Chapter 14 :

Snape was more than a bit paranoid lately. Ever since his last class with the fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors a few days ago, he couldn't help but being jumpy about everything. Dark corners, the sound of his own steps in an empty corridor, dunderheads talking behind his back, Dumbledore smiling... He saw the world with his eyes painfully opened and every little thing was a source of suspicion. He knew that by his pettiness he had made a target of himself. Just like he knew that this hunter preying on him was only awaiting a last mistake from his part before ripping him to shreds.

His coworkers were getting worried and even the students had started to notice something was off. It wasn't his fault though. For all that Snape's body language was an impregnable fortress of no emotion, his cloak's billowing betrayed his uneasiness. It was always the small details...

He sighed.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see Nott looking at him with that unnatural shine of hunger. The younger Slytherin cared little for all his Head of House had done for the common good of the Snakes. It didn't matter to that ungrateful little pest what Snape had accomplished for the sake of their World either. Youngest and Greatest Potion Master since the establishment of the Guild, Snape had improved the Wolfsbane Potion, surpassed the Sleekeazy Hair Potion of Fleamont Potter and even invented an array of Homecare Potions that made the life easier for thousands of lazy matrons with too many children to be sane. But Nott didn't care about that. At all. All that wicked demonic spawn of a mistake had in his eyes was the Potter brat. The same brat that Snape had insulted in a poor attempt of overcoming his trauma.

So yes, He, Severus Snape, was walking on eggshells, always looking behind his shoulder and treating that idiotic James Potter's attempt at an offspring with way more neutrality than was bearable. He was a cornered beast. And like any cornered beast, he was going to play dirty. He wasn't above taking points from Slytherins or... giving point to Gryffindors if he had to. And today would be a test of patience and willpower, two hours of teaching the class he now dreaded so much. He couldn't mess this up.

The determined Professor put his hand on the handle of his classroom's door. He was still trembling.

In the corridor, in the middle of his classmates, the young Malfoy looked at his girlfriend sniping Granger's poor choice of clothes like she had the potential to explode on him. Weasley was nearby, growing red in anger and repeatedly glaring at him in a dangerous warning. Most would think that the danger was the Weasel's rage, or even Potter's impending wrath... But no. Draco knew it in his very bones : the real danger was Nott's impatience. Gulping in apprehension, he had no choice but to stop this disaster from turning into a raw murder scene :

"Pansy" he gently reprimanded his girlfriend. "Stop it. It's not worth it."

"You are right Draco-sugar" she sneered. "The mudblood is not worth it."

That- That wasn't what he meant at all ! And did she have to add the M-word !? Couldn't she see the sheer agony coming her way ? Seriously, Woman ! Where was the famed Slytherin's self-preservation skill right now ?! He dared to risk a glance at his best friend and... Shit, Theodore was frowning.

Honestly with Potter looking so upset, it was a wonder Pansy was still in a breathing state. Draco had to defuse the situation immediately. And since he had a minimum of survival instinct, he was also going to shift the blame on the convenient scapegoat that was now Pansy Parkinson. It was going to kill their relationship but perhaps was it for the better. Especially if she persisted in snubbing his caution and his efforts to keep her alive.

"Really, Pansy ?" He chided in visible contempt while rolling his eyes. "Resorting to toddler level racism, now ?"

"Draco... ?" She asked uncertain. "What are you... ?"

Ah. She looked like she was going to cry. It made him feel like scum. The young Malfoy sighed to reassert his determination. His relationship with Pansy had been- It had been good... She was cute, smart and sassy. She was loyal and willful. To be honest, she had the potential to be the perfect woman if she wasn't so dense. He didn't know if he loved her like she deserved, but he knew he was fond of her. Alas...

Draco dropped the soft hand he was holding, clenching his now lonely fingers. And as a toast to a Love now gone, he told her mournfully :

"You need to grow up, Pansy."

There. It was over now. He could only regret.

"Enter the class in silence !" Bellowed the Professor Snape over the tragic sound of hearts breaking.

Unknowingly to the bunch of overdramatic teenagers, the Potion Professor had heard everything and it had given him hope unlike any other. With Nott's interest in Potter, he wasn't the only one who had to urgently stop harassing the Golden Boy. The man was worried about his snakelings but he already had his hands full with his own survival. He had been counting on Nott sparing him from retribution as long as he didn't single out his enemy's brat anymore, but it wasn't a sure deal. How could he protect his little ones if he was himself a target ? Luckily, the answer came on a silver platter : his godson.

Draco was going to enter the classroom alone now, Pansy wouldn't be by his side anymore. As he walked toward a life of solitude, he suddenly felt a foreboding shiver running down his spine. He had a sinking feeling that shit was going to hit the fan.

He looked toward the Gryffindors, first suspects of every streak of bad luck that happened since he started Hogwart... But no. Appart from Weasley seeming satisfied of his sacrifices and Potter looking at him in wonder -wait what?-, there was nothing unusual on this side. The Slytherins then ? Neither. They were way too occupied at comforting Pansy and sending him withering looks. Wait... Why was Professor Snape looking at him like at a messiah ? Oh no... No, no, no, no... ! That greasy bastard better not do tha-

"I'm counting on you, Mister Malfoy" Discreetly said the Professor as he entrusted the very Fate of the Snake House to one overworked boy.

BAM!

Ronald scoffed when he heard the Malfoy's head hitting the wall : served the git right for refusing his alliance.

An : Did you note that when Snape thought of giving point to Gryffindor there was no plural ? LMAO It's a small detail but I proud of it.

Also, about Malfoy, it'll eventually get better after it gets worse, I promise. (can't promise the same about Snape for some time though...)