Disclaimer: nothing you recognize is mine. Something you don't recognize is not mine either.
-Text in italics in dashes (-) asterisks means Parseltongue.-
Please let me know if it is difficult to read and I will mark it differently.
A long a/n about delays and such at the end of this chapter.
to def
whose persistent bagering :-P made this chapter appear earlier than it might have
I love you, my dear :)
Draco's POV
Draco Apparated alongside Ronald Weasley to the edge of the property he'd heard so much about. After a short procedure of being included into the impressive wards he overstepped the low stone hedge marking it and almost tripped over his feet at the sight that opened before is eyes. The house, and he now understood that it was called 'shack' literally was a one-storied, slope-roofed structure hardly larger than Hagrid's hut.
He hurried after Ron across the overgrown garden and they entered a tiny empty kitchen pausing at the sound of loud voices coming from the nearby room.
"…Would you shut up and listen, Snape?…"
Ron's eyes widened and he was about to barge into through the door, but Draco managed to tug at his sleeve, "Wait. And listen. Do you really want her to hex you in spite of Severus?"
Hermione's teacher voice reminded him of the etiquette lessons at the Manor and many a useless tradition beaten into his head. Why was not the one she was speaking of mentioned even once?
He exchanged glances with Ron and the two of them were about to go through the door separating the kitchen from the rest of the house when through it came Harry, leading a teary-eyed and very upset Hermione. Ron immediately was at her side, giving silent support while the witch was trying to regain composure.
Harry nodded at him and went to join the couple at the table, squeezing his left shoulder as he passed. It took all Draco's self-control not to wince at the red-hot stab of pain that shot through him at the touch.
Focusing on the reason why he got to the shack the young man crossed the kitchen and paused at the door, nearly overwhelmed with the dread that rose in his gut making him want to throw up. What was it you said to the one adult in your life who never betrayed you and saved your life knowing that by doing so he was pushing you away, possibly forever?
Pulling his aristocratic mask onto his resisting face for the first time in months Draco crossed the threshold and paused once more. Snape was slumped against the far wall, his face completely hidden in his stringy black hair. He never moved when Draco entered the room and the young man had an acute feeling his teacher had not noticed his presence, which was a very disturbing thought. Every time he was forced to interact with the older wizard during the months after their flight from Hogwarts he was under the impression that Snape had extra eyes in the back of his head and extra ears on his heels. (1)
Clearing his throat, Draco took several steps forward, masking his hesitance in the practiced ease of his strut. Severus' head shot up and Draco's mask almost slipped at seeing a kaleidoscope of emotions on the usually impenetrably scowling face.
Shamed annoyance with the need to apologize to the returning Potter and Granger gave way to gratifying confusion and finally recognition. The man was staring at him as if he were a ghost of a person whom he had been certain to pass over to the afterlife.
The silence was quickly becoming deafening and Draco said the only thing that came to his mind, a "Good evening, Professor Snape," vividly remembering all the times during his Hogwarts years when he barged into Snape's office with one thing or the other.
"Mister Malfoy," acknowledged the older wizard, his face slowly assuming the too-well-known 'you're wasting my time' scowl, "to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you today?"
Taking another step forward on his lead-filled legs Draco looked his former Head of the House straight in the eyes, something he avoided doing ever since the Dark Lord's order to murder Dumbledore, and mumbled in a voice he himself had difficulty understanding, "'M sorry."
Snape raised an eyebrow, clearly having not heard his words, or feigning not understanding.
Annoyed with himself and wanting nothing more than to say the words, whether he was believed or not, Draco shook his head and started again, "I am grateful for your help, Sir… And that you took the… the… IT upon yourself…" mortified with the pathetic blabbering that escaped his mouth and his weak inability to speak out loud of that one murder after he had witnessed and been in part responsible of for so many others, he felt the blush start on his cheeks and continued, "And I'm sorry I was being such an jerk that whole year." He nearly bit his tongue out admitting to the rest of it, "I was… confused. And you scared the shit out of me… I was certain that you were going to the Dark Lord any day and telling him I was reluctant and weak…" he had never blushed so hard in his life… "because of how well you were always able to read me."
Still refusing to drop down his gaze Draco noted with profound relief that some of the stoniness left Snape's face and then he did something Draco had never saw the Potions Master do to anyone in the whole course of his life, for he really could not remember a time in his childhood when he wouldn't spend an occasional hour with him learning Potions or the basics of Defense. The man leaned forward placing both his hands on Draco's shoulders and gave them the slightest squeeze. Just ask quickly he let go, leaving the young Slytherin to wonder if he imagined the gesture, when a softly spoken, "Draco," gave him all the acceptance he'd hoped for.
Finally letting his mask drop he smiled slightly and went to lean against the same wall as Snape when his left arm started throbbing worse than ever. He gritted his teeth and struggled to muffle his groan, clutching the Dark Mark's site with his good hand.
Snape's brow creased in what, for him, was a concerned expression, and with an insistent, "May I?" he gently took hold of Draco's limp limb, pushing his robe off his shoulders and rolling up the blood- and gore-soaked sleeve of the shirt.
