Part Five

This is a crazy world
These can be lonely days
It's hard to know who's on your side
Most of the time

Who can you really trust?
Who do you really know?
Is there anybody out there
Who can make you feel less alone?
Some times you just can't
make it on your own

If you need a place where you can run
If you need a shoulder to cry on
I'll always be your friend

When you need some shelter from the rain
When you need a healer for your pain
I will be there time and time again
When you need someone to love you
Here I am

If you have broken dreams
Just lay them all on me
I'll be the one who understands
So take my hand

If there is emptiness
You know I'll do my best
To fill you up with all the love
That I can show someone
I promise you you'll never walk alone

Well if you need a place where you can run
If you need a shoulder to cry on
I'll always be your friend

When you need some shelter from the rain
When you need a healer for your pain
I will be there time and time again
When you need someone to love you
Here I am.

When upset, my mother turns to Dickens. Merlin knows why, but it's always been the case; whenever she and my father used to row, she would go off and lock herself in the toilet with A Tale of Two Cities and refuse to come out. So, naturally, as soon as she had got over the initial shock of what had just happened, my mother stalked off without a word to me or my father, grabbed an old edition of Great Expectations and slumped down in her favourite arm-chair with a scowl.

My father and I exchanged 'looks', both of which clearly said 'don't even bother trying to console her and do not expect tea tonight'. We had both learnt the hard way just to leave her alone when she was in this sort of mood.

We stood together, the need to speak was great but we were unable to express our feelings about what had just happened to one another. Although it had clearly upset my father as much as anyone else.

There was so much more I had wanted to say to Narcissa and to Draco too…although I can't think what I would've said that I hadn't already. But anything would have been better than nothing. I had, of course, always been very much aware of Lucius' temper and how unreasonable he could be, but never in a thousand years would I have thought that Narcissa could be capable of the same! She had always been so…so quiet and unobtrusive. Quite the opposite of how she had been today.

I wondered, with slight amusement, whether Lucius was aware of how forceful his wife could actually be at times…

I jumped- out of habit more than anything else- as I felt my father put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it, murmuring, "Sorry lad," with obvious awkwardness.

Just as when my mother had kissed me, I was taken aback with astonishment. Even though I knew that he was only talking about Draco and what had happened no more than five minutes ago, that word- earnestly spoken and evidently heartfelt- meant more to me than anything he had said to me in the last…eighteen years or so. A long time, anyway.

I nodded, unwilling to touch him also. "Thank you," I told him, looking at me feet. "For helping with Draco. I'm sure he appreciates it."

"Hmm."

My father's arm fell limply to his side and he sighed deeply with a shake of his head. "Funny little thing, that kid was," he mused. Then his black eyes turned to me with interest, "What're you gonna do now then?"

My eyebrow couldn't help but twitch with surprise- first an apology now an interest in my life…had I entered a parallel universe unknowingly?

"I have a job," I told him. "Teaching at my old school."

"The wizard one?"

"No, the muggle one." The sarcastic retort came automatically and my father's eyes narrowed. "Yes, the wizard one. I'm taking over as Potions Master and head of Slytherin."

I may as well have been speaking Portuguese as the only thing my father could say to that was, "Well paid?"

"Relatively speaking."

"Good for you, Severus. I'm…I'm glad you're making something of yourself."

"Yeah…"

Silence stretched before us, broken only by the sound of turning pages coming from the living room. I couldn't be bothered to even try to make conversation with a man who had, up to that point, made my life more than slightly unpleasant, and all I really wanted to do was to dash straight over to Malfoy Manor- for my own peace-of-mind as much as for Draco.

But that was most definitely out of the question. I hoped that Narcissa had calmed down. I hoped that Draco would be able to adjust to being back at home. And I hoped, more than anything, that Lucius would at least try…

But when I have I ever got what I wanted?

"Do you want to cook tonight, or shall I go down to the chippy?"

My mother had not left her chair and was only halfway through her book, so we had been banished to the kitchen. I had already drafted several letters- all of them pointless, meaningless and downright ridiculous. I had no idea what I wanted to say, what point I was trying to make or even what tone I wanted it to take.

"I'm not cooking," I said flatly, throwing my pen down in disgust. "And whenever you go, you always come back with an impending hang-over instead of food. I'll do it." I unhooked my jacket from the back of my chair. "Make sure mum's okay."

