Thanks to Bree, Captain-Ammie, TessaCilory and Sage and Snape for their very positive and supportive reviews. This chapter took me forever because the first time I wrote it, I hated it. Sorry for the wait.

Chapter 11 - Silver Satin Sheets

Severus woke up suddenly in a large, navy blue chair, facing Ms Daray. He was sweating fiercely, cold moisture clinging to his body. He blinked rapidly, making sense of the situation, then walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He wasn't expecting Ms Daray to wake up anytime within the next 24, possibly 36 hours. He climbed into the shower and let the hot water splash against his face, washing away the sweat. However, it didn't wash away the feeling of dread that had come from his dream. He knew that he would have to see the Dark Lord again soon, but that wasn't what worried him. Facing Mr Harrow and Ms Daray, knowing what they'd done, would be far more difficult than leading the Dark Lord to believe that he was a loyal Death Eater. He couldn't believe that they would leave their child in the care of another human being. He only hoped that this Demetri character was a decent man.

He wondered whether he should inform Albus about her parents or not, but decided against it. He could deal with this better than the man could. As wise as he sometimes was, Albus had no idea what it was like to have Death Eaters for parents, and therefore would not know how to deal with the girl.

He sighed and turned off the shower, wrapped himself in a towel and walked to his room. The silver satin sheets practically begged him to join them, but he refused and dressed quickly, lest he succumb to their temptation. He glanced at the notes covering his table, frowned slightly, then began preparing his breakfast. It was only 5:30, but his stomach was growling and he didn't trust himself to go back to sleep. He quickly cooked his eggs, covered them in salt, and burnt his toast. He threw the toast into the garbage and walked back to his favorite chair, watching Ms Daray. She breathed irregularly but calmly, her eyes still. She changed her position every once in a while, but aside from that she made no sound.

At twenty after nine, Severus heard a knock on the door. He was feeling rather cranky as he'd only gotten four hours of sleep. He sighed loudly and walked to the door, then opened it and let Draco in without even glancing at him.

Draco nodded to him, then walked into the living room and on the floor beside Drea. He sat there, just watching her for an hour, then finally stood up and sat at the table beside Severus.

"She's going to be alright, isn't she?" he asked finally.

Severus stared into the boy's eyes, trying to decide what to say. "Physically, the poison will be out of her body by this evening. Emotionally, I'm not sure how she'll deal with what she's been through. It's very possible that she'll come out unscathed, forgetting everything that she saw. It is equally possible that although she won't die, she will no longer be able to cope with her life, knowing what is to come. It may take her days, weeks, perhaps even years to learn to live again."

Draco pondered this for a moment, then asked, "Is there any possibility that she'll lose memories from before?"

"There's always that possibility, no matter what happens, however the poison, as well as the antidotes do not increase the risk. You should stop worrying, Draco," he said soothingly, although he himself was a bit concerned. "What happens will happen, and no amount of worrying will change that."

"I know sir, it's just that… she's the only real friend that I've got. She has this way of letting me know what she understands without saying anything, even when she's mad at me. Gods she's mad at me a lot." Draco paused here, lost in thought. Severus cocked his head slightly, observing the boy. He'd truly changed in the past few years.

"Sir…can I ask you a question?"

"Of course Draco, as long as it doesn't concern me," he said with a half-smile.

"It's a bit strange," he said hesitantly.

"It's up to you Draco. You know that I won't force you into anything that you don't want to do."

"Do you think I'm a…" Draco paused here, as the word was unfamiliar to him. "Jerk?"

Severus paused now, thinking back on the blonde's past. True, he sometimes acted obnoxiously around new people. He was also quite prejudice against non-purebloods, and was very vocal about it. Behind all that, he was a very mature, understanding, and from what Severus had seen lately, caring person who was learning who he was.

"At times," he said shortly, waiting for the question he was sure would follow.

"What can I do to stop?"

Severus was once again shocked. He had been expecting Draco to ask him why, not how he could change.

