Tw: hinted non-con towards a minor, threat of rape
[Monday 30th June]
Dripping water echos around the tunnel that runs under Hogwarts from the antiques shop and the sound of the distant footsteps of a small parade of Death Eaters does nothing to calm Draco's nerves. Cold sweat loosens the grip on the wand he's been clenching tight enough for the last few hours to give him cramp. For weeks, he's been avoiding thinking about the inevitable day that hung over him like wet fog. The day he kills Dumbledore.
"It's going to be fine," he mutters under his breath, over and over as he nears Hogwarts as if the mantra were capable of getting him out of this mess. Locate Dumbledore, disarm him, kill him. Three simple steps. He's never liked Dumbledore, but he's never considered casting him into an early grave. Even so, he won't be talked out of this; he and his family's life are on the line, and his fear of executing one spell is not going to jeopardise that.
"Are you talking to yourself?" asks Slughorn, two paces behind him. Draco sighs, continuing down the passage. Now there's someone he wouldn't mind casting into an early grave.
"No," he says.
"Slow down," says Slughorn. He pulls down his large hood. "Look, I've got eyes on Dumbledore." Draco stops abruptly to look over the Marauder's map that Slughorn holds out. Under the dim lighting of the torches chained sporadically on the roof of the tunnel, he can just made out a pair of footsteps. Dumbledore's name appears in a dark red sprawl in the top right corner.
"The Astronomy tower?" says Draco. "Why would he be up there at midnight?"
Slughorn folds the map back up. "Now is our chance," he says with a sinister grin.
Draco tries to take a reassuring breath, wishing his nerves away, when he feels a hand lightly rest on his waist. He jumps back, a flash of rage overcoming him.
"I'm trying to work up the courage to kill my fucking headteacher can you get your bloody hands off me for five fucking minutes or I swear to God," Draco spits furiously. "Now isn't the fucking time."
Slughorn holds his hands up. "Woah there, Draco. I didn't touch you. I think the nerves might be getting to your head."
Draco throws him one last look, then turns back and strides down the corridor towards the Astronomy tower and towards Dumbledore.
Dumbledore stands at the top of the Astronomy tower. He hears footsteps and Draco appears from the corridor leading to the stairs.
"Good evening, Draco," Dumbledore says calmly, facing out onto the view of the dark countryside and distant mountains.
Draco holds his wand up, gripping it harder than ever before. "Expelliarmus," he says firmly.
Dumbledore's wand shoots from his hand and clatters onto the floor.
"Draco," he says, slowly raising his hands. "You're better than this."
Draco's wand trembles as he points it at him. All he has to do is say the spell. Mercy from Voldemort, glory to the family name, freedom from Slughorn.
"You don't know what I'm like," Draco says, his voice coming out as a defensive whisper rather than an assured statement. He can feel Slughorn's eyes watching him from the shadows. "You don't know what I'm capable of," he says louder. "You know nothing about me."
Maybe he can talk it into existence. Dumbledore doesn't seem in the least bit phased by this, however.
"I've known you since you were eleven years old," says Dumbledore calmly, apparently ignoring the wand pointed to his face. "I remember the boy who walked into this school on the first day, bright eyes, full of hope for his future. You wanted to make friends, you were excited to be put in Slytherin, and most of all, you wanted to be a good wizard."
"Stop talking," Draco says, his voice barely above a whisper. He imagines the crowd of Death Eaters currently on their way to the tower, expecting to see Dumbledore dead.
"You are a good wizard, Draco," Dumbledore continues. "You can still redeem yourself."
"You don't know anything about me," Draco shouts. He lowers his wand and vehemently pulls up his right sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark. "See?" he yells. "You know nothing about me. I'm not a good wizard, I can never be a good wizard. I'm a Death Eater and that's my birth right. I was born to serve Lord Voldemort."
Seeing the Dark Mark catches Dumbledore off guard for a second, before he regains his composure again.
"I can help you, Draco."
"No, you can't," Draco says, terrified emotion gathering in the back of his throat. "You don't get it, do you? We've been preparing this for months and months. Everything leads up to this. I have to do this, I have to kill you. Or the Dark Lord will kill me."
The sound of footsteps patter along the corridor before Dumbledore has chance to continue delaying Draco enough to talk him out of it. Bellatrix and Slughorn stride through the doorway and into the open section along with a dozen other Death Eaters.
