A/N: It's been a really really long time since I updated this story. I could make excuses but I'm sure you've heard them all before. However, this story is now finished and I'm just editing it before I post it. So that's totally exciting! :D I have to apologize though for this chapter in specific. It might be a little dull. It's mostly a chapter full of conversations setting things up for the rest of the totally awesome story! Well... the next chapter should be up sometime next week when I get time to read it again for mistakes. Thanks everyone!!!
Harry returned wearily to the Gryffindor common room only to be met by the anxious faces of Ron and Hermione. He hastily recapped the befuddling events of the night in hopes that he would soon be able to excuse himself and retire to his bed where he could think in peace. Ron, however, had other ideas.
"You really are going to take lessons from Snape then?" He looked appalled at the thought of anyone voluntarily spending time with the greasy git.
"If he'll teach me. And it's not like I really have a choice here. I need the training." Harry sighed knowing Ron wouldn't fully understand his decision.
"But classes are teaching you stuff right? I mean, why couldn't you continue on with them and do some extra studying in your free time?"
Harry shook his head. "I'm not going to kill Voldemort with the things I learn in class." Ron still flinched at the name and looked at Harry with something akin to horror.
"What're we talking about here Harry? Are you seriously considering learning the Dark Arts?" Harry met Ron's gaze with one of resignation.
"I'll do whatever it takes to defeat Voldemort. The bastard has controlled my life for far too long." Ron's jaw dropped and he stammered trying to find something to say. In the end he appealed to Hermione who had been ignoring the conversation in favor of her Arithmancy book.
"Do you hear what he's saying? He's going to learn the Dark Arts!" Hermione looked up from her book in consideration.
"I hear Ron. I understand where you're coming from Harry and I even agree that you need to have some knowledge of the Dark Arts in order to fight the Darkest wizard of the century." She gave Harry a small smile before settling into lecture mode. "But you need to realize that there is a difference between learning the Dark Arts and practicing them. If what you intend to do is face Voldemort with your own arsenal of Dark spells then I'm going to have to adamantly disagree."
"I will not become a Dark wizard. I just need to know what I'm up against." Hermione nodded and smiled before returning to her book. Ron stared at the both of them as if they'd sprouted second heads, jaw hanging open and eyes as big as soup bowls.
"You're both nuts. That's all there is to it. You've both gone round the bend." Harry met Ron's stare and couldn't help but laugh. Ron hesitantly joined in, more to ease the tension than out of humor.
"We've not lost it Ron we're simply being practical," Hermione said, not even bothering to look at them. "As long as Harry is careful there's nothing to worry about. Besides I'm sure Snape wouldn't allow Harry to get in too deep." Her practical statement ended the debate, though Ron looked as if he would gladly argue about it all night. Harry quickly excused himself, claiming exhaustion, and hurried to his bed.
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Draco woke slowly, letting awareness seep into his mind, registering the sharp ache plaguing his body. Warily he opened his eyes, wincing as bright daylight blinded him. The pain in his head doubled and he seriously considered passing out again. Instead he painfully turned his head, taking in the half empty Hospital Wing and a bustling Madame Pomfrey rushing around with morning potions. Draco groaned as the infuriating woman caught his eye and hustled to his bedside.
"How are you feeling dear?" The medi-witch began examining him without waiting for an answer, but Draco gave her one anyway.
"How does it look like I feel?" His voice was hoarse and small and unable to carry the sarcasm his question warranted. Madame Pomfrey ignored his comment and handed him a glass of water, which he gratefully downed.
"Well you're going to need a bandage change and some potions, but we'll wait until Professor Snape gets up here for that." Draco winced at his godfather's name. Of all the people he didn't want to see right now, Severus was at the top of the list.
Ten minutes later an irate Potion's Master came bursting through the doors. Draco sighed noting the dark circles under Severus's eyes. Draco knew from experience that when Severus got anything less than eight hours of sleep he ended up ridiculously irritable the next morning. The Slytherin decided to head off his godfather's attack.
"You look angry this morning," Draco said in the light, airy tone he'd perfected just for the purpose of galling his godfather. The statement earned him one of Severus's glares. Draco just smiled.