"I'm not sure I'm the person you should be asking," he said, taking a look at his own image. He was a single 36-year-old man with no friends and no family. He treated his students poorly, he trusted no one. The only thing he had left was his ambitions, and lately even those had been lacking.

"I am," Draco said, looking up at the man with nothing less than admiration.

"If you're sure you want to ask me this, be prepared for complete, blunt honesty."

"It's one of the reasons I respect you most, sir."

Severus sighed. He'd hoped that Draco would give up, but it seemed as though he'd only increased his desire to change. "First, you need to stop acting like you're better than everyone. Second, you need to stop putting non-pureblooded people down; it makes you look arrogant. Last, you need to convince yourself that other people's opinions don't matter. Actually, the way you do your hair doesn't help either," he added after a pause.

Draco sat in silence, staring at a knot in the table. Finally he spoke.

"I think my hair looks good," he said pathetically, apparently at a loss for what to say. "And mudbloods get only what they deserve."

Severus stood up, slamming his palms on the table. He put his face right in front of Draco and spoke is a dangerously deep voice.

"You're acting like your father. It's no fault of theirs that one of their parents happened to be a muggle. Have you learned nothing from your father's experience?" he hissed.

The boy stood up furiously. "I'm leaving," he said, pushing his chair in forcefully.

"Sit down."

Draco glared at Severus, daring him to say something else, then left the room. Severus stared silently at the door, then went back to reading his papers. Ms Daray shifted on the couch and moaned softly, forcing him to get up and make sure that she was still okay.

She was dreaming again, a sign that the potion was wearing off. Her eyes darted wildly, looking this way and that, but she looked peaceful and he was confident that she was fine.

It was too early for lunch, but for lack of anything better to do, Severus walked down to the Great Hall. He ate quickly, worried that Ms Daray would wake up while he was gone, which could make the difference between her being fine and being terrified and doing something drastic. After the last thought, he stood up and walked briskly out of the Hall, vaguely aware that someone was behind him. He let the person follow him down to the dungeon corridors, then turned around to confront them.

He was surprised by who he saw there. He had been expecting Moody, or possibly Karkaroff because of the feeling of dread that he felt, but he instantly realized that his feeling was for a different reason. Professor Trelawny stood in front of him, her huge glasses magnifying her eyes, which were already larger than normal, as she seemed to be surprised.

"You seem bothered, Severus," she said in her airy, slow voice. It was Severus' turn to be surprised, as she was right for the first time.

"I'm fine, Professor, thank you for your concern," he said with a slight sneer, though he kept it to a minimum.

"What troubles you?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He nearly pushed her hand away, but couldn't summon the energy to do so. Instead, he turned away slowly and walked down the corridor, knowing that she would follow. He wondered with amusement what she would do if he were to actually tell her. He thought of a sarcastic comment, then remembered what he'd realized while talking to Draco. The realization had affected him more than he had thought, and for a moment he stalled.

"One of my students fell ill last night and I'm not sure if she's going to recover fully," he said, telling her the truth without giving away too much information. Professor Trelawny missed a step, then quickened her pace to keep up with the long strides that Severus was taking.

"I sensed an illness," she said sympathetically, though Severus could tell that she was lying. "The Inner Eye can be both a curse and a blessing," she said, nodding and patting his shoulder again.

This time Severus shrugged her off casually then stopped in front of his door. "My student requires attention," he said, knowing that she wouldn't take the hint. She never did.

"Of course, Severus," she began, not moving from her spot. "If you ever need a prediction, or if ever you have a free eve-"

"Thank you, Professor Trelawny," he said much too quickly, walking into his chambers and closing the door. He leaned against it, sighing deeply, then walked to the living room to mind Ms Daray.

He crouched down to her level and noticed a bit of drool on her face. He quickly scanned his sofa to be sure that it wasn't on it, then wiped her mouth and closed it. He smiled sadly, remembering the time he had almost killed himself because he had drank so much alcohol. It hadn't been intentional, but his father had seemed to think that adding physical pain to match his emotional pain would cause him to stop.

