Proof of Life

Unease



When Severus finally made it downstairs a good hour after he woke up, Draco rose to his feet to greet him.



“Hello, Sir,” he said uncertainly.



Severus chuckled quietly, amused by the unexpected formality. “You can dispense with the \'Sir\', Draco. School has been out for a long time.”



“Severus then?” Draco half-said, half-asked, eyeing him in a very tentative, slightly guarded way. “Good to see you again.”



“Likewise. I heard about your father. I\'m sorry,” Severus said.



“Thank you.”



“How\'s your mother doing?”



“She\'s all right.”



“And you?”



Draco gave him a long, uncertain look. “Me too. Should I cook you breakfast?”



“I can do that myself,” Severus said, heading into the kitchen. “What do you take?”



“Just coffee, please,” Draco said. “Milk, no sugar.”



The exchange of the all-too-short sentences was almost painfully awkward, but at least they were making conversation, Severus thought, as he walked to the kitchen, turned the cooker on, made toast, and proceeded to prepare coffee. Draco followed him, and stood in the doorway, still staring numbly ahead.



“Would you like your coffee to take out?” Severus asked impatiently. “If not, please do me the honor of sitting down, and if you\'re going to stare at me the entire time, shut your mouth.”



Draco finally sat down, and gave him a weak grin. “Sorry,” he said softly, and another long, awkward pause ensued.



Severus placed the coffee on the table, and proceeded to cover a slice of toast with a generous helping of chocolate spread. Draco sipped his coffee and stared into his mug. For a moment Draco\'s lips moved inaudibly, as if he were going to say something, but he simply shook his head mutely, and remained silent.



“Draco, what is it?” Severus said. “You obviously want to ask something, so go ahead and do so before the day comes to a close.”



“All right,” Draco said flatly. “How are you doing here?”



Not how are you doing, but how are you doing here. The distinction didn\'t escape Severus: Draco seemed to be of the opinion that staying with Potter under such circumstances could be nothing short of dismal.



“I\'m doing fine here,” Severus said simply, keeping the irritation in his voice down to the bare minimum.



Draco smiled mirthlessly. “I know Potter is all Gryffindor in public, but how is he in private?”



“He\'s fine,” Severus said softly, remembering the ongoing vendetta between Draco and Harry back in school, sensing Draco\'s concern, and wanting to reassure him. “He\'s not the terror he used to be. I never thought I\'d say this, but he turned out all right.”



“You could stay with us, you know,” Draco offered, as if he hadn\'t heard him, looking at Severus with a strange mixture of pity and embarrassment. “I can talk to mum...”



“Thank you, but I think that would complicate matters needlessly at this point,” Severus said stiffly.



A brief spark of rage flashed in Draco\'s eyes, but he didn\'t argue. They finished the breakfast in a strained, heavy silence, and Draco sat in his chair, rigid as a stick, while Severus cleared the kitchen table. Still quiet, they went to the living room together. Severus picked up a random periodical from the book shelf, and sat down to read. Before Draco could do the same, Tripod ran toward them and butted Draco\'s leg with his head.



“Stupid cat,” Draco muttered, stepping over him, and giving him a small push with his foot.



“I thought you liked cats,” Severus said as neutrally as he could, patting the couch next to him. Tripod turned around and ran to him at once.



“Well, I don\'t like this one.”



“I don\'t see why. He\'s very friendly.”



“He\'s friendly?!!” Draco shouted suddenly. “Why is he friendly?!! He\'s fucking missing a leg! He\'s got no reason to be friendly!”



Startled by Draco\'s outburst, the cat jumped off the couch and fled upstairs to the bedroom, his ears pressed tightly to his head.



“Nicely done,” Severus said sardonically. “I think you\'re the first person to scare him off.”



Draco glared at him unrepentantly, and Severus decided he\'d had more than enough for the morning. “I think it\'s best if I leave you alone.” He walked away, heading downstairs, feeling Draco\'s angry gaze on the back of his head the entire time.



