Year 7 | Petals on the Wind

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SOME TIME LATER that evening, when the sun bled red in the darkening sky, Draco Malfoy strolled down a quiet road in a spacious Muggle Village. His form was tense as he held one arm close to his side, within reach of his wand, while the other conscientiously reached to pull his sleeve down over his inky Dark Mark, that which reminded him of a devastating truth: his choices were no longer his to make. But this....this he had to do. He owed it to her.

He rapped his fingers three times with a rusted door knocker that ripped off of the door of the dilapidated house and proceeded to toss it into the weeds just as the resident of the house answered his call. He looked into the dark eyes of his mentor with mixed anxiety and hope, but Severus Snape looked back at him with empty eyes.

"Professor," he nodded in greeting

"Draco, why are you standing on my doorstep?"

"I need your help." The disgruntled Snape opened the door for him to enter. What else was he to do? He had nothing more to lose.

Draco stepped into a house that looked as though it had been vacant for ages. A thick layer of dust coated every surface, every piece of furniture, every nook and cranny. It was obvious that his living room was once decorated with plants, but the pots that remained held dead and rotted shells of once thriving organisms. Not even the sofa showed any sign of use, an observation supported by the clouds of dust that arose as he sat down opposite Snape.

"What do you want?" grumbled Snape, "What could I possible have to offer that you cannot acquire yourself, boy?"

Snape's hair was greasier than usual and the half-moons beneath his eyes made him look far older than he really was. His appearance surprised Draco, who had only ever seen Snape in a more pristine state as he stood behind the Dark Lord.

"The world as we knew it is ending," Draco scoffed at him, "And you don't even give a damn. I mean, look at yourself."

"I don't pay attention to the world ending. It had ended for me many times and began again in the morning." he replied gravely and stared at the china cabinet behind the teenager, "If came here to scrutinize my home and my person, I suggest you leave now."

"For fucks sake, pull yourself together!" Draco stood abruptly, drawing Snape's attention to him, "You of all people don't get to fall off of the wagon!"

Snape stared at the boy. He remembered befriending his father back during his own Hogwarts days, back when he dressed in rags and called himself the Half-BloodPrince, back when he excelled in Potions. When had he lost his way? When was the exact moment where he gave up everything, the moment that led him here where he sat across from the son of a cruel and cowardly man he called his friend?

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