"Draco!" Now Lucius was genuinely terrified. It was one thing for him to spot poisons from behind his manor's wards тАУ quite another for Draco to be able to remain safe with neither his father's experience nor the manor's safety spells.
Snape watched with satisfaction. Malfoy was a typical pureblood parent. He was stern, remote, aloof, and quick with a slap or a thrashing if he believed his son was not living up to his high standards. He also had an explosive temper that his son had obviously learned to fear. But for all that, he loved Draco, and not merely as a continuation of the family line.
Snape remembered Lucius' pride when Draco had been born тАУ the man had come as close to a sappy grin as his arrogant features would allow when he first held his infant son, and Snape was well aware that for all his many flaws as a parent, Lucius adored the boy. Of course, he adhered to the purebred code which insisted that any show of emotion тАУ even parental affection тАУ was undignified, so he tended to demonstrate his love through material goods and austere comments and using a slipper to communicate displeasure instead of the Crucio that his own father had preferred.
Snape knew that Draco's bottom was left marked and smarting after his punishments, but he was a far cry from the shuddering wreck that Lucius had been after his father had got through with him. Nor were the smackings Lucius administered to Draco as bad or as frequent as the beatings Harry had received at the hands of his Muggle relatives, though they were still awful enough to make Draco dread the thought of angering his father.
Snape sniffed contemptuously. Obviously the man had never heard of positive reinforcement!
Still, for all his many faults, Lucius loved his son, and that was his biggest weakness. Accordingly, Snape went straight for the jugular. "Have you heard that the Borgias claim to have invented at least nine untraceable, excruciating poisons that are impervious to the effects of a bezoar? Of course, those Italians are quite devious. I wouldn't be surprised it the actual number was even higher."
As he had anticipated, Lucius quickly capitulated. "All right, damn you! You've made your point. What do you want for your silence?"
Instead of answering the question, Snape asked another question. This was the tricky part. If he didn't get the response he sought, he would either have to obliviate Malfoy or kill him. He still wasn't sure which would be the better option in the long run.
"Are you familiar with a horcrux?"
Lucius blinked. "A what?"
"Tell me of your long term plans, Lucius. When you joined the Dark Lord and became a member of His inner circle, did you assume that someday you would inherit the throne from He Who Must Not Be Named? That you would be the Dark Lord's successor or be able to groom Draco for that position?"
Lucius considered, but in the end he could see no reason not to answer the question. "Yes. Why not? Who else could hold such a position? Crazy Bella? The Carrows, who practically share a single brain between the two of them?"
"The Dark Lord is immortal," Snape told him brutally. "He has used horcruxes to ensure he cannot be killed by normal means. He will never die, so he has no need for an heir. You are not setting yourself or your family up to rule the world, but to be slaves to the Dark Lord in perpetuity. The proud House of Malfoy," he mocked, "eternally groveling to a Muggle's unwanted son."
Lucius was too confused to attack Snape for this blasphemy. If the Potion Master knew what he was talking about тАУ and Snape had a nasty habit of being right тАУ then supporting the Dark Lord was hardly the path to power that he had long sought. Rather it led either to a quick death, if Potter slew Voldemort then turned on his followers, or a lingering one, if an immortal Voldemort slew Potter, then proceeded to Crucio and Avada everyone around him for the next millennium or more. Malfoy's past service to the Dark Lord had conclusively demonstrated that loyalty was a foreign concept to Voldemort, and thanks to the Dark Lord's impossibly high standards and utter intolerance of failure, his followers felt his wrath far more often and far more painfully than anyone else.
If Voldemort really were immortal тАУ or trying to be тАУ that might explain why there had always been mutterings about Potter being the Chosen One. No wonder Voldemort had feared him, even as a baby, more than the Aurors or Ministry. To defeat an unbeatable foe required a prophecy, an unlikely hero with special powersтАж the complete package as defined in myths and stories. And Harry Potter certainly seemed to fit that bill, which lent strength to Snape's claims.
And if those claims were trueтАж Suddenly Lucius began to feel an overwhelming fondness for the current system. Ministers were notoriously stupid and biddable, and he foresaw no difficulty in remaining the power behind the throne. And one day, if he тАУ or Draco тАУ grew tired of that role, what was to stop him from becoming Minister himself? And not a puppet Minister under some invulnerable Dark Lord, but an independent, Dark, and powerful Minister in his own right. That definitely had more appeal than playing henchman тАУ even top henchman тАУ to an unstable demi-god.
Malfoy swallowed hard. "And if I choose to break with Him? Do you guarantee my safety and that of my family?"
Snape gave him a long, calculating look. "I can give you no guarantees, particularly with regard to your own life, but I promise I will do everything within reason to safeguard your son and keep him from the Dark Lord's clutches."
Lucius was far from satisfied, but he knew that this was the best he was going to get. "Fine. I'm with you." Unconsciously, he rubbed his left forearm and shivered with dread. The Dark Lord's punishment of traitors was legendary. If Voldemort ever rose again, he had just signed his own death warrant and likely ensured the eradication of his entire House.
"Excellent," Snape said coolly, not allowing his exultation to show. "Now, for the price of my silenceтАж"
"WHAT?" Lucius exploded. "Didn't I just swear allegiance to you, risking everything in my life? And now you want more?"
"Save your histrionics for someone who will be swayed by them." Snape's tone was bored. "We both know you made your decision based on your own self-interests. Don't expect me to be impressed by your efforts to rectify the mess you've made. You threw in with the strongest side, and you're lucky we'll have you."
Lucius blinked. Never before had anyone been anything but slavishly grateful for his gracious support. Fudge had practically wet himself when Malfoy had agreed to back him for Minister. And now this hook-nosed half-blood was saying that he was the lucky one?
Obscurely, Snape's offensive tone made him feel better. The Potion Master was certainly acting like his side was sure to win, and they had vanquished Voldemort тАУ in several guises тАУ alreadyтАж Maybe he and his family would survive the inevitable conflict.
"All right," he said in calmer tones, "what do you want?"
"In exchange for my not revealing the source of the Diary to the Parkinson family," Snape answered, "you will give me the house elf Dobby."
Lucius had been mentally inventorying the contents of his vaults and wondering how much he could afford to lose without having to mention anything to Narcissa, and Snape's meager demand for a house elf, and a peculiar one at that, made his jaw drop for the second time that day.
"Dobby?" he echoed, bewildered. "Why on earth would you ask for him?"
"I want him," came the unhelpful reply.