Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
A/N: Yeah, this chapter took forever simply because I'm having problems in school e.e Anyway, here it is so...enjoy. This chapter is a bit more graphic, but nothing extreme.
Chapter IV
The first thing that came to his mind as he entered the room, was that his professor had used his first name. It actually startled him to some extent.
The room was actually warmer than he had expected. Almost comforting, compared to the frigid hallways. It had a nice, inviting atmosphere to it. As Draco looked around the room, he noticed a glass of wine on the table near the fire, and he raised an eyebrow. Well that was something new; he didn't think his professor was one for liquor. Wonders never ceased.
Draco merely stood in the doorway, looking down at the floor as he was invited in. He heard the door close behind him and didn't bother to turn around, or even raise his vision for that matter. Living with Lucius had taught the young Malfoy not to be 'disrespectful', and in this case, if he looked up at his professor he would be just that.
So, he occupied himself by staring at the floor and his shoes while Severus walked around him. Great, less than five minutes in and already he was starting to feel awkward. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Draco raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. What was he supposed to do? Gathering his nerves and self confidence together, he finally cleared his throat to the professor standing before him.
"Sorry to bother you so late at night, Professor," he started, moving his hand back down to his side and subconsciously placing it in his robes pocket, "but . . . well, you said I could come by if I . . . wanted to talk." At this, he raised his head to look up at his Head of House, whom he was expecting to have an impatient expression. But he didn't.
No, instead he looked different. It was interesting . . . He seemed rather, un-Snape like. His black eyes weren't cold and hollow, and his face wasn't hard and emotionless. This puzzled Draco, and he simply looked up at the man as he waited for an answer. However, none came immediately, and this added to the Malfoy's discomfort. "Sir..?"
"It's not late, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said simply, not adding onto that as he moved away from the blonde to the direction of where he was most likely sitting before Draco had interrupted. Not sure whether to follow or not, he remained in front of the closed door with his hands still in his robe pockets. Already, he could tell this would be a hard night.
Obviously Severus had caught Draco's nervousness, and the professor sat back down in his recliner. "Don't just stand in the doorway, Mr. Malfoy, come sit down." He picked up his glass of wine and held it in his hand in front of him as he watched the fire. At least he hadn't used his rude commands he usually barked at students who came into his office late at night for detentions. Of course, this wasn't his office, and neither was it detention.
Respectfully doing as he was told, Draco sat down on the couch near the recliner, sitting near the arm of the furniture so he could lean against it slightly. Being here suddenly made him awfully tired. He resisted the urge to yawn or press a hand against his eyes as he too watched the fire as it danced merrily. Just about the only light in the room, it was.
This time, Draco didn't have to break the silence, as Severus did it for him. "I'm sure you must be slightly surprised to have me offer you my counsel," he started, swishing the red wine in his glass slightly and setting it down on the table with a soft clink, "but I know something isn't right, Mr. Malfoy. Your grades have been slipping, not too considerably mind you, and I've found you not to be paying attention in my class." So much for the casual approach.
At his words, Draco drew his eyes away from the fire to the opposite side of the room, almost as if he was embarrassed to look at the same fire Severus was. He knew this was true. And he shouldn't have been so surprised to hear it spoken.
"I know, Sir." That was all he could bring himself to say. The last couple of weeks had been hard on him, after all, so why wouldn't his teachers notice? Especially his head of house. He raised a hand to rub the back of his neck uneasily. He knew Severus was watching him, and the silence that followed made goose bumps spread over his skin. Oh, how much Draco hated awkward silences . . .
And this one seemed to last forever. Draco shifted his position a few times on the couch before looking up at Severus to see he actually wasn't being watched. Instead, the Professor was looking at the fireplace, seeming to be in his own world of thoughts. An uneasy feeling had long since settled in his stomach, and he was starting to feel a little nauseated. Why did he feel so uncomfortable? He had been in the same position with his father before, and he had gotten used to the tenseness as it hung in the quiet air.
Again the Professor spoke, but it seemed more hushed this time. "Mr. Malfoy . . . I'm not trying to meddle in your personal affairs," he paused to turn towards Draco, his dark eyes appearing darker. "But I don't want to see you fall behind, either." These words seemed to strike something in Draco, and the blonde looked down at the rug. Fall behind? He didn't . . . he couldn't afford to.
His eyes fell to the ground, and his thoughts began to wander.
