May 1, 1998 9:00 AM

The days had turned into May, and the air was thick with the scent of flowers and spring grass. It gave Blaise allergies and he constantly cursed certain herbs grown down at the greenhouses, but Draco loved the warm spring mornings with their sweet aroma and gentle breezes. Lots of people complained that Hogwarts was no longer the place it had been, but Draco found it as peaceful as ever. It was what lay beyond that bothered him. It was Malfoy Manor that felt less like home these days.

First of May used to be a big holiday. Admittedly, by the time Draco was old enough to participate and remember it, it had begun to fall out of fashion but in his parents' youth, it was still very much a tradition and was celebrated by a large part of the wizarding community, not just the Purebloods.

Beltane. A time of renewal and re-birth. As a young boy, Draco would watch his mother make wreathes and strings of bells to put around the Manor and listen to her tell stories from her maidenhood of how she and her sisters would celebrate the holiday. When he was older, his parents took him to the festivals and after they had both turned fourteen, he and Pansy joined the dancing around the bonfires. They would hold hands as they danced and soak up the warm spring sun.

There had not been a celebration last year and there would not be one this year either. Everyone was far too busy with the war to spend time on bells and bonfires, maypole dances and traditional fertility potions. But Draco had a feeling – a feeling that something was going to come out of this day anyway. It wasn't really a heavy feeling, like a foreboding, more a restless need to get out and live in the sun and the sweet spring air.

He wandered out onto the grounds with his broom and trudged through the tall, lush grass by the lake. Beside the water, he mounted his broom and took off toward the endless expanse of the sky. The sky was free and endless and Draco, who had always loved flying, felt a sense of overpowering relief. On the ground, there were so many things that were wrong, so many things that weighed heavily on him while there, in the air, with the wind in his hair, he had nothing but himself and his broom to worry about.

May 1, 1998 9:45 AM

Severus got his correspondence and reports from Headquarters once a week by unmarked owl. Now that they held the Ministry and Hogwarts the chance of intersection was small but they still liked to be careful. The reports were usually penned by Antonin Dolohov. Severus suspected that his former instructor's mistrust of him had more to do with it than anything – usually Dolohov would redirect this task to someone under him. He had enough to worry about these days, Severus knew.

The end of the war seemed very near. In a sense, they had practically won. Potter was still out there and that was the greatest danger. Especially great to the Lord – more so than even his most trusted officers could imagine – because while Potter was out there, Voldemort's Horcruxes were in danger. If Potter was to be eliminated, the rest of the resistance was likely to crumble over time. Not that Snape wouldn't enjoy seeing James Potter's spawn dead, but the boy had a purpose and an important one. Severus had vowed to take down Voldemort, to avenge Lily, and he intended to keep that vow. After all, he had already betrayed so many friends in his quest for this vengeance, what could possibly stop him now?

Besides, Lord Voldemort was not the man he had once been. The callous but charismatic leader with a bright vision of Severus' youth was long gone. In his place was a half-human mockery of the man Tom Riddle had once been. Snape wasn't even the only one who recognized this – he had heard many of the higher officers whispering about the Lord's "instability." Voldemort was no longer a danger only to his enemies but also to his allies. The Malfoys had felt this on themselves and this was just one more reason for Severus to work for the downfall of his Lord.

One more very blond reason.

He knew, even as he drank his morning tea, that Draco was likely somewhere out on the grounds, soaring over the lake, his hair glistening in the bright spring sun. He tried to focus on the reports, but the sentences all ran together as his imagination painted Draco's body – his shoulders, hands and soft hair – before his eyes. It was impossible to not think of Draco, the half-boy, half-man he loved so much. They were careful at Hogwarts, they were even more careful at the Manor. The only place they ever got any respite was in Snape's humble abode on Spinner's End. It was there that things had begun after Draco failed to kill Dumbledore and it was, possibly, only proper that they continue there and no where else. Neither was exactly ashamed of what they did on those long nights together when they left the war on the other side of the door, but they were forced to hide nonetheless. If the Lord found out, he may be displeased. If other Death Eaters found out, they would be ridiculed. If Lucius found out…Severus would likely be dead.

