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Severus did not like to use the word funny to indicate a cruel irony, but even he would fell compelled to occasionally use the word to describe his own idiosyncrasies. And thus he would call it funny that he made his bed every morning as soon as he awoke. He could not remember why exactly he had started to do so, but he knew that it was sometime between being hired as a junior potions master and being recruited into Thwaite's Unmentionables. After that time, it had stuck with him, had become something normal to do in the morning, something to make him a bit more stable. It was funnier still because every time he would do it, he would think that his mother wasn't there to enjoy her small victory.

And she had fought hard for it. For as long as he could remember, she had always been adamant that he make his bed, and he never did it. He bore scars from their conversation: burn marks from an overly hot pot of coffee she had dropped while waving her arms about forcefully. He was always quick to point out that it was an accident, that he was not abused. And it was true, for he never spoke of those that hurt him, at least not to anyone besides Dumbledore, and Ashbowe (even if he was forced to tell her). And then, of course, he still remembered that there had been a moment there when he had wanted to tell Narcissa everything, back when she was nothing but a simple little girl and could be trusted to the inner workings of the most treacherous of hearts…

Severus snapped the sheets viciously, drawing them up over the pillows at the top of his spartan queen-sized bed. Though it was one of Hogwarts trademark four-posters, the austere potions-master had somehow managed to dull it down to his tastes. The simple bedding reflected the sharp edges of the Saturday morning chill that invaded his dungeon lair.

He smoothed the blanket roughly, and sighed as he looked about the simple wards he possessed. The bedroom was the least-lived in room in the apartment; indeed it looked like a ghost town of sorts and was in desperate need of a dusting. He bargained that it would be about two weeks before the need to clean would overwhelm the House-Elves fear of the potion-master's wards.

Looking out the door towards the small living area he reflected that maintaining his harsh image did have its definite down-sides. The fact that his was a sort of intimidation that worked best on children, small dogs, and other assorted small-minded creatures had never bothered him much. He had always been irritated and annoyed by small dogs. He had neither use nor desire for children (and his godson Draco had always followed his father's lead in ignoring Snape's dark demeanor). For the most part, only less-than-gifted first years had ever allowed him to interfere with their ability to work (and as soon as Neville Longbottom had begun quivering uncontrollably in front of him very much like a leaf, he had known that the awkward first year would be a liability in the laboratory). Now, though, his wards could use a good scouring and the usually cheerful Hogwarts help had been avoiding his dungeons like the plague ever since one of their numbers had received a cartoonishly enlarged nose after standing too close to an active cauldron of potion he had left in his bathroom to set.

I suppose that the fact that I yelled at the Elf afterward didn't help matters much either, Severus thought to himself. And I suppose that they also feel slighted that I do take away work from them. House-elves were oddly protective of such things as the right to make ones bed.

He trudged into the small bathroom of his wards and performed a quick scouring charm to his teeth and body. He could not tell how effective the charm had been however, as the Terristen Solution was nearing completion. He slipped on his favorite dragon-hide gloves from where they lay on the bathroom counter and carefully observed the exterior of the cauldron. He had learned after many years of unfortunate experience that many mistakes were clearly visible (and that many answers could be found) from simply looking at the condition of a cauldron. This one set just as precariously as he had left it last night, the white edges of the slightly-too-small laminate tub holding onto the black pot. A little perspiration set around the edge of the lid, which was to be expected. He sighed, thinking not for the first time that perhaps he ought to get around to moving into the Head of House dorm with its two bedrooms (including a larger study than the one he currently had carved out of a corner of his sitting room) and Jacuzzi size bathtub. But before he could allow himself enough time to make any further plans, a strangely pleasant scent emanated from the black cauldron.

He smiled, and lifted off the lid, content that at long last the potion was done. Even better, he had made enough that it should not have to be replenished for at least another three months. Let Ms. Wellsh just try to ruin his time now!

He looked at the large clock set over the cluttered desk as he exited the bathroom. Ms. Wellsh will have to wait to join the rather large group of students that ruin my time, he thought bitterly. It was 6:27, and Draco was supposed to be outside his wards at 6:30. As far as Severus was concerned, the boy was late.

