Narcissa woke up feeling quite cold, so she decided to go to the kitchen and make some hot tea. She pulled her robe on over her nightgown, put her wand in her pocket, and put on her slippers.

She left the room, and started walking down the hallway. She looked ahead and saw that Draco was following Nagini somewhere.

Curious as to what he was doing, she caught up to him. "Draco," Narcissa whispered.  "What are you doing?"

"I think I'm being summoned," Draco said, stopping to put on the second shoe. The appearance of his mother chased the last thoughts of Ginny out of his mind. He forgot her completely, stuffed what she meant into a bubble and locked it so far away that he had only a vague awareness that he was forgetting something.

Even without all the betrayals of the previous afternoon, he could not help going a bit pale at the thought of being summoned before the Dark Lord. He had been largely ignored this summer, and such an unusual summoning indicated a private meeting. What had turned the Dark Lord's eye on him again?

"Summoned? Why would he need to summon you?" Narcissa asked, a little worried. "Is there something going on that I don’t know about?"  She knew that the Dark Lord would not summon Draco unless he had a very good reason to.

His thoughts of Ginny started to swim up again, but he pushed them back down. So much, ever so much, mother, he thought. "I'm sure it's nothing," he lied, trying to reassure her. "Maybe he wants to add pickles to the grocery list."

Nagini hissed impatiently at Draco's heels and slid down towards the cellar. Draco hurried after her. Whatever it was, making Voldemort wait would not improve the situation.

"Ha ha, very funny, Draco. As if the Dark Lord cares what's on the grocery list," Narcissa said sarcastically.

It seemed that Nagini was growing impatient, so Narcissa nodded to indicate that Draco should go on. Still, Narcissa was curious as to why Voldemort wanted to meet with Draco, so she waited until Draco was out of sight, and followed them.

Draco followed Nagini down into the cellar and through the magically constructed underground passages to the meeting room.

The long tables and chairs had been moved aside, leaving the center of the room empty. Lord Voldemort was waiting on his throne. His tall frame titled into a relaxed position. Wormtail was simpering quietly, but as Draco came to the door the Dark Lord held up his hand and dismissed him with a wave.

"Come in, Draco," Voldemort said. "Kneel before me." Draco stepped inside. Wormtail cast him an anxious glance before hurrying out of the room. Nagini slithered forward and wrapped herself around her master’s shoulders.

Draco stopped just short of arms reach from the throne and dropped to his knees. He bowed his head low before Voldemort, his eyes on the ground. "Are you still loyal to your master, Draco?"

This sort of meeting was exactly what Narcissa was worried about. The Dark Lord questioning her son's loyalty could not mean anything good. Narcissa wanted to leave the hallway she was standing in and run to her son. Instead, she listened for what was going to happen next.

Bellatrix had taught Draco how to wall off his thoughts using Occlumency. Something for which he would be eternally grateful, whatever happened.

"Of course, my lord," Draco said, sounding slightly wounded and confused by the question.

"Good," Voldemort said. "It would be extremely foolish for you to be otherwise."

But Snape had been teaching him the art of it.

"Extremely foolish," Draco agreed, still not raising his eyes.

The first lesson of Occlumency was to avoid contact when possible.

"I admit I had my doubts about you, when you failed to complete your mission," Voldemort continued. "But Severus tells me you have been participating most eagerly in the more recent raids. You are young...still the youngest of my Death Eaters, perhaps I can overlook past failures if you continue to improve."

"Thank you, my lord," Draco murmured, his eyes still on the ground.

"Still..." Voldemort said quietly. "There have been whispers."

But the art of Occlumency, deigned that eye contact was the best way to convince a Legilimens of your sincerity.

Draco raised his eyes, allowing faint traces of anger and indignation to flicker across his face, faint traces of fear and curiosity to flicker openly through his mind. The unspoken question of Who? Who whispers against me?

"In Fenrir's case more than whispers," the Dark Lord said with a light chuckle.

Because sometimes the best way to convince a Legilimens you had nothing to hide was to let him in. "And what does the werewolf say about me?" Draco asked, not able to keep the distaste from his voice or the hate from his mind. Oh, yes, he and Fenrir hated each other. Fenrir was likely to say anything to take him from the Dark Lord's favor.

