Tw: mention of self-harm, discussion of sexual abuse including mentions of violence, rape, being drugged, & homophobia

Snape has given Ron no explanation as to why he's taking them to his classroom while everyone else settles down for tea in the Great Hall. Judging by Snape's cool expression, they imagine they're in trouble and wracks their brains for anything wrong he's done in the last week during the walk up to the classroom.

Snape unlocks his classroom door and signals in an anxious Ron. Draco is sitting tensely on a chair awaiting Snape's return. The moment Draco and Ron lock eyes, their strained expressions give way to ecstatic surprise.

They freeze for a second, then run forward and embrace. Draco clutches the back of Ron's head, breathing into their familiar soft hair and Ron clings to him like it's their last moment together.

Snape watches the way they seamlessly connect- the way Draco holds Ron's head protectively, how Ron relaxes all their body weight on Draco. It was as if no one else existed.

"I've missed you," Ron says.

"I've missed you too," whispers Draco. "I'm so sorry we couldn't meet."

Ron buries their head into Draco's shoulder. "It's not your fault."

Those words mean so much to him, even if Ron doesn't know the weight behind them.

Snape walks around them to his desk, shifting his papers to attract their attention. "I'll be working in here," he says. "You're welcome to go into the archives room."

The pair don't dare look away from each other's eyes as Draco pulls Ron by their hand into the archives room.

Once out of immediate sight of Snape, Draco pulls Ron into an intense kiss, holding their face as Ron grasps his waist.

"How are you?" Draco asks, pushing the door shut with his foot.

"I'm alright now," says Ron. "I was starting to get scared you'd sacked the whole thing off."

Draco strokes their cheek fondly. "Of course not. I wish we could've met but it was impossible," he says. "You got my letter?"

"From a month ago?" says Ron.

Draco smiles awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Ron. There's been no other opportunity for us to meet and I didn't want to risk sending more letters."

Ron's face relaxes, satisfied with the amount of guilt emotion in his voice.

"So how the hell did you manage to get Professor Snape to agree to let us in here?" they ask .

"He suggested it himself," replies Draco.

Ron gives him a look. "He offered? Bloody hell, what is the world coming to?"

"I think he was bored of me moping around and wanted to cheer me up."

"Is that where you've been the last two days?" Ron asks. "In here?"

"Yeah."

"How come?"

Draco runs a hand through his hair. "I just, I don't know, needed a few days off and he agreed to let me stay in here. It's not been approved, officially. I think everyone thinks I'm in the San."

"Yeah, that's what I overheard some of your friends saying," says Ron. "Why do you need time off?"

Draco shrugs. "Just a break. I'll be back in a few days."

"Well, cheers to Professor Snape," says Ron. "Otherwise we'd be fucked."

"Cheers to him," Draco echos.

Ron brushes the dust off the carpet, and they sit down together at the foot of one of the bookshelves.

Draco brushes aside Ron's hair so he can look them in the eyes. "Your hair's so long now."

"I know," Ron grins. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I love it. It really suits you," he says, twirling it around in his fingers. "So tell me about what's happened since last time."

"Well, Harry and Hermione have been dragging me around but I'm not really supposed to say what we're doing," says Ron, eyes skimming over the ceiling-high bookcases.

"Is this the same thing that got you captured and almost killed in July?"

Ron doesn't look Draco in the eye.

"Ron," he sighs. "You're gonna get yourself hurt and I won't be there to help you next time."

"We're being as safe as possible," says Ron. "And sacrifices have to be made somewhere. We're trying to bring Voldemort down, it's not going to be all sunshine and rainbows."

"You don't have to put yourself in danger because of Potter's battles."

"It's my battle too," Ron says. "And he's my friend, believe it or not. My best mate. I'm not gonna abandon him to do this by himself."

Draco rests his hand over theirs. "I know, I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I'll be fine," Ron gives a small smile. "Apart from that, I've not been up to much, really. I'm finally getting good marks in some of the tests. Might be able to do well in the June exams."

"That's good," says Draco.

"Yeah."

Ron hesitates before mentioning the next thing.

"I scrapped my blades," they say.

Draco looks at them in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Like two weeks ago."

Draco breaks into a genuine smile and wraps his arms around their shoulders. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

"I'm done for good." Ron blushes at the sudden affection.

"I'm so proud of you Ron," Draco says with feeling. "I knew you could do it."

Ron doesn't know what to say so grasps him tighter.

"I've not been up to much else," they say, resting their head on Draco's shoulder. "For what I can tell you. So, what about you? What's been going on in the last month?"

