Draco was sleeping deeply by the time I got back; he was curled up between my parents, blonde head resting in my mother's lap

Draco was sleeping deeply by the time I got back; he was curled up between my parents, blonde head resting in my mother's lap as my father stared fixedly at the television on which a woman was, effectively, miming the day's news.

I hovered in the doorway, debating whether or not I should disturb this peaceful scene. But, just as I was about to turn away, my mother twisted her head around and motioned for me to wait.

"Where did you go?" she asked, pulling me away from the living room by my sleeve.

"I got a letter from Lucius Malfoy, so I went to see him. I did explain that," I said, a little irately. "But, as eve, no one paid me the slightest bit of attention…"

"Oh don't moan, Severus," my mother cut me off sharply, giving me one of her looks. She moved around the small wooden table which was placed in the exact middle of the kitchen and fingered the envelope in which my other, forgotten, letter was. "So, what has he got to say for himself?" she asked, eyes suddenly dark with an edge of danger. Merlin help Lucius if he ever came across her on a dark night!

"Not a lot," I replied. "He was sulking in his study and refused to talk to me. Did you find the clothes for Draco that I had left on the table."

"Yes. Do we know how long Draco will be staying with us for?"

"I think about a week," I said, removing the crumpled letter from my pocket and checking it. "Yes, a week. Just long enough for Lucius to sort his head out."

My mother pursed her lips, looking annoyed.

"What?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. It looked like she had a lot she wanted to say and I knew, from experience, that if she didn't get it off her chest quickly, she would suddenly explode. And that would not be pleasant for anyone who happened to be in the vicinity at the time.

"I think we should keep him."

My eyebrow travelled, if possible, even further up. "What?" I said again, convinced that I had misheard her.

"I don't feel comfortable with sending him home," she admitted, drawing out a chair and sitting down. "I mean…I don't know whether you know, but there are bruises on Draco's back and it looks to me like somebody's been beating that child. When I asked him about it, he refused to answer."

My mother looked at me, waiting for my reaction as if she expected the news to be new to me. I felt suddenly guilty; even though there was absolutely nothing that I could do to prevent it. I felt that I was as much to blame as Lucius was. But that probably had something to do with the fact that my mother was now glaring at me as though she dearly wished to throttle me.

"You knew about it, didn't you?" She gave a short, humourless laugh. "Of course you did- you were there for three years- how could you not?"

I looked down at my hands. "There's nothing I can do. Lucius refuses to listen to anybody. Don't look at me like that!" I snapped. "I do my best for Draco, even if that isn't enough, I still do my best! You don't know! You aren't there!" The volume of my voice rose as I got more and more worked up. Why was she always judging me? Why was it always my fault! "Anyway, since when did you become all caring and motherly because I can't ever remember you defending me this way!"

My mother's eyes flashed. "So, you think that I shouldn't care about Draco? You think that I ought to send him back home to where he is in danger, just because I didn't defend you as much as I could've when you were little?"

I wavered; she was repeating exactly what I had been thinking, but coming from her, it sounded different.

" 'Could've'?" I repeated furiously. " 'You didn't defend me as much as you could've'? You didn't even try! The only reason you are trying so hard for Draco, is because you feel guilty for being such a crap mother!"

If my mother had been angry before…well, let's just say that, had we been in a cartoon, smoke would now be billowing from her ears.

But, thankfully for me, before she could bite back, a little voice spoke up sleepily, "Sir, why're you yelling?"

My mother shut her mouth and walked stiffly over to the sink, turning her back on me.

Gathering myself together and forcing down my animosity, I greeted my godson. "Hey Dragon." Draco smiled tiredly and came over to sit on me. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was," he said, snuggling up to me. "But I woke up."

"I can see that."

"You went to see Father," Draco stated, playing absently with one of my hands. " 'Cause you got a letter from him."

"Mmm…" 'Oh god,' I thought. 'I'm going to have to talk to him about that…explain that absolutely nothing is going to change…'

"What did he say?" asked Draco, looking up at me. "Did he say when I'll be allowed to come home?"

"Not for a while yet," I told him. "He's still quite upset with what happened."

Draco frowned, not understanding. "But nothing happened to him. Why's he upset?"

"I don't know Dragon," I sighed. "You know what he can be like."

"Yeah…" Draco reached over the table and picked up the envelope that I hadn't opened yet and inspected it; carefully reading the front and then turning it over to trace the wax seal with his fingers. "Draco dormiens nuquam titillandus…" he murmured, squinting to read the words. "Draco…that's me!" he grinned up at me. "It's got my name on it!"