He sighed again, then stood up and walked to the table. He began to read, but was so suddenly overwhelmed with emotion that he threw the parchments onto the floor and put his elbows on the table, head in his hands. His fingers curled tightly around large chunks of his hair until he couldn't stand the pressure anymore and threw his teacup against the wall.

The sound of shattering porcelain brought Drea from her peaceful sleep. She opened her eyes lazily, but instead of the dark green walls of her Dorm, she saw deep, almost velvety red walls. She then realized that she wasn't even in a bed, she was on a sofa, which was a warm dark brown, almost the colour of mahogany, and was strangely comfortable. She sat up slowly, noticing all the colours that she'd never bothered to look at before, then realized that there was a man sitting at table in what appeared to be a kitchen. She paused for a moment, watching him watch her, then recognized him. It was Professor Snape, who now cocked his head slightly, then stood up and walked toward her.

These must be his private chambers, she thought to herself. She vaguely wondered what had happened that she would find herself here, then remembered Halloween night. I must have been more drunk than I thought, she said to herself, wondering why she hadn't simply slept it off.

"How are you feeling Ms Daray?" the Professor asked her slowly, crouching down to look her in the eyes.

"I'm fine… actually, I think I'm going to be sick," she said, her stomach lurching suddenly. "May I use your washroom, sir?" she asked.

"Yes, of course. Go through the kitchen and turn left. It will be the third door to your left," he explained, leading her there anyway. She thanked him quickly, then walked into the room, closed the door, and threw up.

While she was washing her hands, she took in the bathroom. It was enormous; nearly three times the size of her bedroom at home. It had both a shower and a tub, the latter of which was built into the floor and the size of a large hot tub. Those things she took in within seconds, but noticing the colours took her several minutes. The room was painted sage green with dark green accents. The walls appeared to have been sponged over in several shades, both lighter and darker than the base. The tiles on the floor were white with the occasional fleck of green, which fascinated her more than it should have. She closed her eyes and shook her head, then opened the door and walked back to the kitchen.

There, Professor Snape was picking up his parchments and arranging them neatly on the table. Bits of porcelain still littered the floor, stained brown and green. She focussed her attention on the Professor, not wanting to get absorbed in the colours again, and, with her eyes, asked him what she should do.

He motioned to the sofa and faintly muttered something, then joined her in the living room. He sat in a brown chair, facing her. He took a breath, as though he was going to say something, then stopped and steepled his fingers, sinking back into the chair.

"Sir, I'm sorry that I was such a bother. I really didn't know that it was alcoholic," she said, assuming that this was what he had wanted to talk to her about.

"Ms Daray, the beverage that you consumed was not only alcoholic, it was poisoned. It contained uzinieren, a poison that, alone, has a drug-like effect on the mind, but when mixed with alcohol, causes wild hallucinations, often containing visions of the person's death. Judging by your state of calm, I am assuming that his was not the case with you."

He paused, allowing the information to sink in. She had learned about this poison at Durmstrang, but had never imagined herself taking it.

"Ms Daray, do you remember anything that you saw?" he asked patiently.

"No sir, I… wait, yes I do. I was on a merry-go-round. Everything was fine until it picked up speed. It was at this moment that I realized that my father was leaving. I tried to get off, tried to tell my father not to go, but the ride wouldn't stop and he left. Strangely enough, this exact thing happened to me, only it happened when I was 2, not 12 or 13, like in the vision, therefore I didn't realize that my father had left."

"Anything else, Ms Daray?"

She hesitated here, wondering how much she could tell the man. She decided that no matter what she said, she could trust him to keep it to himself.

"I was in a dark room, surrounded by Death Eaters. I was eight, and they were laughing at me. The Dark Mark was there as well, watching me from the ceiling, though every time I looked at it, it disappeared and reappeared elsewhere."

"Ms Daray, I need to ask you a very personal question," he said seriously, wringing his hands. "How much do you know about your birth parents?"

