It'll Be Better Soon

WARNING: This fic contains SLASH, male homosexual relationships. If you have a problem with this, don't even bother reading the disclaimer, just go now...

DISCLAIMER: All the characters are owned by the glorious Miss J. K Rowling... except Snape, who I keep tied to a chair in my bedroom. JUST JOKING. Unfortunately.

SUMMARY: (You know, if you were real smart you would have read the pretty one outside...) Draco gets some disturbing news, and finds himself turning to his favourite teacher for comfort...

SPOILERS: umm. I'll just say all of them, otherwise I'll end up contradicting myself.

Chapter 1

It'll Be Better Soon

When he entered the room, he saw only Snape's back, hunched over, his long slender fingers buried in his glistening black hair, head in hands. He could think of nothing to say so  Malfoy moved towards his teacher silently. Some how Snape must have heard him, for he said, "Mr. Malfoy. What a pleasant surprise," in a flat monotone voice, so different from the silken tones he usually spoke to Malfoy in.

Draco paused. How had he known he was here? Why was he, Draco, here in Snape's office anyway? He felt confused, still recovering from the news that his owl had brought to him only half an hour before. He paused again. The silence in the stone room was prolonged again, Snape had still not turned to face him.  Maybe he should tell him…?

"Err. . .yeah, it's just that. . ."

No! Not now! Before he could stop himself, tears streamed down his face again, as they had for the last half hour.

"Oh, gods. . ." whispered Malfoy in an undertone, wishing with all his heart that he could stop his tears. Snape still hadn't moved, though it was possible that his head had sunken deeper into his hands.  Malfoy couldn't tell; his vision was blurred.

"So you've heard then, Draco?" said Snape, also in a low tone that could possibly also disguise hidden tears. Despite his misery, Malfoy couldn't help notice, Snape had called him Draco. Even through his currant dismay and general unhappiness, old dreams fought their way through, begging to be heard. And acted out. Calm down, Draco, he told himself, and answered Snape's best he could.

"Yeah, they... they... gods, they sent me his owl..."

He couldn't help it, he was now crying full out, choking on emotion, he tried his best to carry on, eyes closed in a vain hope that the action would stop the tears.

"They said that... they said that, mother..." his voice caught again, he stopped unable to go on.  He bit his lip, realising that he was shaking. He opened his eyes, tears splattering on the cold floor. He looked up at Snape, and was surprised to see that Snape had turned round and stood up. He looked as though he had been crying also. On seeing the blonde, mirror image of Lucius, tears sprung again in his dark eyes.

"…I'm sorry, Draco," he managed, and turned away, ashamed of his tears, his sudden show of emotion.

"I can't stand it… you've got to help me sir... please... "

Snape never knew quite why he did it, but he never regretted it, not once afterwards.  In one smooth motion, he moved towards the shaking  boy, man even, of seventeen, and pulled him into a tight embrace, what could only be described as a hug. Draco squeezed his teacher back, wrapping his arms around Snape's waist, burying his head into his shoulder.  They stood there for several minutes, both crying of the memory of the late Lucius Malfoy, both taking comfort from the others embrace, not wanting to let go.

"It'll be better soon, Draco. It will be better," Snape murmured, reassuring himself as much as the boy he held.