The plan the Order had finally decided on had taken most of the night to finalize. Or at least it felt that way to Draco. For a group of rebels acting against the ministry they were amazingly cautious. He was glad he had insisted on being part of the planning, as there were many defenses on Malfoy Manor that even Snape didn't know. And they seemed to be relying on Snape for most of their information.
This worried Draco considerably, but, from what he could tell, so far it had all been accurate.

When Snape had walked into Dumbledore's office earlier Draco had thought there was a mistake, that the professor would send the potions master packing before the Order arrived. Instead he had started up a pleasant conversation, drinking his tea, and keeping one eye on Draco.

It was clear that Snape was a spy for one side or the other, but if he was really working for the Order he was a better actor than Draco would have ever imagined. Draco had seen Snape worship at the Dark Lord's feet, had seen him torture muggles and muggleborns. Draco was fairly certain he had been among those watching his own punishment over Christmas break.

Draco watched the man he had known his entire life chat with Kingsley, the rather impressive man that Draco recognized from the ministry. His own father had been second only to Snape in the Dark Lord's favor. He had been trying to help Draco with his task all year long. Or maybe just trying to find out about it…Draco shook his head and tried to stifle a yawn - it had been a very long few days. Unfortunately Dumbledore had seen.

"Ahh, it would seem that time has gotten away from us again. Thank you all, so much, for coming. I will be seeing you all very soon. But, for now, I must insist," the headmaster waved a grand sweeping gesture towards the fireplace and the adults of the Order began slowly making their way. Most of them cast glances in Draco's direction, but only Tonks seemed inclined to actually speak to him before leaving.

"Wotcha Draco, I must say I was surprised." She had a cheerful grin, and was speaking to him as though they were long time palls. "I'm glad to see you here. Listen, I won't be saying anything to my parents 'course, but, you're welcome 'round if you ever want. After this is all over. You are family after all." Draco almost stumbled backwards in surprise as the witch in front of him changed her hair and eyes to match his exactly. He had heard something about her being a metamorphagus, but had never really considered it before. She shot him a smirk that was Malfoy through and through – even without changing her facial features, and laughed jovially as she spun to take her turn at the fireplace. Draco quickly steadied the table in from of him that she had almost knocked over before turning to leave himself, shaking his head.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, it appears it is rather past curfew, if you wouldn't mind waiting a few moments Professor Snape will be able to accompany you to your dorm."

Draco was more than capable of making it to his dorm undetected - sans meddling Potter - but that was something he would rather like to keep to himself.

"Certainly."

Draco turned to take his previous seat in the corner. Not in Dumbledore's or Snape's direct eye line, but close enough to still hear what they were saying. Not that he expected much but, any information helped.

"Severus, I would have you continue what you were doing before. Adjusted of course, to account for new circumstances."

Snape merely gave him a curt nod.

"I also will be away again for a few days following this. I need you to watch Hogsmeade. I do not suspect anything obvious. But you know what to watch for."

Another curt nod.

"I also suspect Mr. Malfoy here will have a few questions for you." Draco straightened at the sound of his name, and he saw Snape's spine stiffen, tensing "I have no authority to tell you what to say but, I would suggest candor over subversion. When you came to me many years ago your motivations were not dissimilar from Mr. Malfoy's here. Trust in each other is one of the strongest weapons we wield in times such as these."

Snape did not nod this time, only stared at the headmaster, a fury in his eyes that had sent many students running. Eventually he turned and walked stiffly straight to the door and Draco hastened to follow.

"Sleep well Mr. Malfoy. I am glad you came to us today."

Imitating the potions mater Draco nodded curtly at the old man before exiting behind the quickly disappearing cloak of his professor.

"Snape."

The professor didn't falter in his quick stride.

"Snape!"

This time he slowed almost imperceptibly - but enough for Draco to catch up to him.

"What do you think you're playing at?"

Even though he had drawn parallel to the older man, he was still ignored.

"So, which is it then? Dumbledore or the Dark Lord? Though, I imagine either way getting to watch me and my mother tortured is just an added bonu -"

The grip on Draco's arm was so sharp he almost didn't notice that he was being shoved back into the wall - almost.

"Keep your voice down boy!"

