A/N: And yet another chapter from my dark and twisted mind! Enjoy! And a great big thanks complete with hug for Chelsea Frog for her review!
((Yeah, yeah, we all should know by now that I am not the Master of Harry Potter))
Chapter Three
Unanticipated Visitor
That night I slept on the couch in our –my- living room. I didn't have the energy to crawl upstairs to my own bed. The first week alone I don't know what kept me from jumping off my third story window. Sheer willpower, I suppose. The kind the made me want to prove to the world that I could live on my own. Soon, though, I began to worry about the future. I had no source of income, save the hundreds upon thousands of Galleons in my family's vault. That would soon run out, however, and I would have nothing. I had collected seven O.W.L s in my fifth year, but only one N.E.W.T. I had no plan of action for my future. This sent me in a deeper spiral, imagining life on the streets, my pride damaged beyond all repair as I scrimped and saved what little I could.
I shook that thought out of my head. I had plenty of gold to keep me comfortable for at least five years or so. By then I knew I would have a job. But the thought kept plaguing me for the next few weeks.
At the beginning of my first full month at home, I received a knock at my door. The house elves had already answered it by the time I trudged downstairs. A pair of beady dark eyes peered at me through long, black locks. I didn't know at that moment, when the thought of my plight was in full force, that the man before me would have the answer.
"Hello Professor Snape," I said, disappointed. I don't know who I was expecting to show up. My father maybe. I really didn't know how to react if his calculating eyes were resting on me instead of Snape's. I wasn't angry with him, no. Nor was I happy, either. I just felt that, if he returned, that things could return to normal. That the simplicity of my life would return. I could go on with my life hating the Weasley's for their Muggle loving. And I could continue to antagonize Hermione with talks of being a Mudblood and a Muggle-born. However, inside, I knew that wouldn't be possible. I knew that I could never return to that life. It was but a fleeing memory, along with my father. I could no longer remember his face, his scent, his harsh voice. To me, though, he was my past. The life that I knew, that I could predict. But instead of my past showing up, it seemed my future was.
"Draco, it has come to my attention that your father has yet to return, leaving you in full possession of his assets and no way to gain income. Your poor achievements in the classroom can be explained away to the Headmaster, but not to anyone wishing to hire you."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Snape continued on in a tone that I had come to fear very well.
"But that may not be a problem, should you not work for anyone. Instead, I suggest that you take advantage of the closing of a certain apothecary in Diagon Alley. If nothing else, you do seem to show a knack for Potions, hence the reason for your single N.E.W.T. I can start you off with a supply of my own basic potions, but you must make the rest from there."
Snape handed me a piece of fine parchment, signed by both Snape and someone with handwriting so loopy I couldn't decipher it.
"What is this?" I asked, taking the parchment in front of me. Snape sneered.
"Don't tell me that you spent seven years in my classroom and you can't read."
I cursed myself for even asking. I knew he would come up with some answer like that. Looking at the parchment, I realized that it was some sort of contract. Reading further, I learned that Snape had purchased the shop, temporarily. In the wizarding world at least, I had to wait until my eighteenth birthday before the shop actually became mine. Until my birthday, only a week away, Snape owned the shop.
I was actually grateful for the help, the convenient end to my personal battle. But there was also a part of me, a small part of my past, which was insulted. I fought that part down, knowing that Snape would take away everything that he had just handed to me without thinking. He cared nothing for my pride and would do anything to prove to himself, through me, that my father did not scare him. If that meant leaving me to myself, then so be it.
Needless to say I was not willing to take that chance. I didn't let my arrogance get in the way of what I needed any more.
"Thank you, Sir. I will see to the shop in the morning."
Snape seemed to be as surprised with my answer and tone as I was. He blinked once and then quickly regained his composure.
"See that you do. And one other thing, Draco. The Ministry is very curious to find out what made the Dark Lord so powerful. The first thing that they will explore would be his magical artifacts. I know for a fact that your father owns most of these and hides them in a hidden room in this house. I also know that the Ministry is offering a large sum of money for anyone with certain Dark objects. Perhaps you might be willing to aid them?"
Without waiting for a response, Snape nodded once, his duty done. He exited out the door he came in. I was used to his sudden appearances and even more sudden disappearances, but this one left me more confused than when he had entered. I figured that the best thing to do would be to sleep on it, find the shop in the morning, and see what needed to be done. I knew a great opportunity was on my hands in running a shop, but I had no head for business. There was one person who could help me, but, either my damned stubbornness, or my thoughts that she would be too busy, kept me from sending an owl to Hermione.
I gave no thought to Snape's last words. Giving away my father's things seemed like too much right now. My loyalties were with no one person, only to what I now believed was right. However, I didn't want to lose one of the last links I had with my father. If I gave away his things, it would be like admitting that what he did his whole life was evil. Subsequently, making me evil. And that was something that I was not ready to face.
So I continued on with that day with a little more hope for the future. That night, I finally did make it up the three flights of stairs to my room, the familiarity of it all calming me.