~][~
Draco's uneasy sleep was disturbed by a sudden added weight at the foot of his bed. It couldn't have been earlier than two o'clock in the morning. Whenever the young blond felt that added weight at his bed, he knew silver eyes which he inherited were watching him as he slept. It made him uneasy, and sometimes physically sick. He absolutely hated his father's presence, and that was who it always was who sat at the foot of the bed.
He didn't want to, but he opened his eyes anyway. They were already adjusted to the darkness of the room, and he could see the older man's silhouette perfectly. A cold shiver spread over his skin from being jolted from his unconscious state to see a haunting figure leering over him in the middle of the night. It was like a horror movie, just before the main character got his head cut off.
Draco didn't speak, and neither did his father for a while. After a minute passed (and Lucius noticed he was awake) the father did speak. Softly. "Wake up." The command was simple, but his tone seemed almost impatient. The boy groaned and did as he was told, sitting up slowly and letting the covers fall off of his bare chest. It was summer, and too hot to wear much to bed.
His father seemed to enjoy the sight, but Draco wasn't able to tell. It was too dark to see his face.
The younger Malfoy felt the bed shift, and watched his father's form moved across the bed. Even though Draco tried not to show it, he was afraid. He was always afraid when Lucius came into his room. Hell, he was afraid to just be in the same house as him. He didn't speak, afraid his voice would break, and leaned back against the headrest, just waiting for it to be over before it started.
Lucius didn't seem to be in much of a hurry, himself. He never was. His father had longer hair than him that was normally tied back, but now it was loose over his shoulders. For some reason, Draco was always reminded of some sort of Egyptian pharaoh with both his looks and dominant nature. And his cruelty. The older man's hair tickled his chest as his father leaned over, only inches from his face. He suppressed a shiver as he felt the other's cold and slightly moist hands on his bare skin. He had been drinking. He could smell it in the man's breath. He hated Lucius' mood swings when he was drunk. He could go from being uncharacteristically gentle hearted to being a savage blood thirsty sadist.
"Father . . ." Draco's whisper rang in his own ears in the silence of the room. His father grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed him against the headboard of the bed. It was times like this he was regretting wearing only boxers to bed. His father was wearing his normal night robes, which consisted of silk that others would want to wear during the day if they had the chance. Lucius always had to look his best, even in his sleep.
Draco felt his father straddle his waist slowly, and the pressure made him groan. His once open eyes slipped closed, and he tilted his head to the side. If he ever watched anything but the inside of his eyelids during these rendezvous, he would be physically and mentally sick. It did things to you when your father sexually abused you. Still, the younger blonde knew not to argue, beg, or try and tell someone about his evil father. Who would believe him, when Lucius was a well known "fine" man of the Ministry.
Besides, Lucius had so much money he could bribe his way out, and then chain Draco to the cellar like a rabid animal. He feared such a thing, and that was what made him quiet.
His father's cold hands took their time in touching him, and as always his body betrayed him. With the combination of his father on his lower region, and the hands caressing his sides, he was always caught somewhere he didn't want to be. Aroused in front of his father. Damn his lower organ for being so sensitive to pressure, otherwise this would never happen.
Lucius leaned down and talked into the other's ear as he continued to rock his hips slowly over Draco. "Stop pretending . . ." he whispered, "I know you love this." The word love nearly sent poor Draco into shock, and he turned his head away from his father's lips as they pressed against his ear. He wanted to say "no" for once, and have a backbone around his father, but he couldn't. He was afraid.
His father seemed disappointed in the way he turned his head, and seemed to forget about foreplay altogether. His face fell, and his cold hands left Draco to pull off the covers. Now the boy was exposed in front of him, with only goose bumps and boxers which felt rather tight now. The only word he could whisper without getting cursed or tortured for the rest of the night while this happened was simply, "Father . . ."
-][-
"Draco."
He felt a hand on his cheek, and was jolted sharply out of his memory. His silver eyes focused on worried black ones straight ahead of him. "Draco," Severus repeated, "are you alright?" Apparently Draco had completely ignored the rest of what Severus had said after he fell into a flashback. A bad flashback. The hand on his cheek slowly moved down, and before it left he was able to feel something wet on it. A tear . . . his tear! He was now utterly embarrassed, and raised a hand to his eyes. "Sorry." he whispered, his head bowing down a little. He always apologized after being caught crying. A habit he was left from his father.
