Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed Draco's robe, pulling him into the seemingly empty classroom without so much as a by-your-leave. He was thrown against a wall and the door slammed shut. Before he could say anything, Harry-bloody-Potter appeared out of nowhere and plucked Draco's drawn wand out of his hand. Where the hell did he get an invisibility cloak?

"Potter," Draco spat. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He pushed himself off the wall and straightened his mussed robes, determined not to let anything betray his sudden nerves.

The sudden grin that broke out across Potter's face was scarier than any reaction Draco had been expecting.

"Why, offering my services, of course," he replied with a mockery of a bow.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Potter shrugged. "I'm done with Dumbledore. He's a rabid old coot who won't leave me alone. I have no desire to be on the losing side. Surely you can understand that?"

Draco was momentarily taken aback. Potter, the Golden Boy, offering his services to the Dark Lord. Clearly this was some sort of trick. He'd have to tread carefully.

"And what makes you think the Dark Lord would want you?"

"It's not really your place to question his judgement, now is it, Malfoy?"

Now Draco was getting nervous. He didn't like the glint in Potter's eyes, nor the casual, yet clearly competently dangerous way he was playing with his wand. He had faced down Potter many a time, but the Gryffindor had never been so recklessly insane. Despite himself, Draco was feeling quite out of his depth, and didn't like it one bit.

He stared at Potter, trying to figure out what his end game was. Potter stared back, smirking all the while. This was nothing like Draco had ever seen in all his confrontations with Potter. And it was nothing he ever cared to see again.

"Fine,” Draco stated finally. “That's what you want? Come with me." He walked past Potter, calling on all his training as the Malfoy heir to exude a confidence that he wasn't quite feeling, confidence that he could turn his back on Potter without being cursed from behind. Before today, the thought that the Gryffindor Golden Boy would strike an opponent from behind without warning was laughable. Weasley? Sure, especially if mad enough. But Potter? Ha. However, Draco had been around enough dangerous insanity to know that particular glint in his eyes.

The curse never came, so Draco continued down the hall, heading for the dungeons. He heard Potter behind him, but also a quick glance proved that he had put his cloak back on. A sign of retained cautious sanity or of dangerous paranoia?

Finally, he reached the door he was looking for. " Auxilegeo " he whispered, unlocking the door. He almost sighed in relief when he saw his godfather flying through the door on the other side of the room. Severus stopped short when he saw Draco unharmed, but halted just inside the door.

"What are you doing, Mr. Malfoy?" Severus asked, his voice revealing nothing.

"We've got ourselves a new recruit," Draco answered, wondering wryly if Potter was waiting for an engraved invitation to reveal himself.

"And who might that be?" Severus asked cautiously, coming one step closer.

"Me." Harry threw off the cloak as he revealed himself to be standing next to Severus, his wand at his throat.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter?" Severus growled.

"Making sure you don't go running to Dumbledore like the good little spy you are. Your wand, please." He held out his hand expectantly, clearly pleased at having gotten the drop on his hated professor.

Instead of handing it to him, Severus tossed it on the ground, halfway between himself and Draco. Draco smirked. No one got the upper hand on Severus Snape.

Harry frowned briefly, but quickly turned his attention to Draco, keeping an eye on the wizard at his wandpoint.

"What? Not surprised that your precious Professor Snape is a spy for the Light? Not feeling even the tinsiest bit betrayed? Clearly I chose my Death Eater target poorly." He shrugged. “No matter.” Draco shivered slightly at the the teen’s casual manner.

Harry turned his attention back to Severus. "So, Professor, which master's orders are going to win out tonight?"

Draco inched forward, towards Severus's wand. If he could get close enough, he might be able to call it to him, through his familial bond with its master. But Harry was faster.

" Incarcerous !" he shouted, taking his wand off Severus's neck to point it at his classmate. That was his mistake.

Even as Draco felt the ropes wrapping around his body, he saw Severus draw his secondary wand and stupefy Potter, knocking him unconscious.

