"… if I hear one more complaint, I'll make it fifteen inches, Mr Smith," McGonagall said, as the class started to throw things into their bags. Smith fell silent at once, but Harry saw him make a rude gesture at McGonagall's back as he left the room. "Mr Potter, a moment, if you would." Ron hovered, but Harry shook his head, and Ron left. Harry heard his voice, and those of Draco and Hermione in the corridor outside. Clearly, they were waiting. "You have your father's talent for my subject," McGonagall said, examining the hedgehog-turned-hairbrush he'd made that lesson. He was quite pleased with the way it had turned out. With a complicated movement of her wand – that Harry couldn't quite follow – it was a hedgehog again.

"Did you want me to do it again?" Harry asked.

"No," she said, quirking her eyebrow at him.

"But you just-"

"You don't think we let students transfigure animals into various inanimate objects and then just leave them, do you?" In truth, Harry had never thought about it. While he tried to come up with an answer, McGonagall put the hedgehog back into the crate it had been in at the beginning of the lesson. "How is your arm?"

"Loads better," Harry said, wriggling his fingers for her benefit.

"Were you awake when we brought Mr Creevey in? The whole time?" Harry nodded, and McGonagall bobbed her own head. "I thought as much." Harry wasn't sure what to say. "You heard what he was doing when he was found?"

"Coming to visit me," Harry said, sure that somehow, this was going to end with him in trouble; McGonagall looked as serious as he had ever seen. She didn't say anything. "That's what you said to Madam Pomfrey, anyway."

"It is." She watched him through beady eyes, apparently searching for something. It was unnerving. Her nostrils flared, not, Harry didn't think, out of anger, but rather because she was smelling him.

"I didn't ask him to, if that's what you're thinking," Harry said slowly, not sure what she wanted from the conversation. "I-"

"It's not what I was thinking," McGonagall said. "No, Potter, I want to make sure you aren't doing something foolish, like blaming yourself."

"For Colin? Why? I didn't know he was going to-"

"Precisely." McGonagall scrutinised him for a moment more, and then nodded. "I'm glad. The current situation is grim enough without students – young students, at that – placing blame on themselves, where it is undue."

Bewildered, but touched that she'd thought to check on him, Harry let her shoo him off so that her sixth years could come in. Wood clapped Harry on the shoulder and asked about his arm, and Percy huffed at them for blocking the doorway, and then squeezed past to sit by a Ravenclaw girl.

Harry escaped into the corridor, where his friends were waiting.

"What was that about?" Ron asked.

"She thought I might be blaming myself for Colin," Harry said, as the four of them headed upstairs, to the common room. Unspoken between them, but obviously all in their minds was that Hermione was muggleborn, and Harry noticed that they'd managed to put her in the middle of their little group. He wondered if she'd realised.

"You're not, are you?" Hermione asked at once. "Because that-"

"I'm not, Hermione, relax," Harry said, bumping her shoulder. She smiled at him, looking sheepish.

"Nothing?" Ron asked a few moments later, looking at Draco, who'd been silent.

"What?" Draco asked.

"No snide comment about this being the first time Harry hasn't blamed himself? Are you feeling well?"

"I'm fine, thank you, Weasley," Draco said, adjusting his bag. His eyes met Harry's for just a moment, and then they dropped to the floor. He and Harry had told the other two about Dobby after their conversation outside the day before, and Draco had been aloof ever since, despite Ron and Hermione handling the news as Harry had expected; with surprise and interest, but not with blame directed at Draco.

"Nah, you're not," Ron said.

"I am, thank you," Draco snapped.

"No, you're not," Ron said again. "You're expecting one or all of us to tell you to shove off at any moment." Harry shared a glance with Hermione, and unspoken between them was the agreement to let Ron handle this one.

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco said, but his face was pink, and he wasn't looking at any of them.

"Good," Ron said. "'Cause that'd be stupid."

"Stupid's a bit harsh, Ron," Hermione said. "Maybe something like silly, or-"

"My house elf tried to murder Potter!" Draco exploded, rounding on the three of them. "I can understand him being forgiving about it, because he's a lunatic with absolutely no concern for his own wellbeing – no offence, Potter – but you two? You, Granger?"

"Do you want us to be angry at you?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"No!" Draco snarled, and then stormed back the way they'd come. Harry made to go after him, but Hermione caught his sleeve.

"Leave him," she said. "It's not us he's really worried about, I don't think."

"Of course it is," Harry said. "You heard-"

"Harry," Hermione said, shaking her head, "it's one thing to know his Father served You-Know-Who years and years ago, and to hear him say nasty things about muggleborns-" An ugly expression settled on her face. "-but it's quite another for him to realise that Mr Malfoy might be involved somehow… that he might know something that could stop all of this, but won't share it."