"Last night wasn't exactly peaceful." Severus slouched down in the chair beside Draco's bed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
"Want to tell me about it?" It was an old joke between them, Draco trying to pry into Severus's personal life just like the older man pried into his. It got the expected half smile as the Potion's Master sat forward and rested his elbows on the bed.
"That's my line." The young Slytherin smirked, glad that he'd put his godfather in a better mood. "So what happened last night?" Draco's face fell and he looked away, unable to meet Severus's eyes.
"Nothing really. He was angry and he took it out on me." The Slytherin's voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Angry about what? The attack? Surely he didn't think a handful of Death Eaters could take down the school?" Draco shook his head.
"The attack was… unplanned." Draco glanced at his godfather from the corner of his eye, just in time to see the man frown.
"Unplanned? What do you mean the attack was unplanned?" A fine thread of anger had worked its way into the Potion Master's voice. Draco sighed and plunged ahead.
"Some of the newbies took it upon themselves to attack Hogsmead. The Dark Lord never gave any such orders." Draco met Severus's angry stare, waiting for the words to start flying. He wasn't disappointed.
"Newbies?! You mean to tell me that they were students!?!" Severus's eyes widened alarmingly and Draco cringed in anticipation. "Were you there!?!"
"No I wasn't there, but yes, they were students." Draco's voice was flat and the Slytherin watched as his Head of House visibly tried to calm himself.
"Why were you punished?"
"Because I was there. You know how he gets." Severus nodded, he did know how unpredictable the Dark Lord could be. "He's given me a new assignment," Draco whispered. The older man looked at him sharply.
"And what's that?"
"He wants me to get close to Potter. Get information from him." Draco stared at his godfather beseechingly, eyes pleading for the help he was too proud to ask for. "There's no way. Potter won't do it." The Slytherin watched as Severus pondered the dilemma silently for a moment before offering his advice.
"What if you were to inform Potter of the plan? I'm sure his Gryffindor nature wouldn't allow him to say no." Draco shook his head and opened his mouth to protest only to be cut off by the older man. "Potter has asked me to give him lessons. If you want I could bring up your plight. Then when you approach him it won't be a complete shock." Draco smiled at him, knowing that his nurturing side was showing through the gruff exterior.
"If you could." Severus nodded, effectively closing the discussion. The Potion's Master pulled three brightly colored potions from his robes and placed them on the nightstand.
"Take all three of these and get some rest." Draco nodded and moved to grab the potions but was stopped by a warm hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see his godfather smiling down at him. "Don't worry. I'll help you." Draco sighed and smiled back. The young Slytherin downed the three potions and drifted into a restless sleep.
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Severus watched as his godson drifted off to sleep, worriedly noting the paler than normal skin and crimson blood soaking through the bandages. With a sigh he waved to Madame Pomfrey, who hustled to his side.
"Call if anything changes." The woman nodded and moved to Draco's side to begin his bandage change. Severus observed for a moment and deemed his godson was in capable hands. Turning in a swish of robes Severus strode from the Hospital Wing, lost in thought of ways to help Draco.
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted as he opened the doors of the Hospital Wing and ran directly into the Boy Who Lived. Potter looked as though his night hadn't been any better than the Potion's Master. He looked up with dull green eyes sporting a wary look akin to that of a kicked puppy. Severus sighed and let the door swing closed behind him before grudgingly greeting the Gryffindor.
"Potter." His voice was perfectly calm, neither inviting nor discouraging response. Potter, being as obnoxious as ever, took it as an invitation for questions.
"How is Malfoy?" The boy sounded genuinely concerned and Severus was hard pressed to hide his surprise. Composing himself, he civilly answered the question.
"He is doing well. He's healing quickly but it will be a couple days before he's back on his feet." Potter nodded and was unable to hide his surprise from Severus.
"I just thought I should come check on him." Potter held Severus's gaze for a moment and the Potion's Master could almost feel the plea in his eyes. With a sigh the boy gave up and turned to leave. Severus groaned quietly and quickly caught the golden boy by the arm.
"Detention, Potter. Monday night. 7:00. Don't be late." The boy wonder looked outraged and Severus gave him an exasperated sigh and a ferocious stare. The Potion's Master waited until the light bulb turned on and Potter's eyes widen with understanding before releasing the boy. Potter nodded, and much to Severus's relief, turned and walked away.