Severus removed both Potter's and Draco's wands from the unconscious boy before moving to retrieve his own and release Draco from the bonds.

Satisfied there would be no more surprise attacks, he turned to his godson. In the voice that made so many students quake with fear, he asked, "What is going on here?"

Draco took a deep breath, loath to admit how the Gryffindor had gotten the better of him, even to his godfather. But there was no alternative. "I was heading back to the dormitory from the library. Potter surprised me in the hall. He dragged me into an empty classroom, took my wand, and informed me that he was tired of Dumbledore and ready to join the Dark Lord." Severus raised an eyebrow at this and glanced at the boy, still lying in a heap on the floor.

"Go on."

"At first, I thought it was a trick. It had to be! But-"

"But?"

"But he reminded me of Aunt Bella," Draco admitted. “And Father,” he whispered, looking down at the floor. If anyone could understand what that meant to Draco, it was Severus. Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy’s respective brands of insanity were why Draco didn’t have the Dark Mark on his arm. With crazy on both sides of his family, he knew there would be no way he would survive under the Dark Lord’s attentions. But besides that, both of them had toyed with Draco enough throughout the years that he had a healthy fear of ever coming within the clutches of an insane wizard, even if that wizard was only sixteen.

He sighed, and looked back up at Severus, comforted to see the concern in his eyes.

“So you brought him to me? Good.” Severus sighed and turned away from Draco to consider the other teenager in the room. “Come on, let’s get him into my chambers. Can’t leave him here, that’s for sure.”

With a flick of his wand, Severus levitated Potter, while Draco rushed ahead to open the door that lead to Severus’s chambers. They couldn’t leave him in this antechamber, which was open to any Slytherin who needed their Head of House.

“Where do you want to put him?”

“I suppose the bedchamber would be best. There’s no one using it now.” Draco nodded and wove his way through the living room furniture towards another door. Severus kept a second bedroom for any of his snakes who needed a respite from the chaos of the Slytherin common room and shared bedrooms. Draco himself had stayed there, rather a few times in fact.

Severus followed him in, and dropped the Saviour of the Wizarding World on the small bed. Another wave of his wand and straps appeared around Potter’s wrists and ankles, binding him to the bed frame.

Draco watched nervously as Severus took a small bottle of Dreamless Sleep out of a cabinet. He ended the spell that kept Potter unconscious, and poured the whole contents of the bottle down his throat before the teen knew what was happening. Potter struggled weakly for only a moment before succumbing to the potion.

“There. That should keep him down for the night. Give us time to figure out what to do.”

Severus walked towards the door, and gestured for Draco to precede him out. Draco took one last look at the boy on the bed, then left the room quietly. Severus followed him out, closing the door gently behind him.

Draco sat on the couch across from the fire, noting the abandoned paperwork on Severus’s desk. Severus himself took the chair, running his fingers through his hair with an exasperated sigh.

“Why is it always Potter?” he asked, clearly not looking for an answer from Draco, who was wondering the same thing himself.

After a short pause, Severus asked, “What reminded you of Lucius?” This time, he was looking for an answer.

“His eyes,” Draco responded shortly. He licked his lips - a nervous habit he would never allow himself to succumb to in anyone else’s presence. “The-- the way he handled his wand. He was just playing with it, daring me to make a move. You know how Father likes to play.”

“I do.” Severus sighed and sat back in the chair. “What, precisely, did he say to you?”

"He said he was done with Dumbledore, that Dumbledore was an old coot who wouldn’t leave him alone. And that he had no desire to be on the losing side. He seemed to think that was my motivation, and would thus appeal to my sensibilities and encourage me to work with him."

“Did you believe him?”

“On the Dumbledore thing? Yes. Even you couldn’t fake that vitriol, Severus. On the losing side part? I have no idea. At this point, I couldn’t even tell you which side Potter was referring to. I mean, he clearly intended me to think that he meant the Light, but I have no idea which side he himself actually believes is losing.”

