Chapter Three: Preparing to Confess

Author's Notes: this chapter is dedicated to maurie. ^_^ thanx, babe!

The man's stumble and swagger just earned him odd glances from the people passing him on the street, but the way his hood draped up and over his forehead, shadowing his face would frighten them. But what did he care? What sort of life did he have left, to care about what other people thought? He didn't even exist, for all they cared. He had been pushed from his own home into a shack with thirty other men, where some didn't even care to keep themselves clean. He had lost his family--a caring mother and father who had always financially supported him and his own. Still, there were some aspects of his life that remained to please him.

He hadn't seen his darling wife in quite some time.

Yes, no more howling from her, and no more orders about what he should do here or there. She tried to control politics through him, and had always been as vain and as selfish as possible. It was funny how she could turn from the devil's own to a perfect little angel once company came over... not that he entertained much anymore.

No, you don't get too many visits when you live in a shack--especially not with thirty other men who rely on their own stink to wake them up in the morning.

It was funny how life worked that way: one day you're a millionaire, living with a howling wife you've just ordered confined to a guest room in a completely different wing of the house with a miniature you wanting to know how his father ran things in business and follow him around for a day on the job. The next day, you're wallowing in misery, hating your boss's guts for the world and even wishing you could see your terrible wife again.

He reached the edge of the forest, looked up and down the length of the trees, and then stumbled in. As he passed the charred remnants of a building that had once graced the sky with 17 floors, he paid the rubble no mind. He didn't want to look at it. He didn't want to catch a glimpse of it.

Those ruins were, after all, where he'd died.

\*/ ~ \*/ ~ \*/

Patty walked through all her classes as though they hadn't even happened yet, still in a daze. In fact, she might have walked back to her first period once or twice, and could only vaguely remember Hector directing her down the right hall. She blocked out all sound, so she didn't answer when called upon, and only picked up small pieces of conversation from her friends.

"No, no, Patty. The lunchroom is this way..." Hector muttered, trying to keep his voice soft so the students of H. Willard wouldn't think all Hunton's pupils were this out of it. He caught sight of Draco and Lane halfway through the lunch hour.

"Do you have any idea what's wrong with this girl?" He asked, through clenched teeth, waving in Patty's general direction, where she picked at her food.

"Maybe it's that she's eating her salad with a spoon..." Lane muttered, putting a finger to his chin. Draco shook his head, "Looks fine to me."

"She's not normal at all--She keeps wandering into the wrong classes and her eyes do this weird thing like she's not alive or something," Hector looked at her now as she didn't even notice he was talking about her. Normally, he would get a slap in the face and a sore toe from one of her high heels, but today seemed unusually calm.

"She slept all through chemistry. That's normal," Lane offered. Draco nodded, even if he didn't take chemistry. Their companion sighed and left the table with three men staring after her and a full bowl of salad. She forgot her spoon.

***

Ron Weasley was tired of being pushed around by Muggles. Sure, a lot of them were nice, but there was this one group that just kept getting on his nerves. Punks--that's all they were. A mess of punks. Punks that were all just a mess. He wanted to put curses on every one of them--horrible, nasty curses that lingered and tortured for weeks on end. He formed a plan in his mind, thought it too vile to get away with, and discarded it as something a Malfoy would do.

If any of the Malfoys were still alive.

With a shudder, he stopped leaning against the flagpole and stood straight. Harry approached him and together they began complaining about the Muggles behavior towards them. Some were overly friendly, and others just cast the oddest glances they'd ever received. Something had to be done, but Hermione served as the brains for the group, and she was presently speaking with Ginny on the rudeness of the opposite sex. As Ron was busy being angry, he noticed an odd look grace Harry's features, as though confusion had set in and threw his train of thought off the tracks.

That Cummings boy was passing them.

Harry's brow furrowed, as he appeared lost in thought, and not one to be left out, Ron began searching his own memory for any time (rather than the water fountain or the bus incident) that he might've seen this fellow.

"I've seen him before..." Harry muttered, a frown etched on his face. Ron nodded, feeling the same sense of deja vu.

The lunch bell rang, interrupting their thoughts.

***

"Nope, sorry. Can't fix 'er," Josef lied. Draco smirked from behind the auto magazine he was pretending to read, keeping his face hidden so that if he started laughing, he could pass it off as a cough. Lane was trying on some of the fake nose rings, and Pansy was absent.

"What's wrong with it? Is it in the engine, or—"

"You got problems all over that overgrown van of yours. It's gonna have to be here for about a week," Josef finished polishing off a popsicle, and threw the sticky stick at the red-faced man in front of him. Whatever sort of nightgown he was wearing was starting to creep the gas station owner out, and he wasn't exactly planning on practicing his manners on this guy. "Don't worry—it won't cost that much."

Draco laughed, then suddenly began coughing.

An infuriated professor stomped out of the gas station, accidentally brushing the shoulder of a young girl who was heading inside. The girl turned around, short hair curving around her red cheeks. She'd never been so nervous before, but it was the only way to stop the guilt trip she'd been on lately.

Ignoring the amount of homework she had at home with "Uncle Brown" for acting dazed in school all day, Patty clenched her fists and gathered her courage.

"Excuse me… Professor Snape?"

The man stopped in his tracks. That voice…

******

Author's Notes:

^_^;; yeah, yeah, it's short and it's late, but I've been busy with homework and such. i just switched schools, and the adjustment is no playground. So, I guess I'm relating to little Draco (even though I never thought I would) but hey, like him, I made a couple friends easily enough. It's the work that bugs me. I've got a few more chapters logged up in my head (planned, not written) and you can all thank maurie for motivating me to get this new chapter up and inspiring the next few chapters.

Truly,

Maura Belle