Author's Notes: This is super short I'm afraid. It's short because I felt this needed to be a stand alone scene since it takes place in a completely different place to the rest of the story. I couldn't just leave you with this as an update though so the next chapter is up as well :)

Chapter 20: Mother

The first week and a half of the holidays had passed without any incident more disturbing than Draco had come to expect. To his relief he wasn't there, although his Aunt Bellatrix more than made up for that with her own unique brand of insanity. Draco said little and did even less, using holiday homework as an excuse whenever he needed to get away.

"Draco, I need to speak with you." His mother's voice was soft and quiet, but it still cut clearly through the darkness of his room as he lay in bed, trying desperately to get to sleep. He heard his door click shut and then a soft light suffused the room, coming from his mother's wand.

"What is it, mother?" he asked, half sitting up as she moved a chair to sit next to the bed.

"Why did you sleep with Marrisa?"

"What!?" Draco flopped back down onto the bed, hardly believing that they were resuming this subject.

"I'm not stupid, Draco, I'm well aware of why she ended up half naked in a corridor."

"That was her own fault! She stripped off in front of me, I kicked her out," Draco snapped, feeling his face flushing pink in the darkness and blurting out the first excuse he could think of.

"What about the Carrow twins?"

"I did not sleep with the Carrow twins!" That was another lie. Draco noticed his mother watching him carefully as she said it.

"And the Fawley girl?" she pressed.

"Mother! I've told you before. We are not having a conversation about my sex life!" Draco thought his cheeks were very probably bright red by now. His mother was still watching him, her expression a mask of carefully controlled neutrality.

"Very well. Tell me what she is like."

"Who?" Draco blinked. What was she talking about now?

"The Fawley girl."

"Isabelle?" Draco was at a complete loss as to what to say. He cast around for something neutral. "Well, you saw her. She's short, brown hair, brown-

"I could see that, Draco." There was a slight edge to her voice now, though it was still quiet. "I don't mean her physical appearance."

"Well um…" That threw him even more. "Why are you asking me this, mother?"

"Because she's the Head Girl. I want to know what sort of girl got chosen to work alongside my son."

"Oh." It sounded innocent enough, didn't it? He sought for something to say. "She's in Ravenclaw," he said lamely in the end, and then when his mother just continued to look at him was forced to find something else to say. "And um… she drinks peppermint tea and reads stupid muggle books all the time."

"No, Draco!" The volume was slightly louder this time and Draco snapped his eyes to her face in fear. If they were caught talking like this his aunt would never believe it was a simple mother and son chat. To his relief his mother had lowered her voice when she next spoke. "You are telling me what she likes. I asked you what she is like. Is she intelligent? Witty? Strong-willed?"

"Yes." The word came out before he could stop it, and he knew he'd made a mistake from the way his mother hissed through her teeth. Draco rolled onto his back so he didn't need to meet her eyes and stared at the canopy above his bed, bringing his knees up as he felt his heart rate ramp higher. Why had he said that? Why had he just said yes?

"Well she's very…" Draco sought desperately for a word that wouldn't sound half so awful as that yes had sounded. Eventually he settled for, "…very intense."

His mother let out a long, sighing breath and he heard her stand up.

"Very well," she said coolly. He heard her replace the chair and then could tell by the movement of the light that she was making her way to the door.

"Draco?" she murmured, stopping with her hand on the handle, "Why don't you deny it?"

"What?" He was confused. What was he supposed to have denied now?

"That you've slept with Isabelle."

It was his turn now to let out one of those long, slow breaths, and by the time he'd finished his mother had gone, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

Why hadn't he denied it? He'd denied the others easily enough. Why hadn't he denied Isabelle?

Fuck!

He rolled over and punched his pillow. It was going to be even harder than usual to get to sleep after that.

It didn't really matter though, because the next day… that was when everything went to shit.