Genesis
Day One.
In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void: and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.
Day One.
Dumbledore was dead. He'd been planning and anticipating it for so long. And now, now it had happened. Draco raised his head to the basin beside him and vomitted. Like a giant vulture, Snape had swept onto the battlements of the tower and circled him, hard-eyed and hard-voiced. His hands didn't shake. Draco's dreams of triumph and glory had shattered as the headmaster fell. He had failed. Draco wiped his mouth and tasted ash.
They had apparated just outside a ramshackle house, Draco stumbling, punch-drunk. Snape had hauled him inside and pushed him up the stairs into a dark room, slamming the door behind him. Dull eyes wandered across the room. The basin next to him, it was part of a set--the pitcher sat on a heavy wooden stand. A rocking chair, a bed, a bureau. He lay stretched out across an itchy woolen rug, he hadn't been able to reach the bed.
There was no helping it. No saving him. He had failed; finally, ultimately, completely failed. And even worse, he had been tempted. Dumbledore's offer of safety, freedom, an escape... Draco sniffled. There was no hope now. The Dark Lord would kill him, or have him killed. He tried to face up to it, took a deep breath. An eerie detachment washed over him.
Breathe, he told himself. Sit up. Be a man. Be a Malfoy. It can't be that bad. It looks painless. Somehow, the thought didn't cheer him. I wonder when it will happen. Maybe Snape is on his way up now. Maybe I'll get to see Mother first.
Slowly he sat up. His head spun, the shadows on the wall dancing grotesquely. I wonder where we are. We were supposed to report--is this where HE is staying? Maybe it'll come sooner than I thought.
Draco stood, feeling like he hadn't moved in a year. He would look around. Snape hadn't told him to stay there, and maybe he'd learn something. I won't hide. I won't run away. Just... Just look around. Hell, maybe the door is locked and I won't be able to go anywhere anyway. It can't hurt to try.
But the door wasn't locked. It opened without a sound onto a small hallway. There was another door--closed--and stairs leading down. He could hear murmurs coming from somewhere in the house. Downstairs. Must be. Draco crept toward the voices. There was a door at the bottom of the staircase, he eased it open.
"--the others reported the boy's failure. And the capture of our ally. He is not pleased, you must know that. He wants an accounting from the boy."
"I'm sure he does." Snape's voice was edged with an emotion Draco couldn't identify.
"He will also want an accounting from you. Why didn't you come straight back with the rest? Why did you bring him here?"
"Draco was in no shape to be presented to the Dark Lord. He was sick. I brought him here, temporarily, to recover." Draco's heart dropped. No hope. Right. He cracked the door a little wider, hoping to see the other man.
It was Wormtail. Standing straighter than the last time Draco had seen him, but he refused to meet Snape's eyes. "That's not a very good answer, you know. He won't like it."
"Break it to him gently, then."
There was a long pause. The small man crumpled, as though his weight was suddenly too much for him. "Severus, please. Give me something better than that. For all our sakes."
Snape glared at him for a moment, Draco could feel time slowing down as he weighed the options. "Very well. Perhaps you're right."
He strode out of view. There was a clinking of glass and the sound of liquid being poured.
"I made the Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa. To protect the boy from harm. Taking him to the Dark Lord at this point would almost certainly violate that oath. And I am not yet prepared to forfeit my own life."
Draco inhaled sharply. It was too much. Snape had.. He had... He slumped down to the steps, head lolling to one side, eyes rolling closed. Snape had saved him.
When he regained consciousness, Draco was stretched out across flannel sheets on the bed in the dark room. His head hurt and he couldn't remember how he had gotten there. He lifted his head, trying to look around.
"Don't sit up, you'll only faint again."
Draco could see a figure wrapped in black sitting in the rocking chair across from the bed. "Professor, sir--" He hated the weakness in his voice. "I...I should thank y--"
"Don't." Snape stood up. "I will bring you some tea, and you will sleep. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir." He rested his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.
When Snape returned a few minutes later, Draco had already fallen asleep. A smile cobwebbed the edges of his mouth. He was saved.