“Is there any chance it’s all an act?”

“If it is, he has no right to be in Gryffindor. No one in that House could be that good of an actor. In fact, I don’t know a single person in this school who could fake what he did. He was smiling the entire time. It was bloody unnerving,” he grumbled.

“So, there are two possibilities: Potter’s gone insane or Dark.”

“Or both,” Draco muttered.

“Or both,” Severus agreed. “How did this happen?” Frustrated, he practically leapt from his chair. “How in the seven hells did Dumbledore let this happen!” he exclaimed, pacing in front of the fire.

Draco was used to this sort of behavior from his godfather when faced with a particularly complex problem, and sat back to watch him.

After a few minutes, Severus clearly had come to a conclusion. He turned to face Draco. “Either way we can’t let anyone find out. Do you understand, Draco? No one must know. I’ll decide what and when to tell Dumbledore, but you are to keep quiet.” Draco nodded. He didn’t trust the Headmaster in the first place, and, like Severus implied, if he had been so lax as to let this happen to his most favored student, then there was no trusting him with the current scenario.

“At least it’s a Friday. I have two days reprieve from bothering with classes,” Severus said, with a glance towards his desk. "I feel like I’ll need at least that much time to figure out what we are going to do. His housemates will no doubt be looking for him, but I’m sure Dumbledore will assure them that Potter’s off doing something heroic, even if he himself has no idea what’s going on.”

Draco snorted at that. “I wouldn’t be too sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Golden Trio isn’t so golden, or really a trio, anymore. They’ve been at odds for weeks now.”

Severus was brought up short by this. Draco knew that he’d been so busy with his new position at Hogwarts that he hadn’t really paid that much attention to the little gang of miscreants. He had certainly commented often enough to Draco that, now that he didn’t have to worry about life and limb in the potions classroom, dependent on the intricacies of bench partners, he hadn’t concerned himself too much with the daily lives of any students but his own snakes.

“Weeks? Do you know what happened?”

“No particulars, of course. They came back from the summer at some odds, but seemed to be drawing closer to solve their problems, as Hufflepuffian as that is. Then Granger and the Weasel started dating and Potter started acting odd, and now they rarely speak. In fact, Potter seems to be cut off from most of the Gryffindors.”

“How astute of you to notice. Shame the Headmaster doesn’t seem to have. This is just the cocktail of pressure on Potter. Going from revered saviour to outcast must really have done a number on him,” Severus sneered.

Time was Draco would have sneered along with him, but he hadn’t been Harry Potter’s rival for almost six years without noticing a few things. Harry seemed to have lost the regard of his House, of most of Hogwarts, on a fairly regular basis. Feast or famine, that was Potter’s life. Not that it had mattered to Draco until now. Now there was reason for Draco to look back at those years and see the pathways that had lead to his rival’s current situation. Just as he had watched his father’s descent since the Dark Lord’s return. Just as his mother had told him of the days when her sister was, well, at least less crazy than she was now.

Not that he was really planning on mentioning any of that to his godfather, at least not at the moment. He loved Severus, but even he wasn’t blind to the man’s faults. Even with years of standing against Potter, Draco knew his anger would never match that that Severus had for Potter’s father, and thus the younger Potter.

He sighed. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to bring Potter here. Not that there was really anywhere else to go. But it would have been nice to have had the option. As a Malfoy and as a Slytherin, he liked having his options open. But here, there didn’t seem to be any others. Severus was the only one who could figure out what had happened to Potter--hopefully in time to take a stand against Voldemort, and free Draco, and the rest of the wizarding world, from his madness.

That was the only reason he cared, after all. If Potter was the saviour the wizarding world believed him to be, then Draco had to help him, or submit himself to either a long life of slavery or a very short life of rebellion.

“Is there anything else you’ve noticed?” Severus broke Draco’s reverie.

