Warning: Violence, sex, language, more violence, even more language...
A/N: I don't own a damn thing..
Summary: Surprise surprise! Draco weaseled his way out of expulsion!! Unfortunately for him, he has no idea how it happened. Something tells me that a tall, dark and brooding professor may have some answers - read on.
Side note: Many thanks go out to my readers! You guys are brilliant! Thanks so much! *big hug to Frannie*
~*~
"Mione! Look! They're on the move!" Ron was having a difficult time keeping his voice down.
"It's just Snape and Malfoy," Hermione deliberately lowered her voice in an attempt to get Ron to follow, "If he's expelled, why isn't Dumbledore with him?" Her finger pointed to the stationary dot that was their beloved Headmaster.
"You know Dumbledore, he's prolly just letting that git spend one last night at Hogwarts." Hermione could easily make out the young boy's grin in the moonlight. "And I for one am thankful he did! Can't wait to see his face at breakfast!"
"We don't know anything yet, Ron. He may not have been expelled at all." Hermione knew that Ron wouldn't buy it, but she still had to make an effort to be logical.
"Bullocks!" Ron's fingers violently bounced around Snape and Malfoy, who were slowly making their way back to the dungeons. "If I had just escaped an expulsion, there's no WAY I'd be walking that slow!"
"Ron! If you rip a hole in that map-" Hermione hissed as she scolded him. "Harry'll kill you!"
A dumb grin spread across Ron's face. "Not to worry, 'Mione. I've got you with me, after all."
Hermione desperately hoped the blackened room would hide the blood that was racing to her face - for she was sure that she resembled a beet just then. "You - you really think I could fix it?"
"Not really, no." The grin got a bit wider. "But you would distract Harry just long enough for me to run awayOW!!"
For once in her life, Hermione didn't really care how much noise Ron made, as she was positive that her fist hitting his skull would be louder.
~*~
Draco made his way down the stairs from Dumbledore's office, each step he took heavier than the first. The last half hour was a blur. The only thing he knew for certain was that he wasn't expelled. Just HOW he wasn't expelled still eluded him, but he had his suspicions. Draco didn't dare turn around; for fear that he might be called back up again.
Professor Snape walked along behind him, not making a sound. They descended the staircase together in silence. Not the same foreboding silence that had rung in his ears on their earlier ascent - but silence all the same. As if a storm had just blown over. Only when they were a safe distance from Dumbledore's office did Draco dare to speak.
"Professor-" Still not making eye contact, Draco tried to find the words that had been piling up in his head. He had no intention of giving himself away, but he had a feeling that Snape already knew his guilt. "That spell- "
"-was not yours." Snape finished for him. And it appeared that it was all he was going to say. Draco nodded, and kept walking. So they walked together; a knowing silence between them. They had made their way to the dungeons when Snape spoke up.
"You will be spending your detention with me. Every night, after dinner, for a month-"
Draco opened his mouth to speak - whether in protest or in acknowledgement we'll never know - for Snape cut him off too quickly. The "seemingly calm" professor wheeled around till he was only centimeters from Draco's face.
"Not...A...Word. " The few strands of hair that had fallen in his face made him look like a caged animal. The fact that he was speaking through clenched teeth didn't help, either.
"You've already fallen once today Mr. Malfoy - I do not plan on being there to pick you up again." Snape held his gaze for a moment, making it alarmingly clear that this had been a one time deal, and that any talk of it afterwards would be suicide.
Sure that his point had been taken, Professor Snape slowly turned on his heel and walked away. Leaving Malfoy alone in the dungeon to catch his breath.
~*~
Harry tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Well, not his bed per- say. The Infirmary's cots were a far cry from his Gryffindor bed, but they were always comfortable enough in the past. But not tonight. The bruise that was forming on his stomach alarmed him - alarmed him enough to not want to go back to sleep. Not till he had figured out some answers.
The sharp pain in his belly reminded him of how little he actually knew about the amulet. What it could do. How powerful it was. The little bits of information he had were vague to say the least. Professor Trelawney never was a stickler for details. It didn't help that she had been half asleep when she gave it to him.
He briefly considered asking her for more information, but quickly rejected the idea. He had been in possession of the amulet for a couple of days now - soon she'd be asking for it back. If she even remembered giving it to him in the first place. Besides, he had unfinished business with a certain blonde who had proved - difficult.
"No. I can't give it back. Not yet."