"Do you know what it means?" I asked, taking the envelope from him. Draco shook his head. "It means 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon'"

As though this was the funniest thing this side of sliced-bread, Draco burst into a spasm of giggles, which promptly turned into a coughing fit.

"Why does it say that?" he asked between gasps for breath.

"It's the motto for Hogwarts."

Draco's eyes widened. "You got a letter from Hogwarts?" he breathed as though it was the most amazing thing he had ever heard. "Why're they writing to you? I thought only kids got letters?"

"Well, how do you think the teachers find out that they're teachers?"

Draco thought about this very carefully. "Someone…tells them?"

"How? How do they tell them?"

"With a letter!" Draco said triumphantly. "So…so that means…wow!" he looked at me, awe-struck. "You're gonna be a teacher! That's amazing!"

If that comment had come from anyone else, I would have taken it as an insult.

"It's not that amazing. I was your teacher for a time, in case you don't remember."

Draco rolled his eyes as though I was being exceedingly dim. "Yeah, but that's different."

"How so?" I asked with a frown.

He shrugged with an air of Malfoy petulance. "It just is," he stated. "Aren't you going to read it?"

"Oh…yes," I had forgotten that I was holding it in my hand. My fingers felt for the flap on the envelope and I noticed, to my immense irritation, that it had already been opened.

My mother looked unbearably smug as I glared over in her direction.

"Don't you know," I said tetchily, "that it is the most inconsiderate thing to open other people's mail?"

"And don't you know," she retorted, "that mothers are allowed to."

I wasn't sure if that was technically true but, to be fair, I did sort of deserve it after our little falling out…even if she did do it before that…

"Open it!" Draco demanded, bouncing excitedly and making me wince.

Dear Mr Snape,

We are pleased to inform you that your application to join the teaching staff at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is currently being taken into consideration.

We invite you to attend a meeting regarding this on the 1st of July, 1988 to discuss it further. The meeting will be held at 2:30 pm in the Headmaster's office.

If you cannot make this time or date, or you have any questions, please contact Minerva McGonagall by owl as soon as possible to arrange a more convenient time.

We look forward to meeting you,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

(Headmaster)

Minerva McGonagall

(Deputy-Headmistress

"So, does that mean you've got the job?" Draco asked, eyes scanning the emerald lettering.

"No," I said, re-reading it. "I have to go to a meeting umm…when is it? The day-after-tomorrow." I looked down at him, "So, you'll be here on your own. Is that okay? Are you happy with that?"

"Of course he is," My mother snapped before Draco had a chance to answer. "Why shouldn't he be? Or don't you think I can be trusted?"

Okay, so I do have a reputation for holding grudges, but now you know where I get it from.

"I never said you couldn't be trusted," I pointed out coolly, becoming thoroughly annoyed with her. "I merely pointed out that your attitude seems to have changed."

"You called me a bad mother."

"You were a bad mother."

"And with a son as disagreeable as you, you can hardly blame me for thinking what happened was perfectly reasonable."

Draco sat very still throughout this exchange, looking very uncomfortable. It was only when a small hand wrapped itself around my wrist that I even remembered he was there.

"And as such," I finished, hugging Draco close as I glared at my mother, "I'm sure you can understand why I feel…less than happy with leaving my godson alone with you."

Her hurt burned into the back of my head like a white-hot poker as I swept Draco up and stormed from the stairs. There was no way I was going to let her make me feel guilty!

"Why are you and her so angry with each other?" Draco asked, clambering under the many layers of blankets on my old bed.

"It's complicated," I sighed, sitting down. "I daresay you'll understand when you're older."

Draco made a little growling noise and pulled a face. "I hate it when you say that!" he said with feeling. "How do you know I won't understand unless you tell me."

"Because," I replied firmly. "I do not want you to understand just yet. It will only cause you more problems than you already have."

Frowning deeply Draco watched my closely, as though, if he looked hard enough, he would be able to see into my mind. But an eight-year-old who has no clear idea of what he is doing would never be able get into an adult's mind. Although, it has been known for young wizards and witches to use Legilimensy on someone their own age…accidentally, of course.

"I guarantee that by the age of twenty," I offered by way of a consolation prize, "you will understand completely."

"I'll ask Father," my godson told me smugly. "Father knows most things."

"Not everything?" Now this was interesting; had we had this conversation six months ago, Draco would've have wasted no time in assuring me that his father was, in fact, the authority on everything.

"No," said Draco softly, turning away. "Not everything."

A/N: Short and made quickly...like fast food :D Hope you all liked it!

Lily xxx