Draco's expression fades into a dull grimace. "Not much. I'm failing all my subjects and it's been shite, you know, with the room thing. I promise I'm trying to get it sorted ASAP. For now, we'll just have to meet in here."

"Will Professor Snape let us?"

"I'm sure I could talk him into it."

Ron pats his thigh, concerned by his sudden change in mood. They can tell 'it's been shite' doesn't begin to describe the month he's had.

"I'm glad we'll be able to start meeting again," they mutter. "I've had enough of Harry and Hermione necking on in front of me."

"Oh, God," Draco pulls a face. "Don't put that picture in my mind."

"Sorry," Ron laughs. "I'm sick of it too."

"I'm really not meant to talk about this," starts Draco. "But plans are being formed, you know? Everything's getting more serious."

Ron nods in agreement. "Yeah, for us too. Especially with Dumbledore gone."

"Look, this might sound stupid," says Draco, looking intensely into Ron's eyes. "But when we invade Hogwarts-"

"Invade Hogwarts?"

"Ron, just listen to me. When we invade, you are getting out of here and hiding somewhere safe until it's over. I don't give a shit what Potter or anyone else tells you, if things start getting out of hand or you see even one Death Eater around here, you're getting the fuck out of there, okay?"

"Draco-"

"No, I'm serious," says Draco. "You're not dying on me. Get the fuck out of here and get somewhere safe."

"What the hell?" frowns Ron. "You're scaring me, what's going on? What invasion?"

Draco sighs deeply. "I don't know yet. But we're planning something big and as soon as I know what you'll be the first to know. I'm sorry, I wish I could protect you."

"I don't need protecting. It's safe at Hogwarts."

"It's not," Draco says. "It's really not. If I send a letter saying there's trouble coming, please for the love of God, get somewhere safe and don't come out until it's over."

"Like where? Where's safe?"

"I don't know, your family's house, up in the dormitory, my bedroom, anywhere where they won't find you."

"What about you?" says Ron.

"What about me?"

"You're not safe either."

"I'm Voldemort's little golden boy at the moment, I think I'm pretty well protected."

"Okay," says Ron, biting his lip nervously.

There's a short knock at the door.

"Can I come in?" says Snape from the other side.

"Yeah," calls Draco. He gets up from the corner and hauls Ron up with him as Snape enters.

"I just need to file these," says Snape, carrying two thick books to the shelf opposite the door. He pretends not to notice their flushed cheeks and loosened ties and the way Draco tries to hold Ron's hand but gets nudged away.

"Everyone's left from the Great Hall," Snape mentions.

"Oh, you missed dinner?" Draco turns to Ron.

"Yeah," says Ron. "It's fine."

"I can get you something," Draco suggests to the surprise of Snape; Draco hasn't left his classroom for two days.

"Really, it's fine. They'll be something in the Common room."

"You sure?"

"Draco." Ron gives him a look.

"Fine, alright."

There's a moment of silence, then Ron says, "I guess I should get going."

They all return to the main classroom. Snape sits behind his desk while Ron and Draco go to the door.

"I'll get something sorted," mutters Draco. "I'm not waiting another month to see you again."

Ron smiles sadly. "Okay."

Draco leans in to kiss Ron, placing a hand gently on their waist, but Ron doges it. "Woah," they whisper, pushing his hand away.

Draco shoots him a confused look.

Snape's right there, Ron mouthes. Draco gives him a look as if to say and?

Snape pointedly walks back into the archives room with another stack of paper after seeing Ron's resigned looks. Draco kisses Ron, and this time they don't pull away.

"I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yeah," says Draco. "It won't be as long as last time."

"It better not me."

"Look after yourself. Don't do stupid shit for Potter or Granger."

"Yeah, sure," he grins. "See you, Draco."

"Bye, Ron."

Ron hesitates with their hand on the door handle, then slings their arms back around Draco before they go. Draco smiles and hugs him back, nestling a hand into their hair one last time.

"I swear to God if you don't go," Draco murmurs half a minute later. "I'll stay in your arms all night."

"What a lovely way to spend the night," mumbles Ron, closing their eyes.

Snape comes back in a moment later, assuming the silence meant that Ron had left. Instead, he sees the two clasping each other in a peaceful embrace. Ron hears the footsteps of Snape behind him.

"I should really go," they say.

"Alright," Draco says, releasing him. "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah, see you soon."

Snape notes the colour that has returned to Draco's cheeks and the way his eyes have brightened up.

