Albus Dumbledore had been needing to see his reaction for a while. He would never tell this to Severus (for it was his one check on the man), but whenever he was surprised or angry, the skin above his left ear tightened, making the ear rise a good eight of an inch above the other. So Albus had taken his piece of news and visited the dark potions master's lab at a time he knew he would be brewing the Terristen Solution. And now, Albus found that sneaking up on the professor when he had his hair pulled back had been unnecessary- the stiffening of Severus's spine was the spy's equivalent of throwing cauldrons about the room in a shocked rage.
"I hardly see, Headmaster," Snape said, turning to mash a bit of something Dumbledore only vaguely recognized as a sort of yellow fruit. The potions-master's voice had an unfamiliar hitch that shocked Albus to hear, but not nearly so much as the sound of Snape convulsively clearing his throat. "I hardly see why you saw fit to inform me of this matter."
"Why would I not?" Albus queried.
"Well, I can hardly see how this has any relevance to my duties," Severus said, his knife flying just a bit too quickly.
"Draco's behavior still exceeds that of the average sixteen year old pure blood boy, and his behavior has not worsened any recently even though apparently he has known about this situation since before the beginning of the term. As his professor, I should hardly say it is a concern."
"You are not just the boy's teacher, Severus," He reminded him, his usually kindly voice taking on a rare edge.
The potions master looked up from his brew for the first time since the headmaster's unexpected entrance. Dumbledore noticed with a mild shock the heavy, haunted eyes. His tone was flat, drawn, "No, I suppose not."
Abruptly, Severus turned away, "But even as such, I hardly see why this matter is so pressing. Draco hardly gives his mother a second thought. He is Malfoy's son."
Dumbledore paused, detecting the slightest twinge of bitterness in Snape's words. For a master legilimens he was certainly struggling to hide his emotions. But then again, Albus was uncommonly aware of Severus's faults, and he doubted that anyone else knew how to hear the deep-seated hate that he spewed at anyone that had ever humiliated him. Sometimes, Severus could act like such a child, allowing himself to be held captive by a bunch of foolish young boys. Surely, he was a genius, but sometimes the man did not make any sense to him…
Albus stared at the potion-master's dark-robed back for a few seconds, thinking. Finally, he spoke as calmly and rationally as he could, "Severus, Lucius is in Azkaban."
"And his hold on Draco has never been stronger," The potions master said, adding the lat vial set out before him into the black sludge of the cauldron. Albus wrinkled his nose slightly at the briefly emitted stench which swept across the room.
"Terristen, for your damned freak," Severus offered curtly as a way of explanation.
"Young Miss Wellsh shows some real potions skills, even for one of my freaks." Albus said gently, placing aside the potions master's anger like a snowflake on a warm hood.
Severus shook his head, visibly annoyed, "My apologies headmaster, I simply prefer not to be interrupted by trivial affairs whilst sweating over a hot cauldron brewing a complex potion for a foolish girl because you so requested it."
"Narcissa is moving into her father's house, so she can be nearer Hogwarts. It would be a kind gesture for Draco to at least go and see her one weekend…"
"And you want me to escort him," Severus said dryly, his left ear elevating again.
"It would only be in the best interests of Draco," Albus said sternly. "And you could at least try to be civil once in a while."
Severus stared blankly at the headmaster, passing over the criticism. He finally sighed, and held up one finger, "Just one time. Just to make a show of being supportive. After that, Draco gets to see his mother die all by himself."
Albus nodded sharply, not wishing to push his advantage. He opened the heavy wooden door. "Oh, and Severus," He said lightly, "I'd like you to start seeing Professor Ashbowe again."
Albus thought he saw the tortured potions master roll his eye as he turned away, but he knew the anger hid much more than his mental shields ever could.