As is often the case, a cold blast of night air managed to clear my head. I trudged along the river, hands thrust deep into my pockets with my collar pulled up around my neck.

My problem, I realised as I looked down at the grimy water, is that I was trying to be too profound, too deep, about the whole situation, when in fact something much simpler would be the most effective and the most useful.

I had been trying so hard for so long to say precisely the right thing, that common sense had completely eluded me!

My dearest Draco,

I hope that you are okay and that you are settling in well. Your mother promised me- of her own accord, I hasten to add- that she will look out for you and try harder to protect you from your father. I suggest, however, that you regularly remind her of that as she may forget. On the subject of your mother, I am sorry that things got so out of hand this evening but I assure you that it had nothing to do with you. It was simply a disagreement.

My parents are very upset that you had to leave so quickly as they both care very much about you and would have liked the chance to say goodbye properly. If you ever need something and, for some reason, can't get in touch with me, they would be more than happy to help you out to the best of their ability and they have assured me that you are welcome at Spinner's End any time you want.

I hope that things settle down with your father too. I know for a fact that he loves you very much and only wants what's best for you, even though it may not seem like it at times. I have seen you stand up to him, so I know you are strong even though I am aware that it will not always be possible to do so. However I think it would be a good thing to remind your father, on occasion, that you are your own person and not simply an extension of himself.

Do your best and work hard, as I know you will, and remember that I'm always thinking about you.

Mother sends her love and I remain, as ever, faithfully yours,

Severus Snape 'Sir'.

7th July 1988

Heavy curtains of thick, green material were drawn tightly over the diamond-paned window- prohibiting any light from brightening the small room. Neither sound nor movement disturbed the almost stifling stillness, aside from the slow, uneven breathing of Draco.

Staring listlessly across the room, he lay on his side- thinking about nothing and feeling nothing…everything would be fine, Draco had realised, as long as he didn't leave this room. No one could hurt him here.

The boy's eyelids drooped. He hadn't eaten anything since he had returned home and that, coupled with the fact that he hadn't slept properly for over a week, meant that Draco was completely exhausted and unfit to do anything more than lay there.

Moaning weakly from the pains that were shooting through his stomach and head, Draco rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. In the distance, he could vaguely make out people talking…arguing, even.

With a sigh, Draco curled up; he didn't care. All he wanted was to be left alone to sleep…

"You were supposed to be looking after him!" Lucius Malfoy thundered at his wife as they stood outside the locked door to the room in which their son had, somehow, barricaded himself.

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that," Narcissa shouted back furiously, "when I have no way of getting in? It isn't my fault he won't come out!"

Smouldering, Lucius tried the handle again; jiggling it violently. Then, when that did no good, he rapped loudly on the mahogany. "Draco! Open this door right now!"

Silence answered him.

Muttering all kinds of curses and swearwords, Lucius turned- seething- back to his wife, who folded her harms across her satin covered chest and looked back at him smugly. "Two days, you say?"

"Yes."

"And he hasn't eaten or drank anything in that time?"

"That is correct."

"Then why the hell didn't you owl me?" He was passed anger now. A dangerous combination of worry about Draco, fury at his idiotic wife and disappointment in himself for being stupid enough to allow Narcissa to take control boiled up inside him- making his jaw clench and his hands to ball into fists. 'Don't lose it!' he told himself severely.

"I didn't owl you," said Narcissa in an infuriatingly calm manner, "because I didn't want to worry you. You went away because you needed to calm down and I thought that Draco would come out eventually-"

"But he hasn't!" If he had sworn never to hit a woman, Lucius would have certainly lashed out now. "Goddamn it Narcissa! He could be dead in there, for all you know! Have you no common sense?"

Narcissa caught her painted lip sharply between two, pearly white teeth and looked up at her husband mournfully. "I'm sorry…"

"And why isn't he in his own room?"

She looked down at her feet, fighting back tears. Lucius had never spoken to her like this before…of course, she knew about his temper but never had she imagined that it would be directed at her! "I…I don't know," she whispered.

"Don't you know anything?" snarled Lucius, standing imposingly over her. "You're his mother! It's your business to know!"

Narcissa's pretty face crumpled. "Stop shouting at me!"

"Oh for god sake…" Lucius muttered irritably. "Look, if you refuse to be helpful, I suggest you go away and leave me to clear up the mess you've made."

