Disclaimer: All characters are JKR material, not mine.

A/N: My computer had guess how many . . . 95 viruses. Yeah, and now that I deleted all of them my computer seems to be going even SLOWER. Ugh, so now I'm on a different computer thanks to that, because I have suspicions that Spyware is on my laptop. My files were on my laptop, so that's why this chapter took a bit longer to write.

Chapter VI

Draco indeed had slept rather peacefully through the night, without disturbing dreams of his father, and without waves of nausea. Probably the best sleep he had gotten in weeks. He woke placidly, feeling very well rested. His mercury eyes blinked several times before actually opening to stare at the ceiling. The fire had long since died, but the room was lit with a dim grayish blue light. Dawn's light must have even crept into the dungeons of Hogwarts. Maybe it was some sort of spell.

Slowly climbing out of bed, he reached down for his robes and shoes, only to find them missing. No, Snape wouldn't have stolen them? The thought vanished immediately after he realized how stupid a theory that was. Like a professor at Hogwarts would steal his clothes. So he sat there in his pants and dress shirt that he had worn yesterday, pondering what to do. Well, he could just sit there and wonder what to do for hours, or he could go out and find his professor.

He made his way to the door and reached for the handle, when the handle turned itself. He stepped back, expecting to see Severus standing behind the door, but was sadly disappointed. In fact, he had to lower his head considerably so he was practically looking at the floor. "Good morning, Sirs!" came the squeaky voice of one of the Hogwarts house elves. Draco made a face and let the thing in.

He wasn't one to be surprised by a house elf waiting on him, but he just wasn't expecting to see one at Hogwarts. After all, the good sign of an elf was that no one noticed them there, right? The thing trotted in, holding a tray of what looked rather like his breakfast. Draco watched it, then looked to the open door, and decided to leave it do whatever it was going to. Probably clean the room or something.

His bare feet made silent padding sounds as he moved down the cold stone floor of the hallway. It didn't take long before he reached the closed oak door of what he presumed to be his professor's room. Should he go in? Should he knock? What if he was still asleep? Draco had never really thought so much about what to do when knocking on someone's door. Eventually, he settled for just knocking three times and waiting.

No answer.

Another knock, and still nothing. He decided to chance it, and creaked the door open to look inside. He was surprised to see that the room looked as if no one had occupied it ever. There was a four poster, but it looked to be a queen sized rather than just a twin. He knew the teachers had gotten better living arrangements then students! There was also a rather nice quality desk next to it, with a lit oil lamp.

There was a fireplace, currently unlit, and another door which Draco had guessed to lead to a bathroom. The whole place seemed vacant, so he decided to try the other rooms. Only halfway through inspecting the kitchen did he look up to see the clock, and realize what time it was. Eight o'clock. Well, certainly Snape would have gotten up earlier than that to start off the day. He felt rather stupid now for not considering that in the first place. Blaming it on the early hours of the morning, he made his way back to the guest room.

So what was he supposed to do now? He saw the house elf walking down the hall, apparently about to leave, and he stopped it by standing in front of it. "Where's Professor Snape?" he demanded, figuring the creature in front of him would know. He made an odd whimpering noise and cowered, rubbing his hands together and looking fidgety. "Master Snape has gone off to lessons. He is telling Figgy to bring Mr. Malfoy breakfast until Master Snape gets back from his lessons." Draco snorted, amused. Figgy? That was worse than Dobby for a name. "Right, what am I supposed to do then?" he said to no one in particular, but Figgy obviously thought the question was directed to him.

"Sir could do homework?"

"I wasn't talking to you!"

He brushed past the house elf and into the guest room again, to see everything was straightened out just as Professor Snape's room had been. The house elf must have just finished with his professor's room when he came into the guest room. He looked at the food which had been brought to him, and decided to eat. He sat down on the bed, and brought the plate to him. At least it wasn't oatmeal.

The young Malfoy found he rather liked eating alone. Because he didn't have anyone to talk to, so he could just enjoy his food as much as he pleased. And French toast was always something to look forward to. He loved French toast. His fork fell to the plate once he had finished, and he set the tray down on the nightstand. Alright, well breakfast was done...his eyes skimmed across the room and landed on the selection of books. Ha, and Severus said that he wouldn't be needing to look at them.

He stood up and moved over to the other side of the room, where he looked through the selection. Most of them were boring, and had to do with school related topics like spells and potions making. He did find one of slight interest, and picked it up. It was a book on the dark arts and how to identify them. Being a Malfoy, he already knew many dark arts curses, but thought this might be interesting.

For the next couple of hours he sat back and read up on a few curses, each seeming more illegal than the next. This was the sort of book one would be expecting to find in Durmstrang, but he figured that Snape knew their headmaster rather well, and could have snuck a book like this out of the school and into his possession. Eventually he got tired of reading, and decided to see what else there was to do. Maybe Severus had some kind of doohickey to keep him occupied.

He walked out into the hall and glanced to his side, to see his professor's door still open. Curiosity got the better of him, while the blonde crept closer. He glanced over his shoulder to see that the door which led out into the dungeons was still closed behind him, meaning Severus hadn't come back from lessons yet. Good, this gave Draco time for snooping, and he loved snooping.