"What do we have here?" Bellatrix crows in delight at the scene, Dumbledore unarmed at the mercy of Draco.
He feels a hand on his shoulder. "Well done, Draco," Slughorn whispers into his ear.
Snape enters at the back of the group, taking an different way through the lower Astronomy room. Thanks to Draco and Draco only, he's been aware of the plan to assassinate Dumbledore for a month now, but only through a miscommunication did he gather that they were planning it for tonight. It was so last minute that he didn't even get a chance to talk to Draco about it.
Snape catches sight of Harry hidden under the floor panels in the storey underneath and stealthily approaches him. He's watching the scene play out and tries to point his wand at Draco through the floorboards, presumably to disarm him, but he can't get good enough of an angle.
Harry gets a fright seeing Snape creep towards him. Snape holds a finger to his mouth to keep him quiet and looks up at the crowd at the top of the Astronomy tower. Draco stands with his wand pointed at Dumbledore. There's no way in hell he will do it, Snape can tell that immediately. It's in his stance, the way his trembling hand holds the wand, how his shoulders are hunched like he wants to curl up and disappear. There's no chance that Draco will look Dumbledore in the eyes and kill him.
"Move aside," Snape says, walking forward from behind Draco.
Draco releases an audible sigh of relief as Snape walks forward, his wand pointed at Dumbledore, taking his place.
"Severus-" says Dumbledore, his fairly relaxed stance crumbling as Snape holds out his arm rigidly. "Please."
Snape looks him in the eyes and utters the words: "Avada-kedavra." He sees the pain sear through Dumbledore's eyes as the impact of the spell boosts him back.
Dumbledore falls back, off the ledge, and down onto the gravel of the courtyard. A triumphant cheer goes around the crowd of Death Eaters. Harry watches in silent horror while overwhelming relief floods Draco.
Dumbledore is dead.
[The next day]
Snape could think up a multitude of reasons as to why today seems to have dragged on for longer than any other day in his miserable life. Harry wasted no time spreading the news around Hogwarts that it was Snape rather than Draco who killed him, and as a result he was immediately shunned by all the students and professors. Not even Remus has come to talk to him.
Snape holes himself in his classroom for the rest of the day after a furious confrontation with McGonagall at breakfast time. He stays there, in peaceful solitude, trapped in the eye of the storm.
He doesn't have a plan to somehow wriggle his way out of this, prepared to wait things out. Death Eaters had planned to move Draco and Slughorn out of Hogwarts either today or tomorrow, and his only sliver of hope is bringing up an excuse and being allowed to tag along. This seems unlikely, as Slughorn would be leading the venture and Snape doubts Slughorn would let him obstruct him from whatever sham he's caught up in nowadays.
So he sits alone in his classroom, ignores the angry bangings on the door, and pretends not to notice that he's no longer bothered by being left all alone.
On the way back from tea, Draco stops outside Snape's classroom and knocks impatiently on his door. Snape doesn't speak or move from his desk, assuming it's another person come to hound him about Dumbledore.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione pass Draco in the corridor. "Gone to update your boyfriend on how the school's falling to bits?" says Harry, noticing him stopped outside Snape's classroom.
"Fuck off, Potter," Draco spits.
"Dumbledore's dead because of him."
"I don't give a shit about Dumbledore. I would've killed him myself."
"But what? You were too scared? 'I have to kill you or the Dark Lord will kill me'," Harry quotes mockingly.
Draco clenches his jaw.
Snape overhears Draco's distinctive snarl from outside his room. He gets to the door just as the conversation appears to be getting heated.
"Come in, Malfoy."
Harry turns his attention to Snape, the man who killed Dumbledore in front of him, the man he thought was protecting him, the man he thought was on his side.
"I trusted you," Harry says, looking him in the eye.
"Save your tears for someone who cares," Draco interrupts, giving him the finger as he glares back furiously.
"Enough," says Snape. "Potter, on your way."
Harry glowers at them both until Ron gives him a nudge.
"Come on," they say, eyes momentarily brushing over Draco. "It's not worth it." He, Harry, and Hermione walk away, and Draco enters Snape's classroom.
"What can I do for you, Draco?" says Snape returning to behind his desk. The weight from killing Dumbledore shows on his rugged face.
