AN: Apologies that this is slightly later than expected, it has been a very busy week! Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Oh, and I should probably warn you about some pretty strong language used in this chapter. What can I say? Draco says it how it is. Happy reading!

"Thank you, for agreeing to do this tonight Draco." Severus said graciously as the blond settled in the chair opposite. "I appreciate your being flexible."

"It's no problem." Draco shrugged. "Will you tell me why you wanted to reschedule?"

Severus paused, having not anticipated broaching the topic quite so early in the evening.

"I wanted some information from you."

"Oh?" Draco's curiosity was piqued.

"About the Final Battle." Severus elaborated and noted the slight paling of Draco's expression.

"Right. Anything in particular you want to know?" Draco put a brave face over his discomfort.

"Mr Longbottom was telling me yesterday of his own experience during the Final Battle. He recalled seeing Potter before he left the castle during the ceasefire, but didn't think that Harry could be handing himself over."

Draco scoffed. "Don't get me wrong, I've a new found respect for Longbottom, but he's not the sharpest wand in the shop is he?" Severus raised a bemused eyebrow. "I mean, Harry Potter sacrificing himself to save his friends and countless others from a violent maniac? Who couldn't see that one coming?"

Severus hummed. "Yes, well, Potter always was a martyr."

Draco grimaced. "Yeah, right up until the moment he threw himself into the green light."

A heavy frown descended on the Professor's face. "Excuse me?"

"When Potter went into the forest." Draco guessed that wasn't enough explanation from the look on the Professor's face.

"I wasn't there, but Mother told me after. Potter walked into the clearing where the - , where he was. No wand or anything. And he just took it. Just stood there while he cast the killing curse."

"What?!" Severus exclaimed. "He survived again?"

Draco shrugged. "Apparently so. How do you not know this? I thought you followed all the ministry reports."

"I knew Potter had gone to the Dark Lord, but no-one said anything about Potter surviving the killing curse. I doubt the Ministry even knows. They wouldn't unless Potter told them."

"I suppose he's got enough attention without letting them know he survived a second killing curse." Draco mused.

"How on earth did he survive this time?" Severus asked rhetorically.

"Mother said they were both blown back and lost consciousness for a few minutes, only when Potter awoke he pretended he was dead." Draco retold. "That's why he spoke at Mother's trial, because the Dark Lord sent her to check if Potter was dead and she lied for him so she could get to the castle, to me."

"Merlin." Severus breathed.

"I'm sorry, Severus, I really thought you knew this or I would have told you sooner."

The Professor dismissed his apology with a wave of his hand and his running thoughts distracted him.

"I can't believe he actually did it." Severus murmured, more to himself, though Draco heard.

The younger man chuckled. "I've decided not to put any limitations on what I believe Potter can do. It only leads to disappointment."

Severus rolled his eyes. "And all before graduation. Merlin knows what he'll do when he's out of Hogwarts."

"Dominate the Auror department, I suppose."

Severus huffed. "I suppose so." He drawled. "You'd think he would have had enough of chasing down dark wizards."

Draco shrugged. "No point in quitting something you're good at."

"Indeed."

It was a good thing, Severus thought, that he had moved Draco's meeting to an earlier day. It gave him time to process all the information he had received before he was face-to-face with Potter again. The only problem was, the more he processed, the angrier he became.

How could the boy just walk into the forest like that? Why had he not tried to save himself? Why had he not put up a fight?

Severus couldn't understand it. The thought that the boy might have died, should have died, made him feel sick to his stomach. How dare the boy have such a cavalier attitude to his own life! A life Severus had saved on a number of occasions he might add. And now the boy would run off to the Auror department and no doubt get himself killed in the first week by throwing his body on a cursed artifact of some kind. Severus had half a mind to write a letter to Kingsley informing him of exactly how poor the Saviour of the Wizarding World was at defence.

Severus grumbled. It would be a waste of his time if he did. Everyone at the newly reformed Ministry thought the sun shone out of Potter's arse. A letter from an ex-Death Eater would be unlikely to change that.

No. His time would be better spent nursing a large whisky. Or two.

One thing was certain. He would teach that boy to defend himself if it was his last deed on Earth.

The next morning Severus awoke with a headache that even a hangover reliever wouldn't cure. He glared his way through breakfast and replied to Minerva's attempts at conversations with monosyllabic gruntings.

Harry sat happily with his friends at the Gryffindor table, making Severus glare harder and grip his coffee tighter.

At last, Minerva snapped. "For Merlin's sake, Severus, what is the matter with you?"

Severus put his cup down with a clatter that made his head sore. He ground a, "Nothing," through his teeth and grimaced when he sounded like a surly teenager.

