Thick, white candles floated about the teacher's desk, illuminated the potions classroom with a warm, yellow glow. The air smelled of cut mint with a bitter tinge of dragon liver, and a flame would flicker occasionally—the only movement in the classroom.

Draco sat alone, hunched over a desk in the first row. Tears filled his eyes; out of embarrassment, anger, helplessness. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Professor Moody's taunting smirk, Talia's wide, scared eyes, the faces of people laughing at him as he bounced through the air…

With a swish of wind and the click of a lock, the old oak doors opened, and Isabella strode into the room, black robes billowing behind her. Severus walked in after her, closing the doors behind him and locking them tight. With a jerk of the head and a suggestive look, he silently told Isabella were her charge was.

Once hearing the doors open and close, Draco quickly brought his hands up to his face, brushing angrily at the tears that streamed down his cheeks. He sniffled loudly and squared his shoulders; there was no doubt in his mind that Professor Snape was back from wherever he'd gone off with Talia, but then a gentle, warm hand rested on his shoulder, and he knew that it was not his Head of House who stood behind him.

"Draco," Isabella said softly, and Draco quickly turned around in his seat, staring up at his godmother with wide, surprised eyes.

"A-Aunt Izzy," he stuttered, before clearing his throat and looking down.

Isabella looked away from Draco and over to her cousin, who was now seated behind his desk. Severus merely raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. He was leaving this situation up to her.

Isabella pulled out the empty chair beside Draco and sat down gracefully. Silently she wrapped her arms around the boy, pulling him against her chest. Draco stiffened for a moment, not wanting to appear weak, but this was his Aunt Izzy, and he knew that she wouldn't judge him. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her waist, and held her close, letting out a tired, ragged breath.

"If you were smaller, I'd set you on my lap," Isabella said lightly, running her hands through Draco's hair soothingly.

Draco scoffed, and Isabella rolled her eyes. She merely held him for a moment, humming lightly to try to calm him. She could feel him shivering, and his heart was racing. She was tempted to rock him back and forth, as she used to do when he was younger, but Draco was no longer a boy anymore, and she did not want to embarrass him further.

"Are you alright, love," Isabella asked softly, pulling away from Draco. She noticed that his face was pink, and his eyes were bloodshot—the boy had been crying, and it made Isabella's blood boil.

"I'm… fine," mumbled Draco ruefully.

"Are you really?" asked Isabella skeptically.

Draco hesitated, before mumbling, "… No."

"That man won't touch you ever again, you hear me," Isabella said softly, cupping Draco's cheek. "If he gives you anymore trouble, you come straight to me."

"Am I going to be punished for today?" asked Draco hesitantly, before quickly adding, "I wasn't really going to curse Potter—I was only joking."

Somehow, I doubt that, Isabella thought, but said instead, "I believe you, and no, you're not going to be punished—however, if anyone asks, you say that you missed dinner because you were given a detention, understood?"

"You mean if Professor Moody asks, don't you?" asked Draco with a knowing little smirk.

Isabella grinned. "Of course," she said haughtily, "now c'mon, how about I walk you to the kitchens and we get you something to eat? You must be starving."

"Alright," agreed Draco, rising from his seat. "Will Talia be going with us?"

Isabella sighed, "No. She's in bed right now—today took a harsher toll on her then it did you, I'm afraid."

"I tried to protect her," proclaimed Draco, "she didn't want Professor Moody to get near her, and I didn't let him."

Isabella smiled softly. "Thank you, love. Now c'mon, let's go get you something to eat…"