The Cowardly Lion (Book 1)

9: Of Snape and Secrets

Before long it was November, and the weather had turned icy cold. The sky was gray, and it made Draco shudder; but was worse, he thought, was the letter he'd gotten from his father during breakfast.

Draco,

Like it or not you are still a Malfoy.

I expect you home for Christmas, so do not even attempt to try to stay at Hogwarts.

Clearly, you require help from family, as Professor Snape informed me you got severely injured going after a mountain troll with the help of Harry Potter, a blood-traitor, and a Mudblood.

I will see you on Platform 9 ¾.

Lucius

Luckily, however, Harry was deep in conversation with Wood about his upcoming Quidditch game, and so Draco was able to hide the letter his eagle owl, Achilles, had brought him. Draco had not wanted an eagle owl, he thought sadly as the bird flew away. But Malfoys, he was well aware, only got the best.

Fred and George Weasley had also taken to hanging around Harry, glaring at Slytherins that taunted him about his upcoming game, and preventing anyone from hexing him.

Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione were crossing the courtyard, huddled around a blue fire that Hermione had conjured up, that could be contained in a jar, when they came across Professor Snape. He looked to be in quite a bad mood, and who could blame him, Draco thought; he was limping, and it looked quite painful. He wondered what had happened, but before he could say anything, Snape was spitting words in Harry's direction.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

"Quidditch Through the Ages, Professor," Harry responded, holding the book up for Snape to see; Hermione had given it to him, and it had been Draco's suggestion. Snape snatched the book out of Harry's hands, and Draco wondered why he was so angry.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," Snape said. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor." And with that, both the mysteriously limping Snape and Harry's book, which Draco knew had been helping Harry deal with his nervousness from the upcoming match, were gone.

"He's just made that rule up," Ron said angrily.

"What do you think is wrong with his leg?" Draco asked, looking worriedly after Snape.

"Dunno," said Ron savagely, "but I hope it's really hurting him."

"Ron! He's been fairly nice to us!" Draco protested, wondering why Ron would say such things.

Harry clapped his hand on Draco's shoulder. "Mate, that's only because of you," he informed Draco. "You're his godson, so he tries not to insult us or do anything in Slytherin's favor when you're around, but when you're not..."

"He's a bloody git," growled Ron, still glaring after Snape. Draco frowned, unconvinced. The man who had tutored him since he was seven, a git? His godfather, a git? No, he had to find out what was really bothering Snape.

*TCL*TCL*TCL*

That night, Gryffindor was particularly rowdy, as it was the night before Harry's first game. Harry himself, however, was tapping his fingers restlessly, and grabbed Draco's wrist when he went to sneak out.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, frowning.

"I just want to see what's bothering Professor Snape," Draco admitted. "He can't possibly be as bad as you all say."

Harry sighed. "You're too good, you know that, Draco?"

"He's just been my tutor for so long, I can't believe he'd actually be so mean to people..." Draco frowned, and the duo headed towards Snape's office, Harry saying something about how if he was as nice as Draco thought, maybe he'd give Harry his book back.