A/N: Nope, still don't own a thing... still don't have any reviews, either. Oh well. I decided on my own that Snape does favour Malfoy genuinely, we'll get to more of that later.

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Sacrifices

Part Three - Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Draco's next few lessons passed like a blur. Contrary to what Professor McGonagall had advised him, he didn't pay attention in any of his classes. Instead he spent the entire afternoon's lessons daydreaming. Thankfully, he wasn't called upon to answer any questions by his other teachers. Draco accepted this as further testament that McGonagall had it in for him. She was, afterall, a Gryffindor.

Draco had to admit, though, he certainly enjoyed divination. There had, as usual. been a forecast of Harry Potter's demise, and although Draco had learnt by now that the Divination professor was nothing but a drama queen, there was still something soothing about hearing that Saint Potter was going to die a terrible, terrible death. He'd come close a few times, nobody could dispute that. Perhaps he'd get lucky and the prophecy would come true... although he would, afterall, have to be extremely lucky.

Yet it was with hope that Draco Malfoy strode towards Professor Snape's classroom. Even if Malfoy lucked out and Potter didn't die, at least he could be assured he'd be yelled at and humiliated in potions. That was infinately comforting.

Draco strode into the classroom and sat between Goyle and Crabbe. He didn't bother to say hello. 'The thickheads probably wouldn't understand me anyway' he thought. If they noticed his arrival, they gave no indication. They simply sat there, with a blank look on their faces. Draco looked sideways and scowled. Weasle, the mudblood and Potter were laughing about something. He glanced back to his own two companions (lapdogs) and groaned inwardly. He thought Potter would have been in a more subdued mood, with confrontation with Snape just minutes away. But no, here he was laughing with his little girlfriend and the weasle, as if nothing were wrong.

'Easy for you, Potter' he thought bitterly. 'Everybody adores the little Potty. Merlin! He had it so easy. The entire school were in awe of him just because of something he did as a baby. 'We can't forget the Sorcerer's Stone, Chamber of Secrets, or the Triwizard Tournament, and of course defeating Voldemorte yet again, now can we?'. The infuriating little voice was back with a vengeance. "Shove it" he muttered under his breath.

"Huh?"

It was Goyle. So he noticed me afterall, Draco mused.

"I was just saying McGonogall can take her bloody ferret and shove it"

Goyle laughed, and his shoulders heaved up and down. Draco doubted whether Crabbe had heard the conversation, but soon he too was laughing. It was pathetic, Draco thought, but puffed out his chest with pride all the same and plastered a trademark smirk on his face. 'See Potter?' he thought 'You're not the only one who can crack up a room'.

It was at that moment that the doors to the classroom swung open, and in stalked Professor Snape, looking as daunting and vehement as ever.

"Open your text books to page three-forty-five. The ingredients are on the front desk, I expect you to have it finished by the end of the lesson."

Draco opened the text book in a vaguely interested way and glanced at the potion described.

Revelio: This potion is an alternative to the popular spell. It has the same effects, but in a much more potent form. All concealing charms are broken when this potion is ingested. The only drawback to its higher potency is that it can only be used on living things. The Revelio Potion was originally created by...

Draco felt a sick feeling rise in his stomach. His arm, what about his arm? But maybe they wouldn't actually use them. Perhaps they would just make them then - what? Just tip it out again? He glanced back at the ingredients list. Some of them were relatively expensive. They wouldn't just waste them. But maybe they were planning on keeping a batch in the storerooms just in case they're needed at a later time. He needed to know.

"Professor?" He drawled, rasing his hand slightly, this basic courtesy an odd site coming from Draco. Certainly he wouldn't extend the same manners to any other teacher. Snape turned around, and as his eyes fell on Malfoy his predetory glance fell away and became - not warm - it was difficult to imagine Snape's gaze ever being warm, but certainly less-cold.

"Yes Malfoy?" he asked in an almost pleasantly polite tone

"The potions - we're not actually going to use them, are we?" he asked, and cringed at the almost desperate sound that had crept into his voice. Snape looked momentarily confused, then regained his stoic expression and answered in a flat tone,

"Why, of course. Surely you didn't think we would simply waste it?"

Malfoy flushed, but was at least comforted by that fact that Snape's voice, usually dripping with sarcasm, seemed simply casually inquiring.

"Of course not, sir. I just thought you may be making a batch for the school storage or something to that effect" he said in a suprisingly relaxed tone. Snape seemed pleased. He smirked, winking at him conspiritorily.

"No, Master Malfoy, I would have liked to, but I can't think of anything offhand that the students at this school did to warrant the misfortune of having to ingest something Longbottom brewed" Longbottom blushed and looked downwards in embaressment. Harry Potter glared at Snape.

"Detention, Potter, don't ever stare at me that way again. You're lucky I didn't take house points.

Draco would normally have been grinning wildly right now, but the joy of seeing Potter knocked off his little throne was tainted by his trepidation about the revealing potion. On the train he had been wearing long sleeves. Crabbe had only seen the bottom of his arm when the sleeve had rolled back slightly. Today, feeling assured because of the concealing spell, Draco had worn short sleeves. It would be easy to explain away a bruise or two on his arm. But what would he do when someone saw that the bruises trailed all the way up both his arms? Draco shifted nervously. He could say he was sick, but then Snape would send him to Madam Pomfrey. Would she cast a Revelis spell anyway? Would Snape simply ask him to drink the potion before he left? He couldn't discount it. All in all, he was in between a rock and a hard place, as the saying goes.

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