Severus seemed taken aback at the apology and knelt down in front of him on the floor. He was silent, and Draco figured he was still waiting for an answer. "Oh. Yes, I'm alright," he lied. His tears betrayed him, and Severus knew it. The professor stood up and instead of sitting back on the recliner, sat down on the couch next to Draco. He put a hand on his shoulder in a comforting way, and rubbed it lightly. Why was he being so nice to this student? Not just because he was Slytherin, but for two reasons. Because Draco seemed to remind him of himself when he was in Hogwarts, and Severus knew Lucius too well. And he was just the kind of twisted man to corrupt his only son.
Draco's shoulder seemed to tense under Severus' touch, but it could just have been because he was afraid of being touched by older men now. In fact, that was the most likely scenario. The potions master withdrew his hand and instead watched the boy next to him closely. "I think perhaps it's time for you to head back to your dormitory."
This made the blonde next to him a little relieved, but morose at the same time. He didn't want to leave the comfort of the warm fire lit room, and yet he still felt uncomfortable around his professor. It was somewhat nice though, to have an older man care about him. All the other men he had met in his life he either hated, or were disrespectful and rude to him. Of course, Draco was probably rude first, but it was just a defense mechanism. He couldn't be blamed.
"Yes, professor." Draco stood up slowly from the couch and looked down at Severus, smiling a little. "Thank you, sir." He turned to the door and his smile faded as quickly as he was out of the other's vision. He didn't exactly know why he had said thank you, but just thought it would be nice to thank the other for his time. He rubbed the side of his arm and made for the door, when the other's voice sounded again.
"Although, if you wish, you could stay here if you don't feel comfortable going back to the Slytherin tower."
Draco felt black eyes on the back of his neck as he stopped by the doorway and rested a hand on the wall, looking down on the floor. His chest seemed to freeze as he heard the suggestion, and turned around. His eyes seemed to search for a reason why the professor had suggested to allow him to stay, but he could find none. And truthfully, he couldn't find a reason to deny the offer. True, he was scared of having an older man nearby while he was sleeping, but he knew Severus wouldn't hurt him.
A smile graced his lips. A little, genuine one. "Yes . . . Thank you, sir."
_________________________
TBC
A/N: Yeah, this chapter took forever simply because I'm having problems in school e.e Anyway, here it is so...enjoy. This chapter is a bit more graphic, but nothing extreme.
Chapter IV
The first thing that came to his mind as he entered the room, was that his professor had used his first name. It actually startled him to some extent.
The room was actually warmer than he had expected. Almost comforting, compared to the frigid hallways. It had a nice, inviting atmosphere to it. As Draco looked around the room, he noticed a glass of wine on the table near the fire, and he raised an eyebrow. Well that was something new; he didn't think his professor was one for liquor. Wonders never ceased.
Draco merely stood in the doorway, looking down at the floor as he was invited in. He heard the door close behind him and didn't bother to turn around, or even raise his vision for that matter. Living with Lucius had taught the young Malfoy not to be 'disrespectful', and in this case, if he looked up at his professor he would be just that.
So, he occupied himself by staring at the floor and his shoes while Severus walked around him. Great, less than five minutes in and already he was starting to feel awkward. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Draco raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. What was he supposed to do? Gathering his nerves and self confidence together, he finally cleared his throat to the professor standing before him.
"Sorry to bother you so late at night, Professor," he started, moving his hand back down to his side and subconsciously placing it in his robes pocket, "but . . . well, you said I could come by if I . . . wanted to talk." At this, he raised his head to look up at his Head of House, whom he was expecting to have an impatient expression. But he didn't.
No, instead he looked different. It was interesting . . . He seemed rather, un-Snape like. His black eyes weren't cold and hollow, and his face wasn't hard and emotionless. This puzzled Draco, and he simply looked up at the man as he waited for an answer. However, none came immediately, and this added to the Malfoy's discomfort. "Sir..?"
"It's not late, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said simply, not adding onto that as he moved away from the blonde to the direction of where he was most likely sitting before Draco had interrupted. Not sure whether to follow or not, he remained in front of the closed door with his hands still in his robe pockets. Already, he could tell this would be a hard night.
Obviously Severus had caught Draco's nervousness, and the professor sat back down in his recliner. "Don't just stand in the doorway, Mr. Malfoy, come sit down." He picked up his glass of wine and held it in his hand in front of him as he watched the fire. At least he hadn't used his rude commands he usually barked at students who came into his office late at night for detentions. Of course, this wasn't his office, and neither was it detention.