Draco rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything back. He had meant to needle Snape to get him to respond, but, now that he was, Draco had no desire to push him further. Unfortunately, Snape seemed to take Draco's silence as cooperation and he turned to continue their trek down to the dungeons.

"No, Snape. We are not done."

The look on Snape's face surpassed any Draco had seen before. Unconsciously Draco drew back, putting more space between them. He had hardly been more intimidated when standing next to the Dark Lord. In fact, this may be worse. This was more… personal, more emotional - though he had never expected to describe his potion's master and old family friend as such.

"No, we certainly are not done. However, if you continue to shout about the Dark Lord in the school hallways I will have no problem ensuring that you will never utter another word again. Am I… Understood?"

Snape had always been a constant figure in Draco's life. As a child he had almost been like an uncle, not quite an authority figure, but not someone to cross either. More like, someone he could go to when he simply wished to get away from his parents - but that his parents didn't mind him going to. That had started to change around Draco's third or fourth year at school. Whether that was simply because of age, time, or the renewed rise of the Dark Lord, Draco was not sure. He also was not sure whether or not he regretted the change.

Certainly, more this year than any other, Snape's attentions had chaffed. But even before his task he had been straining at the supervision, all of his movements being watched. The other students, they got away from that kind of personal attention while at school, were free to act how they wanted, be friends with who they wanted.
But Draco had always had Snape there, watching him, reporting on him. Not that he had ever really wanted to do anything that Snape or his parents would particularly disapprove of. Well… until recently. But just knowing that he wouldn't have been able to had worn on him, caused him to pull away from his once almost-mentor. But Snape had pulled away too, or at least hadn't seemed to mind when Draco had.

Regardless of the reasons, it had been years since Draco had intentionally sought out any sort of conversation with Snape, years since he had wandered by Snape's office for a chat about potions. Draco's step faltered slightly as Snape walked past the old familiar office door without a second glance. Draco had assumed that they would be speaking in there - if they were to speak. Unless Snape didn't actually intend to speak at all and was just using this as an excuse to get Draco to his dorms without having to deal with the inevitable complaints any longer than necessary.

Draco was about to say something, demand that the professor speak to him, when he almost ran straight into the now stationary man. Barely sparing him a glance, Snape took out his wand and tapped an intricate pattern on the bare brick wall of the dungeons. Even used to secret doors, and hidden rooms Draco had to shake his head slightly as the outline of a entryway appeared in the brick - it was so subtle, even if it had been visible before Snape's spell, Draco wasn't altogether sure he wouldn't have walked past without noticing anyway.

Thought the 'wall' was still there – if a little opaque Snape stepped forward, disappearing behind it, and Draco followed. Even when Draco and Snape had been close, Draco had never been to Snape's private rooms, had never even considered the fact. It seemed almost - irreverent. Privacy was one of Snape's defining characteristics, and entering a space that 'his' seemed intrusive and uncomfortable, despite the obvious invitation to be there.

The room was disappointingly, well… regular. Small, but neat. The sitting room that served as entry way housed a fireplace on one wall, while bookshelves lined another. A surprisingly comfortable looking pair of lounge chairs and table were between the two leaving a path off to the third wall with a door leading, Draco assumed, to the bedroom or kitchen. The color scheme of dark wood and leather made the whole room seem rich in the light of the fireplace that Snape had just lit. The one weird thing about the room was the lack of personal effects - or rather, not weird thing - as it was Snape's room.

Turning from the fireplace Snape gestured at Draco to take a chair while he grabbed a glass and bottle of dark amber liquor from a small bar next to the door. It wasn't until he had poured himself a rather large serving of what Draco was sure was a very expensive scotch that Snape took the remaining seat and eyed Draco over his glass, slowly swirling the liquor before taking a small sip.

Now that he was here, Draco wasn't entirely sure where to start. If Snape was loyal to the Dark Lord his, and his mother's life, were in immediate danger. If he was loyal to Dumbledore… Well, that would be better but still wrong, somehow. It would mean he had betrayed them - all of them. Himself, his father, everyone.

Either way, Draco was sure he would not be happy with Snape by the end of this conversation. And, he was sure this would not be a particularly enjoyable conversation. He eyed the class in his professor's hand, if he ever had needed a drink, it would certainly be now. Of course, even if just out of impulse, Snape would refuse. Draco would just have to not give him the opportunity.
Eyes not leaving Snape's he pulled his wand from his rob to summon himself a glass and the bottle of liquor from the small table. Snape's eyebrows contracted slightly, but he made no move to interfere, so Draco poured himself his own drink, though slightly less full than Snape had poured for himself.