The thought of losing *his* amulet so quick into the game made him sick to his stomach. It was the answer to all of his desperate prayers. He felt alive when he used it - more alive than he'd felt in a really, really, REALLY long time. He wasn't about to give it back. Not soon, anyhow. *Or ever*
Harry shook his head in an attempt to forget, and an immediate headache followed. Malfoy's little "parting gift" in the form of a kick to the head was starting to make itself known. The right side of his face was starting to swell, and he was sure a bruise would be visible by morning. The bruise on his stomach would be easy enough to hide - but a footprint on his face? That would take some explaining.
The fall he had taken during dinner should suffice as a cover, but only if Madam Pomfrey was feeling gullible. He'd just have to wait and see.
Harry rolled over onto his side; making sure his "good side" was visible to Madam Pomfrey if she decided to make a late-night round. His thoughts drifted back to the amulet, which had made it's home under his pillow. He slid his hand beneath him and felt for it. 'Just making sure.' It was still there. But his hand did not pull away. He laid there, his fingers memorizing every twist the metal took, every link in the chain - it was comforting.
But it was alarming at the same time. He hadn't considered the possibility that he could be hurt in the dream realm. It hadn't even crossed his mind till - well, till he already was. The "what if's" started seeping in, casting doubts and fears over his *precious* God-sent. But Harry quickly dismissed them. He was too tired to worry anymore that night.
He felt his fingers wrap around the chain, but resisted the urge to put it on. He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to feel alive again - but the pain in his stomach spoke more truth than his desires. And luckily, he was coherent enough to listen.
'The Library. I'll go to the Library tomorrow.' He'd try to find his answers there. Meantime, get some sleep.
Harry glanced at the clock in the Infirmary.
4:03
~*~
Severus Snape tried his best to keep calm. And while his exterior kept up the façade, his stomach knew full well the extents of what he had just done. Only when he was in the safety of his quarters did he finally unclench his fists.
Taking solid steps, as to convince himself he was steady, Severus made his way to the cabinet, opened it and searched for the only thing that would give him solace. An illegally imported bottle of Albanian Fire Whiskey found its way into his hands. He poured himself a glass, downed it, and began to pour another as he sat by the fireplace. The fire that burned in his throat calmed his mind - providing a brief moment of clarity - enough for him to realize what had just happened.
He had willfully "altered" evidence - evidence that would have proved a certain young Slytherin's guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt. He had broken almost every rule a Professor at Hogwarts was sworn to uphold. And what was worse, he had lied to the one man who ever trusted him.
He had risked his job, and in turn, his life, for what? For keeping his prize pupil away from certain expulsion. It seemed so trivial when it was put like that. But he knew better. It wasn't the expulsion, or the shame it would've put on Draco's family that forced Severus to go against his better judgment. It was much more complex than simple answers could sell.
Severus sat back in his chair, head in hands, and sighed.
This house of cards that he had built around himself grew more and more unstable every day. One wrong move, and it would fall - to the destruction of everyone and everything he knew.
He hated himself for it. For the decisions he had made in his youth; for the consequences those decisions had reared; and for the destructive path he had laid out for himself and ever since had been forced to follow. He had become a necessary evil.
If fate existed, and everything he had been through was for a purpose, Severus was sure that this was it. This destructive cycle of loyalty and deceit had finally come to a crossroads. A decision had to be made. Severus could only pray that his betrayal to Dumbledore would not be in vain.
He had wasted too much time already. The Dark Lord's plan was already in motion. If he didn't act soon, Voldemort would rise to power, again - and the price of his silence would be too great. To great for even Lucius Malfoy to pay off. He hoped that he had bought himself enough time to prepare a counter-strike - even if it meant losing his job. It was imperative for Voldemort to trust him, now more than ever. Draco's young life depended on it.
He had a plan, but it was shaky. There were too many unknown variables in play for it to be foolproof. And he needed help. The thought of who's help he needed brought bile to his lips. All he knew for certain was Draco...Draco could not be allowed to leave Hogwarts. Not yet.
He had unconsciously begun to pour himself another glass, only to find that his hands were not steady enough to follow through. Whiskey was everywhere. In a blind moment of rage, Severus hurled the bottle at the fireplace, barely wincing as it shattered.
And he watched - he watched in stoic meditation as the flames consumed the shattered remnants of his failed attempt at peace. His eyes were cold - the fire danced in their reflection. It would be a while before he could blink again.
~*~
Allrighty, kids... any thoughts? Criticisms? I'm all ears over here!