He waited outside his wards for another ten minutes before finally resolving to go drag the impudent little prince out of his bed. Jinxes from his childhood days floated through his head as he contemplated how best to wake the scoundrel. Severus almost felt a bit disappointed as he saw the blond's form running full tilt toward him. His collar was not straight, his hair was tousled, and most horrifyingly, the boy was smiling at his professor as he neared.

Snape frowned reflexively. "Had a nice sleep, Malfoy?"

"Sorry I'm late Professor, my alarm didn't go off…" The flaxen-haired fiend declared, breathing a bit heavily still.

"Then perhaps you should have taken care to fix it. Though you may rest assured that I would have eventually came to awake you one way or another."

"Ah, well the alarm I use is not so easy to fix," He said, the inane smile still plastered to his face.

Severus fixed him with a death glare. Still the smile remained.

"Draco, why are you smiling?"

The boy's smirk grew even larger and more obnoxious (if that was even possible), and Severus sighed. Had he been but a few years younger and a bit less composed, he might have rolled his eyes. "Draco, forcing Crabbe to sit up all night watching the clock does not constitute an alarm."

"Actually, Parkinson volunteered."

"Draco, I am your head of house," He said lowly, trying to become menacing enough for a rapidly growing sixteen year old.

"Yes, yes and also my godfather, not to mention an old-fashioned prude," The boy said coolly. The idiot grin was still there, though it seemed to have lost its purpose. Severus severely hoped that his face had not frozen in that expression.

He threw his head back slightly, "Is that what your father calls me?"

"Only when he's sober," the boy said, looking like the damn Chesire Cat.

"Or not incarcerated," Snape said, nastily. Finally, the boy stopped his smirking, and the corners of his mouth tugged down. "Now, I've asked you a question, earlier, Draco. Would you kindly indulge me? Why are you smiling?"

The boy finally sobered up, and seemed to stand straighter, more coolly. "It's just nice to get out for a bit, I guess," He said finally, with a non-chalant shrug. Severus felt for him a bit then, and decided not to press him any further. Let the boy be happy if he must. Come November, he would have much less opportunities to

The boy stood about nervously for a bit, waiting for Severus to move, humming a slight tune. Finally, he looked up at the professor and cleared his throat. "Professor, as nice as it is to stand about like this in the middle of an awkward pause, shouldn't we find a floo?"

Severus looked at him, "We're not going by Floo, Draco."

"Oh, okay." The boy nodded, "Am I supposed to show the way or something?"

Severus shook his head, "Draco, when was the last time you visited the MacMordre Estate?"

The boy looked down, and mumbled, "Idunno, fourteen years?"

"Then you probably don't remember…"

"Remember what?" He said sullenly.

"Remember…" Severus paused, feeling his wand vibrate ever so slightly in his robe pocket. He grabbed his glowing wand and pressed it at the juncture of the wall and the floor. "Ursaiin ris," he mumbled, grateful that this particular spell was just as effective regardless of his bungled proununciation. A faint outline of a square began to glow on the wall. "Draco, you were given a word?"

"Umm, right." The teenager pressed his wand hesitantly against the square and mumbled, in a voice just loud enough to be considered a whisper, "Docha."

The square opened up and grew to a height just large enough for a man to pass through crouched. Draco looked at the potions-master briefly, surprised to see that his mother's cast off family had enough influence to buy a direct access to the highly secretive school. "I didn't know that the MacMordre's were a charter family of Hogwarts."

The Slytherin shook his head briefly, "Your grandfather."

"Of course, he would," Draco said, stepping through the porthole quickly. Severus took a deep breath, eyeing the small entrance distrustfully. Square archways…he thought, not remembering the rest of the aphorism. They bode bad things, that's the bottom line, Severus said, recalling yet another one of his mother's impassioned speeches. Naturally, Narcissa would die in a house with square doors. In his life, she had always been just beyond them, at a place he feared to reach. He stepped through.

A/N: Yeah, this story is definitely out-of-cannon as far as Narcissa goes. Don't worry though, it adds to the character I think. Plus, we get all manner of Scottish uncles for Draco (next chapter, I promise). If you enjoyed this, hated this, or read it and want to mention that, please write a review. Even a "Hey, I read this. Spiffy" would make my day better. Oh and a magical brownie for whoever can figure out where the story's title comes from. Next chapter I'll give full credit for it. Thanks again for reading.