Isolation

2. Punch

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"She's improved," Snape commented, eyeing the door with a pensive look.

"You have no idea," McGonagall sighed, frowning as Hermione's protests only grew louder, ringing around her office and making her cringe. "She's been practising a lot with Horace and myself."

"I can see that," he nodded, glancing over to Draco. "Perhaps she will be able to manage him."

"She is capable," the headmistress assured him. "Severus, the anti-apparition wards will kick in again shortly, and I think it will be easier to explain this to her if you aren't here-

"I've been here too long anyway," he agreed, taking some long strides to the young wizard hunched in his seat. "Remember what we discussed, Draco-

"You're actually leaving me here?" he questioned, hissing out the words through his teeth. "With these people? Thanks a bunch-

"Try to remember that you are in danger," his old professor advised, his voice thick and condescending. "And these people are the only ones that are willing to provide you with somewhere to stay-

"Well, more fool then," Draco shrugged dismissively, giving McGonagall a long and bored look. "Were you expecting some sort of gratitude for this?"

"I have no expectations of you at all, Mr Malfoy," she told him with genuine disappointment. "Your constant failure to do anything worthwhile has destroyed any confidence I may have had in you."

His cocky facade flinched at her words. Not because he was bothered about upsetting the wrinkly wench; he really didn't give a shit. No, it was that she had called him a failure. And the truth hurt. In the last seven years, he couldn't recall one thing that he had managed to successfully achieve. Not one. And his last cock-up had proved fatal; fatal enough to warrant a death-wish and an indefinite stay in this shithole.

Failure.

"Would you like me to pretend I care?" he muttered casually, looking back to Snape. "I thought you were leaving."

The blond growled when he received another harsh slap to the back of his skull. "You should learn to control that tongue of yours, Draco," the older man scolded sharply. "I apologise for this, Minerva."

"There is no need," she insisted. "I can handle it from here. You have my word that I will do everything I can to ensure his safety. You really should go, Severus. It will be getting light soon."

"Right," he mumbled, giving the witch a sullen nod. "I'm not sure if I will be able to contact you any time soon."

"You know where we are if you need us," she said, her voice softer and bordering on sombre. "Good luck, Severus."

Draco released a disgusted snort that was drowned out by the loud snap of Apparition. He felt his jaw twitch and fought the embers of apprehension that settled in his gut. Snape may have turned out to be a blood traitor, but at least the creepy guy had been bound by a Vow to protect him, whereas these blood traitors would probably smother him in his sleep. Another one of Granger's shrill howls ruptured his eardrums, and he turned to McGonagall with a weary and hard-shut stare.

"This will be fun," he muttered dryly, folding his arms over his chest.

"You will not say anything to make this more difficult," the witch commanded with an agitated finger pointed in his direction. "And you will certainly not use that awful word."

"You mean Mudblood?" he questioned, drawing out the derogatory term. "You seem awfully confident with the assumption-

"I'm warning you, Mr Malfoy," she persisted. "You are only making things more difficult for yourself if you continue to act this way-