Draco had failed in his mission for food. He'd searched the pantry and kitchen cupboards and had not found food. Or that filthy creature. His stomach now rumbled forlornly as he sat pondering his options. Which were few.

He had no muggle money, so trying to find something in muggle London was out even if the thought wasn't so daunting. He'd found some wizard money during his scouring of the house, but trying to get to Diagon Alley and back with two bounties on his head was likely to end up worse than starving to death here. Only the house elf could come and go with any degree of safety.

Draco hated it. His life all but rested in the filthy hands of that aptly named kreacher. Who was still nowhere to be found, dammit. Surely he must be eating something. Yes, there had to be food here, just hidden.

With a swift leap, Draco pulled open the pantry door again. He knelt down near the dirty pile of rags at the bottom and started pulling them away. There had to be food here somewhere.

"What is you doing? No! No! Bad Sir, bad sir! Those are Kreacher's." Out of nowhere the small elf launched itself at Draco's legs. It tried in vain to pull at him.

"I'm hungry." Draco turned and snarled. "All I've had in the past three days is a bit of mouldy bread. I told you to get some food." As Draco turned back to the nest, kreacher let out a pitiful wail.

"Leave Kreacher's things!" The boy's hand closed around something wrapped in cloth, hidden at the very bottom of the nest. He pulled it out with triumph, too interested in it to notice how pale kreacher had suddenly become.

He pulled back the cloth and saw, to his disappointment, that it wasn't food at all. It was a large ugly locket, tarnished and scratched.

"What's a house elf like you doing with something like this?" Draco turned his attention to the trembling elf. It seemed genuinely scared. For a moment Draco felt a stab of pity for kreacher, before his stomach growled to drown it out.

"M-m-master Regulus gave it to Kreacher. For Kreacher to look after when he left." The house elf's eyes never left the swinging locket. Draco's Slytherin side had reared when he first saw kreacher's reaction, thinking he could use it to bribe himself some food, but watching the elf he felt something in him soften.

Kreacher wasn't his, he could chose to ignore every word Draco said. He might manage one meal by bartering with the locket but where would he go from there?

Draco felt very tired all of a sudden.

"Here." He held out the locket by the chain and dropped it into the house elf's trembling hand. "I'm sorry. Could you just get me some food?" At Draco's apology Kreacher finally looked away from the locket. If Draco hadn't known better he would have said he'd seen something soften in the house elf's eyes.

Without another word Draco turned and left the kitchen.

.

.

Harry Potter was having a bad day. And it only seemed to be going from bad to worse.

Professor McGonagall had cornered him after transfiguration to tell him that she had some 'concerns' over how often the quidditch team were training. Harry had to concede that yes, it was getting a little infrequent, but his life had gotten so hectic over that past few months that it had sort of fallen to the bottom of his 'concerns' pile.

She told him on no uncertain terms that, if Gryffindor didn't show marked improvement by the next match then she would be reviewing his suitability.

Harry didn't know how much Professor McGonagall knew of what had happened between himself, Draco and Dumbledore in the past weeks, but it seemed enough for her attitude towards him to turn icy.

He'd then rushed to meet Hermione in the library to work on the essay due in for Professor Flitwick last thing, and had ended up working through lunch.

During potions he'd been so worried about how Draco was getting on that he'd completely missed Slughorn saying he'd needed to use dry doxie venom not fresh, and ended up with a solid lump of goo in the bottom of his cauldron. Furious with himself, Harry stalked from the classroom and straight into a third year.

"Professor Snape told me I was to give this to you!" She squeaked before thrusting a scrap of parchment into his hands and vanishing. Hermione came out of the classroom door, clutching the last of Harry's things which he'd forgotten, to see the note burst into flames.

"The slimy bastard! He's just sent me a note saying I'm to come to his office for my detention at 5 O'clock. I bet he noticed I'd missed lunch! And when the hell am I meant to do this paper for herbology?" Strong gusts of wind started howling down the corridor.

"Harry. Harry! Calm down!" Hermione was looking at him, and she seemed scared. He could see several of his classmates glancing out of the door curiously. Ron was staring stoically anywhere else. "I can help you with the essay afterwards, and I'll save you some food. It'll be okay." She was talking very softly, as if worried he was about to lose it again.

"Sorry 'Mione. Been a bad day, and I've got a lot on my mind, you know." She smiled sympathetically.

"I know Harry, I know. Let's get to charms, we can worry about everything else after that."

.

.

Hermione was not having a great day either. She'd written to Viktor days ago, hoping he could shed some light on what little Kreacher had told them, and was yet to get a response. She was reluctant to tell Harry about it knowing he'd only worry more.

And then after potions she'd seen him lose control of his magic again. It was just like when they'd been in Defence Against The Dark Arts with Snape. And worst still, Harry didn't even seem to realise he was doing it. Hermione was certain he wasn't doing it on purpose, these violent outbursts were most unlike him.

They'd been through thick and thin, and Hermione liked to think that she'd always been there for her friend. But now she was at a loss for what to do, she was no expert on wild magic and had no one left in the castle she felt she could turn to and ask.

She'd just have to keep an eye on him and hope.