"You know how the Death Eaters are about to move me out tomorrow?" Draco says.
"Yes," says Snape.
"Do you want to come? They're taking me to Malfoy Manor and I could tell them that you're coming too, because they said Professor Slughorn has to come since he's my aide."
Snape doesn't say anything, making Draco feel the need to clarify.
"You probably want to get out of Hogwarts for a few days with how everyone's been, not to make assumptions, but, uh, you might like some peace. Not that you can't handle it or anything." Draco stumbles over his words, Snape's silence unsettling him. "I'm sorry that you're having to take the blame when it should've been me that killed him. I should be dealing with all this shit, uh, stuff, right now."
Snape considers this.
"Dumbledore needed to die," he says emotionlessly. "It doesn't matter who did it. It happened that I was there at the right time. The Dark Lord has no mercy. We both know what would've happened to you if Dumbledore wasn't killed."
Draco nods, grateful. "I just think it's unfair, the stick you're getting here just because I couldn't bring myself to do one simple thing."
"So you're offering to take me to Malfoy Manor to make up to me?" Snape states rather than asks.
Draco looks at him tensely, wondering if he's somehow offended him.
"I'd appreciate it," Snape says, noticing Draco's lost expression. "I could do with getting away from Hogwarts for a bit."
Draco nods slowly. "So you'll come?" His tone sounds marginally pleading, like there's an ulterior motive to him coming, which worries Snape.
"Yes, I'll come, if that can be arranged."
"Great," says Draco. "I guess I'll see you then. It'll probably be tomorrow morning."
"Alright," says Snape. "Take care."
"You too."
"Professor Snape?" Draco says as he gets to the door. A thought hits him, and he wouldn't usually offer anything to his sullen professor, but today is different. Snape has quite possibly saved his life, or at least saved him from the haunting memories attached with murdering his headteacher.
"Yes?" says Snape wearily, letting his guard slip for a second, thinking Draco would be gone by now.
"Have you had anything to eat today?"
Draco's cheeks colour slightly, the question sounding like something a mother would ask her child rather than a student ask their professor. Snape seems taken aback, something which Draco didn't imagine a question so mundane could achieve.
"Sorry," he says quickly. "I didn't mean to sound condescending or anything, it's just because you weren't there at dinner or lunch and, um, yeah. I don't want you to rot away in here. Not that it's a bad room to rot away in-" Draco stops talking, resisting the urge to face-palm.
"Nevermind, I'll just go," he says. "See you tomorrow." He speeds out of the room before Snape has the chance to comment.
[The next day]
At lunchtime, Draco, Slughorn, and, to Slughorn's irritation, Snape, wait at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, sitting on a grassy mound beside a clearing.
"Don't you have something better to be doing?" Slughorn says coldly after minutes of silence, the sentence targeted to Snape as they all face onto the clearing.
"Such as what?" Snape snaps with no desire to hide his hostility.
"Teaching?" says Slughorn, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
"I could say the same for you."
"I'm his aide," says Slughorn, pointing at Draco who's sitting awkwardly between them both. "I'm of importance to this operation."
"I don't care if you're Queen bloody Elizabeth," says Snape. "I killed Albus so I of all people should get to come to this ridiculous celebration or whatever the Dark Lord has prepared."
"You don't even know what's happening at the manor," Slughorn sneers. "Surely that says something."
"All it says is that someone has been depriving me of information in the hopes I piss off and die somewhere."
"Gosh, you do let your tongue run, don't you, Severus?" Slughorn says. "There are children present."
"Oh, so he's a child now?" says Snape. "How fucking convenient."
Draco bites his lip in an attempt not to let his shock show, more at Snape's language than the layered statement.
"I do apologise, Draco," Snape says airly, his sharp tone still aimed at Slughorn. "Professor Slughorn somehow manages to bring it all out of me."
"Do try and restrain yourself," Slughorn remarks, otherwise lost for witty comments.
"That's bloody rich," Snape says, no humour present in either of their voices.
The situation seems almost laughable to Draco. He's never seen Snape like this before, never seen anything make him lose composure so easily as Slughorn, his cheeks red and lips tightly pursed. Slughorn, however, is his standard sardonic self, although Draco can't help but notice that he too is more irritable than usual.