"Sir, what do you mean?" she asked in a confused voice, though she knew exactly what he wanted to know.

"I'm going to tell you something that you may or may not know." He paused and took a deep breath. "Your parents are well-known Death Eaters. They work for the Dark Lord by their own free will."

"I know sir," she said bowing her head. She considered asking him how he knew such things, but decided that that was his business. She finally knew that she could trust this man with anything. He obviously trusted her enough to know that she wouldn't be following that path, because if he didn't, he would have surely told someone about her parents and immediate action would have been taken. "I saw something else, sir. It was a memory, as were the others. My mother was packing. She was going to find my father and become a Death Eater, even though she knew he wouldn't take her back." She kept her head low, averting her eyes even though she knew that she could block him from sensing anything from them. "That's all I can remember, sir."

She looked up and saw him staring intently at her. She suddenly felt very ashamed, even though she knew that it wasn't her fault that her parents were that way. A tear trickled down her cheek, followed by several others, and within seconds she was crying openly, though silently. The Professor watched her hesitantly, as though unsure of how to react in this situation. "I'll be fine, sir, I just need a moment," she reassured him. He still looked unsettled, though, therefore she walked to the bathroom and washed her face, drank a glass of water, and took a few deep breaths. Once she was calm, she walked back to the living room, where Professor Snape was still sitting in his chair, staring into space.

"Sir, am I going to be alright?" she asked, knowing that she would.

"That's really to be seen, Ms Daray, but the poison is now completely out of your body. As long as you remain emotionally stable, you should be fine."

"I know this seems a bit strange, but I'm really curious. Which potion did you choose to administer? I know several combinations, but none containing all the reactions that I had," she asked, trying to take her mind off of her past.

"I had planned on giving you a sleeping drought, but it would have reacted poorly with the poison, therefore was forced to give you another poison. I gave you the poison in solid form, which slowed down the rate at which your blood absorbed it, putting you into a deep sleep, rather than killing you. The second potion was simply the antidote for the poison, which drew the poison from your bloodstream into your stomach where it could do no harm, hence the vomiting when you awoke," he explained.

"Ah, that makes sense then."

"I told Mr Malfoy that I would inform him when you woke up," he said after a brief pause. "Would now be a convenient time, or would you rather wait?" he asked, a slightly bitter tone in his voice.

"Now would be fine, sir," she answered. "How long will I be here before I can go back to my dorm?"

"I would like you to stay another night, just to be sure that your body is functioning properly and that your dreams aren't too disturbing," he answered, walking to the table and taking out a piece of parchment. He attached the parchment to a beautiful owl and told her to find Draco. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Just a little sir. What time is it? I could eat in the Great Hall. I don't want to bother you any more than I already have."

"Dinner will be served in an hour and a half. Would you like something to hold you until then?"

"Do you have hot chocolate?" she asked. She had a sudden craving a pickle and cheese sandwich as well, but thought that that might be too strange a request.

"Of course," he said, using a spell to produce a teapot of hot milk. He added cocoa and a large spoonful of sugar and mixed it carefully, then brought it to the table. "If you don't mind, I have a slight craving for popcorn," he said, a quirky smile appearing on his face.

"Not at all, sir," she said, thinking again of her sandwich. The Professor put a large, metal bucket with a lid and a handle onto the stove and added oil, salt and kernels of corn, which intrigued Drea enough to forget about the crunchy fruits.

"What is that, sir?" she asked.

"It's a machine that muggles used to use to make popcorn. I've tried other methods, but this by far the most delicious," he answered. The kernels began to pop, causing too much noise for further conversation. Drea heard a knock on the door and looked at Professor, expecting him to answer it. Instead, he looked back at her and gestured toward the door. She rose hesitantly, then answered it.

Draco stood there, obviously surprised to see her answering the door. She smiled shortly and walked back to the table, followed by Draco, who looked at her strangely.