"All good?" he says.

"Yes," says Draco, his smile slowly fading. "Thank you for letting them come."

"No problem."

Draco returns to the archives room. He can't focus on any work; thoughts consume his mind, of Ron and Snape and Slughorn and Voldemort and the inevitable war. He hugs himself, recalling the warmth of Ron's body, and the thoughts ease ever so slightly.

[Thursday 2nd October]

Snape drops a wad of paper on his desk as the bell for the end of the school day rings. Draco flinches from the corner of the room at the unexpected noise. It's his third day staying off school in Snape's classroom. Instead of confronting his thoughts about Slughorn, he's been doing whatever it takes to distract himself from thinking about it even for a second.

Despite Snape's promises, he still has the vague sense that things with Slughorn aren't over. How can they be while he's still trapped under the same roof as him? He silences his thoughts by playing against himself at chess for hours, locked away in the archives room. Now school has ended, Snape insists they sit together in the classroom.

"How's the chess going?" asks Snape. He has lessons to plan for tomorrow and the next week. It can wait, he thinks, closing his notebook and going to sit opposite Draco.

"It's going well," Draco says. "Although my opponent is very predictable."

"Do you want a game?"

"With you?"

"Yes."

"I didn't know you played," says Draco, resetting the pieces.

"I haven't, not for a while," Snape says. "But I used to be able to beat my mother."

"Was she good?"

"Probably not, in hindsight," says Snape.

"Do you want to be white or black?"

"White."

"Good choice," Draco says, immersing himself in potential openings depending on what Snape will play. He imagines Snape is a brilliant strategist.

"I was thinking," says Snape, halfway into the game and losing by two pawns. "We need to press charges against Professor Slughorn."

Draco blinks, suddenly detached from the chess game at the mention of Slughorn's name.

"No, we can't."

"We could get your father onside, maybe reduce it down to a one-time event for your sake but still enough to get him fired."

Draco shakes his head firmly. "It would ruin the family reputation, that's all he cares about these days. He'd probably think I'm weak or something for letting it happen."

"He wouldn't think that, Draco," Snape says sadly. "Lucius wants what's best for you and he wouldn't blame you for any of this."

"I'm just saying that it would turn out worse if we involved him."

"Okay, well, we don't have to tell him," Snape says. "We launch a formal complaint to the school, get Slughorn fired or at least suspended and put under investigation. Your father won't find out that way."

"No," says Draco, clutching his hands together desperately. "Please, you don't understand. He's- he'd ruin me. How do you think he's done all this so effectively all this time? If I could've told someone, I would've done so about eight months ago now."

"He has no proof of you and Ron being in a relationship, though."

"The accusation is enough," Draco says. "And you're right, it's his word against mine. Why would anyone believe me? The teachers will side with Professor Slughorn. He's, he's-" Draco's voice becomes thick. "He's got so many friends and allies and he's nice and got a good personality and all the students like him and enjoy his lessons and I'm sure the professors are friends with him too. No one will side with me: I'm a bully; I have about six friends and only one of them would defend me if it came down to it; most of the school is fighting against Voldemort while my father is, like, veir best friend; half the students think that I killed Dumbledore. They don't want me at Hogwarts. They probably think I'd be better off dead."

Snape shakes his head. "They don't think that."

Draco stares back with dead eyes. Yes they do.

"That's exactly what he said to me," says Snape, reminded of Slughorn's threats. "When I threatened to expose him, he talked down on me so I wouldn't speak up. His goal is to make us feel like no one would believe us. If we stay quiet, we're letting him win. He won't be expecting us to speak up, he won't be prepared. We can take him down."

"We can't," Draco protests. "He's got too much positive influence. As soon as he outs me, it's over. My life is over. The family reputation will be ruined, no pureblood family is going to let me marry their daughter, I'll end up leaving school a year early with no qualifications, and my parents will probably kick me out. It's all going to go to shit, my life will go to shit."

"Fearing people's reaction shouldn't be the thing that decides whether you press charges against Slughorn," Snape says. "People are so much more accepting nowadays."

"How?" Draco snaps. "I legally cannot be in a relationship with a man until I'm twenty-one. How the hell is that 'accepting'?"

Snape looks lost for words, and Draco runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I just, it's not even about that," he sighs. "The point is that no one is going to believe me when I make these accusations against Professor Slughorn because they're not going to see me as reliable. I mean, I'm seeing Ron bloody Weasely. That's, like, dumb levels of betrayal. They'll just think I'm trying to get back at him for outing me."

