"Draco," Professor Snape didn't even look up from the table where he was grading papers and scribbling furiously on some.
"Yes, professor, you wanted to see me?" Draco glided into the room as comfortably as one could, into Snape's dank office.
"I am well aware of what he has planned for you," he began, with no warning and eyes still on the parchments before him, "and I have... assured your mother that I would do everything in my power to help you. I had expected you to come to me, but it seems you have remained... stubborn."
Snape's dark eyes find Draco's now, "Are you planning on being... uncooperative?"
"No, sir."
"The Dark Lord does not take kindly to incompetence, as you may well know."
"I know... I know! All I need is a little bit of time!" He sounded petulant, even to his own ears. Snape raised an unimpressed eyebrow at his proclamation.
"Prey tell, what exactly is your grand plan?" His hand hovered above a parchment and Draco stared at the tip.
"I haven't got all the details sorted, but I will get it done, you can keep your meddling–" He stopped at the look Snape gave him and, unable to continue, mumbled, "I don't need your help."
"You do understand what I am saying, don't you, Draco? I am on your side, I can assist you–"
"I'll ask for it when I need it!" He said, heart racing. How many people were waiting to see him fail? For his mother to appeal to his teacher – fellow Death Eater or not – was simply too much for him. He stumbled out of the office and held himself up against the walls, taking a step at a time. Away from Snape and his offer, away from fear.
He found himself somehow on the second floor, outside of the girl's lavatory, heaving in panic. It hadn't seemed real, until now. Until Snape laid everything out on the table.
He suddenly discovered the immense weight of what he was to do, heavy on his shoulders. He knew it was too big a task for a mere boy, but having never had any real responsibilities in his life, he hadn't realised how it was his burden to bear.
There was no one who would do it for him. For Snape to offer assistance and not simply carrying it out without Draco's knowledge meant that it was his duty. It was his and his alone. All of a sudden, it dawned upon him that Voldemort had fully expected him to fail. It was a punishment. He was never meant to actually carry it out.
On the verge of throwing up, he flung open the doors and ran to the nearest sink before relieving himself.
"Oh, look!" Draco's head whipped around at the sound of a girl's voice.
"A boy!" A giggle followed this time. He quickly washed his face and began walking out with his focus on the floor as a girl's face materialised under his feet.
Letting out a little yelp, he leapt back and stared as the girl floated towards him.
"Sorry, Myrtle." He mumbled, "Don't feel well."
"Oh, you can talk to me and tell me all about it," Myrtle said, floating towards the sinks and sitting on a ledge, "I'm a great listener... Even though not many people talk to me... It gets awfully lonely in the pipes, y'know?"
"I'm sure it must be– I– gotta go, class." He said before slipping out and heard her high pitched voice seeing him out.
"Come back whenever!"
The little encounter managed to calm him down, somewhat but the dread still hung over him like a dark cloud. He didn't say another word throughout his classes and who should notice but Hermione.
YOU ARE READING
The Lost Timeline | Dramione | ✔
Fanfiction"Do not make the mistake of thinking I care what you think of me." She looked down and saw her book in his other hand. The unexpected kindness in the midst of poison was more than she could bear and she took it from him quickly before breaking into...
