Chapter 12
Everything that Draco Hated.
Draco looked around his room. That's it, I think, he said to himself, and picked up his heavy suitcase that contained his Hogwarts things. He was going back tomorrow. He checked his watch. Today, even. As quietly as possible, he took his case downstairs and set it ready by the front door. He crept upstairs again, undressed, and went to bed.
~*~
He stared out of the window on the Hogwarts express. Crabbe and Goyle were the only others there, and they had long since gone to sleep. Draco was glad; he didn't want their vague comments distracting him, for now at least.
Christmas had not gone well. His mother had been proclaimed to have a nervous disposition by her doctor, and told to stay in bed doing the very minimum. A small cynical voice had told him that she did that anyway, but he ignored it, and was the ever faithful son. She was his mother, after all, he couldn't desert her now.
His thoughts moved onto the now familiar distraction of Snape. He had gone numb; it seemed all so long ago, so surreal. But like Snape had said, they needed to talk, sort things out. Draco was still unclear on why it had happened. All he knew was that they had both gone along with it, and he had initiated it. Even then, he wasn't sure that he initiated it; had Snape not smiled at him, been very . . . well, friendly. But was it friendly, or 'friendly'? That, Draco really didn't know. These thoughts had been going on, round and round in his head for months now. . .well. About two months. Since it had happened. . .
He wasn't looking forward to this 'talk', either. It was going to be awkward.
And what had gone on at the Funeral? Was Snape that cool underneath? Was he acting it all? Why had he been so regretful to talk? Had he really had to go back then? Had he been so formal because of the people that had been in the house with them? Or because it was his friend's funeral? Draco's brow furrowed in frustration. And the letter. His father's letter remained as mysterious and as ambiguous as ever. He didn't want to ask Snape for help with it either, not after all that had happened.
It was such a mess! Chaotic, disorganised, everything that Draco hated.
The train drew to a halt at the platform, Draco woke his henchmen, disembarked, and they made for the castle.