"People will take you seriously," Snape says firmly. "Your sexuality has no bearing on whether the Ministry will investigate allegations of sexual abuse on a student by a professor."

"Yes it will," Draco says, equally as adamant. "The Ministry doesn't care what happens to us. They'll be thinking, why should I believe that faggot Malfoy kid over a respected Hogwarts professor'?"

"Don't call yourself that," Snape frowns, slightly alarmed by the hostility in Draco's voice.

Draco raises his eyebrows but doesn't say anything else. He's made his position quite clear.

"Yeah, well, no one's going to believe me," he says in a flater tone. "So there's no point in trying."

"Who's told you that?" Snape asks. A rhetorical question- he's clutching at straws now. Draco's a difficult person to sway. "People will believe you, Draco. He's been manipulating you."

"I know that, I'm not stupid," says Draco almost scornfully. "I know he's trying to intimidate me and make me feel worthless. And you know what? It's working. The whole reason he chose me instead of Ron was because I'm, like, public enemy number one. He always told me that no one would believe me if I tried to tell the truth, and he was right because no one would. Everyone hates me and Professor Slughorn saw that and worked it to his advantage. I appreciate that you're trying to make me feel like we have a chance, but, realistically, we don't. No one would choose to defend me against him. He would ruin my life if I tried to expose him, he'd make sure of it."

Snape rubs the back of his neck, saddened by the rawness in Draco's voice. He can't help feeling desperation seep into his mind like an infection.

"But what if he does this to someone else? We can't let a paedophile teach at a secondary school."

Draco folds with hurt. "You're seriously guilt-tripping me about this?"

Snape bites his lip. "Sorry," he says, scolding himself. "I don't know why I said that. I'm just- Christ, I don't know what to do. I don't want to sit back and do nothing. He shouldn't be teaching."

"He's not going to do it to anyone else," says Draco, staring blankly down at the chessboard. "He's not a paedophile; he's an opportunist. He only went for me because I could help him.

"What do you mean he's not a paedophile?" Snape says incredulously. "You're seventeen, Draco, and he's old enough to be your grandfather."

"I'm basically a young adult," Draco mutters. "I've finished puberty, haven't I? I don't look like a child."

"You're seventeen," Snape repeats. "I don't know what the hell he's being saying to you but you're still a child even if you don't feel like one."

Draco shrugs. "Yeah, but it's not like he's going after ten-year-old kids. His aim was never to, I don't know what you want to call it, abuse me. He's always just wanted political power with Voldemort. I have nothing to do with it. If I'd agreed to do what he told me to in the first place, then he wouldn't have ever touched me. He wouldn't have been so extreme if he didn't have something big to gain or lose."

"I got the impression that being extreme was his nature," Snape says, refraining from commenting on Draco's other remarks.

"It's high risk, high reward," Draco says. "He's only been so- so like this because he's becoming pals with the future ruler of the wizarding world."

"That doesn't make it any better."

"Yes, it does. He's not doing this for the fun of it. He's not an evil man. Intention matters and his primary intention is to get power within the Dark Forces. Doing all this to me is just a necessary by-product."

"A necessary by-product?" Snape splutters. "Draco, he's been sexually and physically abusing you for nearly a year. He's put you in the San with three broken ribs and raped you driving you to suicide. His intentions are worth nothing. Look at the actions. Nothing could possibly excuse that. And I mean nothing."

Draco snaps his head back at Snape's plain words. He wonders why he's even trying to defend Slughorn in the first place.

Draco's tongue rubs against the roof of his mouth like sandpaper as he considers what to say next. Is he ready to lay down the whole truth?

"Professor Snape," he starts nervously.

"Yes?" Snape watches Draco fidget side to side and gathers that he wants to say something but can't bring himself to say it. "It's alright, you can tell me anything," he says gently.

"Well, uh, the whole reason I told you about all of this in the first place was because I'm scared that it's going past that," says Draco.

"Past what?"

"Being just a thing to gain him power. I kind of said it on Sunday, but something's been bugging me."

Snape leans forward, frowning in concentration. He's been waiting for Draco to talk about this again but hasn't wanted to push him for answers.

"What has?" he asks.

Draco stares down into his hands, forcing tears back. He doesn't want to even think about it, let alone say it out loud. The thought makes his skin crawl with such extreme disgust that he can't bear to consider it for another second.

"It's really- ugh," he mutters.

Snape sits patiently. "Take your time."