Glaring at him, Narcissa sniffed, "Fine!" and flounced off.

Lucius scowled at her back, sincerely wishing that his wife hadn't decided suddenly to 'make an effort'. He liked her much better when she wasn't trying to do anything. When he was sure that she had gone, Lucius hammered once again on the door. "Draco? If you don't open this door in five seconds, I'm blasting it apart!"

"Don't even think about it, boy!"

Lucius whirled around to face the person who would dare to call him 'boy' and came face-to-paint with his great, great, great etc. grand-father Casuvius.

"I beg your pardon?"

Casuvius glared squarely down at his descendant. "Are you completely mundane?" he snapped at a very taken-aback Lucius. "You cannot go around exploding doors that are worth more than most properties! It's an outrage to even suggest such a thing!" The long-dead Malfoy drew himself up importantly and told Lucius, "You ought to be hung."

Lucius' eyes narrowed and his raised his pale chin. "Might I remind you," he responded smoothly, "that I could have you burned much easier than you could have me hung." He bowed sardonically. "Now, if you'll excuse me?"

Drawing his wand out of the inner pocket of his robes, Lucius and turned back to the door.

"No!" howled Casuvius, beside himself with hysteria. "Idiot! Dim-witted fool! Dolt who has hippogriff droppings for brains! Don't even think about it! Your boy's fooling around! He isn't worth it! Think of the expense!" The portrait was practically sobbing now. "The expense!"

Pointedly ignoring the abuse that was being hurled in his direction, Lucius raised his wand high in the air and- with some regret and an apology to his forbears- spoke the incantation, "Confringo!"

The door, much to Casuvius' dismay, was promptly blasted off its hinges in a cloud of dust and splinters. Covering his mouth with one hand and his eyes with the other, Lucius fought his way through the debris and smoke and into the room. 'Severus' room,' he realised with a certain amount of derision.

The sudden explosion hadn't fazed Draco in the slightest; his tired, confused mind could barely even process the fact that there was no longer any door.

Distantly, he could hear somebody speaking his name over and over…then a cool hand brushed away his damp fringe and was pressed against his burning forehead. A muffled order was spoken, then repeated- "Open your eyes for me."- Father, Draco realised wearily.

Desperately trying to obey, Draco struggled to force his heavy eyelids open. Strong hands slipped underneath his frail body and pulled him into a sitting position. Two fingers were placed gently beneath his chin and Draco's head was tilted up. The boy made no sound of protest nor tried to move away.

He was grey, Lucius realised with a sharp pang of worry, not simply pale, but grey…Lucius' eyes continued to sweep over his son; taking in the sheen of sweat on Draco's face; his dry, cracked lips; his vacant, lifeless eyes…

"Oh god, Draco…" he whispered, heart pounding hard in his chest. What the hell was the matter with him? Was being home really this bad? Did Draco hate it so much that he prepared to allow himself to become so poorly?

Fortunately, Lucius was able to curb the panic before it overcame him completely. "Right," he muttered to himself, gathering his wits. "First thing's first; Dobby!"

A loud pop! signalled the arrival of the house-elf- an odious creature who Lucius despised whole-heartedly but who was, regretfully, necessary.

The elf bowed deeply, long ears flopping onto the ground. "Master called?" it squeaked. "Master has orders for Dobby?"

"Obviously," snapped Lucius, wishing dearly that he had a free hand to smack the damnable creature with. "Bring me a goblet of water and something that's easy to eat."

Dobby cocked his head to one side. "Easy to eat, sir?" Dobby is not knowing-"

"Just do it!" Lucius bellowed, finally giving into the overwhelming temptation and lashing out with a fist. But Dobby was too quick and managed to disappear before it hit him.

His father's angry voice cut sharply through the low buzzing in Draco ears, awakening his senses abruptly; the room swam into focus and the sounds that had originally been no more than distant whispers were now as clear as a newly cut diamond.

Draco was now uncomfortably aware of his father's hands. One tucked around his shoulders, supporting his weight as the other stroked his hair methodically. The boy sighed a little; half of him was deliriously happy and longed to just stay like this forever. And the other half internally flinched with every breath that his father took and desperately wanted to wrench himself away from the hands that were holding him.

Not wanting his father to realise that he had awoken, Draco closed his eyes again and forced himself to relax. The pain both internally and physically had in no way lessoned and he was sure that his father would try to move him if he showed any sign of consciousness.

