Turns out Mr. Malfoy has quite a few friends at the Ministry, as no one got even a warning about the use of underage magic that night. There were some pretty upset parents, however.

Severus appeared quickly and shoved a robe at me before most of the parents made it into the house. He noticed the bruise beginning to appear on my shoulder and quietly asked if I was alright. I nodded, looking down as I shrugged on the robe. I hadn't realized how cold I was.

Blaise's mother waltzed in and didn't even offer a stern look to her son, but managed a distasteful look at everyone else. She was beautiful, even the scowl she had didn't mar her features. I recognized Pansy's mother, who looked genuinely upset. Both of Daphne's parents showed up, along with her little sister who seemed ecstatic to be present during this ordeal. Crabbe and Goyle were both summoned outside by their parents, so I didn't get a good look at them.

At first, no one wanted to explain what had happened. This lead parents to begin throwing snide accusations at everyone other than their own child. Eventually, they were able to pull out a highly edited version of what had happened. Unsurprisingly, Blaise's mother seemed far more concerned with Draco's involvement than her son's.

At the end of it all, I was exhausted and I just wanted to go home. Then I remembered I didn't have one anymore.

Once everyone had cleared out only Draco, Severus, Lucius and I remained. I sat at the counter across the room. Draco was still sobering up, and refused to meet my gaze while Severus and Lucius spoke in low tones. I had the distinct impression that they were both afraid to tell Narcissa about this.

Though our fathers were speaking quietly, I caught much of their conversation.

"Is the Ministry planning on sending out warning letters? Have any of these children already received a first offense?" Severus asked.

Lucius chuckled. "You know most of these parents are almost as connected as I am in the Ministry, I doubt any of these kids have ever gotten any kind of warning. Not that it matters tonight anyway." Lucius leaned in closer. "My contact tells me that they sent Potter an expulsion letter for another underage magic offense."

Severus's mouth curled up into an awful sneer. "Oh how I'd love for that little show off to never disgrace my classroom again. Unfortunately we all know the old fool would never allow it."

Lucius shrugged. "Dumbledore apparently showed up at the Ministry bellowing about some life threatening situation. He managed to get a hearing, but I know who will be sitting in on that and none of them have any sympathy for the boy. Nevertheless, at least his troublemaking came at a convenient time."

Severus nodded. "Yes. Now, moving forward I will be making other arrangements for my daughter. I will admit that I can't tell who is the bad influence, but I'm not blind to the fact that at least one of them is. I believe we gave them far too much freedom."

"Yes," Lucius agreed. "I think I will go home and try to smooth things over. Unfortunately, we weren't planning on our son's return…"

"I will keep these two out of trouble for a few days until I can get her settled," Severus offered.

Lucius nodded and gave his son a disappointed look before exiting. Draco didn't see it. He seemed to be focusing very hard on not vomiting. Severus seemed to notice this too, and quickly rushed over to him to usher him into the bathroom.

When he emerged he had an exasperated expression and I was suddenly struck with a thought. At this moment my father is dealing with my drunk boyfriend, but a relationship preceded my arrival. Severus was a teacher, a Head of House to Draco. I couldn't imagine my father had previously handled any other student in this state. It eventually dawned on me that he was here for me. The sting of our last fight suddenly returned to me with a feeling of guilt.

I couldn't meet his gaze when he approached me. "Thank you," I said quietly staring straight down at the floor. "For showing up."

Me and my dad shared a moment that night.

It didn't last. After Draco had completely evacuated his stomach, Severus sent us to separate rooms to get some sleep. I was exhausted, and happy to finally strip out of my bathing suit. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I woke up early, habitually reaching my hands across the mattress, searching for him. I rolled over and felt a pain on my shoulder and last night's events returned to me.

I stood up slowly and walked to the mirror to examine myself. I had deep circles under my eyes, and my shoulder had developed purple tones. My stomach dropped when I realized you could see a distinct hand shape in the bruise. I quickly threw on a tee shirt, shoving the thought out of my mind.

I wandered out of the room, and saw my father sleeping soundly on a wooden chair he had dragged into the hallway. I wasn't sure if he was there to make sure Draco didn't choke on his own vomit or to keep me from switching rooms. I stood there for a moment, until he started awake. We exchanged a look for a moment before I finally said, "I'll make some coffee."

Draco woke up later in the morning, and we spent a very quiet day at the cabin. Severus, though he received many owls throughout the day, managed to clear his schedule enough that he could afford to spend every second of the day watching us, and he slept in his chair in the hallway every night. I wondered if Draco had as much trouble sleeping as I did. I wondered if he noticed the circles under my eyes growing darker, as I noticed his face grow more wary.

I desperately wanted to talk to him, to explain. He was so angry that night, and our days of silence had me questioning everything. Had his irritation festered? Was this enough to make him want to tell me to stay away from him? Did he blame me for what had happened with Blaise?

There wasn't anything I could say in front of Severus, mostly because he would be furious with me if he had any inkling that I disclosed anything to Draco. I knew so much, there was so much on the line, I could afford to have Severus feel like he couldn't trust me. My mother's last lesson to me was to never appear as a liability.

I only wished I could figure out what Draco's silence meant. Was it in response to mine? Was it embarrassment at my father's present? I spent three days driving myself crazy with those questions.

