Snape had fallen behind just inside the boundaries of the school. He would wait for Snape before Disapparating. He wasn't entirely sure where he was meant to Apparate to yet.
Snape was taking his time. Draco knew he was relishing every second he had alone with Potter to show him just how much he hated him. "DON'T CALL ME A COWARD!" Malfoy heard him scream, jumping slightly. He sensed hurried movement from behind the tree from which he was "keeping out of the way". He saw Snape, his black robes billowing behind him, his black, glittering eyes searching for a sixteen year old boy with a pale face and white-blond hair. He saw Draco, his face colourless, almost pearlescent in the moonlight, poking out from behind a tree. He moved quickly towards him, his cloak hardly whispering on the ground.
"Draco." He said softly.
Draco moved slightly behind the tree. Snape strode towards him, took him by the arm and looked him in the face searchingly. Draco stared stonily back. Snape sighed, and dragged the young wizard with him into Side-Along Apparition.
Malfoy could feel pressure pressing in on every inch of his body, like being shoved in to a very small, rubber tube headfirst with very little hope of eventually wriggling out the other end. His eyes were being forced back inside his skull and his limbs were pinned down to his sides. When the sensation vanished, it took a couple of seconds for him to right himself. He glanced at his surroundings.
"Why," he demanded. "Have we landed here?"
"And what is wrong with here?" asked Snape, casting his eyes around the identical brick and mortar houses, garden gates and hedges that enclosed them on all sides.
"This is ... this is ... " Draco waited for the words to come to him. "Muggle Filth." He concluded.
"This 'Muggle Filth' just so happens to be where I live." Growled Snape as he took Malfoy by the scruff of the neck and dragged him up one of the nearest paths towards a very ordinary, Muggle-looking house. As they approached the front door, the letter box flapped on its hinge three times, though there was neither wind nor anyone inside the house. The door swung open by itself, creaking slightly as though it suffered a dire case of lack of use, and snapped shut quietly behind them as they came to a halt in a dark narrow hallway. Opposite Draco was a staircase, narrow with a wooden banister. The carpet would have looked new were it not covered in about an inch and a half of dust. The walls were lined from ceiling to floor and wall to wall with glass jars of various sizes containing, as those in Snape's office did, potions in thousands of different colours and different degrees of sliminess - a range of seemingly dead animals floated inside them, suspended rigidly.
Snape exited the hallway through the first door on the left. Draco followed him warily. He had been led in to a dim living room. Instead of jars, a book, tattered and beaten with wear, lined the walls and in front of the large window were a wooden coffee table, a velvet-lined arm chair and matching sofa. The window was hidden behind thick, tightly drawn curtains. The only light came from the lamps and candles Severus Snape was now troubling himself to ignite, which he did in what felt like cold silence. It was Draco who broke it first.
"Why have you brought me to your house?" he snapped, avoiding touching as much as possible. He looked as if he was avoiding people infected with the Black Plague, the way he jumped if he came in to contact with anything in the dusty, dark room. Snape gave him a sharp look and then calmly settled himself in to the armchair. He considered the Draco for a second.
"Your mother and I agreed that if the worst should happen, I was to bring you here and await her arrival." He said simply. Draco glowered at him. Snape motioned for him to sit down on the sofa. He didn't move.
"How long will she take to get here? I don't know how much longer I can survive in this dump." Malfoy sneered. Severus did not take offence at this. He could barely survive summer in the dump where he lived and he could hardly call it home. He spent very little time there, hence the thick dust and over-orderly feel of the place.
"Considering your father's current position, imprisoned in Azkaban and therefore unable to be present tonight, I think your mother shall, like the rest of the wizarding world, find out about what happened tonight via the Daily Prophet. She will probably be here in the morning, though I think the journey will require more than just simple Appartion. You're a wanted man now, Draco."
Draco said nothing, but continued to glower at the man he had once seen as his role-model. Snape glared icily back, then sneered and rolled his eyes melodramatically. He muttered a sharp "Children!" under his breath as he did so, and Draco flared up instantly.
"Don't you I dare /I roll your eyes at me!" he thundered. "Especially after you ... you ..." He seemed to be biting back, withholding from Snape what exactly it was he had done.
Snape sighed. "Draco, what good will shouting at me do now? What is done is done, and you should be thankful it was not you that had to do it. You should even, in hindsight, be grateful I stepped in when I did."