A/N: I don't own a damn thing..
Summary: Surprise surprise! Draco weaseled his way out of expulsion!! Unfortunately for him, he has no idea how it happened. Something tells me that a tall, dark and brooding professor may have some answers - read on.
Side note: Many thanks go out to my readers! You guys are brilliant! Thanks so much! *big hug to Frannie*
~*~
"Mione! Look! They're on the move!" Ron was having a difficult time keeping his voice down.
"It's just Snape and Malfoy," Hermione deliberately lowered her voice in an attempt to get Ron to follow, "If he's expelled, why isn't Dumbledore with him?" Her finger pointed to the stationary dot that was their beloved Headmaster.
"You know Dumbledore, he's prolly just letting that git spend one last night at Hogwarts." Hermione could easily make out the young boy's grin in the moonlight. "And I for one am thankful he did! Can't wait to see his face at breakfast!"
"We don't know anything yet, Ron. He may not have been expelled at all." Hermione knew that Ron wouldn't buy it, but she still had to make an effort to be logical.
"Bullocks!" Ron's fingers violently bounced around Snape and Malfoy, who were slowly making their way back to the dungeons. "If I had just escaped an expulsion, there's no WAY I'd be walking that slow!"
"Ron! If you rip a hole in that map-" Hermione hissed as she scolded him. "Harry'll kill you!"
A dumb grin spread across Ron's face. "Not to worry, 'Mione. I've got you with me, after all."
Hermione desperately hoped the blackened room would hide the blood that was racing to her face - for she was sure that she resembled a beet just then. "You - you really think I could fix it?"
"Not really, no." The grin got a bit wider. "But you would distract Harry just long enough for me to run awayOW!!"
For once in her life, Hermione didn't really care how much noise Ron made, as she was positive that her fist hitting his skull would be louder.
~*~
Draco made his way down the stairs from Dumbledore's office, each step he took heavier than the first. The last half hour was a blur. The only thing he knew for certain was that he wasn't expelled. Just HOW he wasn't expelled still eluded him, but he had his suspicions. Draco didn't dare turn around; for fear that he might be called back up again.
Professor Snape walked along behind him, not making a sound. They descended the staircase together in silence. Not the same foreboding silence that had rung in his ears on their earlier ascent - but silence all the same. As if a storm had just blown over. Only when they were a safe distance from Dumbledore's office did Draco dare to speak.
"Professor-" Still not making eye contact, Draco tried to find the words that had been piling up in his head. He had no intention of giving himself away, but he had a feeling that Snape already knew his guilt. "That spell- "
"-was not yours." Snape finished for him. And it appeared that it was all he was going to say. Draco nodded, and kept walking. So they walked together; a knowing silence between them. They had made their way to the dungeons when Snape spoke up.
"You will be spending your detention with me. Every night, after dinner, for a month-"
Draco opened his mouth to speak - whether in protest or in acknowledgement we'll never know - for Snape cut him off too quickly. The "seemingly calm" professor wheeled around till he was only centimeters from Draco's face.
"Not...A...Word. " The few strands of hair that had fallen in his face made him look like a caged animal. The fact that he was speaking through clenched teeth didn't help, either.
"You've already fallen once today Mr. Malfoy - I do not plan on being there to pick you up again." Snape held his gaze for a moment, making it alarmingly clear that this had been a one time deal, and that any talk of it afterwards would be suicide.
Sure that his point had been taken, Professor Snape slowly turned on his heel and walked away. Leaving Malfoy alone in the dungeon to catch his breath.
~*~
Harry tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Well, not his bed per- say. The Infirmary's cots were a far cry from his Gryffindor bed, but they were always comfortable enough in the past. But not tonight. The bruise that was forming on his stomach alarmed him - alarmed him enough to not want to go back to sleep. Not till he had figured out some answers.
The sharp pain in his belly reminded him of how little he actually knew about the amulet. What it could do. How powerful it was. The little bits of information he had were vague to say the least. Professor Trelawney never was a stickler for details. It didn't help that she had been half asleep when she gave it to him.
He briefly considered asking her for more information, but quickly rejected the idea. He had been in possession of the amulet for a couple of days now - soon she'd be asking for it back. If she even remembered giving it to him in the first place. Besides, he had unfinished business with a certain blonde who had proved - difficult.
"No. I can't give it back. Not yet."