Snape pulls out a sandwich wrapped in cling film from the pocket of his black trench coat. "Do you want something to eat?" he says quietly to Draco, holding out the sandwich.
Draco glances up. "Um, yeah, yes please," he says.
Snape puts the sandwich down to his left so Draco has to sit at the end away from Slughorn, which he gratefully does so.
"Are you his mother now?" Slughorn says scornfully, clenching his jaw at Draco distancing himself from him.
"He needs to eat, Horace," says Snape with an icy glare.
Draco bites into the sandwich, making a point of avoiding eye contact with both of them. Slughorn stands to sit back down next to Draco.
"Don't you dare," says Snape sharply.
"He's safer sitting between us," Slughorn says. He stops walking as Snape whips his wand out of his pocket.
"He's not sitting next to you," Snape says in a low voice, pointing his wand to Slughorn's face with silent fury. He wouldn't mind an excuse to cast an unforgivable curse on him. Draco stops chewing and can hear the heartbeat in his ears as he watches the scene play out.
Slughorn pulls his wand from his waistband slowly, almost tauntingly, and points it right back at Snape.
"You wouldn't do anything to me," Slughorn says.
"I know exactly what I'll be doing to you if you take another step towards him."
Slughorn considers this for a long moment. "You want me to sit by you, don't you, Draco?" he eventually says, holding his ground.
A spike of fear pricks Draco as Slughorn stares at him. "Yes," he says without a second of hesitation. He could try and justify the action by saying he's doing it to help Snape, but he knows the iron grip of fear Slughorn has on him is the true driving power.
"Don't talk to him," Snape says, just as furiously, perhaps more at the way Draco instantly agreed. It scares him how easily Slughorn has him bent to his will. "Just sit down."
"All right," Slughorn smiles, convinced he's won again. He slips his wand back and shrugs as if Snape is being ridiculously aggressive.
Snape sits back down, even closer to Draco this time, and the three continue waiting in silence.
The sky is darkening by the time they arrive at Malfoy Manor, pink rays stretching off to the horizon line. Draco stares at the familiar rusty gates to his parents' house with a bitter taste in his mouth. This place holds no good memories, especially with Slughorn striding beside him.
Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stand at the front door to greet the small party. A sharp wind whistles across the gravel path as they walk towards them. Draco steps a stride behind Snape, watching him anxiously smooth down his robe for the fourth time.
"Hello, everyone." Narcissa gives a strained smile. "Come through to the hall."
"Draco," Lucius says, pulling his son into a hug. "Well done, son." Draco allows his father to hug him. They both know it's all for show. Neither pride nor happiness fills Lucius' features: simply relief. Relief for himself and that his son's apparent victory has bought him more time to appease Voldemort. Draco recognises that he is irrelevant to his father, and he feels nothing.
The small party is shown through to the main dining hall at the heart of the manor. There's twice as many staff as usual and the place has been spruced up from its ordinary drab self.
Draco's stomach twists as he sees Voldemort sitting at the head of the table, veir arms resting commandingly on top, surveying the silent hall. Aside from his parents, Draco recognises a handful of the other Death Eaters sitting solemnly around the table, including Bellatrix, Snape, and Slughorn. The celebratory atmosphere he expected is nowhere to be seen. Everyone sits stiffly in their uncomfortably decorative gowns and suits, too fearful to make conversation.
Across the table, Snape ignores the glare from Slughorn after Draco sandwiched himself between his aunt, Bellatrix, and Snape, consequently as far as possible away from him.
"Raise a toast, everyone," ve croaks once Draco and Lucius are sitting and filling up the final seats in the hall. The echo of a pin could be heard to reverberate around the room as Voldemort picks up veir golden goblet.
"To the death of Albus Dumbledore, and to the dawn of a new age."
They all watch vem swig veir drink and grin that horrifyingly evil grin. "The war is almost won."
Late into the evening, Draco sits in one of the small living rooms with Snape and Slughorn in the distanced armchairs. The three of them have been stuck in a stalemate for the last hour and a half. Draco doesn't dare retreat to bed as the moment he separates from Snape he's afraid Slughorn will track him down alone. Slughorn waits for Draco to make a move, keen to talk to him without Snape's company. And Snape doesn't move; Draco has been stuck to his hip for the last day, of his own accord, and the reason why is evident.