.

.

Harry's stomach rumbled forlornly as he raised his hand to knock on Snape's door. It swung open instantly and Harry was greeted with the hooked nose of his least favourite person.

"Potter." He drawled. Snape held the door open, but didn't get out of the way. Harry refused to duck under his arm in order to get it.

"Sir." Harry managed through gritted teeth. Snape was clearly waiting for Harry to come in.

"Let's not make this any worse than it has to be, hmm?" Snape was smiling, actually smiling.

You greasy, sadistic bastard.

"Tut tut Potter, that isn't very polite. Don't forget you're here because you couldn't control your thoughts. Now get inside before I hex you." Harry pushed Snape's arm out of the way rather than ducking under it, but entered all the same. "Sit." Snape gestured at one of the hard wooden chairs opposite the desk. Harry chose instead to flop into the wing-backed chair by the fire. He saw Snape's face twitch.

"Determined to be particularly ornery today I see. Fine by me, you're not the only one with a few stresses to work out. Legilimens."

Even though Harry was expecting it this time, he found it harder to resist. What Snape must have been doing in the classroom was weaker than this, more subtle. He felt as though his brain was about to pop.

Pictures of Sirius greeting him when he'd first been at Grimmauld Place. Leaning over the banister with Fred and Gorge and the extendable ears. Kreacher grumbling. The tapestry. Doxies in the drawing room. Image after image, all about Grimmauld Place.

Stop it! Stop it!

"You'll have to try harder than that Potter." Snape's voice drifted through the craze of his mind.

Mrs Black, screeching from the wall. The Bogart in the desk. George magicking food across the room and the knife nearly ending up through Sirius' hand. Ginny laughing at Tonks. The mardy painting in the room he'd shared with Ron. Mrs Weasly's cooking. Draco searching the cupboards for food.

The images suddenly stopped and Harry sucked in a deep breath. He felt dizzy.

"That's... that's not right. How can I remember that?" Harry gasped.

"How indeed. You've never been at Grimmauld Place with Draco have you?"

"Of course not, he's never been before."

"And yet you have a memory of him there. How curious."

Harry felt too sick to be curious. The dizzy feeling wasn't leaving, but worse than that was the way his heart felt. It ached as though Draco had just left all over again. He wanted nothing more than to leave this dungeon and find him.

"Here." Snape was waving some chocolate under his nose. Harry batted it away. "Eat it Potter, you're paler than Myrtle."

"I don't want it."

"Oh stop being such a stubborn brat. You're so like your father."

"Go on. Offend him some more. Give me a good reason to punch that greasy smirk off your face." Snape studied him for a moment, as if considering wether or not to rise to the bait. It seemed the opportunity was too good to pass up.

"You're braver than him, I'll grant. Your father wouldn't have turned to violence without the back up of Black. And never if your mother was around. He didn't want Lily to see his violent side." Harry leapt from the chair and tackled Snape to the floor. He went to punch Snape but got tangled in the man's billowing robes.

"Immobulus!" Snape's spell hit him hard in the chest. Harry felt winded, but struggled to draw in much air. Snape shoved him off and Harry's stiff body collided with the floor. The older man was breathing heavily. He pushed himself up and stared disdainfully at Harry's prone body.

"You want to know the truth about your parents Harry then I'm the one to ask. I have no issues with speaking ill of the dead, and I knew your mother better than anyone at one point."

Harry was still in the mood to kick and scream. He wanted to yell at Snape, tell him that he didn't believe him.

"Your father was a bully. He was stubborn. Once he'd set his mind on Lily he didn't lay off. She didn't even like him for a long time. Me and Lily were friends before Hogwarts, and remained friends until I was so pissed off I lost control of my words. I said something to her that I didn't mean because I was desperate to hurt someone after what your father did to me. I would have happily seen him dead, you know.

"It wasn't worth losing her too. You know how I felt about her; you entered my memories last year when I tried to teach you occlumency. Back then it didn't matter to me if you learnt it or not. I didn't care if the Dark Lord penetrated your mind again. But now it does matter. I won't let a Potter be responsible for the death of the only person left who matters to me.

"When Lily died, Draco was just over a year old. I lived for that child, protected him like I'd been entrusted to do when I was named godfather. I made sure he didn't grow into his father. I'm going to make sure you're foolishness doesn't lead to his death like your father's did for Lily.

"But let me get this straight with you Potter. I don't give a damn if you live or die. I don't even give a damn who wins this infernal war. I'm just going to make sure Draco makes it through alive. For him, and for her."

Snape pulled himself off the floor. He crossed the room and poured himself a generous glass of fire whiskey.

"Tomorrow, 5 o'clock sharp. Don't forget to close the door behind you." Then without a backwards glance Snape disappeared into his living quarters. Harry couldn't even glower at him. He still couldn't move. He felt magically and emotionally drained. But hey, at least he'd landed on the carpet instead of the stone floor. As Hermione would say, every cloud has a silver lining.

AN hello! Just before adding this latest chapter, I have had as many hits as words written in this fic. It seems crazy, 50k+ hits, but its a good feeling too. Thank you to everyone who is reading this. Fe x