“Other than the discord in the lion’s den? Not particularly. I try not to pay too much attention to the Gryffindors,” Draco noted dryly. And he did. Try that is. Sometimes, he just noticed things. Little things. But, again, he wasn’t about to tell Severus that. None of them were pertinent to the impending sense of doom emanating from the bedroom behind him.

“If you think of anything, I want you to let me know. In the meantime, though, I need you to go back to your dormitory. And don’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“May I come back tomorrow?” Draco asked, trying not to plead.

Severus eyed him warily, clearly unwilling to further Draco’s involvement.

“Please? Severus, I--” Screw it! “I want to help. I--I need to help. Please.” Draco hoped his godfather understood what he couldn’t say. He was a part of this already, and damn if he wasn’t going to do whatever he could to change his future.

Finally Severus nodded. “You may. But you will do as you’re told. And don’t do anything to raise suspicion, understand?”

Draco raised an eyebrow, an expression learnt from Severus so long ago. Severus smiled, his posture relaxing for the first time that night, and Draco felt his own shoulders mirror them. Severus had the situation under control. As much as he could, at least.

“Apologies, oh Prince of Slytherin, for even implying that you would ever raise suspicion,” Severus said, pulling his godson in for a hug. That more than anything else revealed to Draco just how worried his godfather was.

Pulling away, Draco grinned back, and slipped out of Severus’s chambers, heading back to the Slytherin common room. Glancing back before slipping out the door, he saw Severus sit down heavily on his favored armchair and stare intently into the fire, trying to glean answers from its flames. One last look at the closed door hiding the Boy-Who-Lived, and Draco left.

He headed down the dungeon corridor towards the Slytherin common room. It was close enough to curfew that he hoped everyone would be in their rooms rather than the common area. The further he got from Severus’s chambers, and thus Severus’s assured demeanor, the less sure Draco felt about the whole situation. He was so unnerved by what had happened that he wasn’t even entirely sure that he’d be able to slip it past his housemates. More than anything, he was thankful that Sixth- and Seventh- year Slytherins got their own rooms, since, even though he was certain he could slip by the younger snakes unnoticed, if he went back to a room shared with his year-mates, he doubted they’d let him keep his mask long.

His steps slowed as he neared the entrance to Slytherin. He shoved all thoughts of the last hour (had it really only been an hour?) out of his mind, using the Occlumency tricks Severus had taught him, and settled his face and posture back into the one expected of Draco Malfoy.

Fortunately, there were only a few students in the common room, and they barely spared him a glance as he strode through, intent on getting to his room uninterrupted. Once inside, he quickly performed several locking charms on the door and collapsed on the bed in a very un-Malfoylike manner.

He stared up at the stone ceiling, contemplating the evening’s events, turning them over again and again. What had happened to Potter? As much as he disliked the fool, Draco knew that he needed to keep it together for the coming war. No one but Severus knew that he wasn’t nearly as loyal to his father as he appeared, and clearly Potter had counted on that loyalty. But why? Why did Potter want to be taken to the Dark Lord? Madness or darkness? Which made sense? Which one could they still work with? Which one might Severus have the chance to use against the Dark Lord, who was both mad and dark himself? Was Potter turning into another Dark Lord?

Draco took several deep breaths to stop himself from going down that particular path of thought. No sense in getting ahead of himself. He had to start at the beginning. But where was that? When had Potter started acting so odd?

As he had told Severus, Potter had come back from the summer acting slightly strangely. So something must have happened over the summer. Weasley and Granger must have noticed something, at least until they started dating. Was that it? Was Potter acting out because he was jealous? No, it had definitely started before that.

Draco closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the different situations he might have seen Potter in since they returned to Hogwarts. Not that there were many opportunities for the two rivals to interact. It boiled down to quidditch, Potions, and mealtimes in the Great Hall. And since there hadn’t yet been a quidditch match, and he hadn’t had the chance yet to scope out the Gryffindor team practices yet, that left two chances for observation.