'What the hell am I going to do?' Lucius wondered fretfully as he absently stroked his son's damp hair. Never before had he felt so bloody helpless and downright incompetent as he did now! This situation was exactly what he had wanted to avoid; he had no idea how to deal with this kind of thing, there was no logic involved, no straightforward answer… his boy was ill, seriously ill and he didn't know what to do. To be quite honest, Lucius Malfoy had never felt so scared in his life.

And what on earth was he supposed to say to Draco if and when he did recover? It was only right that they should discuss it on some level at least, if only to ensure that it did not happen again. But what if here was the cause? Or Lucius himself? What then?

Why couldn't everything just go back to how it was, like he had planned? Everything was simple and everyone knew their place. That was how it was supposed to be when Draco came back; no time for reminiscing and regretting, no change in behaviour from anyone, just straight forward getting on with their lives. It hadn't seemed unreasonable to ask that, after all, didn't the so-called 'Professionals' always say that when a child has suffered some sort of trauma, it's always best not to treat them any differently?

Lucius could hear Severus' infuriating response to that- 'That's assuming that they were treated right in the first place.' Well, what did he know? Lucius thought with a vengeance. What made him such a bloody authority? It was all his fault this was happening anyway, if he hadn't messed around with Draco's head in the first place, Lucius wouldn't have had to fire him and so there would have been no need to bring William Southard into the equation and everything would be how it should be.

'And where is that bloody useless house-elf?'

As though hearing his master's furious thoughts, Dobby appeared out of nowhere, carrying a tray laden with a crystal beaker of water, three chocolate digestives, some sort of soup and a small bowl filled with ice-cream.

"Dobby begs Master's forgiveness, but Dobby could think of what was 'easy to eat'." The elf bowed apologetically, a good foot out of reach, and placed the silver tray carefully on the floor, his tennis-ball eyes never leaving Lucius as he waited fir further instruction.

Draco felt something cool being pressed against his cracked lips, accompanied by the order, "Sit up for me, Draco. You need to drink."

Grimacing with pain, Draco allowed himself to be propped up a little more as his father pushed the crystal more insistently into his mouth and tipped it slightly so that the water could trickle between his lips and down his parched throat. Coughing hard, Draco doubled over weakly as his empty stomach protested at having something forced into it.

"Better?" his father asked, rubbing Draco's back in a meagre attempt to make the boy more comfortable.

Gasping and spluttering, Draco shook his head miserably. "O-ow…"

"It hurts because you haven't eaten," said his father sombrely, handing the vessel back to the waiting elf. "You've made yourself ill."

The little boy gave a weak moan, unable to reply, and tried to hunch himself up in order to ease the shooting pains. But Lucius placed one hand at the base of Draco's back and the other on his shoulder and pushed him to sit up straight. "You must eat something," came the impassive voice. "And you cannot do it like that. Sit up properly."

Now that his father had realised that he was not at death's door, Draco noticed- with regret- that the care and gentleness with which he was being handled with, was now reverting back to the firm, slightly impatient treatment that he had come to expect from his father.

Draco managed to take the biscuit that Lucius held out for him and father and son sat silently as Draco nibbled on it tentatively. Now that his son was awake, Lucius couldn't bring himself to touch or hold the boy as he had done, it was too awkward. Too much against his nature…

'What happened?' Lucius wanted to ask. 'How do I help?' But he simply couldn't bring himself to say it. To ask would mean that he would have to involve himself and act upon it. Which, in turn, would mean that things would not be able to return to how it should be. He would have to change then nothing would go to plan…

As gently as he could manage, Lucius eased his little boy off his lap and stood. "Eat that," he told Draco, gesturing to the tray. "Dobby will help you come down when you are finished. We will speak then."

Then, refusing to noticed the disappointment in Draco's eyes, he turned on his heel and strode out of the shattered door

A/N: Greetings once again and Happy September 1st :P Good luck everyone going back to school and for those starting college (like meeee!) Well done everyone who got their results

I admit that I am more than slightly disapointed with the response from the last chapter; I worked very hard on it but only a few people bothered to review. But I'm not going to moan. All I am going to say is I write for myself and I update for you.

Let me know what you think- good or bad- and you will hold a special place in my multi-storey heart :)

Thank you everyone who has given me their time, chocolate mousse cake for you guys!

Hearts and huggles, Lily xxx