"Grateful?" Malfoy fumed. "Grateful? YOU STOLE MY GLORY! It was my task! The Dark Lord gave it to me and -"
"As a punishment for your father. The Dark Lord gave you this task as a punishment for you father's failure at the Ministry last year. He never intended for you to carry out the task completely. He wanted your mother and father to suffer. He knew, Draco, the Dark Lord knew that you are not, as yet, a murderer. I stole nothing from you. If anything, tonight I have given to you!"
"Given to me!" Spat Malfoy. "What exactly have you 'given to me'?"
"A chance Draco." Sighed Snape wearily. "A chance to live. Had you, as you already did when I arrived, failed your mission and I had not stepped in and completed it for you, the Dark Lord would have tortured you until you were sweating blood before killing you for you insubordination."
Draco stared at him silently. He understood. He was no longer as angry with Snape as he had been, but was even more so at himself. He sank into the sofa at the end closest to his teacher.
"You will be safe here tonight, Draco. No one at the Ministry will come looking for us here. Not tonight at any rate."
"What makes you say that?" asked Draco.
"Would you commit a murder, let the whole world know you are on the run - and then simply go home?" inquired Snape, smiling slightly.
"No, probably not."
"They won't come for us here tonight. I'm sure of it. If your mother is not here by sunrise, however, we must indeed 'go on the run'." Snape moved uncomfortably at the idea. He doubted Draco had ever suffered anything more than the greatest luxury money could buy. The prospect of going on the run and in to hiding with him loomed ominously at the back of his mind. Snape hoped and prayed Narcissa would arrive before sunrise.
They sat in silence a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Snape spoke.
"Think about what has happened tonight, Draco. Think about everything that is going to happen from now on. It's going to be a long and difficult and arduous time for us, this brief breath we have before the storm. Until the Dark Lord takes power over the Ministry, we must remain hidden. We must leave false trails before finally arriving at your home. You know that the Dark Lord has taken Malfoy Manor as his headquarters?" Draco nodded. Snape continued. "We will be safe once we can reach there. In light of the fact you successfully managed to smuggle Death Eaters in to Hogwarts undetected and Dumbledore is dead I don't think you will be punished. If you are, I will intervene as far as possible." Silence followed. Snape took a deep breath. "I promise."
Draco moved his head and connected his eyes with Snape's and muttered something that sounded oddly like "Thank you." Snape was satisfied with that. Draco was a Malfoy after all. What thanks did he really expect? Snape sighed heavily. The clock ticked loudly on the mantelpiece.
"A friend once said," Snape faltered slightly as he said it. "A friend once said: 'We must now all make the choice between what is right and what is easy'. Consider this for me, Draco: what do you think is right?"
Draco looked away from him and fixed his gaze on the window opposite him, despite the fact thick, dusty curtains hid it. "What is right ...?" He asked, almost to himself. He returned his gaze to Snape, who was waiting patiently for his answer. "What is right ... is to protect my parents?"
To his surprise, Snape laughed.
"If I wanted my questions to be answered with more questions, I would have quizzed a centaur! What do you think is right, Draco? Regardless of judgement, regardless of condemnation by your peers, equals and superiors, what do you think is right?" Snape withdrew his wand and flicked it. To large goblets appeared on the coffee table in front of them, filled to the brim with a strong drink. "Firewhisky?" he offered Malfoy. Draco took it but did not drink. He simply stared at the curtains transfixed, a thousand tiny daggers attacking the back of his eyes, each stab trying to bring forth a wave a salty tears. He concentrated all his energy in to fighting them. He could feel Snape's eyes searching him, waiting for his answer. Eventually, Snape finished his drink and placed it down on the table.
"Come now, Draco." He said softly. "Think."
Draco slammed his goblet down on the table, spilling Firewhisky all over the wooden coffee table. The wood smoked gently, charring a little. Snape didn't move. Malfoy sank all the way back in to the sofa, and Snape thought for a moment that it was going to swallow him. Draco put his hands over his face, and tipped his head backwards, exasperated. Tears somehow managed to worm their way out from between his long, pale fingers. He calmed himself and allowed his hands to fall in to his lap.
"I know ... I know ..." he whispered, shaking slightly. "I know what is right." He turned his eyes and locked them on Snape's. "But for my parents' sake, I must do what is easy."
If Snape thought anything of this statement, he didn't let on. He simply blinked, waved his wand and the mess Draco had caused with the Firewhisky vanished. "And that is your final decision?" he said almost comfortingly, but with - was that a touch of disappointment?
"Yes." said Draco.
"You are certain that, in providing the Dark Lord with your services, your parents will be safe?"
"With Dumbledore gone, I think so." Draco bit his lip. Severus extended his arm and gripped Draco's shoulder tightly.