Somehow, Potter had managed to get into Advanced Potions, where he was naturally fawned over by Slughorn - jokes, both of them. At least Severus was still tutoring Draco on the side, otherwise he doubted he’d be learning much of anything for his NEWTs next year. But that wasn’t the point. Potter. How had Potter been acting in Potions? He had been ignoring Granger, which was certainly odd considering she was probably the only reason Potter had survived in Potions this long. What would make Potter pull away from his saving grace in an advanced class? Especially since that had started even before Granger had begun dating Weasley. Perhaps that was one ticker in the insanity column.

In the Great Hall, Potter had taken to either not showing up for meals at all, or sitting near but definitely separate from the rest of his class. Even the Weaselette had stopped mooning over him. Trouble in paradise on that end? No, Potter had definitely been the cause for that rift, especially if the gossip was in any way accurate. But was the breakup for reasons of insanity or darkness? It had to be darkness. The Weasley family would probably try to cure him of insanity if they suspected it. But darkness would most likely cause Potter to withdraw from his friends, finally seeing them for the worthless Gryffindors they were. So that was a ticker in the darkness column.

So, both? Draco wasn’t sure which option was worse. Insanity, Severus could hopefully control or reverse. Darkness? Well, perhaps Severus could do something about that, seeing as how he had some personal experience in pulling back from that particular brink. But both? What were they supposed to do if the saviour of the wizarding world, the only chance Draco and Severus had at getting out from under the Dark Lord, was no longer a viable option?

Despite his racing mind, Draco eventually fell into a troubled sleep.

Chapter Text

“Severus?” Draco called out as he entered the man’s chambers the next morning. He was a habitually early riser, and, despite the hectic events of the previous night, had still managed to wake up before any of his House mates. Not that that was hard to do on a Saturday. He had been momentarily tempted to join them in having a lie in since he hadn’t had the most restful of nights, but couldn’t stand to not know what was happening in Severus’s chambers any longer.

“Severus?” he called out again, becoming slightly concerned when there was no answer. His godfather generally got even less sleep than he did, and was always up before the sun. Unless there had been a Revel the night before...

A scream tore through the chambers before Draco could finish that thought. It came again - from the second bedroom! Draco raced over and threw open the door. He was met with the sight of the Boy-Who-Lived screaming, struggling in vain against the ties that bound his limbs. Astonished, Draco looked to Severus, seated by the bed, a wan look on his face. Severus merely glanced at him, then turned his eyes back to Potter, who was settling down into what appeared to be a deep sleep.

Severus sighed, and stood up, walking over to Draco.

“Has he been like this all night?” Draco demanded. His godfather nodded wearily, still looking at the figure on the bed. “How is that even possible? I watched you give him Dreamless Sleep.”

“I can only imagine he’s managed to build up a tolerance to it, though how he’s gotten his hands on that much Dreamless Sleep, I have no idea. He certainly doesn’t have the ability to brew it, and Granger wouldn’t allow him to take this much. She’s fond of overstating such things in her epic assignments,” Severus noted, rubbing his face in an effort to wake up further.

Draco nodded mutely. Dreamless Sleep was addictive, every self-respecting wizard knew that. And the more one took, the less it worked, since dreams are vital to a mind’s wellbeing. But to build up a tolerance like Severus described, to be having such vivid nightmares that evoked such a physical reaction, Potter had to have had gallons of the potion over the last few months. Wizards had gone insane for much less.

As if reading his thoughts, Severus nodded and said, “Add a tally mark to the Potter’s-gone-insane column.”

Now that he was closer, Draco could see the strain the night had had on Severus. “How long between... episodes?”

“It’s varied, but I’d say it’s getting shorter. Maybe a half hour?”

“Is there anything you can do?”

“To wake him up artificially at this point would be foolhardy. All we can do is wait.”

“Then why don’t you go get some sleep? I’ll watch him for now,” Draco suggested gently. “I’ll come get you if he wakes up.”