"He is not the only one," Voldemort continued, ignoring Draco's question. "Your Aunt Bella is concerned for you. She fears you are developing sympathies for the Muggles, even coming to enjoy their company."

Draco let indignation fill his mind. It was laced with fear, because fear was too much a part of him these days. It would have been impossible to lock all his fears away, and according to Snape unwise. Lord Voldemort respects brave men, Draco, but he does not trust them. He prefers to be feared, because fear is easier to manipulate. Let him see your fear. It will reassure him.

Meanwhile, he wrapped a wall around the memory of what Fenrir had seen and a second around the basketball game. He had read in Bella's eyes that she had followed him. "I deal with the Muggles under your orders. I don't enjoy it!" Draco protested.

"Under my orders?" Voldemort said dangerously.

Draco flinched. His newly created walls had drawn the attention of the skilled Legilimens. His confusion was not manufactured, however. "I-you assigned me to Snape," he said, beginning to understand. "I thought his orders were yours."

Voldemort relaxed. The danger seemed to pass, though he was putting more effort than before into breaking Draco's walls. His own curiosity tangible. "Yes," he hissed. "I did assign you to Snape. Severus assures me that you have learned to kill. That many Muggles met their end at your hands... However, in your father's mind I saw a Muggle girl and your concern for her. In your mother's mind, I saw a frightened boy confess that he didn't like death."

Stupid, Draco berated himself. He should have anticipated that. He had considered Potter not knowing Occlumency, but he had not considered his parents. Sometimes it's best to show a weakness, his teacher had said. Show a lesser weakness to obscure a great one. You often must be willing to sacrifice one thing to hold on to something greater.

Draco's mental hold slipped, and Voldemort broke through his first wall. "I don't like death," he whimpered as Voldemort was being none too gentle with his mind. "I don't like being around it."

"A weakness in one who calls himself a Death Eater," Voldemort said, clearly delighted to have broken through Draco's walls, and was now happily examining his memories. Memories were funny things though, layered by all the senses and feelings attached to them. Since it was hopeless to conceal it now, Draco revealed his disgust at Lacy's attempt to kiss him and embarrassment that Fenrir had seen. He admitted to loving the feel of the basketball, his ache for Quidditch and teammates and irritation with the Muggle filth around him. "Why do you kill if death displeases you so?"

Draco slumped as the Dark Lord pulled back from his mind. "Because you command it," Draco said. And your word is law.

Voldemort looked slightly please in spite of himself. "And why do you protect the Muggle girl? Do you love her?" Voldemort spat the word.

There was nothing manufactured about the disgust and irritation that swelled in Draco. He loved Pansy, the memory of her and the kiss by her window swam up before he tucked it away again. To put a Muggle in the same category as a pureblood girl was down right sacrilegious...."Merlin No! She's disgusts me! She pushy and irritating, and I'd be quite happy to let Bella or Fenrir have her if I didn't think it would bring the Ministry down on our heads. Neither of them understands discretion."

"You fear the Ministry?" Voldemort asked, masking his own tone.

"I-I fear Azkaban," Draco admitted, trembling slightly. This of course was true...entirely true.

"It does seem to have a certain taste for your family," Voldemort said, almost sounding amused. He was still searching Draco's mind, looking for a crack. "What is your greatest desire, Draco?"

"To serve you," Draco said dutifully.

The Dark Lord hissed and rose to his feet. "Do not lie to Lord Voldemort! He is not a fool, and he does not need to be patronized! Seventeen year old boys do not lie awake at night dreaming of service." His voice changed. It became silky, almost gentle. He took Draco's chin in his hand, and Draco forced himself not to pull away from those long white fingers. "It's all right. I do not expect you to work for nothing. Lord Voldemort rewards those that are faithful to him. Tell me what it is you crave, your deepest desires, or do you expect me to read your mind?"

Voldemort of course knew that Draco could do Occlumency. He had revealed that much during fresher and clumsier attempts to hide his thoughts. Even if he hadn't, Bella had most likely boasted about teaching him. If Draco had not appeared to be hiding something from him, the Dark Lord would be even more suspicious.

