"You...you can't be serious," croaked Draco, once he had found his voice.

The old man sitting across from him smiled serenely, his hands clasped beneath his chin, his eyes sparkling in the dim candle light.

"I am perfectly serious, dear boy," said Albus Dumbledore with a gentle smile, those eyes flickering with amusement as if his words had not just unraveled the semblance of a normal life Draco had been clinging to the past few weeks. The numb disbelief Draco had felt upon initially hearing the headmaster's words was quickly being replaced with anger, a familiar feeling lately more than ever.

"I refuse," snarled Draco, hands clenching into fists on the arms of the overly-squashy chair Dumbledore insisted on keeping in his office. Dumbledore didn't speak for a few moments, merely continuing to survey Draco through through his half moon spectacles.

"I understand your anger, Draco," he finally said, compassion crinkling those piercing blue eyes.

"You don't," said Draco, tone as harsh as he could make it. Perhaps if he disrespected the old fool enough he'd give up on this crazy scheme of his. And how could look at him like that, pretend to know what Draco was feeling? His father was in Azkaban, his mother was having some sort of mental breakdown, the Dark Lord wanted him for some sinister purpose no one would tell him about, and now, to top it all off, a muggle-loving old fool had decided the best way to express his pathetic pity for Draco was to ship him off to live with the cause of all his problems, Harry Bloody Potter.

"You're a smart boy, Draco," said Dumbledore, voice still infuriatingly calm. "Surely you understand the seriousness of this situation. Your mother contacted me, asking that you be kept safe from Voldemort's wrath-which, after what happened with your father at the Ministry, he will surely take out on you. If you value your life, you will accept the plans the Order has been working diligently on for you." Dumbledore's tone had turned sterner as he spoke on, and the anger surged up within Draco once again. So now he was supposed to be grateful for what was happening to him? He longed to leap up, to turn his wand on the old fool…

Just then, the large door that lead into Dumbledore's office opened with a rasp of wood on stone. Professor Severus Snape stood in the doorway, dark eyes quickly surveying the scene before him. Catching Draco's eye, he threw a warning glance at him before shifting his gaze to Dumbledore and inclining his head half a centimeter.

"Headmaster."

"Severus, how wonderful to see you," said Dumbledore with a grin, gesturing toward another squashy chair near his desk. "Take a seat, take a seat."

Severus strode over to the chair in a few steps, took the offered seat, and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Draco and I were just discussing his living situation this summer."

"I see," said Severus, his voice cool and even.

"He does not wish to live with Harry of course, but once he thinks it through I'm sure he will see the prudence in residing at Privet Drive. Licorice?" When neither of them answered, Dumbledore merely chuckled and popped a piece of the candy into his mouth.

"As detestable as Potter is, his home is one of the safest places available. The wards and spells that have gone into attempting to keep that idiotic boy alive are truly remarkable. Of course, considering his recent actions, they might all go to waste soon," said Snape with a smirk.

"I'm positive that Harry will remain alive and well throughout the summer," spoke Dumbledore, "as will you, Draco. Now, I must simply get myself something to eat. Care to join me?"

"No thank you," said Severus curtly as Dumbledore rose from his desk and made his way toward the door. Once it had swung shut behind Dumbledore, Draco turned toward Severus, a protest rising to his lips. Snape held up his hand before the words had the chance to escape.

"Silence," said Snape, rising from the chair. He paced a few times around Dumbledore's desk. "You will do as the Headmaster says."

"But-" began Draco, indignation welling up within him. Severus was one of the only people he had been able to trust over the past few weeks, his favorite professor, family friend, and godfather a source of comfort; the cool, level advice he had given to Draco in his more frantic moments had helped him get through his father's imprisonment and his mother's hysteria. Now it seemed like he wasn't really looking out for Draco at all, and it stung.

"Unfortunately, Potter's house is where you will be safest, which is my main concern. I am not going to just leave you there at the mercy of Potter and those idiotic muggles. You will write me every few days and inform me of conditions there, and if anything is amiss I will pay a visit and the situation will be rectified."

Well, that was slightly reassuring, though still not what Draco wanted to happen. "What about mother?" he finally asked quietly.

At these words, Severus stopped his pacing. "You realize your mother is having a difficult time right now. Medical attention is needed. The Order will provide the best care possible to her at a safe location. You are not to know her whereabouts, and she is not to know yours, for safety precautions."

Draco blinked back tears, sliding his gaze back toward the floor. What if something happened to his mother? When would he be able to see her again? Although he had his differences with his father, his mother had always been a constant presence in his life, putting his needs above her own time and time again. She was doing it right now.

"You will spend two weeks her at the castle while preparations are made. The headmaster will then apparate with you to Potter's house, and ensure you are comfortably settled in," Severus paused before adding, "I'm sorry this has happened, Draco." Draco just nodded, tears now gone. If he had to live with Potter, so be it. But he wasn't going to make things easy for him.

000

Harry Potter lay on his bed, the setting sun casting shadows across his bedroom wall. He had been back at the Dursley's for two weeks now, and getting through each day had felt even more tiresome than his last encounter with Voldemort. The Dursleys knew something was off with him-his emotions had been swinging up and down violently, resulting in more clashes than usual with his relatives- but had not cared enough to inquire what was going on. They attempted to deal with him by alternating between locking him in his room and assigning him impossible amounts of chores. Today he was locked in his room.

Harry glanced at the letter lying unopened on his desk. It had arrived earlier that day in an a Hogwarts envelope, carried by an impressive looking Hogwarts owl. The slanted, looping scrawl on the envelope was unmistakably Dumbledore's. Harry could not bring himself to open it, recalling his violent explosion in Dumbledore's office after Sirius's death. The sick, empty feeling in the pit of his stomach had not left him since then.

Rolling over on his side, Harry closed his eyes, wondering if he would be able to get some sleep. He didn't want to think about the letter. It probably had something to do with Sirius. What if he expected him to tell the Dursleys about what had happened? Or was trying to console him, or expand upon what he had said in his office? Thinking about it just made him more tired, more sick.

As the last light faded from the room, Harry's breathing deepened. He hadn't been sleeping well lately, often waking up in the early hours of the morning with nightmares of Sirius's death echoing in his head.

The letter sat unopened on the desk. Harry Potter had no idea of the surprise that would be coming for him in two days.