"You look a lot better," he said, tucking his hands into his pockets. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling a lot better. Thanks for bring me here," she answered. She wondered why each sentence was followed by a second's pause, then remembered their argument. "Sorry for the way I acted at the party."

"It's alright, you didn't know what you were doing anyway," Draco said, another moment of silence following it. Professor Snape eyed them curiously from the stove where the popcorn had finished popping. He was pouring into a huge Slytherin-green bowl.

Draco turned to see what Drea was looking at. "You still have that, sir?" he asked, surprised again.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" he asked, taking a seat at the table.

"It's just so old," he began. Drea wondered how Draco would know that, then realized that there must be more to their relationship than she'd seen so far. "I bought that for you when I was six."

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow, then stood up. "Sir, may I go for a walk?" Drea asked, hoping that escaping the Professor would clear up some of the awkwardness between her and Draco.

"I suppose so. I would like to speak with you before dinner, so don't be long," he said.

"Thank you sir."

"You guys have known each other for a long time, I take it?" Drea asked, shoving her hands into her pockets. They walked down to the lake by mutual silent agreement.

"He saw me before my father did," he said bitterly. "My father was away when my mother went into labor, and getting back takes time, but I still hate him for it."

Drea nodded, not knowing what she could say. She stared at a knot in a tree, observing its shape and color. She finally couldn't stand the silence anymore and began to speak, but was cut off by Draco.

"This is ridiculous, but do you remember what we were arguing about the other day?"

"Not really. Do you?"

"No," he admitted.

"Sorry for calling you a jerk."

"Don't be, I am a jerk."

"That doesn't matter. I still shouldn't have said it. I just don't understand why you change so much." Drea expected an explanation after this, but never got it.

"I was really worried about you last night. We all were. You were acting really strangely, and you said some things…"

"What did I say?" she asked, furrowing her brow. Professor Snape hadn't mentioned anything like this.

"It's not important, never mind."

"I want to know," she insisted, hoping to find out if the boy knew about her parents. Her suspicions were confirmed when he finally spoke.

"You mentioned something about your parents wanting you to be a Death Eater, and something about not wanting to be with me. You also began shouting about trusting someone," he said as flatly as he could, sitting down on the grass.

"I don't remember any of that," she replied, keeping her own voice as neutral as possible.

"It's alright, it doesn't matter anyway."

"If it didn't matter, you wouldn't have mentioned it. I didn't mean what I said. I didn't even realize that I was saying it, how could I?" she asked rhetorically, slightly irritated, then sat on a large rock.

"Don't worry about it, I understand. So you don't remember anything?"

"I saw some memories of my life, but that's all," she said, trying not to give too much away, but also trying not to entice more questions. "Are we still fighting?" she asked, drawing the attention away from her experience. Draco shrugged. "Good, I hate being upset with people."

They spent the next hour discussing meaningless things, the awkwardness seeping away slowly until it was almost, but not completely, gone.

Drea finally stood up and wiped herself off. "I should be getting back."

"Yeah, probably. Snape doesn't like it much when people are late, and it's quite obvious that he didn't sleep last night, which makes him more even more irritable than usual." Draco said this without a smile, which surprised Drea. She was realizing, little by little, that Draco knew the man quite well.

"Bye," she said when the reached the huge wooden door that led to Professor Snape's private chambers.

She closed and the door and was overcome with fatigue. She went to the table and rested her head on it. She closed her eyes, and opened them only when Professor Snape cleared his throat impatiently.

"After dinner I'd like you to collect any homework that you haven't completed, then return here."

"Yes sir."

"If you finish your work and I haven't yet returned, you may go through my notes or read any of the books on the two left-most bookshelves."

"Is that even a word?" she asked tiredly without thinking.

"Left-most? It's quite unlikely, but the point of language is the communication of a thought, not the words themselves. If you understood what I meant, then the words that I used don't matter. Popcorn, Ms Daray?" he said, offering her the bowl, which was still half full.

"You really are a strange man, aren't you?" she asked with a smile, taking a handful of the stuff.

"You can't imagine," he answered with a smirk.