Disclaimer: I did not invent Harry Potter. Alas, I wish I did because I
would be the coolest person on earth if I did. But no, I resort to writing
fan fiction. Take that! WOOT!
A/N: Ok, fan fiction.com is still a mystery to me, so excuse my amateruness...that's not even a word.see what I mean??!!
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"Attention. Be quiet!"
The Slytherin common room's usual ruckus lowered to a hush as all heads turned to listen to Severus Snape, who has just appeared at the door. Draco, who was lounging by the window pulling the legs off a hapless beetle, turned around and met Snape's cold glare with his own look of indifference. All heads turned to the pair and a few reached into their pocket to finger their wands nervously.
The common room was unusually quiet except for the crackling of the fireplace. After a few moments, Draco calmly flicked the beetle into the flames, breaking the tension. The room exhaled simultaneously and went back to their study, talking and laughing nervously. Snape's eyes narrowed and he walked over to Draco, who ignore his approach.
Snape leaned down to Draco's level and regarded him for a few moments. Draco inwardly sighed as he picked his teeth with the tip of his wand.
"Why must Snape always make a scene? If he has something to tell me, tell me during potions or send me an owl. He sure isn't helping my image by having these 'stake outs' in the common room," Draco thought.
Snape cleared his throat, forcing Draco back to current affairs.
"I don't like bringing up sensitive subjects, Mister Malfoy, but your father, he-" Snape was cut off by Malfoy's ever so convenient yawn. Snape's fingers rapped on the cold tabletop, which had no effect what-so-ever on Draco, who ignored it as looked back out of the window. The firelight gleamed off of Draco's silver-blond hair, making an interesting contrast to Snapes black head. Snape sat in the silence. "If the boy doesn't want to hear the news, that's his problem. But I'm not getting blamed for not trying," he thought.
Snape pushed himself up and turned around, black cloak billowing dramatically.
"It's starting to snow." Draco's smooth voice said softly behind him. A spark of annoyance flamed up in Snape, but he turned around anyway, his smile forced.
"You were always one for dramatics, weren't you Mister Malfoy?" Snape sneered. Malfoy smiled softly, watching the first white flakes of snow drift down past his window to settle on the grass below. Draco's fingers strayed to his sketch book, which lay beside him.
Goyle and Crabbe, working vainly on their Herbology homework, looked up, hoping to be included in on the conversation. They were stupid, but not stupid enough to not recognize an obviously important conversation.
"If you're done acting juvenile, I'd like to talk to you about the current state of your father." Draco, although listening, was attempting to sketch the glittering landscape below. Snape cleared his throat again, reminding Draco unpleasantly of Professor Umbridge. When it was apparent this was all the attention he'd get, Snape went on. "I know I can't relate to what you're feeling-"
"Stop acting corny, Professor. Of course you can't relate. Besides, you were never good at being sentimental." His hand flew across the paper.
Snape sighed and ran his fingers through his black hair. Why must the boy act so damn dense? "I'm not trying to comfort you, Mister Malfoy, I'm only trying to relate a bit of news to you that I thought might make your Christmas a bit more merry." Draco snorted, obviously disbelieving.
"Your father has been pardoned."
Draco's hand stopped on the paper and Crabbe choked, probably on his own the spit.
Snape turned and gave both Crabbe and Goyle a glare that sent them both scurrying off to their dorms like frightened mice. When he turned again to Draco, he found the boy looking at him fixedly, his gray eyes shining with a strange and scary intelligence.
"Well, don't go too overboard on the rejoicing." Snape sarcastically said, sitting down in Crabbe's vacant chair, sending up a cloud of dust.
Draco had stopped listening to Snape a while ago. His heart was thumping like mad in his chest and his mouth had gone strangely dry. He could scarcely hold his pencil and the tree he had been sketching didn't look remotely like a tree anymore. His father was coming back. The ministry pardoned him, despite him being a death eater, despite the countless murders. Despite all the unforgivable sins his father had committed, he had been pardoned. He could see Snape's lips moving but all he could hear was a strange ringing.