Respectfully doing as he was told, Draco sat down on the couch near the recliner, sitting near the arm of the furniture so he could lean against it slightly. Being here suddenly made him awfully tired. He resisted the urge to yawn or press a hand against his eyes as he too watched the fire as it danced merrily. Just about the only light in the room, it was.
This time, Draco didn't have to break the silence, as Severus did it for him. "I'm sure you must be slightly surprised to have me offer you my counsel," he started, swishing the red wine in his glass slightly and setting it down on the table with a soft clink, "but I know something isn't right, Mr. Malfoy. Your grades have been slipping, not too considerably mind you, and I've found you not to be paying attention in my class." So much for the casual approach.
At his words, Draco drew his eyes away from the fire to the opposite side of the room, almost as if he was embarrassed to look at the same fire Severus was. He knew this was true. And he shouldn't have been so surprised to hear it spoken.
"I know, Sir." That was all he could bring himself to say. The last couple of weeks had been hard on him, after all, so why wouldn't his teachers notice? Especially his head of house. He raised a hand to rub the back of his neck uneasily. He knew Severus was watching him, and the silence that followed made goose bumps spread over his skin. Oh, how much Draco hated awkward silences . . .
And this one seemed to last forever. Draco shifted his position a few times on the couch before looking up at Severus to see he actually wasn't being watched. Instead, the Professor was looking at the fireplace, seeming to be in his own world of thoughts. An uneasy feeling had long since settled in his stomach, and he was starting to feel a little nauseated. Why did he feel so uncomfortable? He had been in the same position with his father before, and he had gotten used to the tenseness as it hung in the quiet air.
Again the Professor spoke, but it seemed more hushed this time. "Mr. Malfoy . . . I'm not trying to meddle in your personal affairs," he paused to turn towards Draco, his dark eyes appearing darker. "But I don't want to see you fall behind, either." These words seemed to strike something in Draco, and the blonde looked down at the rug. Fall behind? He didn't . . . he couldn't afford to.
His eyes fell to the ground, and his thoughts began to wander.
~][~
Draco's uneasy sleep was disturbed by a sudden added weight at the foot of his bed. It couldn't have been earlier than two o'clock in the morning. Whenever the young blond felt that added weight at his bed, he knew silver eyes which he inherited were watching him as he slept. It made him uneasy, and sometimes physically sick. He absolutely hated his father's presence, and that was who it always was who sat at the foot of the bed.
He didn't want to, but he opened his eyes anyway. They were already adjusted to the darkness of the room, and he could see the older man's silhouette perfectly. A cold shiver spread over his skin from being jolted from his unconscious state to see a haunting figure leering over him in the middle of the night. It was like a horror movie, just before the main character got his head cut off.
Draco didn't speak, and neither did his father for a while. After a minute passed (and Lucius noticed he was awake) the father did speak. Softly. "Wake up." The command was simple, but his tone seemed almost impatient. The boy groaned and did as he was told, sitting up slowly and letting the covers fall off of his bare chest. It was summer, and too hot to wear much to bed.
His father seemed to enjoy the sight, but Draco wasn't able to tell. It was too dark to see his face.
The younger Malfoy felt the bed shift, and watched his father's form moved across the bed. Even though Draco tried not to show it, he was afraid. He was always afraid when Lucius came into his room. Hell, he was afraid to just be in the same house as him. He didn't speak, afraid his voice would break, and leaned back against the headrest, just waiting for it to be over before it started.
Lucius didn't seem to be in much of a hurry, himself. He never was. His father had longer hair than him that was normally tied back, but now it was loose over his shoulders. For some reason, Draco was always reminded of some sort of Egyptian pharaoh with both his looks and dominant nature. And his cruelty. The older man's hair tickled his chest as his father leaned over, only inches from his face. He suppressed a shiver as he felt the other's cold and slightly moist hands on his bare skin. He had been drinking. He could smell it in the man's breath. He hated Lucius' mood swings when he was drunk. He could go from being uncharacteristically gentle hearted to being a savage blood thirsty sadist.
"Father . . ." Draco's whisper rang in his own ears in the silence of the room. His father grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed him against the headboard of the bed. It was times like this he was regretting wearing only boxers to bed. His father was wearing his normal night robes, which consisted of silk that others would want to wear during the day if they had the chance. Lucius always had to look his best, even in his sleep.
