A/N: I recently talked with a friend about how Draco could react to Snape's true allegiance, and this is what I came up with. It was bascially a spur of the moment thing, and I don't have much experience writing fanfic, so I apologise in advance for any mistakes. If anyone wants to review, I'd be forever thankful:)

Also, I don't own Harry Potter.

BTW, the title is derived from a quote of Donna Tartt's The Secret History, an awesome book everyone should read.

~Layers of Silence~

So, you're dead.

I don't even know why I'm talking to you. It's ridiculous and stupid. I should'nt care, it should all be beneath me...

There are alive people I could talk to, you know. My mother would love it if I talked to her. She's worried. She does'nt want me to go back to Hogwarts for my seventh year, you see. Not that she says that openly. This whole Death Eater buisness should'nt get in the way of my successful career. If I don't go, my future could be ruined! We can't have that! Just forget everything that happened, Draco. You're young. You're a Malfoy, and Malfoys are afraid of nothing. They do honour to their noble name. You'll get over it...

That's the line of thinking expected of me at this moment, I assume. So, why am I doing this?! This is making everything worse, I can already feel it. I don't want to think about you or Dumbledore or that horrible year I was afraid ALL THE TIME, so afraid that it did'nt even matter anymore that it was pathetic to cry in bathrooms and have doubts like that and be weak...so weak, because I just wanted for it to stop. For it to all be some nightmare I would wake up from any second, and it would all go back to being fun and games and tormenting Gryffindors without actually...you know, killing people.

But I basically told you all this when you were alive, did'nt I? Hopefully, a bit more composed and matter-of-fact, and not at all shaking and nauseous and fighting the urge to sob against your robes. No, I was never that far gone.

Definetly not.

Where was I?

I see this is going to take awhile. No matter, I have time. Mother is in her room, "resting". Yeah, right. As if it were possible to rest here! I only sleep when I can't fight it anymore...

So, I don't know what mother does in there all day. Crying, maybe? I have never seen my mother cry. It would be disgraceful. My father was shipped off to Azkaban a week ago. He won't come out for a while I reckon. Not that you care. Yesterday, I still thought you would. Yesterday, you were just another person killed by the Dark Lord. I was sorry. Oh, I feel ashamed and embarrassed for admitting this, and I'll never say it again, ever, but without you, I don't think I would have survived that year. Well, actually it's pretty clear that I would've have bleed to death in a girl's bathroom with only an annoying ghost for sympathetic company -I'm not counting Potter, he was the one who tried to kill me, besides he's Potter- if you had'nt burst in at that moment. But that's not what I meant. Merlin, it sickens me to think that now.

The house is silent. I can hear every single sound I make, I jump at every creaking floorboard. At this time, only the houseelves are walking around. They're like shadows, quick and discreet. They have always been like this, careful not to disturb their masters. They know their place.

Death Eaters know their place, too. Most of them could sneak around the Manor silently. Exspecially aunt Bellatrix. She liked scaring people. She liked scaring me, little Draco. She called me that. It did'nt even make sense, I'm as tall as she.

Does little Draco doubt our Dark Lord? Does he maybe need a little persuading? I can work with him on that, what do you think, Cissy? I'm very good at persuading.

I'd be all alone now, by the way, if mother had'nt saved Potter's life. He spoke out for her (and me, though I'm not ready to acknowledge that yet, thank you) and so she's free. I don't know how she feels about that. I think she's done with principles for now. It's about surviving, for the time being. I, of course, hate being even slightly indebted to that brat Potter, whom I still hate, even if I'm not a Death Eater anymore and don't have any wish of becoming one ever again. I'll see him in school, I suppose. Just great, really looking forward to that...

I guess what I mean is that if Harry sodding Potter has done a better job in helping me and my family than you have, that says quite a lot.

I hate the silence. I hate this place. Yes, I grew up here, but memories like unwrapping my first broom on christmas morning or listening to mother telling a story are kind of tainted by the fact that they tortured Granger in the same room where all that happened. I had to listen to her screams while I tried not to cover my ears.

Picking on Potter and his pathetic friends used to be fun. Before...it got all twisted.

I wonder if Hogwarts will be as destestable to me as this place is now. It's about the only location I don't want to go to to escape from here. But it's were I'm going. And I will go there with the bearing, superiority and condescension of a true Malfoy, of course. Even if you're beaten, you can't allow anyone to see it. Hey, maybe I'll see your portrait in the headmaster's office. They'll want to keep a close eye on the traitorous Ex-Death Eater, I expect.

I won't look at you. I won't even acknowledge you. I certainly won't say all this again. With that in mind, back to the why:

I need to ask you something.

In that regard, it's a good thing you're dead because you can't tell anyone what I said. Or respond to my ranting questions. I would'nt want to hear your answer, anyway. It does'nt matter. I don't care. No, I'll do the talking now, you deal with it!

And I'm not insane or something because I'd rather talk to my dead Professor than my mother or my friends, some of wich maybe have'nt abadoned me. I had to share a roof with aunt Bellatrix for months. Now, she was insane, I'm just mildly...well, I can't say traumatized-Malfoys don't get traumatized, we're generally supposed to be the ones doing the traumatizing- but you get the idea.