"I don't know if I can say it," sighs Draco, feeling his throat clench up. Then anger, for Slughorn, for the hold he has on him.

"Fine, I don't care, I'll say it. Since we came back to school, he's started coming to my bedroom in the evening and staying overnight, every few days at first. In the last two weeks, it's been pretty much every day."

The words flow from his mouth, tumbling over each other. The faster he admits it, the sooner the confession will be over.

"He wasn't being nearly as bad as he usually is. He was being weirdly nice and asking before doing anything and made sure I was feeling comfortable and he never even-" he sucks in a gulp of air. "It was all consensual, you know? He never forced himself on me or hit me or anything like before. If I were two months older, it would be legal, I guess if I was a girl."

"Draco, it wasn't consensual," Snape says sadly. "And it is certainly not legal, no matter age or gender. He's your professor."

"No, it was," says Draco. "And I fucking hate myself for it but I went along with everything he

asked. I thanked him for compliments, I offered to put on what clothes he wanted, I said he could kiss me-" The sickening words stick in his throat, and he quickly moves on before Snape can comment.

"He's never gone further than kissing for the whole month and he's never got angry at me, like, physically. Usually, he'd just talk to me for a bit and I'd drink the whiskey he gave me and I'd be passed out on the sofa in like fifteen minutes. If I didn't go straight out, we'd lie in bed and go to sleep. It was really uncomfortable and obviously I hated it because I was letting him grab me and he'd be breathing down my neck and he never got his fucking hands off me-"

Draco starts crying, gulping between breaths but determined to continue his explanation.

"I can hardly remember anything, it's all so fuzzy. All I know is it was the drink that knocked me out because apparently I'm a lightweight and I'd be out on the sofa-" his sobs get worse and he can barely manage to get his words out. "I'd wake up in my bed."

Snape's brows furrow even deeper trying to grasp what Draco's getting at.

"I just-" Draco wipes away the water falling from his eyes. "Sorry, I know I'm explaining this really shitly."

"No, you're doing well."

"Okay," Draco sniffs. "This is gonna sound really paranoid, but something was off about the whole thing, and I didn't want to admit it to myself when it was happening in case I freaked myself out and made everything worse. But I swear I'm not a lightweight, like, I've drank before and I've been fine, but this whiskey he gave me was so bloody strong it had me knocked out in fifteen minutes every single time. And Professor Slughorn never drank a drop of it. He always poured himself a glass and just sat there with it. I never asked him why, I just assumed he drank it after I went to sleep."

"So what are you saying?" asks Snape. "Do you think it wasn't whiskey?"

Draco pauses, the cogs in his brain starting to turn. "Yeah, I've had whiskey before and it tasted nothing like that so, I don't know, maybe he did something to it."

The horror of saying those words out loud unlocks something deep in his memory.

"He must've drugged me," he says slowly. "He drugged me. And I woke up in bed. And it hurt the next day, everything hurt. Do you think...?" Draco doesn't dare finish the sentence.

Snape watches him become extremely still and silent. Every detail of the last month runs through Draco's head: the unique tasting 'whiskey', how Slughorn never drank a drop of it, how he blacked out within minutes of drinking, why he woke up in his bed, the way his clothes were adjusted slightly in the morning, the searing pain in his lower back and thighs.

How did he miss it?

"Draco?" says Snape. "Are you okay?"

Draco doesn't dare make eye contact with Snape. When he speaks again, his voice comes out tiny and strained. "I think he was raping me. In the night, after he drugged me. I think he was- I think he raped me. Every night." Admitting it out loud instantly generates a wave of terror. Snape's face frowns with horror, but before he can form a response, Draco lurches forward, clutching the sides of his head.

"Professor Snape," he mutters, a ringing in his ears and black spots overwhelming his vision. "I'm going to-"

Snape quickly puts out his arms to catch Draco as he flops forward, unconscious.

Snape keeps hold of Draco as his body sags onto him. He doesn't let go, wiping silent tears from his face off with his shoulder. The confession, the realisation, and the breakdown. It hurts him, it hurts him deeper than Draco could ever imagine, to see him crumble while reciting what Slughorn did to him.

He was right: Slughorn is an opportunist. But he was also right regarding Slughorn taking things too far. Why would he spike his drink just to assault an unconscious body every night for weeks?

Maybe Slughorn planned for Draco to come to this realisation, and purposely dropped hints that he was being drugged but never actually went through with it. This seems like a stretch, though.

Slughorn is smart enough to know that he doesn't have to do anything this intricate to ensure Draco's silence.