“The wards will tell me anyway, but thank you, Draco,” Severus acquiesced. “The Dreamless Sleep will be wearing off soon. With any luck, he’ll stay asleep since he hasn’t truly been asleep this whole time.” Turning his back on Potter, he patted Draco on the shoulder and left the room.

Draco closed the door behind his godfather, realizing just how much additional stress he had added to an already heavy load for Severus to have given in so easily. He cast a silencing spell so that Potter’s nightmares wouldn’t disturb his godfather any more, though personally, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get those screams out of his mind anytime soon if it had been him there all night. Just the once had been enough. And yet, here he was, waiting for it to happen again.

He took Severus’s seat by the bed, and looked around the room, searching for something, anything, to grab his attention. His gaze inevitably wandered back to the teen on the bed, fast asleep. Almost unconsciously, Draco began inspecting him. Potter looked rather different asleep. Gryffindors were so emotional, he didn’t know if he had ever seen Potter look so calm, so at peace. Especially recently, if his recollections from the night before were in anyway accurate.

His atrociously curly hair even covered the scar on his forehead enough that, along with the relaxed face, Draco could almost imagine he was looking at a completely different boy. It helped that his glasses, which neither Draco nor Severus had bothered to remove, were now on the floor across the room, probably thrown off in one of his earlier fits.

Draco kept staring. Face to face with Potter, his thoughts from last night seemed more ludicrous. How could he possibly have gone Dark, especially with no one noticing until now, until Potter deliberately revealed himself to Draco?

But those screams... Another tally mark for the insanity column, indeed. Draco had been around enough insanity to agree with that remark. But if Potter was so far gone for Dreamless Sleep to not work, for him to confront Draco, to want to face the Dark Lord, then how could anyone possibly help him? The only insanity Draco was familiar with was the irreversible kind. The Dark Lord, his aunt Bellatrix - even his father was well on his way down that path, and would almost certainly be reaching the end of it soon, considering he was in Azkaban.

Suddenly, Potter’s face started contorting and Draco sat up with a jolt. Surely he hadn’t been staring at Potter that long? The thought passed quickly as Potter began struggling again. This time, he wasn’t screaming, but pleading.

“Please, don’t! I didn’t - ! Please! Please.” The boy’s struggles were different this time, too. Instead of being belligerent, Draco noticed that he seemed to be trying to curl up, to hide, twisting away from some unknown horror in front of him, yet stopped by the restraints Severus had placed on him. Yet another reason the boy in front of him didn’t seem to be the boy Draco had sparred with for the past five years. Who could possibly make the Boy-Who-Lived shrink in terror instead of stand up and fight like the Gryffindor he embodied? Or had embodied? Considering his aggressive behavior last night, what fear could pierce through the insanity that crippled his mind?

As before, the whimpers faded away and the boy fell back asleep. Draco sat back in his chair, trying to analyze this new information for all it was worth.  He and Severus would be having a chat when he woke up. His perceptions of the boy in front of him had rather violently changed the night before, and now they were in danger of being upended yet again. On top of the whole Gryffindor thing, If Potter was indeed as insane as Draco’s aunt and father, then there would be no force on earth that would scare him. Fear required sanity, required conceptualizing the possibility of harm. At least, as far as Draco knew, that was true.

Draco sighed. He was no mind healer. What was he thinking, that he could somehow cure the boy who hated him? What could he possibly do?

Then Potter screamed again, and arched off the bed as much as the restraints would allow. This time, without even thinking, Draco reached out to him, touching him on the shoulder gently. He knew no calming spell would work, and yet the warmth beneath his fingers and the instant effect it had on the other boy implied otherwise.

Draco lifted his hand from Potter’s shoulder when the boy's body fully relaxed, but then quickly replaced it as Potter’s face began contorting again. This he could do.

He sat like that for what seemed like only minutes, but could have been hours, just him and his former rival. He was startled by a clearing of the throat from the door, and looked up, snatching his hand away, to find Severus standing in the door with an impenetrable expression on his face.

