the hand that was clamped over his right arm and looked into the penetrating black eyes of his godfather. It was as though he were somehow trying to tell Draco something more, though what it was, Draco could not fathom.

"I am," Draco replied, blinking once.

Severus removed his hand then, and there was a rustle of movement as the headmaster stood up from behind his desk.

"Excellent. Shall we begin?" Dumbledore asked. When both wizards nodded, he moved to the rug before the fireplace. Kneeling down on the thick rug, Albus lifted his head towards the two wizards, his face no longer looking aged and decrepit. Instead, in its place was the aspect of a powerful wizard.

"Now, Draco, if you would kneel in front of me, we shall begin." Draco shook his head in disbelief at what he was about to do, but as if on autopilot, he stood and knelt down facing the headmaster. His mind was strangely blank, almost as if he were under the Imperius Curse.

"Join your right hand with mine," Albus continued as he grasped Draco's hand in his until they were linked firmly together. Draco was surprised by the strength that was in the headmaster's hand, but quickly shed this thought as he looked up into the rich, blue eyes of the prominent wizard before him.

Severus stood before both wizards, facing the fireplace. The fire was casting both light and shadow on their faces, and Severus was momentarily caught up watching the light play across the face of his young godson. Shaking himself mentally, he flicked his wand out of his right sleeve, holding it upright.

Draco felt suddenly very nervous about what was about to take place. He swallowed past the lump in his throat as he stared into the eyes of the headmaster, not even daring to blink.

"If we are ready to begin...," Severus stated curtly, and both men nodded their heads in agreement.

Draco took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out his mouth as he tried to calm his rapidly beating heart.

Severus thought to himself that he should have known that the old man was expecting this turn of events and figuratively kicked himself for not having prepared Draco for such an event; not that he had seen the boy since that night almost two months ago.

Another one of your plans, Albus? I truly hope you know what you are doing.

Severus was brought back to the room by Albus's rich voice. "Do you, Draco Malfoy, promise to uphold the beliefs of the Order of the Phoenix, striving for the downfall of Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort?"

"I do," Draco responded, never breaking eye contact with Dumbledore, even when Severus's wand touched their linked hands and a red rope-like substance wound its way out of the wand, binding their hands together. It made it impossible for Draco to pull away from the headmaster and break the bond.

"And do you promise never to impart any of the secrets of the Order to anyone but myself or our bonder, Severus Snape?" Albus continued. Draco was still looking into his eyes, not daring to blink.

"I do." Another red rope joined the first, further binding their clasped hands together.

"Do you promise to follow the Order and myself, never questioning when given a direct order from me, the Order's leader?"

Severus's head snapped over to look at the headmaster as he realised that he was stating almost word for word the vow he had made Severus take twenty years ago. Severus frowned at the old man. He was shaken back into reality by Draco's reply of, "I do," as it rang through the otherwise quiet office.

Touching his wand once more to their entwined hands, he watched as another red rope slithered its way around their hands, working its way up to their wrists and finally settling up their arms. After the glow dissipated, Severus clapped his hands together, and the bond of red ropes disappeared, giving both wizards use of their right arms. Severus sneered toward Albus as both figures got to their feet.

It was true that when Severus himself had made the Vow with the headmaster, he had been nervous and would have agreed to anything that had been asked of him. He had nothing to live for at that point in his life.

He was woken from his musings when an aged hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Severus," the owner of the hand said, and Severus unexpectedly felt unclean; he needed to be gone from this place as he was assaulted by the memories of his own Vow.

He shot the headmaster a foul look, and shaking off his hand, Severus whirled around to face the occupants of the room.

"If that is all, I believe I shall retire for the evening. I have a most delicate potion brewing, and if I hurry back it may be salvaged. Good evening, Mr Malfoy." He nodded his head in Draco's direction. "Headmaster," he said, repeating the action before seizing a pinch of Floo powder and disappearing into the fire.

Draco's head swam with the repercussions of what had just happened and what he had agreed to. He would have to go to Knockturn Alley and purchase a Pensieve to view the memory once more and see what he had got himself into. His family name was still viewed with trepidation in the Alley, and he could count on the various shady characters not to mention a word to anyone of his purchase. He was sure that Lucius had his own Pensieve, but he wouldn't want anyone, least of all the Dark Lord, to find out what had occurred this evening.

Although he had made up his mind that he would bring down his father and the madman he followed, he hadn't really thought of the ramifications of changing sides. After all, it did happen rather abruptly, and Draco felt as though he had been tricked into doing something that he normally would not have done had he had some time to think about all the options. But really, what other options were there, besides ending his own life? He had already made up his mind that he wanted nothing to do with Lord Voldemort or Lucius ever again, but one does not simply give up on being a Death Eater and expect to live.

He needed to lie down, preferably in his own bed, and think about what had just transpired. He wouldn't know what he had truly done until he got hold of a Pensieve and viewed his own memories of the Unbreakable Vow.

All that he was certain of was the penalty for breaking such a Vow, which was death.

Albus glanced over to find that Draco looked exhausted. It was a consequence of the bonding, and he himself had felt the first stirrings of fatigue hit him. Making his way to his chair, he sat heavily.

Draco snapped from his trance and looked wearily towards the headmaster. He thought the old man would give him a mission right then and there; however, the words that exited the headmaster's mouth were filled with concern, something that Draco was not used to hearing directed at himself.

"Draco," Albus began, his voice sounding distant to Draco's ears, although he was but a few metres away from him. "I need you to go home and rest now. Keep your eyes and ears open to any plans that Tom or your father ..."

At the mention of his father, Draco staggered back as though struck. Albus recalled that throughout the evening, the boy had only mentioned his father by his given name, Lucius. He put this piece of information away in his vast memory to be examined later. He continued on as though he hadn't seen the blond lurch away at the mere mention of his father.

"...may be discussing. Please show due caution and do not do anything rash. I will be contacting you soon, but until that time I want you to act as though nothing untoward has happened on this night."

Draco looked into the headmaster's blue eyes; he felt sick to the stomach and nodded his head, not trusting his voice, as made his way down the spiral staircase and out of the castle. His mind was a whirl, and he thought for the briefest moment that he would not make it home. He was truly exhausted.

Nevertheless, Draco made it out the front gates of Hogwarts and somehow even managed to Apparate home to Malfoy Manor. A shiver ran down his spine as he made his way through the gates and up the path to the front door. This was no longer the happy manor he remembered growing up in; it was more like his prison, one he could never be free of.

He declared silently that he would take down his father if it was the last thing he did, and then burn this place to the ground.

***

A/N: Thank you to everyone who is still following my story. Hugs and kisses to those who have reviewed.

To my unbelievable beta, AmyLouise, thank you so very much for continuing to put up with me and my twisted mind.