The reports held nearly nothing new. The same lines came off the page time and again: Potter and co. have been off the radar again but the Lord is certain they are acting covertly and strategically. After the latest disturbance at the Ministry, Gringotts and the Manor I cannot help but agree and all alert levels are on high – be advised. Yes, the "disturbances" had been major and the reports had been a lot more tense and frantic at those points. Now, everything had settled into waiting. Severus was expecting Potter to pop up at any moment and, apparently, so was Dolohov.

Severus looked outside into the bright sun, sliding the papers into his desk and locking them. He saw sky and hints of tree-tops and once again thought of Draco. Severus needed Potter to come through. As much as he hated relying on the brat for anything, especially this, the only way for Draco to be safe, the only way this hell could be ended, was if Potter came through.

May 1, 1998 3:00 PM

"We were thinking of going down to the lake," Pansy chattered off-handedly as they walked toward the common room after their last class in the early afternoon. "The nights are warm and it's been so long since we've all indulged in some midnight swimming. What do you say, Draco?" She jabbed him with her elbow to bring him out of his thoughts.

"Ow. Watch it, Pans… I don't know, the curfew applies to everyone."

She rolled her eyes. "Since when do you care about curfew? Besides, Snape will let you off. I see the way he looks at you. Sometimes I wonder if perhaps—"

"Don't say anything more," Draco hissed at her in irritation. "He doesn't look at me like anything. He just…he's known me since I was a child, Pansy. He's worried about me."

"Isn't that touching. Didn't know Snape worried about anyone." She rolled her eyes and slipped into the common room.

Draco wanted to hex her, to shake her by the shoulders and tell her that she was blind. Severus cared. He cared about Draco and about Draco's parents. But most of all – Draco. He had a hard time showing it but it didn't change the fact. A man who didn't care would not have slammed Draco against the wall and kissed him senseless after they escaped into hiding. A man who didn't care would not waste his breath telling him what a fool he had been for losing his nerve, only to later admit brokenly that he was glad Draco could not kill cold-heartedly. A man who did not love him would not have taken care of him through the night during his Cruciatus-induced fever.

But he wouldn't tell Pansy any of this because she would not understand. No one would. No one even knew Draco liked men in his bed. And Severus… Severus did not need any more ridicule than he got. So Draco did not say anything and merely turned away from the common room entrance and stocked to an empty dungeon chamber set up as a brewery. There, he indulged his love for potions. He made healers' potions of all sorts and had Severus forward them to the facility the Death Eaters used as a medward. Sometimes, he sent them straight home. There was always need for medical potions in wartime.

"You should brew less." Severus' voice from the door surprised Draco but did not startle him so much as to force any outward signs from him.

"You don't want someone practicing potions? That's new," Draco snipped. There was no malice in his voice, just amusement. He wasn't scared of Severus. After everything that had happened between them in the last year, he couldn't possibly be. No matter how much Severus scowled and glared, he would never harm Draco. That was beyond him.

"You're depriving our ladies of what little service there is that they can do for our Cause within the scope of decency." Severus did not even attempt to hide his sarcasm.

Draco scoffed. "Most of the officers would probably be more grateful if our ladies spread their legs."

"Well, I did say within the scope of decency, Mr. Malfoy. And then again, would you have Ms. Parkinson spread her legs?"

"No, but Pansy has no desire to brew for the Cause either." Draco could almost hear Severus' sharp smirk in the silence. "This soothes me. I'm trying to follow some of your notes." He nodded at the parchment in front of him. "Besides, what would you have me do?"

"You could practice your wandwork. A good protective spell prevents even the need for a good healing potion."

Draco shrugged. "I only get frustrated when I practice dueling. Besides, Mr. Dolohov gave me enough training to last a lifetime over the various school holidays. I'd rather brew."

Severus only smirked. Draco had no idea what real training was like. Antonin had thrown the boy through a couple of crash courses on the basics of Battle Magic; it was a laughable amount of training compared to what Severus and his companions had received back during the First War. But his heart went out to Draco in a wave of worth nevertheless. The fact that Draco would rather practice potions than dark spells was so life-affirming and gave Severus so much to hold onto that he almost told Draco just that, told him all the things he felt. But instead, he put one hand at the center of Draco's back and began to lecture on the intricacies of the potions Draco was currently working on.

