Disclaimer: Again, don't own, don't sue.
AN: Since I got so many reviews on my first chapter in less than 24 hours, I figured I'd start on another chapter right away ^_^ Enjoy, and comment!
Chapter II
The way back to the Slytherin Dungeons seemed to take longer. Every step was automatically done. It's funny how even when you're not paying attention to where you're going, you still end up getting there. Strange, yet convenient.
As if Draco didn't have enough to think about, now he was reminiscing about the encounter with his potions professor. For some reason, he felt a little uneasy. Getting sympathies from the least sympathetic person alive made the blonde feel pathetic. He must have been, too, if that was the case. Draco must have had some sort of disturbed look on his face during that time he was in potions, or maybe his grades were falling . . . he hoped that wasn't the case. If he had gotten any records lower than what he already had, there would be hell to pay with Lucius.
Brushing back rogue strands of blonde from his eyes, he descended one of the many staircases. Students were still chatting animatedly with their friends in the hallways. First years were laughing, girls were gossiping, a few younger Slytherin boys were playing keep away with a Hufflepuff's wand. Draco sneered. How immature . . . and yet he could still remember a time he did that once. He must have been a real brat back then.
But then again, that was before his father had started to abuse him . . . Poor Draco was probably too traumatized now to be his normal, annoying self again.
~][~
A headache was starting to form. A single pale hand raised to rub his temples as Severus moved to his desk. At least classes were over for the day. All that was left to hear in the once noisy dungeon was the soft click of the professor's shoes against the polished stone floor. Such a lonely sound, it was.
Taking a seat at his desk, Severus routinely pulled out his quill and red ink and started to grade papers. It wasn't a very exciting pastime, but it had to be done. The process of grading was so simple it was rather subconscious; meaning he could mark papers and think at the same time. Which he usually did, and this time it was no different.
Normally the potions master would think of things which reflected on himself. Sometimes he would think of his past and wish he could change it. Of course, he would scorn himself afterwards . . . it didn't do to think on the past when you can't do anything to fix it. More often than not, Severus would be thinking of some sort of complex potion he had been working on. It was addictive, like an unfinished book; you just had to find out the ending of it, or you would go insane.
Occasionally he would think of his students and staff, but that was rare. The only few times he could remember such an occasion was when a student was failing his class. Yet being the sadistic bastard he usually was, he found himself imagining how horrible the rest of their life would be as they failed at everything else. He would never voice these thoughts aloud, however. No idiot who wanted to keep his job would.
No, today his thoughts were directed towards Draco. Only seldom had he thought of the young Malfoy, and smiled to himself alone when he realized how much the younger boy was starting to look and act like his father. It was at least two or three years ago that he had been his cocky and self-assured persona, but it felt as though it was only yesterday. He remembered when Malfoy was dragged into his room a good three years ago in tears, and had explained his horrible experience as a white ferret.
Despite the good memories that brought back, Severus felt a sudden depression weighed on his shoulders.
Yes, those were certainly the better years; when he was able to watch as Draco grew and help him along the way. It made him sad to think that time was over, and the young Malfoy was too grown up. At least he had what. . .five, six months left to teach him. And be able to watch over him until he left for the real world.
Being the boy's Head of House was an advantage in that case . . . but one thing still disturbed the professor. Draco had never come to him willingly. He was always sent to him by means of the staff or detention. Not once had he seen the blonde at his door for advice or comfort. Was Severus really that intimidating now? Did he scare children into the discomfort of being around him?
Probably . . .
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Severus stopped grading papers and closed his ink bottle, reaching over to grab a cloth to clean his quill. His thoughts had gotten to him again. He couldn't help it. Seeing Draco after class that day with such a distraught look on his face . . . he couldn't help but offer his services in some remote way. Even though the boy was most likely not going to heed them.
The way his student backed away from him so awkwardly, his innocent yet corrupted eyes nervous, made the professor rethink his approach on everything. Perhaps he had become so stoic to the world that he had lost his care for others.
Obviously that wasn't the case, since he was so depressed over one simple student.
Stashing his things away, Severus moved out of the room in no real hurry. Black robes caressed the stone floor as he moved. Students had pretty much left to their Common Rooms at this time, which was about five o'clock. Dinner would be soon, but the professor had a feeling he wouldn't be attending. He fell victim to his thoughts again, making his way to the dark, cold, lonely room in which was his quarters.
~][~
Poor Draco felt as though he was going to be sick by the time he had reached his dormitories. His continued thoughts on his family, school life, and Head of House made his stomach flip several times. The Malfoy's life wasn't looking very good from this angle . . . but in a way, it was.
He had lost his faith in most everything. He was questioning life, emotion, this pathetic thing called "love" as he looked around the halls. Love was such an overused word . . . when what was really meant was "affection". To call a relationship that is bound to last only a week love is ridiculous. Love, to Draco, was something that meant an eternal bond. Not that he was a fan of "bonds" of any sort.
In fact, the concept of it frightened Draco. His father had claimed to love him, his mother had claimed to love him. . .and look what that got him. His father was an overly possessive character who would temporarily paralyze Draco (or use the archaic version and chain him to the bed) and then beat him brutally. His mother had left him for her own safety, and refused to take Draco out of school so he could join her. He hadn't received a letter from her once.
Sitting down on his four poster slowly, the sheets still a mess from the morning, Draco buried his face in his hands. He would have cried, and no one was there to witness it, but he just couldn't. He was too empty even to do that. He needed something to do . . . homework maybe. No, on hindsight that didn't sound so great, either. Well, dinner was in an hour. . .he could wait for that.
Or he could go talk to Severus . . .