"I-I want to conquer death," Draco said, trying to hide his repulsion at Voldemort's touch. "I want to be immortal...like you are." There was truth in the words if not complete truth. Draco reinforced the thought by releasing glimpses of his search for immortality...shading memories so that his half-serious talk with Blaise about becoming a vampire became a serious talk. But he wanted immortality in the sunlight, to be eternally young...to share the gift with his friends...with Blaise...with Pansy....

The Dark Lord hissed, and his hands fell from Draco's face. He dove after his memory of Pansy with such force that Draco fell back and cried out.

"Those jewels, where are they?" Voldemort ask in a low, concentrated sort of voice.

Draco was confused again, but as the Dark Lord seized his memory it became clear to him as well. "You mean the ones Pansy gave me?" Voldemort did not have to say yes. Draco could feel his desire for them. "Do you want them? I can get them for you," he said quickly, eager to please.

Voldemort retreated from Draco's mind and pulled a mask over his own desire. "Yes, go fetch them for me."

"Right away, my lord," Draco said scrambling to his feet and hurrying out of the room.

Narcissa heard Draco coming, and knew that she needed to get out of sight before she was discovered. She cast a disillusionment charm on herself, and turned around to walk back to the main part of the house.

Draco ran back down the passage towards the cellar to go upstairs and look for his mother. But in his haste he slammed into something he was not able to see. The force of the hit knocked him to the floor. It felt like a person, but as he looked around wildly for them nothing came to view.

Narcissa wasn't paying attention, and before she knew it, Draco slammed into her. She fell down, and when she hit the floor, the spell lifted itself. Narcissa got up and dusted herself off.

Draco blinked, maybe his eyes were just playing tricks in the dim light. He would add more carrots to his diet later. "Mother," he said urgently. "Where are those jewels I gave you?"

"I put them away in my room. They're in my jewelry box," Narcissa said. "Why is he asking for them?"

"Yes," Draco said, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice and only partly succeeding. "I need them back. You have to fetch them or I'll fetch them or I'll go with you, but yes, he wants them."

"Okay, you can follow me to my room, but wait outside so we don’t wake your father," Narcissa said, and practically started running to her room. When she got to her door, she opened it quietly, and went inside to grab the jewels. When she had retrieved them, she slowly shut the bedroom door, and handed them to Draco.

"Here- hurry and take them to him, you shouldn't keep him waiting," Narcissa said.

Draco did not need to be told twice. He took the jewels and hurried back down to room where Lord Voldemort was waiting. He slowed at the door and attempted to choke down his panting. Voldemort came to meet him and snatched the jewels out of his hands. He passed his wand over them, and the green gems became blue.

"Is that the right one?" Draco asked.

"Oh, yes," Lord Voldemort said quietly. "This is the right one. Where did you get these, Draco?"

"From Pansy," Draco repeated. "She found them in her basement. In storage."

Voldemort turned his red eyes on Draco for a moment, before looking back at the jewels.

"Are they important?" Draco asked.

"No, not very," Voldemort said, though his eyes said that these were something he wanted very badly. Something he had been looking for. "Who else knows of these?"

"Just Pansy and me," Draco said. He added reluctantly. "And my mother, she's seen them, that is."

"That is of no concern," Voldemort said. "I trust your mother to be discreet. She's learned to keep her mouth shut from all that time Lucius. But Pansy...Parkinson's daughter, I assume? Can she be trusted?"

"Yes, my lord," Draco said, locking away every thought of Pansy that was anything other than complimentary.

"Good, ask for her silence. I may need to have a word with her parents, but the girl may have done me a favor." Voldemort returned to his throne and sat down. "You may go, Draco."

Draco turned to leave.

"Wait."

He turned back.

"Next time, you go to the grocers add capers to your list."

"Capers?" Draco repeated uncertainly.

Voldemort smiled. "Yes, I'm very fond of them."

"Of course," Draco said. "Anything else, sir?"

Voldemort shook his head and waved Draco away. Draco was happy to leave and stepped back out into the hall. As he did, a sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach, that he had just done something very wrong.

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