Aah, I like this chapter very much. Finally, one that runs a theme through the entire thing. Definitely thank you to my only reviewer so far, TheJazz. ;) Hope you enjoy, dear!

Part Three

It was an awkward meeting, made through metal bars and on wooden chairs. Neither of them looked very healthy.

One in the bright red robes of a convicted prisoner, the other in ragged dove-grey.

The one in red couldn't help but notice how the one in grey's robes matched the faded parts of his hair, and at the same time, knew that it wasn't the reason why these were the robes chosen for the occasion.

The guards had been asked to wait outside, aurors-in-training, given a look at what they would be expected to apprehend in a year's time.

Remus didn't have anything to say.

"The boys are fighting, but I'm sure they'll learn to get along soon enough."

No need to be talking openly of sensitive information, whether they thought they were alone or not.

"They're important to each other, they'll figure it out," Snape said quietly.

He understood Draco's pain. He wanted for Draco what he hadn't been able to get for himself. He wanted that stupid, dense, arrogant child to take care of Draco in the ways that he could not.

"It's just a matter of convincing them of your guilt."

The wry humor was not lost on him.

Severus knew that convincing the people he had worked with in the Order would be hard, but it would be even harder to convince the people that mattered most to Draco. Snape could live with being hated and despised by his fellow wizards, he had certainly earned it by now, but Draco did not deserve it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said mildly,

Remus knew that Dumbledore had foreseen this kind of event happening. The only reason why Severus was not dead, albeit imprisoned for life in the depths of Azkaban, was on Dumbledore's post-humus word.

"The aurors must be getting better, to have caught you."

You played it well.

"You give me too much credit."

What do they think, if I've been caught

"Voldemort certainly doesn't."

You're still in his favor, as far as we know. There may be a break-out operation in the works.

So much meaning, hidden behind words. They could only guess and hope they were right. Snape fretted at this weak form of communication, having played with words long enough to know their many meanings. That was what a spy did, after all.

The door slid open.

"Time's almost up."

Severus looked at Remus through the bars of his tiny chamber intently.

"The moon is important too," he murmured, eyes desperate for the meaning to get through.

Such a feeble thing, words.

Remus flushed. He couldn't possibly...

"I...I know."

But do you

"Take care Severus," he replied quietly, standing up and allowing himself to be lead out of the chamber.

Those eyes followed him until they couldn't any more.

His wards stepped inside and slid the grating shut over the bars, giving him a little privacy and very little light. Sitting down on the thin mattress, he shuddered, replaying the moments over again in his head.

He only realized he shouldn't have wasted so many opportunities when now he had none.

---

He was sitting on the bed, looking forlornly at the rug under his bare feet. Too-loose pajama pants revealed too much bone and not enough fat, and the ragged, borrowed Weasley sweater covered his hands, giving him something to fiddle with. Molly Weasley's attempts to fatten him up were going unnoticed by his body, which was retaining the form of mourning despite her best efforts.

He had heard her, of course, when sitting in front of the fireplace in the sitting room, murmuring to Remus and sometimes Harry or Ron that they needed to liven him up. Remus always agreed, too kind for his own good, Harry always tensed and didn't reply, Ron always grumbled under his breath.

This time, though, Harry had been coerced into coming up into Draco's small guest room, and was sitting on the chair facing Draco, neither of them looking at each other. It had been a week since their argument, and it had always been like this when they were forced to be alone together, which was rare in itself.

Draco tucked a piece of stray blond hair behind his ear without looking up.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Um... you were right, about Snape. And about me. I mean, I don't really know that much about him, and I guess he's got reasons to act the way he does. And, um, I was hoping you'd, you know, forgive me, for being such a git about it."

Draco looked up, and a small part of him triumphed over finally getting the great Harry Potter to admit he was wrong, but the majority of him was still deadened, silent.

"They're in prison now. Both of them."

Harry, in a moment of sympathy, didn't ask who 'they' were.

"I probably won't get to see them again for a while. They won't let me visit my father, they'd never let me visit him. I miss him already, and it's only been a few weeks."

If the conversation had been the first time he had ever heard Draco speak to him as an equal, this was the first time he had ever seen Draco be so downtrodden. Other than that day in the bathrooms...

But that was a memory best forgotten.

That had been incredibly stupid of him, he felt guilty just thinking about it.

He didn't know why he mentioned it, but he did.

"That time in the bathroom. I don't know if you remember, but Snape was the one who healed you. I don't know if you would have survived, I don't know any healing magic..."

"He's good at it, even though he'll never admit it," Draco mumbled, smiling a little forlornly. "When my father beat me, he was the only one I'd let touch me."

Harry bit his lip and pushed his glasses up farther on his nose.

"Well, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but Remus went to go see Snape today, in Azkaban."

He felt his heart flutter a little bit when Draco looked up, the first emotion he had shown in days other than sorrow widening his eyes.

He was reminded of the revelation he had made, secretly, to himself, before Draco had even shown up at his metaphorical doorway.

"Um, so I'm sure you could talk to him about it," he finished lamely.

"I heard Granger talking to Remus," Draco said abruptly, eyes focusing on Harry and making him nervous. "She seemed to think that you were a bit obsessed with me over the school year. That you were... stalking me."

The corner of his lips quirked upwards in the tiniest fraction of a smile.

"I... well, I was sure you were up to something..."

Harry flushed, suddenly sweating under Draco's yearning eyes, and suddenly thought, "Maybe it's not so impossible after all."

"Well, you were right," Draco said mildly, re-tucking that piece of hair that seemed to refuse to stay behind his ear. Harry had the sudden urge to do it for him. "And I knew you were following me - Myrtle and Severus told me."

"Even Ron and Hermione didn't think you were worth following," Harry said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And you did."

Draco's eyes were boring into Harry's skull, and he felt a blush heating his cheeks.

"Yes, well, um, I better go then," he rushed and fled out of the room.

Draco looked back down at his feet, smiling a little more this time. He closed his eyes and imagined what could happen, now that it was all laid bare. He hesitantly touched himself before ridding himself of the dirtier thoughts and followed Harry out of the room. He felt like he was floating as he walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Molly was standing in front of the stove, cooking supper.

"Do you want any help?" he asked quietly, and she jumped a foot, nearly dropping the knife she was holding. Clutching at her heart, she took a deep breath.

"Oh, my, Draco dear, I didn't hear you there, you gave me such a fright! No, no, there's no need for you to exert yourself. Are you hungry? I've got some fresh bread right here from this morning, if you want to cut yourself a slice..."

"No, I'm fine," he said quietly, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Thank you."

"You're such a charmer," she said as she turned back to her stew. "I'm sure you must have had many girlfriends while you were at school. Why, I remember when I was in fourth year there was this boy from slytherin..."

It was odd, this comfort, this glow emanating from somewhere inside him. Just the idea, the insinuation, that maybe Harry liked him, wanted to be with him as much as Draco wanted to, if that was enough to set this fire inside him, he was sure he'd blow up if he ever got a kiss.

edit I don't usually do this, but duj was such a diligent and picky reader that I just had to. It's nice to have someone who forces me to up my standards! I looked very long and hard and couldn't find mention of Draco being too young for the apparation test. Also, I don't put warnings on things other than the rating. A bit of a pet peeve of mine. The story is what it is, and if they want to delete it, they can. As for dove grey versus silver, I think that's a bit opinionated. I agree with you on the eyes though, so that is changed, and I edited all the spelling mistakes I could find. If you go to the second paragraph of chapter six of HBP you'll find "hair streaked liberally with grey", which just challenges your version of "liberally".

Bad ending, ne? But here comes the romance. Comment please!