"Mister Malfoy? Mister Malfoy? DRACO!" Draco snapped back into reality and his pencil shattered under his hand. Snape looked at him in amazement. The boy looked terrified.
"Did you hear a thing I just said?" Draco nodded dumbly, but then shook his head as he leaned over to pick up the pieces of his pencil. "Well then. If you had been paying any attention you would have heard that your father is being let out of Azkaban, but is on house arrest. He must also perform a charity for the ministry. He'll be taking in a muggle for the school holidays, you know, to let the public see he has no problem with non- wizards."
Draco, who had been listening numbly to Snape, looked up at this.
"A muggle? You mean a Mudblood in our house?" Snape's hands knotted together and his knuckles turned white, but he only smiled coldly.
"Yes, you'll be having a muggle for Christmas. A muggle child. I'm sure it's a small sacrifice to pay for your father's innocence." With that, Snape pulled himself out of his chair and looked down at Draco. "See you tomorrow in class."
Snape turned on his heels and strode out the now empty common room. He was a little unnerved at Draco's lack of emotion, but it wasn't his business. The boy had always been insensitive.
Draco's eyes followed him out. He felt cold despite the warm fire. He was no longer in the mood for drawing. The serene beauty of the glittering landscape outside had lost its appeal. These were the times when he missed not having a best friend (or at least a best friend that could talk without drooling.)
"What will mother say when she finds out that her husband is coming home?" he thought. "Everything was going uphill since Potter ratted on my dad. But now he's coming back, just in time for Christmas. And a Mudblood is staying at our house." His eyes closed and he tried to fight back the wave of panic rising in his chest. He closed his eyes tighter until spots appeared, black and blue and then exploding into a painful display of red and orange fireworks. His breathing slowed and he opened his eyes to the now hazy common room. It had grown dark outside and the only memory of the snow was Draco's abandoned sketch.
Draco got to his feet and stared into the fireplace. The beetle was long gone by now. The flames leapt red hot and burning, but Draco shivered. The window wasn't open.
A/N: Ok, fan fiction.com is still a mystery to me, so excuse my amateruness...that's not even a word.see what I mean??!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Attention. Be quiet!"
The Slytherin common room's usual ruckus lowered to a hush as all heads turned to listen to Severus Snape, who has just appeared at the door. Draco, who was lounging by the window pulling the legs off a hapless beetle, turned around and met Snape's cold glare with his own look of indifference. All heads turned to the pair and a few reached into their pocket to finger their wands nervously.
The common room was unusually quiet except for the crackling of the fireplace. After a few moments, Draco calmly flicked the beetle into the flames, breaking the tension. The room exhaled simultaneously and went back to their study, talking and laughing nervously. Snape's eyes narrowed and he walked over to Draco, who ignore his approach.
Snape leaned down to Draco's level and regarded him for a few moments. Draco inwardly sighed as he picked his teeth with the tip of his wand.
"Why must Snape always make a scene? If he has something to tell me, tell me during potions or send me an owl. He sure isn't helping my image by having these 'stake outs' in the common room," Draco thought.
Snape cleared his throat, forcing Draco back to current affairs.
"I don't like bringing up sensitive subjects, Mister Malfoy, but your father, he-" Snape was cut off by Malfoy's ever so convenient yawn. Snape's fingers rapped on the cold tabletop, which had no effect what-so-ever on Draco, who ignored it as looked back out of the window. The firelight gleamed off of Draco's silver-blond hair, making an interesting contrast to Snapes black head. Snape sat in the silence. "If the boy doesn't want to hear the news, that's his problem. But I'm not getting blamed for not trying," he thought.
Snape pushed himself up and turned around, black cloak billowing dramatically.
"It's starting to snow." Draco's smooth voice said softly behind him. A spark of annoyance flamed up in Snape, but he turned around anyway, his smile forced.