He had been right, the liquor was certainly expensive, and certainly a scotch, and it left a trail of tingling fire down Draco's throat after his first sip. Draco closed his eyes softly; taking a deep breath before starting… whatever it was that was about to start. Both Draco and Snape were used to people quelling under their looks, and as such neither was accustomed to being the first to speak in situations like these - situations where they wanted information from the other. However experienced Draco was in getting others to speak, he felt quite sure that Snape would be just as happy not talking, so it fell on him to begin.

"Lovely scotch Severus, what is it, '83?"

Snape just stared at him, Draco was fairly certain he had never called him Severus before, it had felt weird coming off of his tongue. Apparently not shocking enough to get the man to start talking though.

"I prefer the '85 myself, more smoky, great balance. But the sweetness in this is… interesting." Still no response. "I love the room, by the way, the personal touches really add to it - you know? It is just obvious how loved you are, surrounded by so many mementos and memories." This was infuriating. He was mocking Snape, trying to get a rise out of him, anything out of him, but he was unaffected. Fine, if Snape wanted him to be direct he would be.

"So, are you a Death Eater or a traitor? Not sure which is worse, myself, but it seems those are your only two options."

Finally Snape reacted, a small dangerous smile forming on his thin lips. "Something we have in common then, it would seem."

"I believe I made my intentions rather clear tonight, Snape, in case you didn't notice."

"Yes… you came to the Order, worked with them, gave them information... Much as I did, it would seem."

"It is not the same Snape, and you know it. You have my life in your hands - are you going to deliver it to the Dark Lord or Dumbledore?"

Snape smirk widened even more "An interesting choice. A mad man or, well… A mad man. Neither one a very secure place to keep a life."

They fell into silence again, and Draco took the opportunity to appreciate another few swallows of the burning liquor, causing his slightly cracked lips to burn after he licked them.
This was the great thing about liquor, Draco thought, you can feel it. Other drinks, you only tasted, but liquor was physical, visceral, every part of your body feeling it. He took another deep swallow, before turning back to look at the dark man across from him, shadows dancing over the familiar, sharp face cast by the fire beside them, making his expression impossible to read.

"It is simple Draco. You wish to know of my loyalties, and I wish to know of yours. You allowed me tonight to see that you were telling no obvious lies. I need more."

"You want to get further inside my mind? Determine my sincerity? Right. Let me just open up my mind to the Dark Lord's most trusted follower while I plot against him. Anything else you want? My liver maybe? A pair of lungs? I will be as well-off without those as I would be with you in my mind!" Draco took a deep breath. Possibly he was a little frightened. The idea of Snape wanting to get through his occlemency barriers was not a good one and, Draco knew, Snape could force himself through if he wanted, shatter the barriers Draco had in place. The barriers there to protecting himself, protect his mother, protect Hermione… "The problem of your loyalty remains surprisingly unaddressed."

"If I am satisfied with what I find, I will allow you a similar curtsey." Snape didn't flinch as he said this, but it was almost as though the room itself contracted around them. Inside Snape's mind? That was something he never wanted to see. But… He wouldn't trust any words from them man. The fact remained however, that it would require Draco to open his mind to someone whose loyalties he did not know. He could be handing Snape the proof he needed just to have him turn around and hand it to the Dark Lord.

"I still do not understand why you are doubting me in the first place, Snape. What possible reason would the Dark Lord have for having me ask for my mother to be rescued?"

"You mean what would the Dark Lord possibly gain from having a handful of the leading members of the Order of the Phoenix literally show up on his doorstep?" Snape looked at him like he had just fouled up a simple potion.

Draco went to take another drink from his tumbler only to find it empty. Disgruntled, Draco leaned forward to pour himself another glass.

"Picking up some of your father's less desirable habits, Draco?"

He only glared before continuing to fill his glass. Only a few people, apparently including Snape, were aware just how much his father drank. It didn't show, he didn't slur or stumble like what you imagine when you hear 'drunk'. But, the few times Draco had seen his father completely sober had been - well, terrifying. He tried not to think about it. Draco didn't really mind his father drinking. It kept him calm.
And anyway, two glasses of scotch on a night like tonight was hardly uncalled for.

