Disclaimer : New chapter up ;) I finished typing chapter 13 a bit earlier today, I'll get chapter 14 started a bit later. You should get to read the next chapter tuesday, or wednesday, I now have a regular publishing pattern, as some of you must have notice ;)

En passant, I would like to precise one little fact : writing a 2,000 words long chapter takes me up to several hours (checking for language mistakes mainly, problems with the writing style, contradiction I might have created etc.), a time I might not always be able to spare, so there will be some weeks during which I will not be able to keep up with the two-chapter-a-week pattern. Although, considering that I study english at university, it is quite unlikely, and every time I find myself unable to publish a chapter, I'll make a point of mentioning it somewhere.

I'd like to thank those who added this little story to their favourites, as well as the two people who had been kind enough to leave a review!

I'm going to answer one of the reviews here : I do intend to make the relationship between Harry and Severus evolve; however, while the Severus Snape I write about here is somewhat "softer" than his counterpart in J.K Rowling's books, I view him as a highly unpleasant character, capable of measured humanity, stubborn as hell and unable to let the past go, the man lives in the past, his situation is a constant reminder of it, should there be any mentor relationship between Harry and Snape, it would be a painfully long process. Although I haven't planned out all the details just yet, so there's room for the unexpected ;)

Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy!

"If one doesn't talk about a thing, it has never happened. It is simply expression that gives reality to things."

Oscar Wilde

Draco's sleep was interrupted by a particularly loud snore from Goyle, he groaned and glanced at the clock; it read 7.30. Not very early then, and if Goyle's snore was any indication, Draco was the only one who was not sleeping in this dormitory and, considering it was a week-end day, it was no wonder that no one was up just yet. He let out a small irritated sigh, cursing his dorm mate for his untimely interruption, and decided to not linger in bed, even though he would have liked to doze off a bit. He silently grabbed clothes from his trunk at the foot of his bed, rummaging through the content for a moment before picking a green shirt and black trousers, and went to the bathroom, his eyes still red and puffy from sleep and his white-blonde hair messier than anyone had ever seen it.

He quickly took his shower, the water wiping away all traces of tiredness that had lingered on his face, and hastily put on his clothes while he carefully examined his reflection on the nearest mirror, as if to determine whether it would satisfy his father' s requirement about his son' s appearance. Not that he was obsessed with it, he just knew how much appearance could matter to other people and it could be the factor which made a difference between success and failure in business. It was not out of sheer vanity that he paid such a special attention to his looks, or so Draco liked to tell himself.

He then proceeded to flatten his hair upon his skull, using the magical lotion he had been using for years. It was little Draco' s morning routine, the one his father had made it a point to teach him, for keeping the appearances up was important, and this was the concept he had been drilling through his son' s head ever since he was born. According to Lucius Malfoy, "no proper wizard should show himself in public looking as if he has just been brawling in a stinking pub", well perhaps this was not the exact wording his father used, but it was close enough, Draco reckoned.

He exited the bathroom without further thought and went over to his bed noiselessly, so that he would not wake up his dorm mates (and if he was quite honest with himself, he did not want to have Crabbe and Goyle dogging his steps just yet), and he threw a cloak over his shoulders, an richly embroidered cloak and an expensive one too, just like many things he possessed, and promptly left the Slytherin dormitories.

He was greeted by the gloomy green glow constantly bathing the common room, adding a nice little touch of sinister to the already quite grim place. A few students were up, and they were scattered here and there, some whispering to each other over the black-wood table near the cracking fireplace while others were playing a lazy game of chess. No one paid attention to him as he walked by them, for which Draco was secretly glad, but he paid a particular attention to those present, so that he knew who was there and who was not there. He would greet those he had to greet later; staying in people' good books was not his utmost priority this morning, and decorum could wait one hour or two, he decided. He threw one last lazy glance over his shoulder and quietly left the Slytherin sanctuary for the cold and poorly-lit dungeons.

He shivered as he stepped out of the common room : at least, their Head of House made sure that they were warm enough in there, however, the same could not be said about the damp dungeons, the forbidding passage leading both in and out of the snake pit. He chuckled softly at the thought, "snake pit" indeed, except Slytherins, no one cared to come down in this part of the castle and for good reasons too : Slytherins mostly kept to themselves, and they did not tolerate students from other houses "visiting" them down here, the common room was a haven for them, their haven, and no one could threaten that.