"Evidently." The Headmistress snapped back sarcastically. "Well whatever it is, sort it out before your first year class this afternoon. I'm far too busy to be fending off howlers from parents because you brought 'Little Timmy' to tears in Defence class."

Severus snarled in outrage. "Fine." His chair scraped against the stone floor as he pushed it back harshly.

Only one student noticed the Professor's angry departure; recognised his old, pre-peacetime expression of distaste with the world around him. Draco knew that expression well; his Godfather was pissed. The blond had his suspicions that the Professor's foul mood was due, in no small part, to the conversation they'd had the evening previous. Draco hoped that he wouldn't bear the brunt of his Godfather's displeasure for being the bearer of bad news, but seeing the glaring snarl of the Slytherin Head of House turned on the unobserving Potter and friends, he suspected that Severus' bad temper would find another target.

Throughout Arithmancy Draco pondered on his next actions. He had seen that expression on his Godfather before. When the man was in that sort of mood, he no longer acted with the sense he was born with. Instead, the man could be vindictive and cruel.

Potter ought to be warned, Draco concluded. For some unknown reason, the boy-saviour practically hero-worshipped Snape, Draco knew, he wouldn't be expecting the return to Snape's former self. And Draco did also kind of owe the Gryffindor, since Potter had pretty much single-handedly saved his reputation by being ridiculously, and publically, forgiving. The question was, how could he warn him? While Draco was in Arithmancy, Potter had a free period and would no doubt get to DADA before he himself could.

Draco looked sideways subtly. Granger sat parallel to him, furiously scribbling notes. Granger would be able to pass a message on to Potter. Even if she got there after Potter, she sat close enough to pass a note, or she could no doubt use some other form of magical communication. Draco was pretty sure the Golden Trio had by now developed a means of telepathic communication between the three of them.

But speaking with Granger posed its own problems; like how he could approach the Gryffindor princess without her shaking in fear. Draco hadn't spoken to Hermione since he'd heard her being tortured in his drawing room, and since their first DADA lesson, when he had seen her ashen face, Draco had vowed that he would stay out of the girl's way; for both their sakes.

The lesson progressed, Draco watching Granger surreptitiously throughout, and then drew to a close. Hermione left first and Draco picked up his things quickly after, wondering if he could still make it to Potter before their lesson started. In a hurry he took a sharp right out of the Arithmancy classroom door and stopped abruptly before he ran into a tense looking Granger.

She stood timidly, a heavy bag over one shoulder and yet more books clutched to her torso by both arms. Her posture was defensive but she raised her chin with a confident determination, her expression set.

"What do you want, Draco?" She asked fiercely, and Draco, though taken aback, took a moment to appreciate that, however much she might despise him, she still used his first name and not the tainted name of his father.

"Er, what? Nothing!" Draco denied honestly.

"You must have looked at me about twenty times during that lesson, Draco. You either thought you could legilimize the answers from my head or you want something and were wondering how you could get it from me." Granger commented unforgivingly.

"Look, I don't want anything." Draco held up his arms in surrender. "I was hoping you could pass on a message to Potter."

Hermione frowned. "Why can't you tell him yourself? You do live in the same dorms now." She said as though he were a simpleton.

Draco sighed. "Because I need to get him the message before our next lesson and I don't sit close enough to pass him a note or whisper in his ear without Snape seeing, alright?" He huffed and took a new refreshing breath. "Look, can we walk and talk? We'll be late if we hang around here any longer, and I don't really fancy being in Snape's bad books today."

Granger gave him a scrutinizing look and then turned so that they could walk side-by-side.

"So what's the big, important message?" She asked as they walked.

"It's not that important," Draco clarified. "I just thought Potter should be given a heads up that's all."

"Alright."

"I noticed Snape this morning. He's in a foul mood." Draco began.

"Well? It's Snape." Hermione countered. "He doesn't exactly have a sunny disposition, does he?"

"This is different. Snape's generally a miserable bugger, I know, but he's been better since the war, hasn't he? More reasonable and the like."

Hermione considered him. "You're right, Professor Snape is far more amicable this year."

"Well, this morning he looked more like his pre-peace-self. He had a face like thunder and I think it's going to be directed at Potter."

"Why do you think that? The Professor has generally been very positive with Harry so far this term." The Gryffindor questioned.

"Because last night he calls me to his office and starts asking questions about the final battle. He wanted to know about Potter walking into the Forbidden Forest and I told him about how he sacrificed himself, how he," Draco lowered his voice. "How he survived the killing curse again."

Granger gave him a sharp look but said nothing as Draco continued. "I can't pretend to know what my Godfather is thinking but I reckon it might have something to do with that."

