Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling. If it were mine it wouldn't have found its way out from under my bed and nobody would know its fantabulous tale!
Rating: PG (may go up or down depending on where it goes)
Word Count: 1,311 A/N: Uh…this is my first time writing Snape, so I'm a bit nervous. Please give me Snape feedback on how he can be improved and if he sounds correct. I'm trying to make him very cold and uncaring even though Draco is going through a hard time…Snape knows that Draco is a strong person and should be able to cope…anyway… I also wish to say although I'm not bringing out this chapter as late as some people do but this could have been done earlier. Instead I have been at very long production rehearsals! Great fun! But very, very, draining.
Chapter 3: Conspiring Concoctions
Draco was stretched out on a three-seater couch in the Slytherin common room.
A conspiring smirk gracing his pale features.
Draco Malfoy was pleased and plotting. A good thing for him and his friends, but usually not for Gryffindors.
"Draco"
The conspiring smirk was instantly replaced with an aggravated scowl.
"What, Pansy?" snapped Draco.
Pansy's dropped onto Draco's stomach. Unfortunately for Draco, Pansy wasn't a very light girl.
Draco gasped for air, his lungs seemingly crushed by the girl above him. "Get off Parkinson!" he gasped
Pansy only settled herself more comfortably. "No, I'm quite comfortable where I am," she replied with a smile and reached towards his chest in a rather provocative position.
"Don't you dare do what I think your going to do, Parkinson!" wheezed Draco.
Pansy merely smirked and pulled Draco's wand out of his robe pocket and stood up.
"Give my wand back, Pansy," drawled Draco. "I'm not in the mood for your games"
"I want you to tell me what happened at the trial." Pansy smiled coldly. "You still haven't told any of us what happened. All of the papers say that it's to be continued at a later date"
Draco shifted in his seat. "I'd rather "
"– Mr Malfoy! I need to talk to you immediately!" interrupted the cold voice of the Potions Master.
Draco turned his head towards the common room entrance. "I'm listening professor," drawled Draco and began to attempt wrestling his wand off Pansy.
"MALFOY!" The professor's voice silenced the common room completely. "In my study. Immediately." With that he turned on heel back towards the potions rooms.
Draco yanked his wand out of Pansy's hand and stalked after the professor.
"And you thought you'd get away with this, Mr Malfoy?" Asked Snape, pacing behind his desk. He looked like an over sized bat or a raven, swooping over the heads of frightened onlookers.
Only Draco wasn't frightened.
"It'd be stupid to say yes, now, wouldn't it?" drawled Draco. His eyes wandered across the multiple shelves of pickled animals and plants that lined Snape's private study. It suited him perfectly. Dark, dreary and yet somewhat elegant without being too much so. So unlike the Malfoy Manor, which, in Draco's opinion, was far too abundant with Persian rugs and crystal chandeliers. On various occasions Draco could remember his father saying how he much preferred the dungeons to the main house, 'I flatly refused to let your mother touch them. They'd only end up pink and frilly'
It was the first and last time Draco was to hear his father say 'pink and frilly'.
"– poisoning a fellow student is a serious offence, Mr Malfoy! Not only your respect to the student body is dropping, during this past week I have seen a serious lapse in your respect towards me, boy," sneered the Potions Master cutting through Draco's thoughts.
Draco opened his mouth to object.
"Don't even attempt to talk your way out of this one"
The young Malfoy nodded slightly, focusing on a particularly large jar. "Yes sir"
Snape stopped pacing and sat down at his large, darkly stained desk. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he snapped.
Draco raised his eyes to meet Snape's. "How could you –what in Merlin's name"
It was the first time Draco had ever heard Professor Snape fumble a sentence. His speech was always perfectly eloquent.
"What?" Drawled Draco. Inside he was desperately trying to conceal his thoughts by increasing his usually light shield of Occlumency. Unfortunately Snape, a well-trained Legimist, had already seen right through the light shield and straight to his thoughts before he could increase it.
It was too late. Draco had opened his mind accidentally in frustration.
The greasy haired professor gasped for breath at the amount of emotions and feelings he was seeing.
And feeling.
Draco too saw memories flashing before his eyes, but worst of all was the wave of emotions that came with it.
Hatred
Anger
Sadness
Grief
Depression
"Protego!" said Draco, his voice pained. Instantly the vision disappeared and Snape's study reappeared.
The Potions Master ran a shaky, pallid hand through his long hair, picked up a feather quill and began writing with fervor on a long roll of parchment.
Draco simply sat there silently looking ashen. His hands were trembling in his lap. What had Snape seen? Had he seen the same things as him or had he only seen more fragmented pieces?
Finally Snape looked up and handed the parchment to Draco.
Draco rolled it up and put it in his pocket next to his wand.
"I'd prefer you to read that now, Mr Malfoy," said Snape quietly, obviously still quite shaken.
Draco eyed the parchment, which was quite clearly a potion formula.
A three foot long potion formula.
"What's it for?" he asked dully.
Snape glared at him with pitiless eyes. "You will make this potion during your detentions with me after dinner every night for a fortnight"
Draco nodded and scowled sullenly. "And what is it called? There was no name on it."
Snape scowled and snatched the parchment out of Draco's hands. "I am not allowing you to know the name of this potion. It can be misused by those who do not know its full potential," he spat, his cold, black eyes narrowing viciously.
"Then why not educate me on this potion?" drawled Draco. "Or do you really think I'm stupid enough to take potions that I don't know that full effect of"
"You're only sixteen, Draco," hissed Snape, glowering at Draco. "The average sixteen year old will only look at the top of the page and see an enticing heading to cure all of their adolescent quandaries – "
"– then test me," interrupted Draco, his eyes bright with fervour. "You think I'm an average, run of the mill, adolescent. If you're so sure, then test me"
Severus Snape's eyes narrowed. "Fine," he snarled. "What was the thirty second ingredient listed?" He sneered slightly.
Draco's eyes went unfocused for a moment. "Mugwort," he said slowly, a broad smirk on his lips.
Snape looked down at the parchment in front of him. "Correct, Malfoy," he said coldly. "What was the fourteenth process?" he ground out between clenched teeth.
"Stir in the beetle wings and wolfsbane, but leave half of the wings for the twentieth step." Draco blinked, losing information rapidly. "Do you want me to tell you the twentieth step, Professor?" he asked brightly.
Snape glared coldly at Draco. "Spare me the Granger act and your insolence Malfoy. I know you're an actor," he sneered.
Draco shifted into a more comfortable position in his chair. "You don't have to rub it in," he said coldly and rubbed his temples. "I get enough of that from mother. You know, for the first time ever she actually encouraged me…it was right before the trial: 'Draco, darling how about I dress you in these lovely blue robes for the trial. You'll look so sweet compared to that ugly black you're so attached too." Draco snorted slightly and raised himself up from his chair. "Is that it, Sir? Detention for the next fortnight"
Snape eyed the boy for a moment. "No. I also wish to talk to you more often. The amount of emotions you had built up inside you, Mr Malfoy was quite worrying." And the negativity of them too , he though to himself. "I have never met anyone who has been able to keep that level of an emotional state and not end up in St. Mungo's. It is truly remarkable you have been able to keep a steady face through these hard time"
Draco looked down at the heavy signet ring on his right hand. "I'm guessing that's not a compliment," sighed Draco.
"It depends who you are," sneered Snape.
A/N: Okay. My spacing has stuffed up on this site. That's really annoyed me… hope you enjoyed it! R&R!
Happy reading!
Bright Eyes