A celebration for all. A victory for one.

[lord_mordre]

The Dark Lord sat on his throne, spidery fingers curled around the ends of the bone and ivory chair. He was particularly pleased with how things were progressing. Years of painstaking planning had finally paid off, and he had Severus, of all his followers to thank. And with Lucius in Azkaban and Draco so close to death's edge, he'd finally be

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[path_draco]

Draco was not used to the shadow. He'd always tried to be in the spotlight, even when he had to fight Potter for it, but now... this had changed. He no longer sought the spotlight, knowing just how dangerous it could be.

He stood in a corner watching the people around him. A celebration! That was what this was supposed to be, but again, he didn't feel like celebrating. He'd failed to kill an old man, a man who was trying to give him a way out. His compensation had been the Cruciatus from a half-blood. The only reason to celebrate was that he was still alive.

[stoppered_death]

Snape's new rooms were as well-appointed as Voldemort had hinted, with separate laboratories fitted out for research into Dark Arts and Potions. In the labs he set down his backpack, accioed Draco's from wherever the lad had gone, then stretched out on the unfamiliar, too-soft bed for a few hours of potion-assisted rest.

As he bathed, he decided that modification of Dreamless Sleep for long-term consumption would be top priority among his side projects.

Now, the usual grease gone for once from his hair and the potions stains scrubbed from his hands, he strode down the corridor toward the hall. Attire far more impressive than his old teaching robes, but just as black, snapped in his wake as he approached the doors. Another act approached in the grand farce that was his life, and for once Snape was cast as a sort of hero. The irony twisted his lips into a smirk as he reached for the doors

[path_draco]

Draco could almost feel the change in the room as Snape entered the room. In the past, he'd seen students crawl away in fear - Longbottom had only been the most obvious, - but Draco had never understood it. Snape had always been his favourite professor, a man he could respect, but not one he feared.

Now, as he looked around the room, Draco understood the fear, even if he doubted that those imbeciles knew just how dangerous Snape could be. For a moment, Draco had been certain that his aunt Bella was right, and Snape was a traitor. Dumbledore had belived in Snape, and so did the Dark Lord. Dumbledore had been wrong, but a few minutes in the presence of the Dark Lord and a few well placed words from Snape had made Draco suspect that Snape was only loyal to himself, and that was true danger.

[father_fenrir]

The Dark Lord entered and Fenrir stood, shambling to his feet, feeling his too-tight robes rips as he moved. He needed to speak to Voldemort if possible - tell him about the den being raided, ask for help.

Others entered. Lucius' son. The boy who had been unable to do what he was ordered. Fenrir was surprised; he'd have bet good money that he'd have been dead by now. Not for the first time, Fenrir wondered whether Lucius was really unable to get out, or was he staying where it was safest.

Snape. And a different Snape at that. Fenrir could almost taste the difference. Freed from the yoke of servitude at that dump of a school, having done his master's bidding, Snape exuded an air of determination, his aquiline face handsome in its severity. Tricksy tricksy man... Fenrir thought, impressed in spite of his loathing for all of them. Fenrir admired strength, in all its guises.

Oh, but Lucius' son was bitable. Lickable. Not quite his father... no. But close. He wondered if he'd get a chance to get close to him tonight.

[path_draco]

Draco felt Greyback's eyes, and he felt the sudden need for a shower. Dumbledore had been right; Draco would have never invited the werewolf, not in a million years. He didn't like werewolves, but his dislike of Greyback ran much deeper. He didn't even want to know what Greyback had meant when he had told Dumbledore about not wanting to miss the children.

He fought to stop the shiver at the memory. There was no point to think about that now. Although if his father ever got out of Azkaban, Draco would certainly have a little discussion about the sort of friends his father had.

[father_fenrir]

As Severus and Pettigrew were pulled forward, leaving the boy alone in the line-up, Fenrir crept forward, drawn inexorably by the scent and the delicious echoes of his father.

He was beside the boy before he realised it and caught him by the arm.

"Looks like we have a while to get to know each other, young Malfoy," he said, raking his eyes over the pale skin, the slender frame.

[path_draco]

Draco didn't even want to know what that look meant. In fact, he was trying his best to remove all the ideas that came to mind.

Instead, he looked down at the hand on his arm, and then glares at Greyback with all the haughtness he can muster. "Until we do, you should kindly keep your hands to yourself." His tone left no doubt that if it were up to Draco, it wouldn't happen any time soon.

[father_fenrir]

Greyback gave a long low rumbling chuckle at the little Lordling's arrogance and pride. "Come come," he said, rubbing at the boy's slender arm with a muscular thumb, "that's not very fraternal of you..." He yanked the boy a little closer, his breath hot, eyes bloodshot with lack of sleep. "Especially when you've been telling people what a good friend of your family I am. Yes, Borgin was only too anxious to tell me what you said, the little creep

[path_draco]

The pent up anger of the last few days came lashing out at the not so veiled treat. Draco grabbed Fenrir's arm and moved closer, his anger pushing away any misgivings he had. "If you know my father so well," he started in a hiss, "then you know that Malfoys don't take well to threats. Second, if you own a dictionary, then you'll know that allies means people who work together to achieve a common goal. It doesn't mean that they look at one another like they are the main dish in a five course meal. Finally, Snape has kept me alive, and staying that way is my main goal, so I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you won't be 'gnawing' on anything of mine."

Draco took a few deep breaths, trying to regain control, before starting again. This time, his tone was as normal as he could make it when speaking with a werewolf. "For some reason, my father trusts you, and that means something, but don't think that I will let you treat me like a child." Not when everyone else was trying to turn him into a killer, he mentally added.

[father_fenrir]

Idiot boy... He thinks, narrowing his eyes... The line gets weaker. Lucius is more of an idiot than his father was, and this one is worse.He spits at the boy's feet. "You wizards," he snarls. "Whoever made that stupid quote about your breed was only half right. Quick to anger, assuredly. But subtle?" He laughs loudly