Chapter 18: Uncle Aloysius
About halfway there, Draco saw James Potter emerge from the shadows. "What happened?" he asked Draco when he saw Severus in his unconscious state.
"It's a long story," Draco sighed. All of his anger just leaked out of his system as he exhaled. Dumbledore looked behind him and saw that James was at Draco's side. "I'll tell you later."
"Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore's grave voice. "I am afraid that I must suggest to you very strongly to retire to Gryffindor Tower. Matters here are most severe, and I'm afraid I won't be able to speak with you at all this evening."
"Sure, Professor Dumbledore," James answered. He nodded to Draco and rushed away. Draco was quite certain that he was running the miracle mile back to Gryffindor Tower to tell his chums all about Severus' condition.
"Here, let us get him into bed... Poor child..." Madame Pomfrey fretted. Draco nearly snickered. If she knew half of the stuff Severus did with himself, and other female partners, in his spare time, she'd never call him "poor child." Although, in his stupor, Severus almost did look innocent.
"And yourself, young man!" Madame Pomfrey turned on Draco. Draco began sputtering about how he was just fine and that he had to leave now.
"You are not going anywhere, Mr. Malfoy. You are taking the sleeping potion that Poppy gives you and you are taking a nice long nap while Professors Colton, Foxworth and I decide what we are going to do with you." Draco gaped; he'd never heard Dumbledore take such a firm tone with anyone in his entire career at Hogwarts! He was about to protest how he hadn't done anything wrong this time, but he shut his mouth as soon as he registered that Dumbledore was not hearing anything he had to say. So, he sat on the bed next to Severus, looked at the potion that Madame Pomfrey offered him, and quipped, "As long as its Madame Pomfrey's concoction..." and downed the contents of the bottle. Draco managed to stay awake long enough to see Colton's unreadable look before he drowned in the darkness of sleep.
"This is unbelievable! Twice in one year! Twice, Dumbledore! How is he supposed to take his O.W.L. tests if he's in a coma?" Draco heard these words in his dreams. "I'm telling you, if he doesn't pass them because of this, I'm transferring him to Durmstrang! I don't care how far away it is, or how much it's going to cost me to send him there, but I will not tolerate this!" Draco thought for a wild second that it was his father. He'd threatened the Hogwarts school board numerous times that he would take his son out and send him to Durmstrang instead.
But he couldn't go to Durmstrang; he had important things to do at Hogwarts! Draco struggled through the depths of sleep to reach the light and find his father and talk to him. He even managed to open his eyes.
He blinked. "Professor Snape?" he asked fuzzily. The man hovering over the bed next to his certainly looked like Professor Snape. Only, it couldn't be Professor Snape, because this man had snow-white hair framing his face. For his part, the man looked quite amused.
"Harrumph! They wouldn't catch me dead teaching in this place, boy! What did you people give him?" the man asked Dumbledore. Draco sat up; he immediately didn't like this man one bit. Judging from Dumbledore's expression, it was apparent that he didn't like the man any more than Draco did. And then, Draco figured it out. That man must be Severus' much maligned uncle. From what little he'd seen of him he could understand why he was much-maligned.
"Just a sleeping potion, for the time being. It should have been working much better than it apparently is, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore sighed. He sounded weary.
"Listening to him bawling you out woke me up," Draco reported. "And of course, the irony of this is not missed. Since when do you care the least whit about Severus Snape?" he snapped at Uncle Aloysius.
The man gave a very Snape-like scowl to Draco. "And what is it to you?" he sneered.
"I'm Draco Malfoy. I'm Sev's friend. And before you ask, no, we are not shagging eachother," Draco added. Dumbledore gaped, but Aloysius simply raised an eyebrow.
After an amused expression formed on his face, Aloysius retorted, "No, Sev likes to stick his cock into something warm. See how well I know him? Who else knows such a thing about him? Only someone who cares, Malfoy." His nostrils flared as Draco huffed and sat back into his bed.
Dumbledore finally spoke up. "Aloysius, I am sure that you are already finding that holding Severus' hand is getting quite boring to you. I therefore strongly suggest that you leave here, and allow Mr. Malfoy to continue his recuperation. I assure you that you will be the very first to know if there is any change in Severus' condition."