"Don't you want to go and get some sleep, Draco?" says Slughorn. "You look tired."
Draco, eyelids barely open, glares at Slughorn. "You're shameless," he murmurs, too exhausted to consider the consequences.
Slughorn looks at him challengingly, but nothing more is said. Snape, engrossed in his book, doesn't pick up on the comment.
Draco falls fully asleep after a few more minutes of silence.
"If you want to head off, I can keep an eye on him," says Slughorn.
Snape gives him a look that could kill. "Do you take me for a fool, Horace?"
"I think you're forgetting your place," smiles Slughorn sweetly. "I'm his aide. You're irrelevant."
Snape keeps his unaffected stony expression. "You keep mentioning that you're his 'aide', or rather that you forced yourself into that position in the first place," he says. "And I think that you are the one forgetting something. I haven't and I will never forget what you did to him last time we were here. If you think I'm letting you anywhere near that boy alone, especially in the state he's in, you'd be a damned idiot."
Slughorn's smile broadens as he stands up.
"You can't protect him forever, Severus," he says as he walks out.
There's a searing pain in his neck when Draco wakes up, reminding him instantly of the previous day. His body feels stiff, still in the shirt, blazer and tie and still slumped in the chair. He opens his eyes. Snape is sitting in the same place as before, studying a book.
Slughorn is gone.
"Good morning," says Snape, noticing Draco start to move.
"What time is it?" says Draco, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He doesn't remember falling asleep.
"About midday."
Draco's eyes widen.
"You haven't missed anything," says Snape, putting down his book. "The Dark Lord said you should be resting. You've got a meeting soon with vem, your father, and Professor Slughorn."
Draco tries to gauge the nature of the meeting by Snape's tone, but he gives away nothing.
"Where is he?" he says quietly.
Snape doesn't have to ask who he's referring to. "He left as soon as you fell asleep."
Draco wipes the morning grease off his face with his jacket sleeve.
"What's this meeting about?" he asks.
"I'd be lucky if anyone around here tells me anything," says Snape, curling his lip. "Horace- Professor Slughorn- seems to think he's above everyone else just because of this arbitrary position he's forced himself into. Someone needs to-"
The door opens suddenly.
"Master Draco, Master Snape," a servant stands in the doorway, bowing their head. "I apologise for interrupting. The Dark Lord has asked me to escort you to veir company, Master Draco."
Draco looks at Snape, and he nervously rubs the side of his cheek. "Good luck," he says. "I'll be in my room after, just come in."
"Okay, thank you."
As Draco follows the servant along the corridors, he remembers he slept in his clothes and probably looks and smells awful.
"Is there time for me to get changed?" Draco asks the servant.
"Please sir," they say. "The Dark Lord instructed me to bring you there directly. You mustn't be late."
Draco sighs but continues walking with them. "Fine."
He's shown to a done-up room on the third floor where his father, Slughorn, and Voldemort sit around a table in silence. As Draco enters the room, his father and Slughorn visibly relax.
"Have we tired you out, Draco?" Voldemort says, leering slightly.
"I apologise, my Lord," says Draco, bowing his head. "It was a long journey."
"No matter," ve says, gesturing for him to sit down. "Now Draco has executed the first stage of my plan, it's time to move on to the next stage: control of Hogwarts. Once we gain control of Hogwarts, we can infiltrate the Ministry of Magic, kill Harry Potter and regain our rightful control of the Wizarding World."
Draco doesn't have a chance to zone out at any point during the meeting, left with the two people that terrify him the most in the world. He channels all his energy into agreeing with everything the other three are saying. As Voldemort talks, the gravity of veir plan weighs down on Draco and the harsh reality hits him: Voldemort won't stop until all 'mud-bloods' are dead and ve has conquered the entire wizarding world.
Eventually, the meeting ends. Lucius, Slughorn, and Draco exit the room and have a chance to breathe in the hallway.
Slughorn claps his hands together, something resembling a smile on his face. "Exciting stuff," he says.
Lucius just nods wearily.
"I've got to go," says Draco. He doesn't want to be hanging around here for a second longer than necessary.
"Are you alright, son?" Lucius says in a weak voice.
"Yes, dad, I'm fine."
"It's all a bit..." he waves a hand around, but the expression of fearful exhaustion are words enough. Draco nods. At least Voldemort's effect seems to be wearing off on someone else.