Draco made his way towards the Great Hall, passing by Professor Snape' s office and classroom, both near the dormitories, just in case of emergency, and when he finally reached the main stairs, he was dazzled by the bright sunlight filtering through the high windows. Spots of light appeared before his eyes and he tried to blinked them away as he was walking by the Slytherin hourglass, which was very well filled indeed and the result of the Umbridge Policy, as some liked to call it. He smirked and motioned toward the door; he pushed them open, and the Great Hall was now full into his view, a sweet scent fulfilling the whole place, bathed in a rich honey colour. He settled at his house table and helped himself as properly as a hungry teenager could help himself and dug his spoon into the hot oatmeal he had chosen for breakfast, eating with all the dignity one could have when having breakfast. The Slytherin students were no exception to the rule : very few students were up before 9.00 AM on week-end days, and today proved to be a very normal Saturday, because very few students were in the Great Hall. The idiotic Creevey brothers were at the Gryffindor table, chatting excitedly over some stupid little scheme with an older student and whose name escaped Draco. The Hopkins were at the Ravenclaw table, Ariel and Darius came from the same well-esteemed Pureblood family and they often attended the galas organised by his mother; therefore, Draco had to be on good terms with them both, which was something quite unpleasant to do. Should he be asked his thoughts about the two of them, he would affirm that Darius Hopkins was a dim-witted idiot and his sister was a permanently-giggling chick, traits that did not go well around Draco. He then peered at the Hufflepuff table, at which several isolated students were having breakfast. Draco shrugged, not paying any further attention to them, and moved about on the bench he was sat on to have a good look at the Staff table. Many teachers were present, including that oaf of Hagrid, which inspired him nothing but disgust, and even Trelawney was there, which was in itself surprising because the barmy overgrown bug was known to never ever left her tower. Dumbledore' s seat was noticeably empty though, and so was Professor Snape' s. Now that he thought of it, Draco did not remember seeing him last night, in the common room; he slightly frowned at this : while he knew that the professor was a busy man, he was always at his (Slytherin, that goes without saying) students' disposal, should they need advice or help. While he was not exactly a caring man, he usually dropped off his customary aloofness whenever he was around them, a development that would surprise many other students who could not imagine how the words "Snape" and "caring" could be put together into one sentence. Draco knew the Potions Master had his reasons to act the way he did, but he also knew that he was an intensely private man who kept to himself, and, therefore, prying into his business would not be the wisest thing to do. He was quite an austere man, even in Slytherins' eyes, and if truth was to be told, some students were even put off by this behaviour and the Professor had to reach out said students himself if they needed anything.

Draco quickly dismissed his train of thought, but as he turned back to his bowl, an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach.

The first thing he was aware of when he came back to consciousness was the soreness that seemed to squeeze his body; he did not try to move though, knowing just how painful it would be to do so, but he tried to assess his surroundings as he cracked open one eye. White bed sheets, white curtains drawn around the bed, the morning sun, a scent he had come to know so well. His eyes shot open, the Hospital Wing, how unsurprising.

He cautiously turned his head and threw a look around him, waiting for Poppy to make an appearance, as she always did whenever Severus landed in her lair after a meeting with the Dark Lord and, more generally, whenever one of her "patients" awoke. And, indeed, he was not disappointed when the curtains were drawn, revealing the tired-looking matron who gave him an appraising kind of look. She drew her wand from her pocket and swiftly began to cast spells without her usual fussing.

He arched an eyebrow at her, but this went voluntarily unnoticed by Poppy, who was way too used to Severus' mannerism as her patient to even care about it; something they wished were otherwise, for it was a clear indicator of just how often Severus required the Healer' s skills.

A frown appeared on her face as one spell gave off a dark red colour, a frown that did not leave her face as she went on with her examination. Once it was over, she looked up to him, there was a pause during which the both of them merely stared at each other, waiting for the matron's verdict.

Finally, she spoke up, though hesitation crept in her voice :

"Nerve damage, Severus"

He looked at her straight in the eye, waiting for more to come

- Extensive nerve damage, it will linger for god knows how long. I usually can cure the most of it whenever you're back from...from there, she added lamely. However, he's caused more damage this time, damage that cannot be healed for the moment.

He emotionlessly heard out what Poppy told him, realising the real extend of what she was announcing. It was not something he did not expect, in fact, he had been waiting for Poppy to finally tell him that his constant exposure to the Dark Lord' s little tantrums had taken such a toll on him that it could no longer be healed. He exhaled a long breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

- Albus will have to reconsider sending you to You-Know-Who if he wants you to be still alive by the end of the year, Poppy intoned.

Of course, Albus would have to reconsider the whole thing, Severus and him both knew that they would eventually have to reconsider it, but they never voice it aloud. Ignoring unsaid things was so much easier, putting words onto such things made everything so...realer, so much more concrete. Like a vicious little monster, locked in the depths of their minds, lurking and waiting for its time to come, when, at last, its existence could no longer ignored, for someone had set it free, ravaging everything the Order had worked hard to build.

These last months had cast a doubt on their minds, a doubt that would have gone almost unnoticed by both parties, had Poppy refrained from saying it out loud, and dismissing it now was impossible.

Severus' position was now doomed, well, it had always been so but Poppy' s words had dispelled any lingering uncertainty. Oh, Severus had sometimes toyed with the idea that he might live through this war, but this notion had just been swept off by the matron' s announcement.

- If I had a say on the matter, Severus, Poppy continued, I would not send you back there again.

He threw her an incredulous look. Clearly, it had to be serious, because Poppy knew just how much was at stake, how important Severus' role was and how sorry all of them would be should Severus..."quit" his position.