The Gryffindor nodded and Draco took that to mean she would pass on his message.

They were approaching the DADA classroom when Hermione turned to Draco. "Why have you told me this? Why do you care?"

Draco shrugged. "Seemed like the decent thing to do." He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding Granger's assessing eyes. "Potter practically hero-worships Professor Snape. It didn't seem right for him to be blindsided by the old, acerbic Snape." He shrugged again.

They were at the classroom door. Granger turned to him, right before she pushed the oak door open, and smiled, warm and authentic; the first smile she had ever bestowed on him. "Thank you, Draco." And then she was through the door.

The pair of them entered just as the professor burst through his office door. He glared at them as they took their seats but said nothing of it.

"Silence." Snape demanded, though no-one was actually talking, and began giving feedback on their marked essays.

Draco was distracted from his ruthless analysis by Granger rustling through her bag. She stuck her arm right in, digging around in the bottom until a triumphant expression adorned her face and she pulled out something small enough to be concealed in her hand. Draco frowned at her. As far as he could see, she had yet to make any attempt to pass his message on to Potter. She sat still at last, staring intently into her lap for no reason Draco could fathom.

It was only as Hermione returned to normal and began taking notes that Draco noticed Potter looking at his own lap. Potter looked up and Draco saw him give a subtle nod to Granger, his expression sober. Bloody hell, thought Draco, the Golden Trio really had developed telepathic communication!

As Professor Snape had begun to talk, Harry had been somewhat startled by the buzzing warmth occurring in his inside robe pocket. Discreetly, he pulled out the fake Galleon, which he and a number of the DA students had used for secret communication since 5th year. The system was rather more refined now, however, with users able to send messages to just a specific person or group of people.

Harry read the coin message in his lap and saw that it was from Hermione.

"SS on the warpath. Watch your back! H x."

Harry frowned slightly at the message and put the coin away. Professor Snape did seem to be in a bad mood today, more like his old-self than the concerned man the 8th years had come to know in their meetings. Still, Harry didn't think that he'd done anything to piss off the Professor lately. Clearly Hermione knew something he didn't. Harry would keep his guard up either way, and resolved not to do anything that could get him into trouble this lesson.

"Due to the high number of students in this class who have expressed an interest in a career with the Auror department," Professor Snape spoke in a voice deceptively calm. "And as your defensive skills have proven generally to not be awful, I have decided that it will be useful for you to learn how to defend a third party whilst in battle."

Snape slipped his wand out of its holster. Wordlessly, he conjured a stuffed cat and, with a second swish of his wand, the toy transformed into a realistic-looking cat which came to life, purring and cleaning its paws with a tiny pink tongue.

"Each of you will face the dueling dummy, whose aim will be to get past you in order to hurt the innocent, little kitten." Snape drawled. "You will attempt to shield the cat using an advanced form of the protego charm."

Brandishing his wand, Snape demonstrated, "As follows: protego prolato."

A bright blue shield emerged from Snape's wand just as it would for a regular protego, only this time the shield moved over to settle in front of the ginger-haired kitten. "While simple enough to cast," Snape lectured. "The spell requires more power than a usual shield and so you will need greater magical strength to maintain the shield over longer periods of time." He flicked his wand and the blue light disappeared. "You will attempt the task in alphabetical order. The rest of you will observe and take notes."

Harry watched his classmates face the magical dummy one by one. Their shields lasted varying lengths of time, but all eventually failed and the dueling dummy was able to blast the kitten to floating pieces of stuffing.

"Potter." The Professor snarled as soon as Draco failed, waving his hand to bring the kitten back to life.

Harry stepped up feeling confident that he would be able to hold his shield for at least a respectable amount of time, but still wary of the vindictive look in Snape's eye.

"Protego prolato." Harry enunciated clearly, moving his wand in the fluid arch required to perform the spell. He could feel the flow of magic moving through his veins and out of his wand and took care not to apply too much power. He ensured that the shield covered both himself and the kitten next to him; he had seen others fail the task because they left themselves exposed.

Harry lasted longer than any of his classmates had managed, but he too started to feel the strain of maintaining the shield. He could feel the spell weakening, the blasts of the dummy shaking the shield. In a split second the shield broke and Harry threw himself in front of the kitten, right into the path of a vicious blasting curse from the dueling dummy.

Harry was thrown backwards, up into the air and then hard against the stone wall of the classroom, slumping back down to the ground with a thud.

The room was suddenly still and silent.

Severus burst into action first. "Potter." He moved with lightning speed across the classroom to Harry's side.

"Harry?" He crouched low to the boy's side to assess his injuries. "Harry, can you hear me?"