"Draco and I were just going to the main lounge," Slughorn says. Draco glowers at him but he knows he can't get away with refusing; his father isn't Snape.
"Right," Lucius nods. "I'll see you both later." He pats a hand on Draco's shoulder, then turns and walks away.
Draco immediately starts striding off in the direction of Snape's room, but it's only a second before Slughorn has caught him up.
"Are you in a rush, Draco?" he says, that same pleasant smile on his face. Draco has no choice but to stop, his anxiety turning to dread.
"Yes."
"Where are you off to?" asks Slughorn, walking alongside him in the isolated corridor.
"Professor Snape's room," Draco replies flatly.
Slughorn's face twists from pleasant to irritated. "You think you're clever inviting him along?" he sneers. "He can't protect you."
"He's doing a pretty good job so far," says Draco, regretting it the second it leaves his mouth.
Slughorn slaps him around the face without hesitation.
"Where is he now then? You think I won't fuck you like I did last time," he hisses, making Draco flinch as he cradles his cheek.
"Nothing, absolutely nothing, is stopping me from taking you up to my bedroom and raping the hell out of you right now. Do you think I wouldn't do it because Voldemort is here? Or because it's your house? Why, Draco? Give me one fucking reason why I wouldn't do it."
Draco stares down, the fight drained from him.
"Answer me," Slughorn yells.
"I don't know," mumbles Draco. "There is no reason."
"Exactly," says Slughorn, with wide, insane eyes.
"Nothing is stopping me."
He turns away for a moment, giving Draco the chance to start trembling properly. When he turns back, he's wearing a smile.
"I'm going for lunch with your aunt now," he says. "Lovely lady, I must say. Here's a tip for you: stop licking the inside of Snape's rectum, keep away from him and I might let you off."
To the outrage of Slughorn, Draco hesitates before giving a reply.
"You think you're untouchable, don't you?" he scoffs. "Do you want to know how good it felt to rape you? I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
Draco blinks in shock at the statement. Then he realises what Slughorn wanted him to say.
"I'll stay away from Professor Snape," he says in a strained voice.
"Excellent. You can sleep in your own room tonight, too."
"I'll barricade the door," he mutters.
"You do that," says Slughorn. His face lights up again. "I don't want to be late for lunch but I suppose I could spare a minute, just for you. There's this room round the corner from here with the most beautiful view. Come on, I'll show you it."
"But-" Draco says, his face contorting into desperate pleading as he assumes the worst. "I said I'd keep away from Professor Snape."
Slughorn dismisses him with an eye roll. "I'm not going to do anything to you, Draco," he says. "I trust you're a man of your word. Now hurry up or you'll make me late."
Draco reluctantly lets Slughorn drag him into one of the front rooms of the manor, his heart sinking to his chest.
Dumbledore is dead and nothing has changed.
Draco passes Snape's room on his way back to his bedroom. Shivering, he holds his arms around his body. Slughorn kept the window open, and a cold north wind blew into the room for the excruciating ten minutes he stayed there. Slughorn's hands were warm, but they make him feel even colder.
He stands outside Snape's door for a few seconds wishing he could go in and sit with Snape and relax and feel safe for once. Slughorn's threat, or promise, hangs over his head. He can't risk it.
He walks past the door and back to his bedroom.
Snape, having not heard from or seen Draco for the rest of the day, goes to find him in the evening. He was surprised he never came to his room after the meeting with Voldemort. Then again, he could've just forgotten.
Draco hears three knocks on his door as he watches the sunset from his window. A stabbing pain of anxiety hits his stomach. Is Slughorn here to follow through with his threat? He doesn't know if he can handle seeing Slughorn right now, let alone endure another second of his hands on him.
Draco audibly lets out a sigh of relief on seeing Snape instead of Slughorn at the door.
"It's just me," says Snape.
"Hello," says Draco, peering around the corridor. No one in sight. "Come in."
"I was just coming to check everything's alright," he says. Understandable, Draco thinks, considering last time they were here together Snape found him about to jump to his death.
"How did the meeting go?"
Draco shrugs. "It was alright."
"Any new plans?"
"No," says Draco. "It was just the usual, the Dark Lord preparing to take over the entire wizarding world, kill all muggle-borns etcetera."