Draco felt his father straddle his waist slowly, and the pressure made him groan. His once open eyes slipped closed, and he tilted his head to the side. If he ever watched anything but the inside of his eyelids during these rendezvous, he would be physically and mentally sick. It did things to you when your father sexually abused you. Still, the younger blonde knew not to argue, beg, or try and tell someone about his evil father. Who would believe him, when Lucius was a well known "fine" man of the Ministry.
Besides, Lucius had so much money he could bribe his way out, and then chain Draco to the cellar like a rabid animal. He feared such a thing, and that was what made him quiet.
His father's cold hands took their time in touching him, and as always his body betrayed him. With the combination of his father on his lower region, and the hands caressing his sides, he was always caught somewhere he didn't want to be. Aroused in front of his father. Damn his lower organ for being so sensitive to pressure, otherwise this would never happen.
Lucius leaned down and talked into the other's ear as he continued to rock his hips slowly over Draco. "Stop pretending . . ." he whispered, "I know you love this." The word love nearly sent poor Draco into shock, and he turned his head away from his father's lips as they pressed against his ear. He wanted to say "no" for once, and have a backbone around his father, but he couldn't. He was afraid.
His father seemed disappointed in the way he turned his head, and seemed to forget about foreplay altogether. His face fell, and his cold hands left Draco to pull off the covers. Now the boy was exposed in front of him, with only goose bumps and boxers which felt rather tight now. The only word he could whisper without getting cursed or tortured for the rest of the night while this happened was simply, "Father . . ."
-][-
"Draco."
He felt a hand on his cheek, and was jolted sharply out of his memory. His silver eyes focused on worried black ones straight ahead of him. "Draco," Severus repeated, "are you alright?" Apparently Draco had completely ignored the rest of what Severus had said after he fell into a flashback. A bad flashback. The hand on his cheek slowly moved down, and before it left he was able to feel something wet on it. A tear . . . his tear! He was now utterly embarrassed, and raised a hand to his eyes. "Sorry." he whispered, his head bowing down a little. He always apologized after being caught crying. A habit he was left from his father.
Severus seemed taken aback at the apology and knelt down in front of him on the floor. He was silent, and Draco figured he was still waiting for an answer. "Oh. Yes, I'm alright," he lied. His tears betrayed him, and Severus knew it. The professor stood up and instead of sitting back on the recliner, sat down on the couch next to Draco. He put a hand on his shoulder in a comforting way, and rubbed it lightly. Why was he being so nice to this student? Not just because he was Slytherin, but for two reasons. Because Draco seemed to remind him of himself when he was in Hogwarts, and Severus knew Lucius too well. And he was just the kind of twisted man to corrupt his only son.
Draco's shoulder seemed to tense under Severus' touch, but it could just have been because he was afraid of being touched by older men now. In fact, that was the most likely scenario. The potions master withdrew his hand and instead watched the boy next to him closely. "I think perhaps it's time for you to head back to your dormitory."
This made the blonde next to him a little relieved, but morose at the same time. He didn't want to leave the comfort of the warm fire lit room, and yet he still felt uncomfortable around his professor. It was somewhat nice though, to have an older man care about him. All the other men he had met in his life he either hated, or were disrespectful and rude to him. Of course, Draco was probably rude first, but it was just a defense mechanism. He couldn't be blamed.
"Yes, professor." Draco stood up slowly from the couch and looked down at Severus, smiling a little. "Thank you, sir." He turned to the door and his smile faded as quickly as he was out of the other's vision. He didn't exactly know why he had said thank you, but just thought it would be nice to thank the other for his time. He rubbed the side of his arm and made for the door, when the other's voice sounded again.
"Although, if you wish, you could stay here if you don't feel comfortable going back to the Slytherin tower."
Draco felt black eyes on the back of his neck as he stopped by the doorway and rested a hand on the wall, looking down on the floor. His chest seemed to freeze as he heard the suggestion, and turned around. His eyes seemed to search for a reason why the professor had suggested to allow him to stay, but he could find none. And truthfully, he couldn't find a reason to deny the offer. True, he was scared of having an older man nearby while he was sleeping, but he knew Severus wouldn't hurt him.
A smile graced his lips. A little, genuine one. "Yes . . . Thank you, sir."
_________________________
TBC