A/N: So this one didn't turn out the way I originally hoped it would but whatever. It still sets the mood needed for part two and that's all that counts, right? Right? I'm going to just count all of the crickets I hear chriping as my amazing readers agreeing with me. Speaking of amazing readers, I hope you all like this part!

"I can't believe your dad wants you to do that, Draco! Doesn't he know how dangerous it is?" Blaise hissed, eyes wide and nervous.

Beside him, Draco shrugged. His steely blue eyes were still locked on to the letter that he'd recieved moments ago, a note from his father with requests for him to get close to Harry for the Dark Lord. His skin had an almost flushed look to it now, too. Like there was more to the words on the paper than it seemed; and of course there was. There were threats hidden behind everyword, lingering promises of what would happen to him if he didn't listen and do what he'd been told.

"Father doesn't care." Draco's voice came out raspier sounding than he wanted it too, and he was suddenly glad that Blaise had insisted they open the letter in the bathroom and not at the feast. It would have been so horribly embarrasing if the other Slytherin students saw how shaken he got frm reading a simple letter, let alone one addressed to him from home. They might even get suspicious.

Blaise let out an angry snort, letting himself slide down the bathroom wall until he was sitting on the cold stone floor. "I know. He should though. Father's are supposed to care."

Of course, Blaise would be upset over that. The dark-skinned boys own father had never been around, always out flirting with barmaids and lurking in shadows he didn't belong in. It always deeply upset him to know that Draco's father was similar to his own.

It was at that moment that one of the stall doors creaked open and Mathew Williams slowly padded his way over to the sink next to Draco. Both boys stared at him, wide eyed in surprise, but neither could actually think of anything to say. That conversation was supposed to be private! Draco was sure that all of the stalls had been empty when he checked!

Luckily, Mathew didn't let them stew about it for long. "You should try to keep in mind that 'father' is a relative term, Blaise. It doesn't mean 'unconditional love'. It means judgement. And if you fail to meet their expectations, that judgement becomes even harsher."

Mathew could still remember those first few years at Arthur's house, back before the European nation became so focused on Alfred and stopped seeing him, when all he was given was judgement. Days that Mathew muttered something in French or made the smallest motion that seemed like he was rebelling against Arthur, those judgements got harsher. Even now, when the air was especially cold and Mathew was especially tired, he could still feel the sting of that judgement as it tore into the skin on his back.

Not bothering to look at either boy, Mathew turned off the faucet and grabbed a hold of the white handtowel hanging on the wall. "Even so, you shouldn't hold it against him. A father, biological or not, only tries to do what he feels is best. Even if it doesn't make sense to you, it makes sense to him. Their judgement is because they want you to be safe and, even if it hurts you a little in the process, they think that the end is worth the means."

Even though it never was.

The end was never worth the means. It was never what you wanted and all it did was hurt, hurt, hurt. But that was just how it turned out for him. Alfred hadn't had that problem; the means had been justified in the end. But his brother was lucky like that, with things always seemign to work out fine for him in the end even during times of war.

Neatly hanging the towel back on its rack, Mathew gave the two boy a small smile. It wasn't a real one, but years of practice ensured that it looked like it was. "Just make sure you don't let their judgement rule you and you don't forgive what should never be forgiven. You won't like the person you become."

And then he was gone, slipping from the bathroom as quietly as he'd slipped in, and leaving behind two very confused Slytherin boys.

"It...Sounds like he knows what he's talking about." Blaise said.

Draco gulped and nodded, something in the back of his mind telling him that this was a conversation worth remembering.