Draco wakes up a minute later, his whole body clenching at being in someone's arms.

"You're okay," Snape says, alerting him that he isn't Slughorn and that they are sitting on chairs in his classroom rather together in Draco's bedroom. "You fainted."

Draco sits up, leaning into his chair. "Sorry I keep doing that."

"Do you need something to eat or drink?" Snape says. He watches Draco anxiously, waiting for him to recall why he passed out in the first place.

"Um, no thanks," says Draco. Then, he remembers.

His face collapses. "Oh, God," he whispers. Two thoughts consume him: how did he miss it, and why did Slughorn do it?

Snape pats his back while he sobs. "Breathe, Draco. It's okay," he says gently. "You're okay. Deep breaths."

"I didn't even realise," Draco whines, digging his fingernails into his thighs to ground himself. "I'm so stupid, how didn't I realise? That's why I woke up in pain. I just thought he was, I don't know, getting me drunk for the hell of it. Oh my God, I can't believe this, I didn't- how didn't I know?"

He starts trembling. "Why would he do that? Why would he even do that? I was asleep. It wasn't even for effect. He just... wanted to."

Draco glances up to Snape, drying his eyes. "Do I sound crazy? I mean I know it sounds far-fetched, but I swear it makes so much sense now."

"It doesn't sound crazy, Draco. Not at all," says Snape. "I believe you."

"Okay," he breathes with relief. "I just... I don't understand," he says in a tiny voice. "I don't understand why he'd do that, Professor Snape. It doesn't make sense."

Snape can't begin to think of a response to that question. "I am so sorry," he says instead. "He's insane, he's bloody insane. I am so sorry he's been using you like this. He's a monster. You deserve better."

Draco eyes Snape, wary of the rising emotional tones in his voice. He's never seen Snape cry, or even come close to it, not before this week.

"But you can't try and rationalise it, Draco. Some things don't have a reasonable explanation when they're done by evil people. It's-" He takes a deep breath. "I really don't know what else to say. Nothing I say can fix any of this. Thank you for sharing with me. I hope it helped to get things off your chest, although I imagine not much can help at this point. I wish I could do more."

Draco nods, looking back to the chessboard. Snape can't do anything. His sympathy is endearing yet impractical. Nothing can be done and they're just riding around in circles.

"I give up," he says, toppling his King as a sign of resignation. He's lost all interest in the game: it seems arbitrary now.

"Do you want another game?" asks Snape.

"No thanks."

Snape goes back to his desk to start marking some of the papers. He steals glances at Draco every so often, who's pressed against the back wall, and he feels even worse. He wanted to offer practical solutions and help Draco get through this, but he's managed to unearth some horrible, buried secret and is no closer to getting Slughorn locked up. He can't betray Draco's trust by going behind his back and telling someone about this, not now. He doesn't know what Slughorn is capable of, but something tells him if this accusation got out, he'd do whatever he could to bring Draco down with him.

"Professor Snape?" says Draco as the bell goes for the end of dinner, which neither of them attended.

Snape looks up from his marking. "Yes?"

"I should go back to lessons tomorrow."

Snape puts his quill down. "Tomorrow?"

"I've missed four days."

"You can miss lessons for as long as you want. Don't feel as though you have to go back in."

"I'm already behind on schoolwork."

"Why don't you start back on Monday?" suggests Snape. "There's not much point going back in for one day. Then you'd be starting the week afresh."

"Okay," Draco nods.

"But you're not going back to potions. Just come here when you have that. I might be teaching, actually. Do you want to just go up to your room?"

Draco shakes his head, twisting his hands together. "He has a key to my room."

"What?" Snape snaps, his face twisting with indignancy.

"Sorry," Draco mumbles. "I can go there if it's easier."

"No, no, I'm not angry at you," says Snape. "How the hell has Horace got a key to your room?"

"I don't know. He kind of just turned up one day with a key."

"When?"

"Um, at the start of this term. The first Monday back."

"Okay," Snape grimaces. "Well, I'll have to think of how to get around that. Maybe we could install a bolt on your door? Nevertheless, just come to my classroom. It doesn't matter if I'm teaching, I'll sort something out."

"Thank you," says Draco, the knot in his chest loosening. "I've worked out where Professor Slughorn is during the day, so I can avoid seeing him, like, in the corridor."

"Good plan," Snape says. "We'll get through this, okay? One week at a time."

Draco hugs his knees up to his chest and stares at the ticking second hand of the grandfather clock. One minute at a time. He can manage one more minute.