Chapter Five:
Snape's Intervention
Snape had been grading an essay written by a rather ignorant third year Ravenclaw when he heard a knock on his office door.
"Enter," he snapped, wandlessly bending his wards and opening his door to the unexpected and rather unwanted guest.
"Good evening, Professor," his unwanted guest drawled.
"Good evening, Draco," Snape replied.
"I met up with Potter on my way to lunch. We had a rather… interesting intercourse," Draco said, the last word holding an unwarranted amount of venom.
Snape sneered.
"What did you do to him, Draco?" he said monotonously.
"Oh… nothing," Draco droned, "just enough to get him out of," he placed a hand on Snape's chest, "… our way."
"What," Snape spat, vein throbbing in his forehead, "did you do to him?"
"I told you-" Draco started only to be cut off with Snape's forceful question of, "Where is he, then?"
"Why should I-" Draco started once again, although Snape stopped him mid-sentence with his growing impatience.
"Where is he, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape forced out from between clenched teeth.
"It matters not," Draco whispered, pulling Snape's torso flush against his.
"Mr. Malfoy, I do not have time for your-" Snape never got to finish his sentence for Draco forced their lips together in a bruising kiss.
Draco kissed harder when the thin lips beneath his own didn't respond, only to be answered with a forceful shove against his chest.
"Where, Malfoy?" Snape said darkly.
Draco shook his head, his gaze landing on anything but his professor. Tears spattered down the front of his school robes.
"You're trying my patience, Malfoy," Snape whispered harshly.
Draco shuddered.
"Malfoy…" Snape said, his anger increasing with each passing second.
"In… Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Draco whispered, his voice shaky.
Snape turned on his heel and stalked to his office door.
"Leave," he said, holding the door open for Draco. There was no emotion in his voice.
Draco stood, legs unstable underneath his own weight, and walked to the door.
"Good bye, Professor," Draco said, voice cracking on the last word. Tears were still dripping onto his robes.
Snape said nothing.
Once Draco was back into the Slytherin dormitories, he broke down and sobbed. No one was awake to comfort him.
They wouldn't have tried, even if they were awake.
He wished Potter had never existed. It would make his life better, much better. If Potter had never existed, Snape might love him. That was all Draco had ever wanted.