The thought of losing *his* amulet so quick into the game made him sick to his stomach. It was the answer to all of his desperate prayers. He felt alive when he used it - more alive than he'd felt in a really, really, REALLY long time. He wasn't about to give it back. Not soon, anyhow. *Or ever*
Harry shook his head in an attempt to forget, and an immediate headache followed. Malfoy's little "parting gift" in the form of a kick to the head was starting to make itself known. The right side of his face was starting to swell, and he was sure a bruise would be visible by morning. The bruise on his stomach would be easy enough to hide - but a footprint on his face? That would take some explaining.
The fall he had taken during dinner should suffice as a cover, but only if Madam Pomfrey was feeling gullible. He'd just have to wait and see.
Harry rolled over onto his side; making sure his "good side" was visible to Madam Pomfrey if she decided to make a late-night round. His thoughts drifted back to the amulet, which had made it's home under his pillow. He slid his hand beneath him and felt for it. 'Just making sure.' It was still there. But his hand did not pull away. He laid there, his fingers memorizing every twist the metal took, every link in the chain - it was comforting.
But it was alarming at the same time. He hadn't considered the possibility that he could be hurt in the dream realm. It hadn't even crossed his mind till - well, till he already was. The "what if's" started seeping in, casting doubts and fears over his *precious* God-sent. But Harry quickly dismissed them. He was too tired to worry anymore that night.
He felt his fingers wrap around the chain, but resisted the urge to put it on. He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to feel alive again - but the pain in his stomach spoke more truth than his desires. And luckily, he was coherent enough to listen.
'The Library. I'll go to the Library tomorrow.' He'd try to find his answers there. Meantime, get some sleep.
Harry glanced at the clock in the Infirmary.
4:03
~*~
Severus Snape tried his best to keep calm. And while his exterior kept up the façade, his stomach knew full well the extents of what he had just done. Only when he was in the safety of his quarters did he finally unclench his fists.
Taking solid steps, as to convince himself he was steady, Severus made his way to the cabinet, opened it and searched for the only thing that would give him solace. An illegally imported bottle of Albanian Fire Whiskey found its way into his hands. He poured himself a glass, downed it, and began to pour another as he sat by the fireplace. The fire that burned in his throat calmed his mind - providing a brief moment of clarity - enough for him to realize what had just happened.
He had willfully "altered" evidence - evidence that would have proved a certain young Slytherin's guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt. He had broken almost every rule a Professor at Hogwarts was sworn to uphold. And what was worse, he had lied to the one man who ever trusted him.
He had risked his job, and in turn, his life, for what? For keeping his prize pupil away from certain expulsion. It seemed so trivial when it was put like that. But he knew better. It wasn't the expulsion, or the shame it would've put on Draco's family that forced Severus to go against his better judgment. It was much more complex than simple answers could sell.
Severus sat back in his chair, head in hands, and sighed.
This house of cards that he had built around himself grew more and more unstable every day. One wrong move, and it would fall - to the destruction of everyone and everything he knew.
He hated himself for it. For the decisions he had made in his youth; for the consequences those decisions had reared; and for the destructive path he had laid out for himself and ever since had been forced to follow. He had become a necessary evil.
If fate existed, and everything he had been through was for a purpose, Severus was sure that this was it. This destructive cycle of loyalty and deceit had finally come to a crossroads. A decision had to be made. Severus could only pray that his betrayal to Dumbledore would not be in vain.
He had wasted too much time already. The Dark Lord's plan was already in motion. If he didn't act soon, Voldemort would rise to power, again - and the price of his silence would be too great. To great for even Lucius Malfoy to pay off. He hoped that he had bought himself enough time to prepare a counter-strike - even if it meant losing his job. It was imperative for Voldemort to trust him, now more than ever. Draco's young life depended on it.
He had a plan, but it was shaky. There were too many unknown variables in play for it to be foolproof. And he needed help. The thought of who's help he needed brought bile to his lips. All he knew for certain was Draco...Draco could not be allowed to leave Hogwarts. Not yet.
He had unconsciously begun to pour himself another glass, only to find that his hands were not steady enough to follow through. Whiskey was everywhere. In a blind moment of rage, Severus hurled the bottle at the fireplace, barely wincing as it shattered.
And he watched - he watched in stoic meditation as the flames consumed the shattered remnants of his failed attempt at peace. His eyes were cold - the fire danced in their reflection. It would be a while before he could blink again.
~*~
Allrighty, kids... any thoughts? Criticisms? I'm all ears over here!