Chapter One
"If you plan to fool the Dark Lord you will need to do better than that," Snape stated dryly.
Graces didn't reply. She laid against the aged yellow linoleum of the floor, her fingers digging into her head as she tried to hold in her whimpers. Draco knew before it happened that she was about to be sick, but he made no move to help her. His own head was practically pulsing with pain from his last round with Snape. He feigned better than Graces did, but he had a feeling that the Potions master was being especially brutal with his sister's mind in an effort to dissuade her from her future marriage.
And that said something considering how harshly the Potions master had ripped through Draco's an hour earlier. Draco felt as if every corner of his head had been ransacked and torn apart until he was left foggy headed and cracked open for all to see. He prayed they were done for the day, that Snape would allow them an hour to lay in their dark room and somewhat recover before it was time to help with dinner.
Snape turned and glared at him as if he heard Draco's last thoughts. He probably did, now that Draco thought of it.
"You both need to work on building the walls of your mind up. No matter where you are, or how safe you feel, you should be actively ensuring no one can sneak into your head. It should be like breathing, just as necessary for survival. Do you hear me?"
Draco nodded, as did Graces though she still stayed on the floor. Her hands braced as if she were about to get up and then thought better of it.
"That is all for tonight. I have business with the Dark Lord. I have left instructions on how to make dinner, be sure to clean up after yourselves. I am not your mummy, nor am I one of your house elves. I expect you both to be in bed by the time I get home."
Draco nodded and was careful to not make any sign with his face on his displeasure on having to cook and clean. Living here with Snape was infinitely safer than living at home, and less awkward as well.
"We'll start again tomorrow."
"I can't tomorrow," Graces whispered, now looking up and lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the kitchen lights.
A heavy silence fell at her words. Snape's black eyes glared down at her and a moment later Graces turned away, hissing in pain.
"You cannot be this stupid."
"I'm not stupid, I'm in love."
"I don't know why I bother trying to teach you two. You'll be dead in a month."
Draco flinched at his words, wondering how much truth was in them.
"You could possibly make it through as a spy, if you weren't tied to such a reckless and silly girl."
Draco swallowed. "Please, Professor. Please," he whispered.
"Since you will be busy tomorrow come the afternoon I expect you both up early for your lesson," Snape stated in way of answer. "And do not think that I will be any less severe. If you do not want to be in pain I suggest you do better."
Snape slammed the door on his way out of the house, causing both twins to hiss as the sound reverberated in their head violently enough to hurt their teeth. Graces quickly went to shut the lights off in the kitchen, giving both of them a small amount of relief from the blinding light as their headache continued to intensify.
"I'm not hungry," she said quietly, lingering over the lightswitch.
"It's not always about you," Draco scoffed, looking down at the instructions Snape left for dinner. "Did you ever think maybe I am? Or maybe Snape will be when he returns?"
Draco began measuring out the spices that Snape had listed and placing them in a small bowl. He also had no appetite, but he wasn't willing to agree with Graces on anything these days. And sleep often proved to be worse for him than being awake. Graces silently joined him in following the instructions listed.
The nice thing about Snape was he was painfully meticulous. He listed instructions on cooking the same way he listed instructions for potions. What supplies you needed to lay out, what needed to be chopped, minced, crushed, etc. When Draco had first arrived at Spinner's End he had balked at the idea of cooking—especially when Snape made it clear he expected them to cook the muggle way—but now Draco felt he rather enjoyed it. Well, enjoyed the busyness of it at least. For a few hours during the day he did not have to think about the fact that he killed someone, that he was a spy, that he had publicly shamed his father when he refused to relinquish his position as the head of house at his return, and that his sister was about to marry Neville fucking Longbottom. Basically he didn't have to be reminded of how utterly fucked he was.
For an hour or two a day he was too preoccupied with cooking to think of any of that. It was beneath him, he knew that, but no one was around to witness it. So he swallowed his pride regarding that.
"I thought you weren't hungry," Draco murmured, as Graces began to check the list for what was needed in the fridge.
Graces just shook her head. "What do you want, Draco? You clearly wanted me to help, so I am helping."
"Like you ever do what I want," Draco muttered, moving past her for the garlic.
"Can we not do this again tonight? I can barely keep my eyes open, my head is throbbing so damn hard."