Snape shakes his head. "I see."
"Well, I guess it wasn't the exact same as usual," Draco says after a moment. "They were finalising old plans for how they're going to take over Hogwarts or whatever. And it's kind of a good plan, like, it's well thought out. It could work."
"Could work?"
"I don't know," says Draco. "I'm not an expert but it seems, not to be dramatic, unstoppable, from Hogwart's perspective. I don't see how they can stop the Dark Lord from taking over unless someone manages to kill vem. When ve initiates the war, it's Hogwarts against the whole Dark Forces, and there are some skilled professors at Hogwarts but realistically they won't be enough. Even if they manage to win, like half of Hogwarts is gonna die resisting the attack. It all comes down to whether someone kills vem, really."
"Right," says Snape thoughtfully. "So, what's ve focused on doing now? Assuming that's the long-term plan."
"Well, that's kind of the short-term plan." Draco gives a nervous laugh. "The long-term plan is to take over the whole wizarding world. All this Hogwarts stuff they're planning is supposed to happen sometime within the next year."
"The next year?" Snape echos, his eyes widening. "Christ, that's sooner than I expected."
"I just want this all to be over," Draco sighs.
"Me too," says Snape, gazing off into the distance.
"Why don't you get out of here? You know, run away?" Draco says suddenly. "You don't have the Dark Mark, you've got money, you haven't got a wife or partner or kids or anything." He kicks himself inwardly. He seems to have a talent for losing all tact when talking to Snape. "Sorry," he mutters. "I didn't mean-"
"No, no, you're right," Snape says. "I've thought about it, and I wish it was easy as just moving."
"Why can't it be? I know I sound naïve and stupid, but I don't see why you can't just rent a place out and move."
Snape shrugs. "My life is at Hogwarts," he says. "I'm tied to my work with the Dark Lord. If I ever tried to leave ve'd probably track me down and kill me." After a defeated pause, he asks, "is that what you want to do? Run away?"
"I don't know," says Draco. "In theory, yes. I'd give my right arm and leg to be away from here and all of this. But I don't know. There are still some things worth staying for."
Snape can easily interpret the upturnings of his mouth. "It's Ron, isn't it? He's keeping you here."
Draco smiles, embarrassed. "Yeah. I mean, it sounds stupid, but I swear he's, like, the only good thing in my life right now. I don't know if I could give that up."
"You could always invite him along. Move to a small Muggle village in the north. Start a new life together."
Draco raises his eyebrows at the suggestion, at someone taking this seriously. "I wish," he says sadly. "They'd never come. They've got too much here: friends and family and other stuff."
"They?"
"Yeah," says Draco absently, lost in the fantasy of moving someplace far, far away with Ron. "They them but he is fine as long as you don't use it all the time. I don't really get it but, you know, if it makes them happy."
Snape rubs his forehead. It hurts to hear the blatant love pouring out from him, a love he has been deprived of ever experiencing fully.
Draco snaps out of it, trying to judge Snape's thoughts again but his expression is hard to decipher.
"I don't think I was supposed to tell you that actually," he says.
"It's okay, I won't mention it to anyone," says Snape. Then after seeing Draco's anxious expression says, "it doesn't bother me."
"Okay," Draco says with a thankful nod.
"I should probably get back," says Snape, edging towards the door. "Why didn't you come to my room after the meeting, by the way?"
"I couldn't," says Draco, recalling the cold wind wafting through the open window in that room Slughorn brought him into. I'm not going to do anything to you, Draco. What a pretty lie.
"Why not?"
"I'm not supposed to." As soon as Draco says it, he realises the vagueness only prompts more questions.
"Says who?" Snape furrows his brows. "If Horace has said anything to you-"
"No," says Draco quickly. "It's fine. It's nothing."
Snape purses his lips, wanting to press him further. He's sure that Slughorn is involved in some way, but Draco's exhausted look tells him to drop it.
"We're leaving tomorrow, by the way," he mentions. "Back to Hogwarts."
"When?"
"About midday, I think," says Snape, glancing around at the dingy and cluttered room. "Will you be all right in here?"
"Yes, thank you," says Draco. He salvaged a few chairs from a nearby room to use to block the door.
"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then," says Snape. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Draco echos emptily and Snape closes the door behind him.