Shuddering, the young man glanced at his arm and was nearly thick at the sight of the wound from which red inflamed arrows shot right up to his shoulder. (2)
After a moment thick mist started oozing from the brand forming into an almost solid diamond-shaped head of an asp that started hissing loudly. Draco's heart almost stopped when the by now familiar sounds of Parseltongue spilled out of his Professor's mouth.
For an eternity the snake swiveled in the air, glancing at him with its unblinking stare, flicking its forked tongue at Snape, and then, after a commanding sounding hiss of the latter it rose from his arm and dissipated into thin air nearly touching… the Parselmouth?!
Severus' POV
Fascinated, he watched the gracious head of an asp rise from the awful wound. Bowing slightly at him, the snake started hissing, causing his hair to rise.
It was all Severus could do not to flinch back when the hissing formed into an oily voice that made his best lilt sound plain in comparison, -Hail, s-speaker. Do you s-sink I does-s a good work des-stroying the young traitor? Mas-ster ordered I s-slithers-s to his-s other arm s-srough his-s heart if I don't s-sens-s mas-ster's-s presenc-ce anymore-
-What?! How?!- he gasped, not able to believe what he was hearing.
-Mas-ster made me able to s-sens-se when he needs-s him,- the snake's head turned contemptuously towards its bearer, -but the s-snakeling refuses-s to come to the mas-ster. He cas-sts-s winter and I hybernates-s. Mas-ster is-s angry.-
His heart hammering, Snape tried to think of anything to say to the asp to delay its return to the deadly task it was so efficient at.
-What did you master do to you when you failed to call him,- he didn't dare to even glance at Draco, lest the serpent read something suspicious in his expression, to your master?
The snake flicked its tongue furiously and for a second Snape thought it was going to strike, but it hissed in a voice of pure venom, -Each time I fails-s mas-ster kills-s one of my eggs-s.-
-Are you certain?- he queried, his mind racing a mile a minute.
-Of course I is-s, -the snake rised even higher, -mas-ster shows-s me.-
-But if your master is gone, he cannot hurt your eggs anymore,- Snape continued, trying to soothe the serpent.
It flicked its tongue again and seemed to deflate slightly.
-Mas-ster?- the asp asked in confusion, flicking its tongue some more. -Mas-ster, I s-smells-s you, why can't I s-sens-se you?-
Did his Dark Mark's residue 'smell' like Voldemort to the snake? Why did it not notice the semblance earlier? And above all, how could and enchanted tattoo havelaid eggs?!
These and tens of other questions swirled in Snape's mind before being replaced with the only urgent one, should he, or should he not use the Mark's error to his advantage.
Deciding to test the grounds first, he hissed meaningly, -What was said to you would happen to your eggs if you didn't destroy him when you could no more sense your master?-
The implied menace seemed to resolve the Mark's hesitation. It cowered in front of the wizard in much the same boneless way Death Eaters did with incensed Voldermort and begged haltingly, -Forgive me mas-ster. I returns-s to the s-sneaky traitor and s-summons-s him to your presenc-ce at onc-ce. Please s-spare my eggs-s.-
Putting everything on one carte Snape spoke up, trying and not knowing how to imitate Voldemort as much as possible, dragging to the forefront of his mind the numerous occasions the Dark wizard hissed with Nagini in his presence.
-Mas-ster is pleased with the punishment you already delivered to the little traitor.- Steeling himself against a sudden spike of fear he extended his left hand to the now slightly blurry snake's head. -Come to master. He will take you to your eggs. Your service is over.-
The asp started rising higher and higher from Draco's arm and suddenly dissipated, almost touching the sleeve of his robe. With a rustle of air in which Severus thought he heard a dying whisper, -Free.- it was now gone.
His knees would have given out with the enormous relief he felt and a sudden wave of fatigue, had the young man whose left arm he was still holding with his right not rushed forward and steadied him, simultaneously yelling for Granger to come into the room at once.
"I am perfectly alright, Draco," he said in annoyance, forcing himself to straighten out… and suddenly slid down the wall to the floor as the shock of this last bizarre turn of events caught up with him.
A/n:
(1) I felt this way once, when showing Moscow underground to a couple of friends who didn't speak Russian NOR English, and it would have been horrible had they gotten lost. It's very tiring, and I may only commiserate with those who are forced to live this way.
(2) Exactly like a dirty wound when a blood poisoning starts.
Note:
I will say now what I intended to say in the last chapter, for long author's notes are tiresome and look bad after or before the text of the story, and not return to it.
I don't intend to abandon the story, however much real life my be getting in the way. In the unlikely event of it happening however, a note with the short overview of events will definitely appear as a last chapter of sorts.
This particular chapter however was delayed as much by Draco Malfoy, who as you know, ran off the the shack. I didn't know he was there nor did I know who and what he was. So I had to get to know, and you see with Slytherins... its a very difficult thing to do... ;)
As an adult, I see it beneath me to beg for reviews, yet as an author – as it being natural for me to crave them :) Thus I am expressing my profound gratitude to all those who have taken time to drop me a line, and those who have added the story to their alerts and favorites lists.
The story doesn't have a beta (yet? I'm still looking for one), so what mistakes appear are completely my fault.
Until next time.
Kehlen.
