Disclaimer: Harry Potter, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Het. Angst. Kisses.

Spoilers: Previously written story: Like Glass. Written Pre-OotP.

The Shattering
Chapter 4 - The Way We Do Things

"Mr. Malfoy, please have a seat." A flutter of pitch black robes followed Draco through the dank office, and he sank regally onto the leather chair facing Snape's desk. This little meeting had been a long time coming, but Draco wasn't sure today was the best day for it.

Just yesterday he'd had to say goodbye to probably the only friend he'd ever had, and watch as, just as he'd predicted himself, Ginny Weasely cried the day away. He was still dealing with the hopeless, 'please help me,' look she'd given him. As if he could do anything, as if he would if he could've.

Harry had been disgusted, and had complained angrily to Draco that Blaise was an idiot for not trying harder to stay at Hogwarts, to stay with the girl he loved.

And so they'd fought, and Harry had asked why. Why did he have to leave her? And Draco could only say, "Because."

He didn't know how to explain to Harry that, yes, even parents like Blaise's held power over their progeny. That the phrase 'starved for affection' wasn't just for the bourgeoisie.

They both knew that Harry was really asking whether Draco would leave too.

And Draco didn't know how to tell him that, yes, given half a chance, and not because he didn't love Harry. No, it was because...

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape's voice brought him back to the present. "I don't particularly care to have this discussion more than once, so please, bring yourself back from wherever you've gone and try to pay attention."

"Yes, sir." Draco cleared his throat and stared at his professor, who said nothing. He hesitated for a moment, "The past few days have been..."

"Quite." Snape's eyes were boring into him, and Draco barely stopped himself from looking away.

Weak, he was not.

"I assume you are aware of today's topic of conversation, Mr. Malfoy."

"Harry."

Professor Snape snorted in the back of his throat, and Draco raised an eyebrow, the tension broken. "Mr. Potter, the bane of my existence. Why should I wish to speak of him?"

"I had assumed-" that you'd want to lecture me on my terminally stupid behavior?

"Don't. Admittedly, I do not approve. It is, however, your life Mr. Malfoy. I have no say in it, provided you keep the public displays to a minimum and you do not... indulge... on school property."

Draco stared at him for a moment, nonplussed. "Then...?"

"I wish to discuss your parents. And their plans for you."

"You've spoken to them, then." Draco finally looked away from him, nervous. His palms were already sweating. But he looked back in time to see Snape shaking his head.

"No, Mr. Malfoy, senior, is being closed-mouthed. No one's heard a word from him on the subject."

"Neither have I." That seemed to surprise his professor, and Draco smiled weakly. "He's hoping the suspense will kill me, I'm sure."

Snape's mouth curled up in a derisive smile not aimed at Draco. "It would seem so. I do however, wish to be prepared."

"Like Blaise was?"

Snape lost his smile and glared at Draco, then clasped his hands together before him. "The situations are entirely different, Mr. Malfoy."

"No. Not really. I see much in common."

"I don't. The Zabinis, in the end, love their son and want him to be happy. If this little relationship of his with Miss Weasley survives the test of distance, she'll be accepted into the family."

Draco exhaled slowly, "You know this?"

"They mentioned it to me, in conference. It's not to go beyond this room," he gave Draco a stern look.

"It's cruel-"

"It's the way we do things, Mr. Malfoy."

And there was the cold, hard truth, wrapped up in a line Draco had heard before. Father, why did we pay the nice Aurors? Don't they get paid already? Why must I wear the new robes? I like my old ones better. Why can't I be friends with that boy? It doesn't matter that his father owns a shop.

It's the way we do things, Draco.

Draco sucked in a breath and then let it slowly out. "If that's all, then?"

"No. Draco." Snape unclasped his hands and sighed. "Your father..."

"We don't know what he'll do until he does it. We might as well wait."

"He's unhappy with your new situation."

Draco bit back a sarcastic 'Thank you, Professor Obvious.' and glared at the floor. "He sees love as a weakness."

"Yes, I'm aware of your father's views on weakness."

"Are you?"

"I'm also aware of what tactics he may use to sway you-"

"So am I. They won't work."

Won't they, Draco?