"Madame Pomfrey, I need more sleeping potion," Draco called to her. If there was anyone who could shoo someone out of the hospital wing, it was her. And sure enough, just as she arrived with another dose of the potion, Aloysius attempted to stand his ground, but one look from Madam Pomfrey's determined eyes made him retreat.
"I warn you Dumbledore! He'd better be awake to take those tests!" Satisfied that he had the last word, he stalked off.
"Damn," Draco muttered as he watched Madame Pomfrey leave his bedside again. "Sev had told me some things, but I had no idea that his uncle could act like such a dick..."
Dumbledore sighed again. "Aloysius is...difficult to deal with sometimes, I admit it. By the way, young man, I believe we need to have a small talk about your language..."
Draco's eyebrows rose. "Oh! You're right! I've been completely vulgar in my words, haven't I?" He grinned. "Ahem, let me rephrase that. Severus has told me some things, but I was unaware that his uncle could behave like such a penis..."
Dumbledore tried to supress a laugh, and failed. "Ah, I see that your activities of today have not done one thing to your skewed sense of humor. But I think it is high time that you drank that potion, Mr. Malfoy."
"Yes, Sir," Draco sighed, and tipped back the vial's contents into his mouth. "How long is he going to be like that?"
"If he did what we think he did, a couple of weeks. He did something that usually requires a great deal of training and control. He thought that he was healing Professor Colton's health problem. What he was actually doing was quite different. Very soon, I promise to explain it more to you. When he awakens, you both will be brought up to speed. Now, put all of your questions out of your mind."
Draco couldn't supress a yawn as the potion kicked in. "Yeah..." he drawled, then fell asleep again.
Draco was released the next day, and he had to fend off the teeming masses of questions being shot at him from every direction. His fellow Slytherins were the first ones to barrage him, but they were certainly not the last. Even Drucilla managed to talk to him.
She caught up with him in the corridor on the way outside to yet another Quidditch practice. "You've been making yourself very scarce," she complained.
"I really didn't mean to, and I'm really sorry. But just as soon thought that you were so pissed with me for what happened at the Three Broomsticks..." Draco stammered.
Drucilla tossed her head back and huffed, "You mean what didn't happened at the Three Broomsticks..."
"Listen, I know I stood you up but I didn't mean to, really. An emergency came up. You know I was in Dumbledore's office the rest of the day, don't you?"
"There are so many rumors going around..." Drucilla frowned. "But I try not to listen to rumors. I know firsthand how lousy your life can get because of rumors..."
"How about we talk it over tonight at dinner?" Draco suggested.
"Alright. After all, your usual dinner partner is in a coma after all. I suppose you could use some company," Dru quipped.
"Now Dru, what were you just preaching about rumors?" Draco reminded her.
Drucilla snorted. "Please! You don't think I believe that shit that Lestrange has been spreading about you and Severus? Now, I'm not sure what he's told you, but let's just say that I personally know his reputation among the female population of this school. Most of them are just as doubtful as I am about yours and his 'relationship.' I mean, even Lily doesn't believe it, and she hates Sev."
"Well, just because she hates him doesn't mean she'd automatically think he's a..." Draco laughed suddenly. "She really hates him?"
"For good reason," Drucilla nodded. Draco sighed. "She's not all that interested in any guys here, and I think it's all Sev's fault. He ought to make it up to her, somehow..." Drucilla frowned.
"You're absolutely right, Dru. He should make it up to her!" Draco agreed. "I think it would be highly entertaining to see him groveling at Lily's feet for forgiveness..."
"I like that in a man," Drucilla grinned. "'You're absolutely right, Dru!' Ah, so refreshing," Drucilla joked. "But I don't think it'll ever happen."
"You know what they say, Dru? 'Never say never.' After all, would I have ever thought that I would wind up time travelling 20 years into the past?" Draco asked.
"I've heard that you don't talk about the times during which you lived. Are you afraid?" Dru asked.
Draco didn't know what to say. "Well," he began, "I am worried that I already have changed things."