There was an article in the Prophet yesterday. I don't know why I even still read that stupid paper, it's just an endless gush of Potter-worship (wich is sickening) mixed with "Tributes to the Fallen" (I have so enough of death!) and assessment of all the damage You-Know-Who and his followers (amongst wich I can count myself, in case you had'nt noticed) have caused. Does'nt exactly brighten my already shitty day, therefore. But we have to stay informed, and with allies of the family either turning away or being in Azkaban to keep father company, this is the easiest way to do that.

So congratulations Severus Snape, you're a hero now! Potter said it, so it must be true! Fixed some of Slytherin's rapidly declining reputation, have'nt you, by being a double agent all along? Sacrificing everything for this Order of the Phoenix (that's a terribly pretentious name by the way, I bet I know who came up with it. Your pal Dumbledore, no?) Fooling the Dark Lord, helping Potter destroy him, all that? Yes, you really should have read this, he positively glowed with affection and admiration for the great Severus Snape, restored now fully in the eyes of the public! The same Potter you tormented for years on end, going on about you like you were his adoring rolemodel, like you ever did anything even remotely nice-

I would'nt have, so you know. But Potter is just about pathetic enough to forgive an arsehole like you because his patronus is a doe or whatever. Not that I care. This is'nt about him.

You should understand that. You hated all the attention Potter got. I wonder if you'd be grateful that he's passed some of it over to you. I don't think so, but do I really know anything about you at this point?

People are probably surprised. I have'nt left the manor since reading the news, but I can imagine. I mean, you killed Dumbledore! Everyone has to despise the person who killed Dumbledore, the person who dared-

Ah, well. Lucky that I could'nt do it then, right? No, wait. I was never supposed to do it, was I? I prepared myself, hated myself, was out of my mind with fear for a whole year, all because of a task I would never do in the end. And you knew the whole time.

Mother told me you would help me, that you were there, that you assured her I would be fine. But I had to be the one to do it. To prove my loyalty, honour my family name, as some kind of sick welcome-to- the-service-of-the-Dark-Lord-gift, all three, however you want to look at it. I had to be the one. You-Know-Who said it, my parents said it, aunt Bellatrix cackled it, and you, you said it too. You looked sorry for putting me through this, I remember. I should've known something was up then. Severus Snape feeling sorry for anyone! You'd always supported me, but that was a step too far. Then, I just took it to mean that things had really taken a dark turn and I was royally screwed like I'd never been before. Wich was also true. I just did'nt realize how dark that turn actually was.

I was so ashamed for not wanting to kill Dumbledore. That the mere thought of it send me into bouts of panic instead of filling me with glee. I told you that, too.

You said something about duty and how it's not always pleasant but it has to be done nevertheless. I'm wondering, were you talking about me our yourself in that moment?

There is nothing here, only layers of black, depressing silence. I can think in this silence. Clearly. It has been long since I could do that. I have come to the conclusion that perhaps it is'nt that unnatural for a teenage boy -however aristocratic and assured- to not want to kill his headmaster or to need guidance from his teacher or fear what a cruel, powerful wizard might do to his family if he does'nt do his bidding. Unless you're aunt Bellatrix, it's quite easy to understand that, I think.

I was sixteen, you bastard! What in Merlin's name was wrong with you people? And you, if you're so good, if you're such a hero and Dumbledore is beyond all critiscsim anyway, how could you do the exact same thing the Death Eaters did and expect me to-...play my part in that filthy little plan of yours? What would've been so difficult about standing up and saying: "Listen my Lord, I'd be honoured to kill Dumbledore, I'm much closer to him and Draco Malfoy is too inexperienced" or something?! Why did I even have to be a part of this?

Mother was surprised too. She was glad about that Unbreakable Vow, and that I'm alive, and she's probably taking this better than I am. You were always more my father's friend than hers, anyway. I suppose they don't exactly hand the Daily Prophet to prisoners every day, though, so I doubt he knows yet. Do you care? Did you secretly despise us, hoping this would happen, disappointed that you would never get to see us suffer?

Well, you saw me suffer. Liked it? Proud, noble Draco Malfoy crying like a baby. Must have been quite the sight. Would you have let me die in that bathroom if it'd served you purpose? It would have blemished Potter's perfect image a bit, having accidentally killed a schoolmate in his sixth year, even if he had the Dark Mark. Would'nt want that, would we?

Speaking of image, I still have mine to uphold. So I'm drawing this whiny, embarrassing rant to it's humiliating close: I said I wanted to ask you something. Even if you can't answer, dead that you are. Dead, swallowed by the silence...

-Wow, I need to find some music. Good music. I'm like, one day away from odering the houseelves to sing while they work.-

So, here it goes:

Did you ever care about me? Wether I lived or died? Wether I survived the war or not? Hell, even wether I passed your Potions Class! Or was it all just...part of the plan?

Ridiculous. You can't answer, we've already established that. I'm going to stop talking now. I'll never talk to you again. Or any other dead person.

I wish you'd said something, I wish I knew-

Not relevant. The whole wizarding world loves you now, so what does it matter if I don't? I just had to say all that to you, Merlin knows why.

Now I'm going to owl someone who isn't dead and go out. I'll have dinner with mother later. Maybe I'll speak with her a bit, then. I don't think I can stand the silence anymore.

Goodbye, Professor Snape. I hope you'll rot in your grave.