"In any case, I would like to extend the offer of scholarship to you, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco looked up from the rug and blinked away the surprise that must have shown on his face. "Scholarhip?"

"You're a gifted student, Mr. Malfoy, despite your lack of intelligence in other areas of your life. I would hate to see you leave."

"You didn't offer this to Blaise."

"No. I didn't need to. The situations, as I've said, are different."

"Of course, because my parents will move right past threats and onto bribery."

"Quite."

Draco shook his head in confusion for a moment, "You'd go against my father?"

"I'm not afraid of him, Draco."

"You should be. I am."

"I simply need you to know, Draco, that if it comes down to money, you'll be taken care of."

Draco looked up at the grave face of his favorite teacher, overwhelmingly glad that his love for Harry hadn't alienated him from everyone he cared for. "Thank you, professor."

Snape nodded and then gestured at the door, their meeting over.

* * *

"How did it go?" Harry's voice was anxious, and Draco looked up from the grass he'd been worrying at into those lovely, comforting green eyes.

"Surprisingly well."

Harry smiled a relieved smile, and bent down to kiss Draco's forehead before seating himself next to him in the moonlit field where they'd shared their first kiss.

"He approves, then?"

Draco snorted in genuine amusement. "Of course not."

"Oh?" Harry was frowning at him now.

"He thinks I'm an imbecile. He definitely hates you. Give me a proper kiss, now."

Harry leaned over and their lips met briefly, though Harry still wore a confused frown.

"How is that well?"

Draco shrugged. "It could have been worse, I suppose. He says my life is my own and he doesn't care what I do with it, so long as I don't 'indulge' on school property."

"Ah." But Harry obviously didn't get it, and Draco was too exhausted to explain.

"How is the Weaselette?"

"Don't call her that. She's still upset, but she stopped crying."

"That's good."

"No, it's really not. Ron's worried."

Draco nodded. "He shouldn't be. Tell her not to give up. Distance isn't an insurmountable obstacle, and there are always owls."

"Are there?" and Harry was staring straight at him.

Draco sighed, his eyes dropping back down to the grass. "Harry..."

"Should I invest in a new owl, for when you leave, Draco?" His voice had a touch of bitterness in it, as if Draco had already left.

"Don't bother."

There was a pregnant pause.

"I see," came the icy response finally.

"You really don't. My father isn't going to give me that option."

"Are you sure?"

"Fairly."

"Would you go, if it was an option?"

"In a heartbeat."

Harry flinched.

"I love him, Harry."

"He doesn't love you."

And didn't the truth sting? Poor Draco Malfoy whose father never really loved him, because Malfoys don't love. Except this one.

"It doesn't make me love him any less."

They were silent, and Draco couldn't look up from the grass in his hands.

"I love you, Harry," he whispered.

A breath was let out from the boy beside him, and he smelt Harry as he leaned into him. "I know, Draco. It doesn't make me love you any less, even though you think it should."

Draco winced internally. Maybe a part of him was sure that weakness made him undeserving of love. Because that, of course, must be the reason Lucius didn't love him. Too much weakness, too little strength.

"I'd love you even if you went away skipping. Even if you never wrote me at all."

"He'll write." Draco interrupted hoarsely.

"I know. I'd love you even if you turned around tomorrow and told me it was all a joke, or a trap, or a plan to give me to Voldemort."

"I wouldn't tell you if it was an evil plan to turn you over to the Dark Lord."

Harry cut off a chuckle, and Draco finally looked up, immediately falling into Harry's gaze.

"I'd love you even if you hated me. Because, Draco... I thought you did for such a long time, and still I loved you."

"I thought I did, too."

They were whispering to each other now, and leaning in with every word, until their lips met and they stayed connected for a long while.

Eventually, Draco pulled back and smirked at Harry. "Care to 'indulge' with me on school property?"

"Why Mr. Malfoy," Harry joked, "we'll be caught for sure. You're an awful influence."

"No need to ply me with compliments now, Potter. You've already got me."

"Yes, well. It never hurts to be overly sure of my welcome with you. It's the way I'm going to do things."

"That's disgustingly romantic. Stop it."

"Yes, sir."

End Chapter