Draco didn't reply, but they finished the rest of the dinner in silence. Spaghetti. Graces immediately after finishing the dishes from their cooking left to bed without making herself a plate. Draco didn't much feel like eating either, so he ended up setting a warming charm on the plate he had made and set it out for Snape to eat when he got back. He looked out the window for a moment and the pit in his stomach for home grew a bit wider.
When he looked out the windows of the manor there were elaborate gardens, quiet sunsets, nature and with it this odd peace that Draco had always taken for granted. Even at Hogwarts the windows showed the forest and the grounds, but here it was rows of ill kept muggle homes and a river thats water was filled with trash and ran brown.
Nothing about Snape's home felt like a home, which the more Draco thought about it the more it bothered him. It didn't seem like Snape had added anything to this house other than the stacks of books, potion papers, and shelves of more books. Everything seemed to have been remnants from his parents and, well, it didn't seem like it was a happy childhood.
He remembered once his father had mentioned that Snape didn't come from the best of situations and Draco had always thought that he had just meant money, but it was clearly more than that. He sat on an old armchair in the living area and thought about what his mother would have done with a place like this. How she would have made it a home.
"I want to go home," he whispered in the darkness, the lump in his throat growing with the admission. He wondered if he would ever get to. The last time he was in the manor his father had returned and almost immediately Snape was taking him and Graces to Spinner's End. He had no idea what Snape had said to his father, but he doubted it was 'your children are spies for the order and I need to teach them how to guard their mind and read others for their survival'. No, Snape probably insisted for other reasons, but Draco wasn't sure what reasons he could have given that would get his father to agree that the two of them shouldn't live at the Manor.
"He wanted you out of the Manor."
Draco bolted up at the sound of Snape's voice.
"It's safer for you here. Even your father knows how temperamental the Dark Lord can be and did not want you in the crossfire, not to mention the other unsavory characters in the Manor at the moment. Wipe your face and follow me."
Draco did so, but awkwardly stopped at the threshold of Snape's bedroom, unsure if the Potions Master truly wanted him to come into the bedroom or if he was supposed to just wait.
"Mr. Malfoy, if you do not start shielding your mind I will ransack it until I know every embarrassing moment and experience of your very dull, superficial existence."
Draco flushed and took that as he was able to enter Snape's bedroom.
"Here." Snape handed him a small vial filled with some sort of milky substance. "It will ease your migraine."
Draco downed the contents and found the relief to be almost instant. He took a few breaths with relief and waited for the fog of his head to lift, but to his disappointment that did not improve. He thanked Snape all the same though and then stood awkwardly.
Snape's room was more depressing than the rest of the house. A bed, a nightstand, and books. It was clean but lifeless. Draco looked around thinking maybe there would be a picture frame somewhere, but there were none. A few potion vials and notes sprawled across a desk, but Snape didn't seem to have anything personal.
"Would you like to know what is the most interesting thing about your mind?"
Draco hesitated. He wasn't sure he really wanted to have this discussion with the Potions master. Snape had from day one been unrelenting on Graces and himself. He knew the things Snape had seen in his head, and while he had tried to hold some things dear to himself and keep some semblance of privacy, he had many times failed. Snape knew Draco's deepest desires, his biggest insecurities, and his most painful memories. He wasn't sure if he wanted to have a conversation with the man regarding his mind.
"You have one thing guarded so carefully I cannot get to it. In fact when I have gotten close you have pushed other things in front of it as though to distract me from it."
Draco said nothing. He knew exactly what he guarded that carefully and he was not willing to even think of it in front of a master Legilimens.
"It's not my secret," Draco murmured.
Snape raised a brow at that. "I see." Another long pause. "Mr. Montague has declined any lessons from me."
"I've been working with him."
Snape's eyes darkened. "You are not in a position to be able to do that. You are learning yourself."
Draco knew this to be true and felt a knot come to his stomach. He had tried in vain to convince Graham to practice with Snape, to come to Spinner's End, but Graham always refused. He was adamant that no one be allowed in his head.
"I've only been working with him on how to guard his mind, how to structure it."
Snape was silent for a moment. "I need you to begin guarding your mind as if I am a threat. You, for some ridiculous reason, trust me, and that is why I am able to rip so much from you. Guard the whole of your mind the way you are guarding Montague's secret."
Draco nodded, but he wasn't sure if he could.
"I am going to start teaching you how to aggressively invade someone's mind. The way I have been invading yours."
