they were just kids [draco malfoy]

Year 4 - 47

Draco Malfoy hated the portraits that hung all around Hogwarts.

Not only were they disrespectful and untouchable old blighters, they also watched your every move, leaving you close to no privacy when making one's way somewhere. Quite honestly the boy was surprised they didn't keep ratting his outings out to the professors.

Draco didn't head out after curfew a lot, but he had his moments and thus far he hadn't once gotten caught. The only time the boy had gotten detention for being out after curfew was when he had foolishly turned himself in, believing that he was going to ambush Potter.

Though it didn't matter much at the given moment. It was just half an hour past their dinnertime and the blonde boy was making his way over to their head of house's office to have a little chat.

It was a short walk - that from the Slytherin dungeon to Professor Severus Snape's office, but despite that, some foolishly brave first-years still snickered quietly upon seeing him. Draco hadn't yet lived down the embarrassment of being turned into a ferret in front of nearly the whole school.

He had written to his father, complaining about the faulty professor, demanding to get him fired, and his father had responded that he would try and see what he could do in the matter. To which Draco had responded with another rant-like letter how he explained how important it was, he would see about the matter faster. Truth be told, Draco was frightened. 

Being reduced to a form of a smelly animal had not only been utterly humiliating and demoralising but also scary.

Why was Draco Malfoy going to meet up with his potions teacher in the hours school was done for, one might ask. Well, the platinum-blonde had an important question at hand.

Draco knew his father had become acquainted with Severus Snape during their schooling years at Hogwarts. Though Snape had been a few years younger, the two had still somewhat known one another. What his mother had told Draco was that while in one of their finishing years of school, Snape had arrived and that his father had almost been like a mentor figure at the time. His mother had laughed, remembering how fickle the boy had been, yet how they had immediately recognised the talent within him and so and so forth.

There was much more to the relationship of the two men, but what Draco found most important in the given moment was that Snape had been in school at the same time as his father and Eric Ninomae had, which could only mean that the man must know at least something.

Stopping by the professor's door, Draco straightened out his clothes and tie, then knocked on the door politely.

Soon the door was whipped opened rather aggressively to reveal a tall dark man looking down at Draco with somewhat of a glare.

"Oh," he spoke in the slow matter that both annoyed and fascinated the blonde boy, "Mr Malfoy. To what do I owe the pleasure." 

The man's voice was laced with sarcasm and Draco didn't miss it. Instead, he placed his hands into his pockets and strolled into the office confidently. 

Looking around to see if anything had changed from the last time he had been there, Draco noted that nothing had. The place was still just as gloomy and simply lit. Only the shelves that lined the shadowy walls and held glass jars that kept slimy bits of animals and plants floating in all kinds of potions appeared to be fuller.

"I have a question," the snobbish boy spoke, sitting down in the only chair in the office.

Severus Snape looked at the boy with great disregard. The man held his annoyed half-glare as he shut the door to his office, then crossed his arms, looking at the boy who currently occupied his chair.