Once he reached the comfortable solitude of his study, he leaned against the wall, and shut his eyes. The feelings of resentment and irritation that were indeterminate and vague earlier this morning, continued to grow.



Shame, the word crossed his mind.



Draco was ashamed of him. Ashamed of seeing the old family friend, the former Head of Slytherin being this way?



He knew his current situation was nothing to be proud of, he knew that by the Malfoy standards his predicament was likely deemed a failure... but seeing the half-embarrassed, half-pitying expression on Draco\'s face really did drive the point home, more than a thousand words might have.



He didn\'t know what to do about it, and more to the point, he didn\'t know how to combat the onslaught of absolute, senseless, brutal rage that came with the realization. His hand balled tightly into a fist, he struck out against the first surface that presented itself: the cellar wall. When he withdrew his hand, his knuckles were bloodied, but the rage had receded from boiling point to a quiet simmer.



Feeling sickened by the encounter, Severus sat down at his desk and buried his head in his hands.



~ * ~



Talking to Percy at times seemed like talking to a wall, and this was just one of such times. Once again, Harry made a valiant attempt to convince his brother-in-law to let him personally interrogate the prisoners that they had captured while liberating the compound where Snape had been held.



Once again, Percy replied to Harry\'s request with the entirely predictable Why, clearly indicating that no reason would be sufficient to justify a breach of protocol of this magnitude.



“Because we\'re having trouble dismantling the Underground, in case you haven\'t noticed. We need a breakthrough, and it\'s not here. I feel like we\'re missing something,” Harry explained yet again with dwindling patience. “I think we aren\'t asking the right questions.”



“Fine. Give me the list of questions you want asked, and I\'ll make sure they are asked during the next interrogation.”



“I don\'t know what I want to ask. I\'ll have to play it by ear. Structured interviews can only go so far. I need to watch the person I\'m talking to, read their body language, see what they\'re like, and interact with what they\'re telling me. Interrogating someone from a script just can\'t do that.”



“I don\'t like this at all,” Percy said quietly, and turned to look at Harry intently. “When Diggory finds out that I\'m breaking the rules for you...”



“I know,” Harry agreed. “But I promise, I won\'t do anything stupid. All I want to do is talk.”



Percy shook his head again, but Harry could tell that his resolve was beginning to weaken.



“Percy, what if there\'s another terrorist attack? What if more Muggles, or wizards, die? Then what? Are you going to be able to tell yourself that you did all you could, just because you\'ve played by the rules?”



Percy bit his lip and bowed his head in resignation. “Fine. Tomorrow, I\'ll get you a pass to Azkaban.”



Harry\'s grin became wider. “Thanks. I owe you one.”



Percy\'s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes, you do. Harry?..”



“Hmm?”



“Really, really, don\'t do anything stupid.”



~ * ~



It wasn\'t until afternoon that Draco finally knocked on the door of Severus\' study.



“What?” Severus demanded.



“Can I come in?”



“I\'d prefer if you didn\'t.”



“Well, can you come out then?”



Severus sighed and pushed the book he was reading aside. He had spent several hours trying to read an old Potions text, only to realize with absolute dismay how much he\'d forgotten, and how difficult it was to focus on the subject that used to come easily and naturally to him.



“Fine. Enter,” Severus said, and the door opened slightly, with Draco poking his head inside.



Slowly, Draco surveyed the study that at this point was unmistakably Severus\' – from the books on the shelves, to small pictures that Pansy had brought in and put up on the walls.



“This is all yours?” Draco asked quietly, still standing at the entrance, clearly finding it difficult to believe that Potter could be a considerate host.



“I assure you, the paintings of snakes aren\'t Potter\'s,” Severus said dryly, causing Draco to chuckle a little.



“I suppose not.”



“What do you want now?” Severus snapped impatiently.



“To apologize. I\'m sorry... about the cat,” Draco said awkwardly.