Severus retreated back to his rooms, eternally thankful that it was Saturday. He had fallen asleep in his chair last night, which explained his sore back. The mostly empty bottle of Firewhiskey he'd found on the floor this morning explained the headache. The fact that he had spent the morning in discussion with Draco and the Boy Who Bloody Lived didn't help either. Overall his Saturday was off to an infuriating start.
The Potion's Master groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. For a moment he considered opening another bottle of Firewhiskey but decided a second later that 10 in the morning was far too early to begin drinking. Instead he grabbed a book randomly from the multitude of book shelves lining the walls and sat down in his chair, trying to salvage what was left of his Saturday. It was not meant to be though. No sooner had he opened the book than the chimes on his fireplace rang out. With a curse Severus removed the wards and was greeted by an all together too happy Headmaster's head perched in the fire.
"Severus, my boy. Are you exceedingly busy?" Severus glared at the Headmaster and desperately wished he could say yes. Instead he set his book aside and responded to the annoying old coot.
"No. Did you want me to come up?" The Headmaster smiled widely and nodded enthusiastically. "I'll come through the floo if it's all the same to you," Severus added, not relishing the idea of climbing the multiple flights of stairs to the old man's office. The Headmaster promptly pulled his head from the flames. Severus rose and, with a curse for old men who had nothing better to do than bother people, threw a fistful of powder and flooed to the Headmaster's office.
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Stumbling slightly as he exited the fire, Severus took in the office he had visited so many times before. His eyes were inexplicable drawn to the table that had once held several gaudy silver instruments of unknown purpose. Severus had heard that Potter had lost his temper for the first time with the Headmaster, at the end of the previous school year, upon hearing the prophecy. Until that moment he was loath to believe that the Boy Who Lived would utter an angry word in the presence of the great Albus Dumbledore. Seeing the instruments missing, and thus proving the Golden Boy's defiance, Severus grudgingly allowed yet another layer of respect for Potter build up in his mind. Gather his wits about him he turned his gaze to the twinkling blue eyes, waiting patiently behind the desk.
"You wanted to speak with me Albus," Severus inquired as he lowered himself into a chair opposite the old man.
"How has your morning been Severus?" The maddeningly happy old man always had a knack for pinpointing the exact thing that would cause Severus the most annoyance. Severus sighed and humored the Headmaster, hoping if he cooperated Albus would cut to the chase.
"As well as can be expected I suppose." The silver haired wizard nodded before leaning forward, asserting the importance of his next statement. Severus sighed with relief that the Headmaster wasn't going to prolong his agony.
"You spoke with Mister Malfoy this morning, correct?"
"Yes. The attack on Hogsmead was the idea of a few students. They didn't have orders nor permission to attack the village." Albus nodded, bringing a hand to his silver beard in contemplation.
"Was Mister Malfoy a participant?"
"No. But he has been given a new assignment." Albus motioned for Severus to explain. "He's been ordered to get close to Potter, to retrieve information from him."
"Well then we'll have to set it up…" Severus interrupted the Headmaster.
"I'm on it. I think I'm going to ask for Draco's help in Potter's lessons." The Headmaster grinned uncontrollably and Severus groaned.
"So you have decided to help Harry after all." Severus looked away, deciding that making eye contact with the Headmaster at this moment wouldn't be in his best interests.
"You already know what I'm going to teach him Albus. The brat doesn't stand a chance with out some sort of knowledge of the things he'll be facing." He dared a glance back at the no longer beaming face. Albus stared at him with a contemplative look and Severus mentally prepared himself to defend his plan. To his immense surprise it wasn't needed.
"I understand, my boy. Be careful. Watch him closely." Severus nodded before adding one last thing.
"I also can't guarantee the success of the lessons. I really don't know if they'll last the week." Albus beamed at him again.
"Get to know him. You may find you have more in common than you think." Deciding that the Headmaster had officially stopped making sense Severus rose and bid him farewell. Severus finally retired to his rooms, deciding 10 in the morning wasn't too early for Firewhiskey after all.