"Ah, Draco," Hydrus said, seeming pleased that he'd come. "Won't spare me a sideways look, except for when I'm on my deathbed? Or maybe this Chamber of Secrets business has made you realise it's only a matter of time before we're the only friends you'll have left?" Daphne and Pansy, who were in seats by the bed, scowled at Draco. Zabini stood up and offered Draco his chair.

"I don't-"

"Really, I insist." Zabini all but pushed Draco into it. Pansy inched away from him.

"Gryffindor's not contagious," Draco said, "don't worry."

"Are you leaving, Blaise?" Daphne asked, looking put out.

"Madam Pomfrey said he could only have three visitors," Blaise said.

"Oh, who cares what she thinks," Hydrus said, rolling his eyes.

"What are you going to do, then?" Pansy asked.

"Anything but this," Zabini said. The girls tittered, and Hydrus looked amused, but Draco didn't think Zabini was joking. He found himself hiding his own smile.

"So what do you want?" Hydrus asked Draco.

"To make sure you're all right," Draco said. "Potter had to regrow his arm, and he's out already, whereas you-"

"Worried, are you?" Hydrus sneered. "I can hardly blame you, it was an awful injury. Madam Pomfrey thinks I'm lucky to be able to keep my leg." Pansy sighed and patted Hydrus' hand. Draco tried not to roll his eyes. "And the company here isn't great. I had Potter yesterday, thank Merlin he's gone, but now I've got the mudblood." He waved his arm at Creevey, who was lying, frozen, a few beds down. Draco's stomach twisted. "It's not all bad, though; whenever my leg's hurting, I just look at the stupid, scared expression on his face, and it makes me feel better." On cue, the girls laughed and Hydrus smirked, apparently pleased with himself.

"I hope Granger's next," Daphne said dreamily. Draco thought he might have cracked a tooth; he was biting down so hard to keep from saying anything. And he was abruptly grateful for the chair; it gave him something to hold onto so that he didn't launch himself at any of the others. "Oh, sorry, Draco. I didn't mean to offend you. She's a friend of yours, isn't she?"

"Yes," Draco said, not trusting himself to say anything else.

"Pity," Daphne said. "Still, I suppose she can't help that she was born an abomination."

"I suppose not," Draco said, through clenched teeth. "Still, it makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

"What does?" Daphne asked warily.

"Well, you were born with arguably some of the purest blood of our generation," Draco said. "But somehow you've grown into a cow rather than a witch, so it makes me won-"

"Why, you little-" Daphne was on her feet, reaching for her wand, when Madam Pomfrey's door opened.

"Miss Greengrass?" she said. Daphne sat down again at once, her face bright red with anger. Draco smirked at her. "And- Mr Malfoy, when did you get here?"

"Doesn't matter," Draco said stiffly. "I'm leaving."

Severus had just opened his mouth to subject Hydrus to the most scathing reprimand the boy would ever have heard; Quidditch injury or not, Hydrus ought to know better than to sit in Severus' chair. Then the situation caught up with him. Hydrus wouldn't dare sit at Severus' desk, but, more importantly, Hydrus was still in the hospital wing; Severus had been to visit him at lunch.

"Draco," Severus said, and Draco gave him an unhappy look, and made no attempt to move. "My office was locked."

"It wasn't," Draco said. "Your quarters are locked, so I had to wait here." His eyes flicked down to the desk. "You can be very unkind to Longbottom."

"Enough." Severus flicked his wand and the half-marked stack of assignments vanished; they'd be on the coffee table in his quarters now. The chair Draco was sitting in bucked – not hard, but just hard enough – and Draco leaped out of it. Severus swept past him and sat down. His hands went to the knee of his bad leg; it was always sore after a full day of lessons. "Why aren't you in Gryffindor with the rest of your classmates?"

"You said I could come here when I needed to," Draco said, staring at his feet.

"I said you were welcome to come to me," Severus said. "I have never given you leave to sit in my office and read through my marking. How long have you been here?"

"Since the lesson ended." Not long then. Severus eyed Draco again, but his expression was hard to read. Severus wasn't sure if he should be proud, or annoyed; he was the one who'd taught Draco to keep his face clear. Severus took a stab in the dark.

"Madam Pomfrey told me this afternoon that your brother should be up and walking again tomorrow-"

"What about Creevey?" His voice was bitter and unfamiliar. "Will he be up and walking tomorrow?"

"No."

"Didn't think so." Draco fell silent again, his expression dark.