Severus finally looked up at Draco, and winced, seeing the traces of tear-tracks on the face of the young man Severus had known since he was a little child. As much as Severus held on to his grudges, he could never stay angry with Draco for very long. The remnants of irritation had faded away, replaced with worry and concern.



“It\'s all right,” Severus said simply. “What\'s going on with you?”



“I don\'t know,” Draco muttered disgruntledly, making a few small steps down the staircase, and sitting down on one of the steps, hugging his body with his arms. “I\'m just so angry all the time. Even before father died, but now... I guess I felt like you were defending Potter, and got angry again.” Draco\'s eyes flashed with bright rage. “Why aren\'t you angry with him? It\'s his fault too, you know... that you...”



Severus found himself shrugging slightly. “It\'s too late to talk about whose fault what was. It\'s been seven years. Things are different now.”



“Things are different,” Draco repeated venomously, but seeing the wary look on Severus\' face, managed to hold back whatever spiteful remark was ready to escape his lips. “Sorry,” he said again. “Look, why don\'t you come up. Let\'s play a game of chess or something.”



“It\'s been too long. I doubt I remember the rules of the game.”



Draco sighed. “You and me both. I haven\'t played since... well, since school, actually.”



Severus stared at him with surprise. “That\'s a shame. You used to be very good at it.”



Draco smirked. “Well, if we can\'t get into it, there\'s always Exploding Snap. What do you say?”



~ * ~



When Harry returned home, he found the house quiet and dark. Severus had gone to sleep, and Draco was waiting for Harry, curled into himself on the couch, with a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky on the floor next to him.



“How did it go?” Harry asked, resting his bag on the floor and settling into an armchair across from Draco.



“What took you so bloody long?” Draco demanded. “And don\'t try and tell me that you work until midnight.”



Harry looked up at Draco with surprise. He\'d stayed out late intentionally, imagining that Severus and Draco would be spending the day catching up, and talking until the wee hours. Apparently, he\'d been wrong. He wanted to ask again how the visit went, but the grim, unhappy look on Draco\'s face didn\'t inspire confidence.



“I\'m sorry,” Harry said simply. “I won\'t stay out late next time you\'re in.”



“Doesn\'t matter,” Draco spat. “I won\'t be back. I\'ll still help out as much as I can, but I won\'t be back.”



“Really? Why?”



“It\'s just too much,” Draco whispered with a tremor in his voice. “I can\'t take it. It\'s too hard... seeing him here, like this – and...”



“And you\'ve decided to ditch him in order to make things easier for yourself,” Harry said ruthlessly, not at all mollified by Draco\'s explanation.



Draco stood up abruptly, glaring at Harry with a murderous expression on his face.



“Potter...”



“Stop,” Harry said flatly. Whatever sympathy he probably should have felt for Draco, simply wasn\'t there. Instead, there was only irritation at Draco\'s utter self-centeredness, and anger at his refusal to acknowledge how far Severus had come in such a short time. Harry briefly recalled his conversation with Marietta, and her mentioning that her father didn\'t like sick or needy people – and when his annoyance had reached its peak, Harry spoke again. “Draco, for once in your life, stop wallowing in misery, and simply do the right thing. Put someone else first, even before your own feelings, however sacrosanct they might seem to you.”



Harry knew that he\'d hit a nerve, or a whole bundle of them, when Draco winced, as if he\'d been slapped.



“You\'re a git, Potter,” Draco said with disgust.



“Thank you. Are you going to come back?”



“Yes,” Draco said reluctantly.



“Good. Look forward to it. Now, get out.”



Draco smiled mirthlessly, and headed towards the Floo. Harry watched him depart numbly. For a few moments Harry wondered if he should have been more understanding, but then he remembered work again, and all concern for Draco vanished from his mind.



It was well past midnight, but going to bed wasn\'t an option, as far as Harry was concerned.



Harry settled back into his armchair, and reached for the bag filled with the transcripts detailing interrogations of Death Eaters that he\'d brought from work. The records dated back five years, and Harry began reading through them yet again, not knowing what exactly he was looking for this time, but determined to find it.



To Be Continued...