A groan came from the crumpled body and Harry's eyelids fluttered open. "Yeah, Professor, I can hear you." He murmured.

"Can you tell me where you are hurt?" Severus asked in concern, readying his wand to do a diagnostic charm.

But Potter was already moving, sitting up and preparing to stand, "M'alright, Professor."

Granger objected before Severus could. "Harry, you took a nasty blast, you need to be still so we can assess your injuries."

Harry was on his feet before she'd finished her sentence. "Nah, I'm fine. Just a bit bruised is all." He rubbed the back of his head and tried not to wince as he felt the egg-lump coming up there.

"Merlin, Harry." Ron said with some exasperation but a playful grin nonetheless. "Nothing's ever simple with you is it?"

Harry laughed good-naturedly. "I try my best."

As Severus saw that the troublesome Gryffindor was uninjured, his concern ebbed and was replaced once again with anger. He turned to Potter furiously.

"What in Merlin's name did you think you were doing?"

Harry turned to his Professor, a little surprised at the sudden aggressiveness of his teacher's tone.

"I was protecting the cat." Harry said, somewhat confused by the question.

"The cat is not real." Snape hissed in fury.

"But you told us to defend the cat." Harry explained as though it was obvious.

"Not at the expense of yourself!" Snape's voice began to rise.

"Well you didn't say that!" Harry argued defensively.

"Because I thought it bleeding obvious!" Snape yelled causing eyebrows to raise on the other students at their professor's language.

Harry's voice rose too, matching his own rising irritation. "Fine! Next time I'll let the cat be blown to smithereens."

Snape's voice dropped to a low and threatening tone. "Do tell me, Potter, who was supposed to stop the cat being blown up once you had been knocked unconscious against the wall?"

"Alright, you've made your point." Harry stated angrily.

"I doubt it, Potter." The Professor snarled. "No doubt tomorrow I will find you in the hospital wing, half-dead, having sacrificed yourself for a flobberworm."

Harry scowled. "Are you finished?"

"Are you finished playing the Boy-Hero so that you need never bother to learn the spells that could actually save you and another?"

Harry stepped back. He had no desire to revisit his old lessons with Snape where the man pushed him until he snapped. Instead, when the Gryffindor spoke, it was in a quiet and calm voice. "I guess I am finished."

Without another word, Harry collected his bag and belongings. He didn't look back as he left the classroom.

Not a moment after Potter had left, Severus felt his stomach drop. Granger and Weasley were gathering their own things and were ready to follow their friend out of class.

Weasley paused before he left the classroom and threw Severus a disgusted look. "Typical." He spat.

Granger just looked disappointed. She pulled on her boyfriend's arm. "Come on, Ron. We need to find Harry."

The mention of his best friend got the red-head moving and they were both out the door before Severus could think of anything else to say.

The Professor turned to the remaining 8th years who looked to him expectantly. There was little of their lesson actually left and Severus didn't think he could bear another minute of it. He dismissed the class early, instructing them to read a chapter of their book before their next lesson, and returned to his desk.

He sat at his desk and pretended to mark essays. He was still angry at Potter and his ridiculous self-sacrificing streak, but he was also angry at himself.

When the classroom had gone quiet he looked up and saw that Draco was still there.

"What do you want, Draco?" Severus asked tiredly.

The blond shrugged. "Just wondered what you're planning to do now?"

Severus glared. "I plan on marking these truly abysmal 3rd year essays on the threats of underwater creatures."

"Right, of course." Draco nodded.

The young wizard made a big show of picking some invisible flint from his robes.

"So, you know you really fucked up, right?" Draco asked casually before thinking to add a belated, "Sir."

Snape fixed him with a furious look. "Draco, I may be your Godfather but while I am your Head of House and your professor, you will treat me with the respect to which I am entitled."

"Well as you have always taught me, Professor," Draco replied, unfazed. "Respect must be earnt."

He walked towards the front of class and perched on a desk in the front row. "And, as much as I respect you, Professor, can you honestly say that you haven't been a complete arse today?"

Severus frowned, somewhat chastised. "Perhaps." He admitted. "Though I stand by what I said."

"Of course you do." Draco rolled his eyes. "We all know Potter's got a nasty habit of throwing himself into curse-fire to save his loved ones, and the innocent, and, well, just about anybody really." Draco gestured wildly. "He's an idiot, I agree. But he didn't deserve that today. Just when the guy is beginning to actually trust you, you treat him like crap. Potter doesn't know why you were so upset, Severus. He's just thinking that the pre-peace, prejudiced Death Eater is back."

Draco didn't bother waiting for a reply. Having said his piece he fetched his bag to leave. "Fix it, Professor." He said at the door. "Fix it today."