Draco tried to weigh his options, but he didn't really have them. He was sure if he did not allow Snape into his mind the professor would force it. If that happened Draco would have no control over what the professor saw. If he allowed it, well, he could pick and choose. Show Snape just enough to make him see. But, not everything, not all of his doubts about the cause - only his sincerity in asking for help. Theoretically.

Draco looked at Snape, searching, but finding nothing. He downed his newly poured drink in one long, quick movement.

"Okay."

Snape didn't seem surprised by his acquiescence, in fact, he moved almost as though he had been waiting for it. Before Draco could even register the wand being drawn he felt the intrusion into his mind.
Of course, Snape had not wanted to give him time to prepare.

Gathering himself Draco slowly began to let down the foremost of his mental barriers, allowing Snape into his mind. He saw, as though he were back watching Hermione's muggle television, his memories playing out in his mind.

He was sitting at Malfoy Manor, accepting the task from the Dark Lord, he had felt so proud.
He was having the Dark Mark burned on his arm, his flesh searing under the Dark Lord's wand, a feeling of finality, the burn spreading through his entire body, wishing his father was there.
Saying goodbye to his mother as he left for school, excited, and brushing off the odd look in her eyes.
The adoration of his classmates as he hinted at his task.

Things started going faster now, more frantic, almost as though matching the deteriorating mental state Draco had experienced as time passed.

A letter from his mother that seemed - off.
His excitement at coming up with a plan smothered in his frustration at the cabinets.
Hours spent in the room of lost things.
His mother refusing to come see him.
Her handwriting – shaky.
His suspicion at the cause of her behavior confirmed in a callous letter sent from Mulciber, of all people.
Renewed determination and renewed doubt.
Avoiding his classmates.
Hermione calling him a death eater.
Hermione asking if he was okay.

Things slowed down again as the memory of her research played before him. He could see the excitement shining through her eyes, even before she had trusted him, she was thrilled with the work.

Working on the potion together, sitting in a comfortable easy silence.
The first time they brewed the potion, how easily the had worked together, like they just fit. He could see her smiling at him, see the determination in her eyes, and in her solid stance before testing the potion on herself.
His stomach dropped just as it had experiencing it the first time when she fell to the floor unable to move.
He didn't think he would ever get the image of the terror, clear in her face, from his mind, but seeing it brought before him like this made his gut twist.
Then Hermione was in his arms, crying, falling asleep, and…

No. Draco had almost gotten lost in his own thoughts; almost let them play out, just so he could see them again. But that would mean Snape would see them.

No.

He could feel Snape's magic press against the barrier he had just erected, but Snape eventually moved on. And Draco wearily allowed the memories to continue to flash past, carefully pushing forward the most helpful, least personal ones. Although not entirely in control, Snape allowed Draco's directions with only an occasional detour.

They saw the completed potion, the first successful test, a screen of the muggle computer containing images of incomprehensible destruction, a squeaky rubber seat in a muggle diner, an alley way...

Then Draco finally managed to redirect Snape to knockturn alley, brewing a potion, the final test, feeling the intoxication of the Crucio, Hermione's face, her lips pressing against his, emotion exploding around them, and Draco threw up another barrier.

Then his manor,
his mother drinking tea,
her hand shaking,
his own torture,

Hermione's face appeared again, but before Draco could put up a barrier Snape moved on his own.

The letter telling his mother about the potion,
followed by an image of his own hand,
feeling the ring on his finger activate,
finding out his mother had used all of the potion so soon,
the fear,
panic,
anger,
Hermione's hand on his face, concern in her eyes.
Meeting with Dumbledore,
the small spark of hope he had felt.

And then it stopped. Draco's hands shook. He did not know if it was from Snape's extended stay in his mind or from the jumble of emotions he had re-experienced so close together, so frantically.
After a couple of calming breathes he looked back across at Snape. Daring him to continue to question him, daring him to make a remark about Hermione. He had not wanted him to see her at all, but now that he had, Draco would not pretend, would not make excuses.

"The potion - I saw the papers in the memory, but their contents, I can't seem to recall."

"The paper was spelled to be immediately forgotten when not in its presence. Hermione."

"Ahh… yes, prudent."

"The images on the computer?"