"Professor Sprout is tending the mandrakes as best she can," Severus told him. "They'll be mature in a few months-"

"Months?" Draco asked. "Why don't you just buy mature ones, if-"

"Because mature mandrakes are dangerous," Severus said. "You should know that from Herbology; I know Sprout covered it." Draco just waited. "They're sold as weapons, mostly, for a significant amount of money, and the people that sell them won't have anything to do with the Ministry or St Mungo's, who were only able to supply us with juveniles."

"There isn't anything in storage?"

"Some basic mandrake restoratives, yes," Severus said. "Unfortunately, there are differences between that – which can be used for a wide range of ailments – and what Mr Creevey will require."

"Figures," Draco muttered.

"Were you close with Mr Creevey?" Snape asked. He'd seen them all sitting in the same group during meals, but assumed it was just because both of them wanted to be near Potter.

"Closer with him than the rest of the first years, other than maybe She-Weasley," he said. "But not really."

"Draco," Severus said, sighing. "I am not a mind reader-"

"Liar." Draco arched an eyebrow at him, and Severus clasped his hands together so he wouldn't be tempted to throw something at the boy.

"Are you here for aid or advice, or just to pester me?" Severus asked.

"I haven't decided," Draco mumbled. Then, about a minute later, "Daphne Greengrass is a cow."

"As her teacher and Head of House, it's not appropriate for me to agree or disagree with you," Severus said. "What did Miss Greengrass-"

"And Hydrus is a git."

"Did he-"

"And then there's Granger-"

"What about Granger?" Severus asked wearily. He hadn't seen Draco this worked up in a long time, and was finding he hadn't missed it; the boy could be very dramatic.

"How could she not blame me, if she's the next victim?! How can she not be wary?! How can any of them be all right with-"

"Do you mean to tell me it's you behind this Chamber business?" Severus asked.

"Of course not!" Draco said, looking offended. "Do you really think I go around attacking cats and muggleborns in my spare time-" Severus noticed his hand was resting on his scar, the scar Severus had given him as a reminder of the differences – or rather, lack of – between muggleborns and purebloods.

"Draco," Severus said, frustrated. "I'm struggling to understand why – if you're not the one who opened the Chamber – people would blame you."

"Because- Father-"

"Lucius no doubt thinks this whole mess is the best thing that's happened since Hydrus made the Quidditch team," Severus said, waving a hand. It wasn't tactful, but it was true. "You on the other hand, ought to know better-"

"I do! But he's my father-"

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so'?" Draco asked. "He's my father, and he doesn't care, and neither does Hydrus, so someone has to, and that leaves me!"

"Do you mean to tell me that you want your friends to be upset with you, because you're the only Malfoy that will care that they're upset?"

"Exactly! And then I can apologise-"

"Would you believe that despite my morning class with the Hufflepuff first years, and my lunchtime spent marking those essays you were reading over earlier, that what you've just said to me is the stupidest thing I've heard all day?" Severus said, able to feel a headache brewing behind his eyes. Draco seemed to shrink. "Never apologise for other people, Draco, it's a waste of time and effort."

"But someone-"

"Someone does not have to," Severus said, pre-empting his godson's next thought. "Perhaps they should, perhaps it's not fair that they don't-"

"But life isn't fair?" Draco guessed.

"Precisely," Severus said. He wondered if he was a bad person, for teaching a twelve year old to expect that all would not be well and fair, but Draco nodded seriously, and made no attempts to continue with his warped rationalisations.

"I'm sorry," Draco said at dinner. He'd come downstairs with She-Weasley, who he'd found asleep in the common room; she was already seated next to Weasley, but Draco hadn't sat yet; he wanted to make sure he was still welcome, after the fuss he'd made that afternoon.

"For what? Sit down, Draco," Granger said. "You're blocking the aisle. Juice?" She thrust a goblet of juice at him, and Draco took it as he sat. Potter sniggered from Granger's side. "Juice, Ginny?" She-Weasley shook her head, and pushed her peas around her plate.

"Not hungry?" Weasley asked her, though his own disgusting mouthful. Potter sniggered again, but Granger was pulling a face.

"I had a big lunch," she said.

"Oh," Weasley said, nodding. Draco caught She-Weasley's eye, and frowned; while he hadn't actually looked for her, he didn't remember seeing her at lunch, and Draco liked to think he was observant. She-Weasley glared at him, as if daring him to contradict her. Draco took a sip of juice, and decided to let the matter slide for the moment. "So where'd you vanish to this afternoon?" Weasley asked Draco.

"Snape," Potter said, without looking up from his dinner.

"How-"

"It's where you always go," Potter said, shrugging. "I take it what he said helped, given you're here and making eye contact?"

"And not shouting," Granger said, with a small smile.

"Shut up," Draco said, but he had to work hard to keep his smile off his face.