"You were always one for dramatics, weren't you Mister Malfoy?" Snape sneered. Malfoy smiled softly, watching the first white flakes of snow drift down past his window to settle on the grass below. Draco's fingers strayed to his sketch book, which lay beside him.
Goyle and Crabbe, working vainly on their Herbology homework, looked up, hoping to be included in on the conversation. They were stupid, but not stupid enough to not recognize an obviously important conversation.
"If you're done acting juvenile, I'd like to talk to you about the current state of your father." Draco, although listening, was attempting to sketch the glittering landscape below. Snape cleared his throat again, reminding Draco unpleasantly of Professor Umbridge. When it was apparent this was all the attention he'd get, Snape went on. "I know I can't relate to what you're feeling-"
"Stop acting corny, Professor. Of course you can't relate. Besides, you were never good at being sentimental." His hand flew across the paper.
Snape sighed and ran his fingers through his black hair. Why must the boy act so damn dense? "I'm not trying to comfort you, Mister Malfoy, I'm only trying to relate a bit of news to you that I thought might make your Christmas a bit more merry." Draco snorted, obviously disbelieving.
"Your father has been pardoned."
Draco's hand stopped on the paper and Crabbe choked, probably on his own the spit.
Snape turned and gave both Crabbe and Goyle a glare that sent them both scurrying off to their dorms like frightened mice. When he turned again to Draco, he found the boy looking at him fixedly, his gray eyes shining with a strange and scary intelligence.
"Well, don't go too overboard on the rejoicing." Snape sarcastically said, sitting down in Crabbe's vacant chair, sending up a cloud of dust.
Draco had stopped listening to Snape a while ago. His heart was thumping like mad in his chest and his mouth had gone strangely dry. He could scarcely hold his pencil and the tree he had been sketching didn't look remotely like a tree anymore. His father was coming back. The ministry pardoned him, despite him being a death eater, despite the countless murders. Despite all the unforgivable sins his father had committed, he had been pardoned. He could see Snape's lips moving but all he could hear was a strange ringing.
"Mister Malfoy? Mister Malfoy? DRACO!" Draco snapped back into reality and his pencil shattered under his hand. Snape looked at him in amazement. The boy looked terrified.
"Did you hear a thing I just said?" Draco nodded dumbly, but then shook his head as he leaned over to pick up the pieces of his pencil. "Well then. If you had been paying any attention you would have heard that your father is being let out of Azkaban, but is on house arrest. He must also perform a charity for the ministry. He'll be taking in a muggle for the school holidays, you know, to let the public see he has no problem with non- wizards."
Draco, who had been listening numbly to Snape, looked up at this.
"A muggle? You mean a Mudblood in our house?" Snape's hands knotted together and his knuckles turned white, but he only smiled coldly.
"Yes, you'll be having a muggle for Christmas. A muggle child. I'm sure it's a small sacrifice to pay for your father's innocence." With that, Snape pulled himself out of his chair and looked down at Draco. "See you tomorrow in class."
Snape turned on his heels and strode out the now empty common room. He was a little unnerved at Draco's lack of emotion, but it wasn't his business. The boy had always been insensitive.
Draco's eyes followed him out. He felt cold despite the warm fire. He was no longer in the mood for drawing. The serene beauty of the glittering landscape outside had lost its appeal. These were the times when he missed not having a best friend (or at least a best friend that could talk without drooling.)
"What will mother say when she finds out that her husband is coming home?" he thought. "Everything was going uphill since Potter ratted on my dad. But now he's coming back, just in time for Christmas. And a Mudblood is staying at our house." His eyes closed and he tried to fight back the wave of panic rising in his chest. He closed his eyes tighter until spots appeared, black and blue and then exploding into a painful display of red and orange fireworks. His breathing slowed and he opened his eyes to the now hazy common room. It had grown dark outside and the only memory of the snow was Draco's abandoned sketch.
Draco got to his feet and stared into the fireplace. The beetle was long gone by now. The flames leapt red hot and burning, but Draco shivered. The window wasn't open.