On the morning of the fourth day, Severus knocked on my door and told me to get dressed. Then he used his wand to quickly pack my things, before announcing, "You're going to be moved today. You'll want to grab a coat."

"When? Right now?" I asked, shocked at the abruptness.

"We will be leaving in a few minutes. Young Mr. Malfoy will be taking the Floo Network home where he will remain until the start of the school year," he responded.

I shoved past him out of the room. Draco was already dressed and standing near the fireplace.

"Did he tell you?" I demanded.

"Yeah, my father sent me a letter yesterday," Draco responded. "Where are you going?"

I almost sighed in relief when I finally heard his voice. For just a moment it felt like this nightmare was coming to a close. "I don't know, I don't think he will tell me. But I will write to you every single day, as much as you want. I know I owe you an explanation," I told him, grabbing his hand.

He glanced down and interlaced his fingers with mine. "I'm sorry," he said before glancing toward the room that Severus was still in and then lowering his voice. "I'm scared. I don't understand what's going on, and I don't know if knowing more is going to make it better or worse."

"Can't we just pretend you never saw anything?" I asked half heartedly.

"I can. But not with you. Not with this," he responded.

Severus emerged. "It's time," he said.

"I'll write back. Every day," Draco said. I ignored my father's presence and pulled Draco into a kiss, and I felt tears welling up. I couldn't figure out why but this seemed so permanent.

Draco gave me one last intense look before stepping into the chimney. "Malfoy Manor."

I turned to face Severus. He was hooking my trunk into a harness that was attached to his broom. He noticed my wary expression.

"I'm sorry, but there's no other way to get there. We will just be flying into town and then taking a train for most of the way. It won't be long," he told me gently. I recognized his tone, it was reserved, like he was editing his words.

I suddenly realized that while I had been so wrapped up in analyzing Draco's silence, I hadn't noticed Severus's. I glanced around the lodge, wondering if we were being listened to.

"Come along," he said in the same tone.

I followed him outside, still wary about riding on a broomstick. Back home, most of us learned to fly on thestrals or hippogriffs. Creatures you could form a connection with. Not to mention, this tiny piece of wood didn't look like it could support the weight of two people and a trunk. However, Snape held the broom horizontally and it floated in midair, unbothered by the weight of the trunk beneath it. He climbed on, and I tried to copy him without kicking him, but I was anything but graceful. He instructed me to hold onto him tightly, and then he kicked off hard from the ground. My breath caught as I glanced down and realized we were ascending at an impossible speed. When you fly with a magical creature, they don't just soar straight up, usually there is some bobbing as their wings gain momentum. I yearned for that familiar feeling as Severus leaned forward and we shot off, leaving my stomach far behind us.

Luckily, Severus had been truthful about the short trip, and we were quickly dipping down near the city of Perth. "It's going to be a long train ride," Severus told me. I finally got a hint as to where we were going when he purchased tickets to London.

"You're good with Muggle money," I commented once we boarded. The compartment wasn't very full, and the days of silence had me feeling confident.

Severus snorted. "I knew how to use Muggle Money before I ever laid eyes on a Galleon."

"Mom always said you were hopeless with it when you came to visit," I responded.

"Money in the States is different than here. She wasn't lying, I have no patience with their currencies - Muggle or Wizard. There's absolutely no reason I should have to exchange my galleons to pounds to dollars to Dragots and back again when I travel there," he grumbled. "You should get some sleep. You look tired."

"So do you. Can't imagine that chair was comfortable," I teased. "Even you have to admit that was a touch overdramatic."

"You two are nearly impossible to keep apart," he said with a hint of a smile.

"I can't figure out why it's so important to you to keep us separated."

"Well, apart from the drunken wizard duel, which I can chalk up to teenage antics," he said lightly before suddenly getting serious, "I find it concerning when my daughter has an unexplained bruise that she neglects to mention and is awful at hiding."

My face fell and I glanced down, noticing that two of the finger marks were peeking out from beneath my shirt collar. Pointlessly, I tugged at my collar to conceal them. Severus continued, "I am choosing not to ask you to elaborate because it would be incredibly inappropriate for a teacher to hex a student."

I sighed, suddenly feeling tired. "I think I'll take you up on that offer to catch up on some sleep," I yawned. I layed down on the seat across from him, drawing my knees up. The seat was strangely comfortable. Draco's absence seemed less pronounced in the small space, and I quickly drifted off.

People were already getting off the train when Severus gently woke me. Outside, evening had crept over the sky, and Severus had a car waiting for us. I sleepily lounged in the backseat, not hearing where we were going, but it wasn't a long car ride. Strangely enough, the driver dropped us off at a residential street corner that I was unfamiliar with.

The neighborhood did not look inviting. The houses looked rather grimy, and many of the exteriors were in disrepair. Broken and patched windows, garbage piled up, peeling paint. I hoped that this was simply a stop and not the destination.

Severus beckoned me to follow him, and we stopped in front of one of those houses. I started to walk towards the door, but he stopped me. "Hold on," he said, digging for something in his cloak. Finally, he procured a bit of parchment with some unfamiliar handwriting on it. Before he handed it to me, he said in a low voice, "Suspiria this is one of those life and death secrets."

I gulped and nodded, then took the parchment. It was only one line of text, scribbled in unfamiliar handwriting:

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.