There was absolutely nothing about that statement that sounded appealing. Draco considered what that would mean to be in Snape's mind, to be digging around in this man's head. Snape was an exceptionally private individual and the thought of finding something that this man didn't want him to made his stomach turn. How would he react? He considered his other teachers at Hogwarts compared to him, if he found something he wasn't supposed to there would be repercussions.
He felt a nudge in the corner of his mind and before he could think his eyes shot up and met Snape's. A moment later the nudge was a sharp strike that Draco was surprised he was able to fend off.
"Much better," Snape nodded, taking a seat on his bed. "Though you must learn to control your facial expressions. I don't need to read your mind. I can tell you dislike the idea. You're too expressive, take a note from your father and try to be less so."
Draco swallowed. "It doesn't feel appropriate to be allowed in your mind, sir."
"No, I don't suppose it would. But it is necessary. You need to learn how to check others' minds just as much as you need to learn how to secure your own. The more you can check the minds of those around you, the better you can behave in a way that will allow you to survive."
He could see the point, but Draco still struggled with the idea of actually trying to invade Snape's mind.
"Will Graces be having these lessons?"
"Your sister is struggling with just how to defend her own mind. I do not plan on teaching her more than that."
"Is she really struggling that much?" Draco asked, unable to hide the fear in his voice.
Snape was silent for a moment. "I am interrogating you. You understand that, correct? The way in which I am invading your mind is how the Dark Lord would, should he suspect what you two are."
Draco nodded.
"Your sister can guard her mind well from the average Legilimens. But not from a skilled one. Not from an interrogation, unlike you, there has been nothing I have not been able to uncover." Snape scoffed. "Which is interesting because you both have built the manor as your protection."
Draco blinked. He had not known that. Graces and he never discussed what their mind was structured as.
"Why are you doing this? Helping us?"
Snape looked annoyed by the question. "I think that is obvious."
Draco didn't think it was. He did understand the practical reasons. If the Dark Lord discovered he and Graces were spies, it wouldn't be long before he discovered Snape's true loyalties. He would even discover that Dumbledore's assassination was all planned and that Snape was a part of that plan. Everything would be dismantled if he and Graces could not avoid discovery. One of them being taken down would lead to the loss of four spies for the order. He, Graces, Graham and the biggest loss: Snape.
But Draco felt there was more, or at least wanted to believe there was more. Snape had, after all, promised his mother to protect him last year. He was allowing him and Graces to live in his home. He felt there was a strange protectiveness with Snape, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe this was all for the war.
"Are you really going to allow your sister to marry Longbottom?"
"I don't think there is much I could do regarding that matter."
"There is plenty you could do."
Draco knew what Snape was referring to. Refusing her dowry, taking her vaults, forcing her into a marriage with no comforts from her old life. Draco could also refuse to be a part of the wedding preparations, like the meeting with the Longbottoms tomorrow. If he wanted to be especially cruel he could refuse to acknowledge there was a wedding at all.
But he would lose her. Graces had made her choice and she was choosing Neville. Anything he did now would just destroy what was left of their relationship, which was barely anything as it was.
"She's my sister," Draco answered, as if that explained it all.
"Perhaps if we spoke with your mother regarding the matter."
"No."
"You don't think your mother could dissuade her?"
"I don't think it is safe for my mother to know our true loyalties."
Snape seemed amused by this. "You think Narcissa Malfoy would not protect you?"
"I think Narcissa Malfoy would get herself killed trying to protect us."
Snape's amusement left his face for a moment, before becoming coolly indifferent. "Some would argue that is a mother's duty."
"I don't want to be without my mother."
"Everyone is without their mother at some point. That is life."
Draco bit his tongue at his reply. He would much rather his mother bury him than he have to bury her. He didn't want to know the pain of that loss.
"My mother stays out of this."
"Your sister marrying Longbottom is a mistake, a mistake that can be prevented. If not by you then by Narcissa. Are you truly so weak for affection that you would allow her and Neville Longbottom to bully you into—"
"You—" Draco stopped himself. He could feel hateful words on his tongue. You don't have a family. I don't want to end up like you. What would you know about affection? The list carried on, but something in his gut stopped those words from coming forward. He needed Snape. He kept his mind guarded, scared the man before him could read in his head the awful things he was thinking. "This is my family," Draco said carefully. "And I shall handle the affairs of my family myself."