The Difference
A semi-angsty fic by Alex Picchetti
in which Snape gives Draco a much needed talking to.
Rating: PG-13

Author's Notes: This was just something I felt like writing. I hate hate hate Snape (with a firey passion), but I think he's really good underneath. Even if he is a slimy git. And Draco is begging to be yelled at. (I love him though. Slimy gits are not created equal. You can forgive the blond ones ;) Ehhh... yeah. I like comments. ^_^ PG-13 for yelling and mild swearing.

***

Severus Snape was in the process of carefully examining every single mark on his desktop when the knock on the door finally came. It jarred him from his thoughts, which, he thought sardonically, was a relief; in between the memories were ideas which would have put him in St. Mungo's for life.
"Come in."
Draco Malfoy opened the door cautiously, casting curious glances at his professor and House Head. "Goyle said you wanted to see me, Professor?" He said hesitantly.
"Have a seat, Malfoy." The blond obeyed quickly and silently; Snape's mouth twitched. Obedience was something Malfoy was well-learned in - at least in the presence of those of importance.
"You are probably wondering why I've called you here." Draco nodded. "Very well; I'll cut to the chase. I suppose you know that I was once a Death Eater."
Draco's expression was shocked for a moment; a teacher, admitting to being a pawn of - He Who Must Not Be Named? However, the facial features soon melted into an expression of acknowledgement. "Father told me. He was counting on my being in Slytherin, and thought you would be a... proper influence," He replied noncomittally.
The sardonic smile returned. "I can imagine." Snape pressed his fingers into a steeple. "He likely thinks I will return to He Who Must Not Be Named in due time."
Now the boy's expression was confused. "You - aren't?" He asked haltingly. "Father seemed very sure..."
"Malfoy, your father told you from the moment you could understand the concepts of good and evil that you were destined to be a follower of the Dark Lord." Draco opened his mouth to agree, but Snape cut him off sharply. "Well, I'm going to tell you something. Every friend I had in Slytherin - Crabbe. Goyle. MacNair. Your father - each of them turned to He Who Must Not Be Named. They were, as all Slytherin are, ambitious. I was also ambitious. I, however, was different - I learned from my mistakes."
"Professor... what are you trying to say?" Malfoy's voice was plaintive; he had no idea what his favorite teacher was getting at.
Snape stood suddenly, slamming his fist on the table. "Damnit, Malfoy, you are not an idiot! Take a look at what is happening, will you? He Who Must Not Be Named promises power, oh yes. I was there. I got my share of promises. In the end, do you know what it was? Lies, Malfoy! He promises power. You kill those you know, perhaps even those you love - all for power. But He Who Must - no, VOLDEMORT, I will say it -" He was shouting now. "Voldemort will watch as you carry out his word and then give you nothing, nothing, Malfoy, do you understand that, but a brand forever marking you as his!" Exhausted from the rant, Snape sat heavily in his seat.
Malfoy could only look at him with thinly veiled terror in his eyes.
Snape breathed deeply. "What I'm trying to tell you, Malfoy," He said after a moment, now surprisingly calm, "Is that you have a choice. Not every Slytherin turns out bad. Just remember - not everyone is Albus Dumbledore; not everyone will give you a second chance." He gave Draco a meaningful look. "Understand?"
Malfoy managed a strangled, "Yes."
"Your father, and those that still serve Voldemort, are waiting for a reward that will never be granted, a prize that will never be awarded." After several long moments of silence, Snape said, "I'm not expecting you to ally with Potter, mind you." His voice held a tone of grim amusement. "I'm not even asking you to like him. Just - try and keep in mind which side is the right one, not which one is the stronger one. In the end, that will make all the difference." He fell silent for a few minutes. When he glanced up again, Draco was still sitting, seemingly fixed to his seat. "You may leave, Malfoy," He said, his tone tinged with irritation. "This conversation stays between the two of us, all right?" Malfoy nodded, gave Snape a weak smile, and vanished through the door. The professor sat back against his chair and sighed.
"That was a brave thing you did, Severus," Dumbledore's voice said quietly.
"I thought teachers weren't in the habit of using secret tunnels," Snape's quick rejoinder came heavily.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in the darkness. "And when have I ever been in the habit of following habits?"
"I just didn't want him to make my mistake," Snape whispered.
"And that caring may make all the difference."