________________________
TBC
AN: Since I got so many reviews on my first chapter in less than 24 hours, I figured I'd start on another chapter right away ^_^ Enjoy, and comment!
Chapter II
The way back to the Slytherin Dungeons seemed to take longer. Every step was automatically done. It's funny how even when you're not paying attention to where you're going, you still end up getting there. Strange, yet convenient.
As if Draco didn't have enough to think about, now he was reminiscing about the encounter with his potions professor. For some reason, he felt a little uneasy. Getting sympathies from the least sympathetic person alive made the blonde feel pathetic. He must have been, too, if that was the case. Draco must have had some sort of disturbed look on his face during that time he was in potions, or maybe his grades were falling . . . he hoped that wasn't the case. If he had gotten any records lower than what he already had, there would be hell to pay with Lucius.
Brushing back rogue strands of blonde from his eyes, he descended one of the many staircases. Students were still chatting animatedly with their friends in the hallways. First years were laughing, girls were gossiping, a few younger Slytherin boys were playing keep away with a Hufflepuff's wand. Draco sneered. How immature . . . and yet he could still remember a time he did that once. He must have been a real brat back then.
But then again, that was before his father had started to abuse him . . . Poor Draco was probably too traumatized now to be his normal, annoying self again.
~][~
A headache was starting to form. A single pale hand raised to rub his temples as Severus moved to his desk. At least classes were over for the day. All that was left to hear in the once noisy dungeon was the soft click of the professor's shoes against the polished stone floor. Such a lonely sound, it was.
Taking a seat at his desk, Severus routinely pulled out his quill and red ink and started to grade papers. It wasn't a very exciting pastime, but it had to be done. The process of grading was so simple it was rather subconscious; meaning he could mark papers and think at the same time. Which he usually did, and this time it was no different.
Normally the potions master would think of things which reflected on himself. Sometimes he would think of his past and wish he could change it. Of course, he would scorn himself afterwards . . . it didn't do to think on the past when you can't do anything to fix it. More often than not, Severus would be thinking of some sort of complex potion he had been working on. It was addictive, like an unfinished book; you just had to find out the ending of it, or you would go insane.
Occasionally he would think of his students and staff, but that was rare. The only few times he could remember such an occasion was when a student was failing his class. Yet being the sadistic bastard he usually was, he found himself imagining how horrible the rest of their life would be as they failed at everything else. He would never voice these thoughts aloud, however. No idiot who wanted to keep his job would.
No, today his thoughts were directed towards Draco. Only seldom had he thought of the young Malfoy, and smiled to himself alone when he realized how much the younger boy was starting to look and act like his father. It was at least two or three years ago that he had been his cocky and self-assured persona, but it felt as though it was only yesterday. He remembered when Malfoy was dragged into his room a good three years ago in tears, and had explained his horrible experience as a white ferret.
Despite the good memories that brought back, Severus felt a sudden depression weighed on his shoulders.
Yes, those were certainly the better years; when he was able to watch as Draco grew and help him along the way. It made him sad to think that time was over, and the young Malfoy was too grown up. At least he had what. . .five, six months left to teach him. And be able to watch over him until he left for the real world.
Being the boy's Head of House was an advantage in that case . . . but one thing still disturbed the professor. Draco had never come to him willingly. He was always sent to him by means of the staff or detention. Not once had he seen the blonde at his door for advice or comfort. Was Severus really that intimidating now? Did he scare children into the discomfort of being around him?
Probably . . .
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Severus stopped grading papers and closed his ink bottle, reaching over to grab a cloth to clean his quill. His thoughts had gotten to him again. He couldn't help it. Seeing Draco after class that day with such a distraught look on his face . . . he couldn't help but offer his services in some remote way. Even though the boy was most likely not going to heed them.
The way his student backed away from him so awkwardly, his innocent yet corrupted eyes nervous, made the professor rethink his approach on everything. Perhaps he had become so stoic to the world that he had lost his care for others.
Obviously that wasn't the case, since he was so depressed over one simple student.
Stashing his things away, Severus moved out of the room in no real hurry. Black robes caressed the stone floor as he moved. Students had pretty much left to their Common Rooms at this time, which was about five o'clock. Dinner would be soon, but the professor had a feeling he wouldn't be attending. He fell victim to his thoughts again, making his way to the dark, cold, lonely room in which was his quarters.
~][~
Poor Draco felt as though he was going to be sick by the time he had reached his dormitories. His continued thoughts on his family, school life, and Head of House made his stomach flip several times. The Malfoy's life wasn't looking very good from this angle . . . but in a way, it was.
He had lost his faith in most everything. He was questioning life, emotion, this pathetic thing called "love" as he looked around the halls. Love was such an overused word . . . when what was really meant was "affection". To call a relationship that is bound to last only a week love is ridiculous. Love, to Draco, was something that meant an eternal bond. Not that he was a fan of "bonds" of any sort.
In fact, the concept of it frightened Draco. His father had claimed to love him, his mother had claimed to love him. . .and look what that got him. His father was an overly possessive character who would temporarily paralyze Draco (or use the archaic version and chain him to the bed) and then beat him brutally. His mother had left him for her own safety, and refused to take Draco out of school so he could join her. He hadn't received a letter from her once.
Sitting down on his four poster slowly, the sheets still a mess from the morning, Draco buried his face in his hands. He would have cried, and no one was there to witness it, but he just couldn't. He was too empty even to do that. He needed something to do . . . homework maybe. No, on hindsight that didn't sound so great, either. Well, dinner was in an hour. . .he could wait for that.
Or he could go talk to Severus . . .
________________________
TBC