A [Friendly] Word of Advice.--DRACO

[Severus Tobias Snape]

Where was that boy? ANd what was he thinking? Didn't he understand that he could be trusted? THat he knew about the young Malfoy heir's task? And that he had sworn an Unbreakable Vow to his mother?

So many questions...Severus was not a man for questions. HE was a man for answers, a man of science...ANd he was also a SLytherin. A man of subtlety and subterfuge, of resources and resourcefulness, and a man of practicality and of decades of practice.

So, harkening back to the days ofthe first war, either spying for the Dark Lord or on him, Severus had concealed himself in a small alcove, not difficult when you were so thin, and in anycase, a disillusionment charm was easy enough.

He waited as most of the corridor cleared, those taking Potions OWL packing books away as they walked. THat wouldn't have happened under him, he made them pack before the end of class, so as to ensure everyone had the homework and the necessary texts.

As the delluge of students passed, he stepped back out into the corridor, removed the charm and strode through the corridors, seeking out the Slytherin Common room entrance that was available for use by faculty members.

HE opened the door, took a step inside and indicated with a quikc crook of the finger for a small third year to approach.

"INform Mr. Malfoy thatI would like to speak wth him over a mater of some delicacy." The third year wouldn't take that as an indication that the blond was in trouble, so his newly adopted ward would not lose any social standing, but would also have little valid reason to decline the hidden request that was in truth a concealed command.

[ashton]

( NO YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE )
^{WHEN NOTHING FEELS ALRIGHT, NO YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE}

✄--------------TO BE LIKE ME

Draco Malfoy's face paled when a little third year approached him with a request for him to see Professor Severus Snape. "Professor Snape requests that you meet with him, Mr. Malfoy," the child squeaked, his voice a few octaves too high for Draco's comfort. The young Malfoy sighed, he'd been avoiding Professor Snape all year, with hopes he wouldn't have to come into contact with the greasy old man except in Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. However, it seemed as if the pale-haired Slytherin was wrong. He brushed his long bangs from his hair, an action he'd gotten rather used to after he stopped spending so much time in the mirror, making his appearance flawless. Actually, he started to greatly dislike the mirror. Not only was it an awful waste of precious time, it made him look terribly sick and pale as well - of course, he always looked pale, but these days he was unusually so. He nodded to the young boy, almost too tired to give the kid a shove or slap in the back of the head. Nevertheless, as he got up, he swept his foot behind the third year's legs and knocked the young boy off his feet. With a small smirk of success, Draco made his way towards Snape's office.

It wasn't long before he'd reached the office doors, his happiness from tripping the poor third year long gone. Instead, it was replaced with a feeling reminiscent of fear - not fear itself, of course (Malfoy's didn't do 'fear') - but something oddly similar. Nervousness, perhaps? The pale-haired teen had no idea. He'd only felt this way once before, and that was when the Dark Lord had given him his task, though at that time, he'd also had some sort of surge in adrenaline running through his veins. That was, of course, before he realized how hopeless he was in completing his task. This thought brought realization to Draco's head. Of course! This was exactly what Snape wanted to talk to him about! The job Voldemort had given the poor sixth year. But no matter what Snape said, there would be no way Draco would turn the job over to the ex-potions master. Snape had once been his favorite teacher, sure, but that was long over. That damned Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had his abnormally large nose poked in Draco's business since the start of the term. And frankly, Draco didn't trust the nosy professor - well, he did... just not with such an important task as this one. For if the Dark Lord knew that Snape was helping him... well, that would put the poor Malfoy into a giant pile of shit, along with the rest of his family. The Dark Lord already had them put on his bad side; another fuckup would give him reason to obliterate the entire Malfoy name.

Regardless, Draco knew if he didn't answer Snape's request (which wasn't really a request at all, but more like a demand), he would never see the end of it from the ex-potions master. Draco sighed and lifted his hand to knock on the large wooden door of Snape's office, "Professor Snape?" the young Malfoy called, banging twice on the large door with his shaking knuckles, "I'm here at your request," he cringed, refusing to let himself stutter with nerves before adding, "Sir,"

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[Severus Tobias Snape]

The message, read: Summons, delivered. Severus retreated to his office, carefully arranging the desk to appear busy, but not too busy to speak to Draco about his task. He didn't want the boy to think Severus either couldn't handle teaching duties as well as protecting the Malfoy scion, or that that self-same Malfoy scion warranted more time than his actual legitimate job. Of course, failing to do his job as a Teacher at Hogwarts was, at worst, going to get him sacked, whereas neglecting the duties set out under the Unbreakable vow would lead to death. Severus was fairly sure that Bellatrix wouldn't be hasty about casting the Bonder's spell to punish him for failing to achieve what NArcissa had stipulated.

From the sound of the steps and the knock as well as the vocal request for entry, Draco was not at his best. A flash of concern for the boy ran through him, but he quickly quelled the urge to help. Nothing good would come of it. However, a lot of bad would. A torch on the wall bracket sputtered and he leant back in his chair.

"Enter." He tried to seem less forbidding than usual. indicating one of the chairs in front of him he spoke again. "Have a seat, Draco." He steepled his long stained fingers in front of him. "you know what this is about, I presume." THere was little question in the words. He knew the boy must have some idea of why he was here. And he was equally sure that he would not have an easy time convincing Draco to lethim help.

[Draco Lucius Malfoy]

( NO YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE )
^{WHEN NOTHING FEELS ALRIGHT, NO YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE}

✄--------------TO BE LIKE ME

Draco resisted the urge to sigh out of utter annoyance as he entered Snape's office. It would be much more bloody helpful, Draco believed, if Snape would just bugger off. He glanced over at the former potion's master as he spoke, then headed over to the chair that Snape directed him to. Draco sat down, feeling a bit tense and rigid, and tried to keep himself from glaring at the other man. Doesn't know how to mind his own damn business, Draco thought scathingly as he shifted a bit in the chair, giving off an air of aloofness and utter confidence. He wasn't going to let Snape have the satisfaction of seeing him nervous, no matter how much Draco wanted to just fidget his eyes out.

A snort nearly escaped his lips as Snape kept up the formal pleasantries. Of course Draco knew what this was about. Of course Snape wouldn't just keep his damn greasy hair and nose away from Draco's business. The boy sneered at Snape a bit, and tried to keep his tone moderately respectful as he answered, "No idea what this is about. Have I done something unsatisfactory in my work?" Draco decided to take the "play dumb" route, because he hoped it might make Snape back off and just let Draco leave. Draco swallowed and clenched his fists a bit, trying not to let his slightly trembling fingers show. He couldn't believe this was happening. Draco was handling his task perfectly fine by himself, and he had no need of assistance from his professor. Draco was going to get his family back into the Dark Lord's graces, and he knew he'd have to do everything perfectly and on his own.

If I let him help, he'll hog all of my credit and spoil everything. Not to mention I'll probably be punished for failing, Draco thought, his nose wrinkling in slight disgust. He didn't need any bloody help from anyone. Why couldn't that stupid teacher see it? Draco didn't want help. He could do everything marvelously on his own, thank you very much. Snape would just be another obstacle, and another annoyance, that he'd have to maneuver around and deal with. Draco didn't need any more of these petty occurrences, and that was that. His mind was made up. No matter how bad things got, and no matter how bloody nervous he was about the whole thing, he was not going to get help from anybody.

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