After all, they had never spoken on this thing between them before. Why should they start now?

May 1, 1998 7:25 PM

"They say there is magic in Beltane," Draco whispered hoarsely as he fell into Severus' bed. "Do you think today could be start of something new?"

"How could I know, Draco?" Severus spelled off their clothes and pressed Draco into the mattress. This was all the magic he needed. Every time he was with Draco, he was renewed. No ancient holiday needed.

And yet, when Draco laughed, Severus heard bells and he wondered if the day could bring them something magical after all.

May 1, 1998 9:35 PM

A frantic Patronus brought Severus out of his daydream. Draco was napping beside him on the bed, curled up into a ball, completely naked under the blanket. The Patronus circled around and around until Severus finally paid it some attention.

"Potter believed to be sighted in Hogsmeade. Orders are to search for him in the castle. Stand by for battle." The Patronus announced and vanished.

So it had begun.

Severus stood, carefully, and put on his pants and his shirt, buttoning up the collar. He then dug out and put on his mission robes. For a moment, he regarded himself in the mirror, wondering if he had looked much like this at seventeen, then decided that he had not. He still believed in something back then, he still had friends, people who loved him and whom he had loved until he'd betrayed them all to save Lily. Those sort of things leave deep marks that cannot be erased. Now all that was left to him was Draco. It would have to be enough.

He shook Draco awake and the boy looked up at him with bewildered grey eyes, like a doe caught in the middle of the road. "Potter may be in the castle," Severus explained. "We are unlikely to flush him out before his friends come to his rescue. This castle will turn on itself. So there is something I need you to do."

Draco nodded, putting on his clothes. Severus saw the lines of grim determination on his face and that expression frightened him. Draco was steeling himself for a fight.

"I need you to go to your dormitory. I need you to gather your things. Then, I need you to leave."

"What?" Draco froze, holding his robes before himself but not making a move to put them on. "Leave where?"

"Anywhere. Away from here."

"You want me to run from Potter?" Draco sneered.

"Don't be an idiot!" Severus could feel his patience falling away, crumbling by the minute. "If Potter is truly in the castle – which he may likely be – he will have the protection of all his little friends and most of the staff. The Dark Lord will choose to fight. Headquarters has been planning this siege for months. I think they thought they'd have more time but that doesn't mean they won't act on what they've got."

Draco put on his robes and regarded Severus carefully. "What will you do?"

"The right thing." It was the only way to be both truthful and evasive.

"But you want me to turn and run like a coward."

"I want you to do the prudent thing, Draco. Think of your mother."

Draco's face tightened. "I'll help you look for Potter. I'll get all the Slytherins to help. There doesn't need to be a battle!"

"Yes, Draco, there does. There will be. And I fear it will be the last of this war. It is…Beltane after all."

Draco shook his head like a stubborn, helpless child but Severus did not budge. "Promise me you will stay safe."

Draco stepped forward and ran a hand down Severus' chest, watching the creases his fingers made in the fabric. "It's a war, Severus. I would have to be an idiot to promise something like that." He then turned on his heel and left, allowing the door the slam shut behind him. Draco had never been good at goodbyes and neither was Severus. Perhaps it was best they didn't indulge in any.

May 1, 1998 10:10 PM

Draco stood beside Pansy in the Great Hall as the Lord's ultimatum rang out. They were given until midnight, until the end of the day to decide their fate. A small part of him wanted to run through the halls, screaming Severus' name. But a much larger part knew it would be futile, just like Pansy's naïve efforts to save them all.

His mother had told him that Beltane was part of a cycle – most ancient wizarding holidays were. The thing about cycles is that they have both a beginning and an end and yet have neither at the same time. The pattern merely goes on and on. They are a part of the earth, a part of life.

This was both the beginning and the end. All Draco could do was hope that he and Severus would come out on the other side of the apocalypse and end up in each others arms. It was a five-year-old's dream, but he couldn't help himself.

"Come with me," he told Greg and Vincent as they filed out of the Great Hall behind Filch. The end was inevitable, but he still wanted a say in his new beginning.