"Fall-out from a muggle atomic bomb."

"That is what I thought, yes…"

It was rather uncomfortable, sitting here with someone that had just been inside his mind. He knew Snape had experienced the chaos of emotion that Draco had, had experienced the memories almost as if he were Draco himself. It was like sitting around while someone read your diary - only worse. Not that Draco had a diary, but he could imagine.

"You cast the Crucio on the Granger girl?" The memory hadn't shown who the spell was directed at, but Draco knew that Snape already had the answer to that, and so he said nothing. Snape tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement.
How long they sat across from each other, simply staring, each apparently lost in their own thoughts, Draco did not know. But, when Snape finally did speak Draco started at the sudden noise.

"I believe you know the correct spell, you may proceed."

Draco was not nearly so quick to act as Snape had been. He didn't know what he was about to experience but, he couldn't imagine it would be pleasant. Sitting straighter, Draco cast the spell that would allow him to push into Snape's mind.

He had been correct. This was not pleasant. The first thing Draco noticed was panic. Pure, animal, unthinkable panic. He heard a voice - Snape's, but he couldn't see anything.

"Don't kill me, please."

"I'm not going to kill you Severus." Draco recognized Dumbledore's voice, but he still couldn't see anything, only feel, and hear, and it was all scattered.

"He thinks it means her!'

"You must save her!"

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?' Dumbledore's voice again

"In – in return? Anything..."

And then suddenly Draco couldn't help put cry out from the pain. His heart in a thousand pieces. Like nothing he had ever felt before. And he knew, he knew, she was dead. He had killed her. He had said he would try not to, but he had killed her, and oh god. She was dead, and every second that he continued breathing the pain seemed to grow.

It was a minute before Draco's mind cleared enough that he remembered where he was, who he was, and what he was doing. S
o much pain, Snape had felt so much pain. But, who? And he pushed slightly deeper, his curiosity acting before he thought about it. He glanced shining red hair, heard a tinkling laugh, felt the pressure of his hand holding another's, soft and small, but in a sure firm grip. A glowing doe, made of light, standing next to him shining. And then it was gone. And he sat in Snape's dim, meticulous sitting room, free of personal effects, free of feelings, free of warmth.

Draco's chest ached, physically ached. And he was shaking again. Or maybe he had never stopped. And, oh god. He would do anything to see his mother, make sure she was safe. His Slytherins. Hermione. Merlin. His heart ached in a way he hadn't known was possible. He wanted, no, he needed to see Hermione. He didn't know why. But he knew this was one impulse he would not make himself ignore.

Not for too long at least.

He looked up at Snape but the professor refused to meet his eyes, staring instead down at the recently filled drink in his hand.

"The Dark Lord. He killed her." It wasn't really a question, but Draco could still feel the remnants of Snape's emotions, the anger, and he couldn't help himself. "I can't believe he killed her." Draco didn't even know who she was. But that didn't really matter.

"Yes." Draco could hear the bitterness in Snape's voice, and was surprised he had actually answered.

There was a few seconds of silence then Snape spoke again, but he was effectively back to his sharp emotionless tone "Well, if we are done here…" and he gestured to the door.

Draco quickly stood, glancing around the room once more before turning to leave. He considered saying something, felt like he should really, but nothing came to mind, and he opened the door to leave.

"She was a mudblood. Like Granger." Snape's voice was soft, almost as though he was speaking to himself, and Draco didn't think he was expecting a response, didn't think he would want one, and shut the door softly behind him.

Draco's emotions were a wreck, he wasn't entirely sure what the exact cause was. But, the combination of the last few days, no sleep, having his mind invaded, feeling Snape's mind, and the two tumblers of scotch he had just consumed on an otherwise empty stomach were all probably playing their own role.

He pulled out his wand and activated the ring on his hand, sending the 'meet immediately' pattern, and hurried to the potions room before he could think too much.

He had to wait just long enough to start doubting his actions, but he had no way to take it back, so he stayed. Of course she wouldn't come, it was the middle of the night now, she was surely still angry. She shouldn't come. He had pushed her away for a reason. This was a bad idea. A bad, scotch induced idea. But just as he decided he would leave now, before she came (if she came), the door to the potions room opened slowly, then closed, and, after a whispered spell to remove her dissolutionment charm, Hermione was standing before him.