Draco did a quick calculation in his head. Dreamless Sleep lasted for nine hours. He had probably returned somewhere between hours seven and eight, which meant Severus had only gotten about an hour of sleep.

“The potion should have worn off by now. You can leave him,” Severus said wearily. Draco removed his hand from Potter’s shoulder, and followed him out of the room.

Draco stopped briefly on his way out of the room to pick up Potter’s glasses from the floor. Not knowing what else to do with them, he placed them in a pocket in his robe, and continued into the other room.

Severus had taken seat at the small table in the main room, and motioned for Draco to sit in the other chair. He summoned a house elf and requested breakfast. The elf nodded and left for the kitchens without a word. She had served Professor Snape long enough to know he didn’t appreciate unnecessary noise, just results.

They sat without speaking until the elf returned with full plates and a steaming teapot. Draco thanked her, and set about serving both of them.

After a minute, Severus finally broke the silence. “How did you sleep?”

Draco snorted. “Better than you and Potter.”

Severus nodded. “Whether or not that boy is insane, he is certainly driving me mad. Did he say anything while you were in there?”

“Soon after you left, he started up again, but he was begging some--”

“Begging?”

Draco nodded. “He was begging someone to stop.”

“Did he give any hints who he was talking to?” Severus asked sharply.

“No. I presume he didn’t do that earlier?”

“He was just screaming earlier.”

“Just,” Draco stated, an eyebrow raised.

Severus gave him a tired smile. “Yes. ‘Just.’”

“Did he say anything earlier? Or was it always the wordless screams that I heard?”

“Nothing coherent.”

“But you think you know what he was dreaming about?” Draco pressed. He knew his godfather was holding something back.

“I may.”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know that you would want to know.”

“Severus, I think I have a right to know what the madman who attacked me has running through his mind. You know, in case he decides to do it again?”

“You don’t trust me to stop that?”

“Of course I do! But, Severus, I’m involved. You can’t keep me out of everything. I need more information if I’m to help.”

Severus put down his tea and looked at Draco silently for a moment. “Yes, you do.” Draco exulted inside. He hadn’t been sure his gamble would work. More likely than not, he had expected his godfather to insist that he take care of it alone, that Draco wasn’t ready. Not that Draco himself was sure of his own readiness for any of this. But he had to be. That much was clear.

Apparently, his godfather agreed. Severus sighed and folded his fingers together. “Last year, you recall Potter was taking ‘remedial potions’?” Draco nodded. “He wasn’t. The Headmaster had instructed me to teach Potter Occlumency. Suffice to say, those lessons did not end well.”

“Why?” Draco asked. “Not why they ended,” he rushed on, as Severus’s eyes had narrowed. “Why did the Headmaster insist that you teach him Occlumency?”

“Potter has a direct connection to the Dark Lord.”

This time, Draco couldn’t hold back his response. He gaped at Severus. “A--a direct connection? Through the scar?”

Severus nodded approvingly.

“But, how is that possible?”

“I do not know, though I suspect the Headmaster has his own ideas about it. Potter’s connection is what resulted in the events at the Ministry at the end of last year,” Severus said carefully. Meaning, the connection helped put his father in Azkaban, Draco thought grimly. He had a momentary flare of anger at Potter’s role in besmirching the Malfoy name, but that was quickly quenched by a queer gratefulness that Potter had had a hand in putting Lucius where he belonged. Draco still loved his father, or what his father had been, but he had no delusions about who his father had become, and what he deserved.

“So you believe that some of the dreams, the reason he was screaming, may be a result of that connection?” Draco finally said, picking at the suddenly unappetizing breakfast before him.

“It’s a theory,” Severus said agreeably, picking up his teacup once more.

“Then the begging?”

“Perhaps the Dark Lord realized he was there?” This time Severus didn’t sound so sure of himself.

Before Draco could respond, a chime sounded, and Severus practically leapt from his chair, and headed towards the bedroom that held a now-awake Harry Potter.