"So, then why worry?" Drucilla pointed out, "Since you've already changed some things, maybe you were meant to be here. Maybe even for good."
That's what Professor Dumbledore had said to him when he arrived. But he still wasn't all that sure he was making the changes he was supposed to be making. He hated this lack of control over his life. "You know, let's talk about that later, over dinner. I supposed Andi and Lily will be joining us?"
"No way!" Drucilla spat. "They are going to the Gryffindor table. We'll go to the Slytherin table. I'm not afraid!" she declared. At that, they parted ways.
Later in the day, Draco went up to the hospital wing to see Severus. Unfortuantely, Severus already had visitors. His infernal uncle was back, and to his right was a man Draco had seen pictures of in the past. He was the Minister of Magic, before Cornelius Fudge's time. Dumbledore had a pale, worn out expression on his face. and Madame Pomfrey was wiping a tear from her eyes.
Draco's stomach twisted. "What's going on?" he demanded. Both Aloysius and the Minister of Magic looked up.
"The Ministry has business here. Are you a friend of young Mr. Snape's?" the minister asked.
Draco looked at Severus. He was in a peaceful state, completely unaware of his surroundings. "Wait, what's that thing around his neck?" Draco asked suddenly. For indeed, there was a golden band, roughly an inch thick, around Severus' neck. It didn't even look like it had a clasp to remove it.
Aloysius looked at Draco. "That, Malfoy, is something that a Snape has not worn in over a thousand years. Who would have thought that the family trait would finally surface after a millenium!" He sounded very proud of this. Dumbledore, however, looked rather grim.
"Not every Breaker has been a Snape, Aloysius," the Minister reminded him.
"No, and not every Snape has been a Breaker, obviously. But the trait had run strong in the Snape family. I thought that the old blood was wearing precariously thin, until now. It does my heart good, it really does," he crowed.
"What are you talking about?" Draco asked.
He was rather ignored as the Minister spoke. "He will need to get trained up as soon as possible."
"But who will be able to do that?" Dumbledore asked.
"Alastor Moody will be the best choice, I believe," the Minister answered.
Dumbledore snorted. "Alastor, as old as he is, is still way too young to have remembered the last Breaker. As you will recall, the very last one died over four hundred years ago."
"Well," Aloysius cut in, "what about your friend, Nicholas Flamel? He's certainly old enough to remember the last Breaker!"
"Nicholas never had any dealings with a Breaker, Aloysius. He's an alchemist, not a criminal. I don't even think he knew the last Breaker," Dumbledore retorted.
"Gentlemen, please!" the Minister protested. "Alastor Moody has done extensive research on the subject. For a while, when he was young, it was thought that he might possibly have been one himself. He wasn't, however, but I do think that he will be able to guide this young man into using the Talent..."
"Talent, indeed!" Dumbledore huffed. "Dangerous skill, is more like it."
"What are you talking about?" Draco asked again.
Dumbledore answered this. "Draco, do you know what a Dementor is?"
"Yes..." he answered slowly, thinking back to the time when a Dementor roamed around the Hogwart's Express looking for Sirius Black. And the times when they were guarding the school, thinking that the escaped convict would come after Harry Potter. "They're awful."
"Indeed, the creatures drain energy from those living things around them, until there is no hope left in the individual. Prolonged contact with a Dementor can inhibit a wizard's ability to use magic, you know." Dumbledore looked at Severus laying there before him, and frowned even more.
"What does that have to do with Severus?" Draco demanded.
"The Dementors are used to guard Azkaban. They are the only ones who can keep people from apparating in and out of there, or causing other mayhem and mischief with their powers. They have had to be used since the last Breaker had died, and there appeared to be no hope of the Talent ever resurfacing again," the Minister further explained.
"But now, they have Severus Snape," Aloysius declared, "so they don't need Dementors any longer to control the prisoners of Azkaban."
Draco was getting a feeling that he knew the answer to this one, but he felt the need to say ask anyway. "Why is that?"
"Because, silly boy," Aloysius sneered, "my nephew is a Breaker, a wizard who can cut off anyone else's ability to use magic."