Professor Snape's room was still as clean and tidy as it had been when he had peeked in a few hours ago when he stepped inside. It felt strange to be in the bedroom of his professor. It was like someone had slapped him in the face and said "Snape sleeps too, you idiot. He's not a bloody robot." He giggled under his breath at the thought of his professor with an antenna sticking out of his head, and then scolded himself for giggling. Malfoys don't giggle.

His attention was drawn to a bottle of whiskey on his nightstand, and he stared at it oddly. Wine, whiskey, what else did Snape drink? Was he some sort of drunkard on his free time? Well, the glass seemed to be more full than empty, so perhaps he just "enjoyed the taste" every once in a while. He for some reason didn't want to believe the only man he trusted was a drunk. He walked towards it and looked down for the brand name. It looked something in Russian.

He decided not to touch it incase Snape did any fingerprint scans or whatnot. Never put it past a Death Eater to keep strong precautions of his things. But still being curious, he pulled his wand out from his pocket and pointed it at the drawer under the nightstand. It opened with the flick of his wrist. He seemed a bit disappointed to see only a few letters inside. He was expecting something more interesting. "Ah well, let's take a look," he said to no one in particular, looking down to read the one on top.

Severus,
Happy birthday. I don't know how fast these Post Owls are, so I am sending this earlier than normal. I know you don't like parties, or even for others to acknowledge your birthday. However, I figured a nice bottle of something special would be a good celebration for you. I happen to remember this was the brand you preferred, the last time you came to visit. Don't waste it all on one night, now.

Igor

Igor? Who the hell was Igor? Probably just someone Snape knew. But he couldn't help going over all the people he only knew by last name. Did he know this Igor who wrote the letter and sent the whiskey? Most likely not, but his father might have. Maybe he would ask his professor about it when he came back.

Draco closed the drawer with the flick of his wand and turned to the bed. It was big, and came up to his naval when his beds back in his dorm only came up to mid thigh. He ran his hands over the material. It was made of an incredibly comfortable fabric, that he suspected to have some sort of magic effect weaved within it. To test this theory, he sat down on the end of it. Odd as it sounds, his butt was in heaven the moment it touched the bed.

Tempted to try this unrealistically comfortable bed out some more, he leaned back to lie flat, staring up at the black canopy draped over the four poster bed. He surprised himself by letting out a relaxed sigh. This was the most comfortable bed he had ever been on in his life! "Wow . . ." He smirked and for the first time in his life considered becoming a teacher for Hogwarts just so he could lie in this bed. He raised a hand to run it through his hair and turned over to lie on his side, facing the door.

Gods, how long did lessons go? Well, the last of the morning classes would be in a half an hour, so he decided to take his shower before Snape got back. He felt awkward not having a shower after sleeping. For the first part of the night he had been sweating quite a lot, due to the dreams he had been having.

Getting up with a groan, finding that standing on his feet was even more unbearable now that he had witnessed lying on that bed, he moved to the bathroom in the hall. Only to be disappointed by what he saw, which was no shower, or even bathtub. "For the love of Merlin," he said in frustration. There had to be a shower somewhere in this place. And then he remembered the bathroom in Snape's bedroom. Duh, of course the shower would be in the master bedroom.

Feeling stupid for not thinking of this in the first place, he opened the door to find his theory correct. A bathroom slightly smaller than the ones at his own Manor, but no doubt larger than the bathrooms in the other parts of the castle. "Not fair, the teachers get it so much better than students." He sulked for a minute while he turned on the taps of the shower, waiting for it to warm before he took off his shirt. He closed the door, locked it, and then proceeded with stripping himself of the rest of his clothes.

A shower felt nice when he didn't have to think about homework which needed to be finished, or lessons he needed to go to. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around. He was slightly surprised by what he saw, but not bewildered. There was a bar of soap alright, but no shampoo or conditioner bottles anywhere. What was he supposed to do, magic himself some? He sighed, deciding that he would just wash his hair when he got back to his dorm, and picked up the soap.

The showering process didn't take that long, but Draco wasn't in a rush to get out, and so he took his time. A warm shower felt rather good on a cold November Friday. However, all good things had to end. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his hips, dried his body off, and then used the same towel to dry off his hair. Gathering his clothes in his arms, he headed for the doorway and opened it to the rather cold master bedroom. He nearly died from shock.

Professor Snape was standing in the doorway by the hall.

Draco gasped, his hands flying down to his towel to make sure he was covered fully. In the process, his clothes fell to the floor, but he knew better than to bend down and pick them up. He waited for his professor to say something, but he just stared and looked at a loss for words. Attempting to redeem himself, Draco cleared his throat and straightened up.

"Ah, sorry Professor. I . . . I wasn't sure if I was allowed to go back to my dorm, but I had to take-"

"For Merlin's sake, put some clothes on, Mr. Malfoy!"

Feeling embarrassed beyond all reason, he stopped talking immediately and reached for his clothes, before standing up again with one hand on his towel. Well, it looked like he was going to wear the same clothes over again, to his disdain. "Sorry Professor," he muttered before backing up into the bathroom and closing the door. Well, at least Snape didn't look mad.

He opened the door again after he had gotten dressed and dried off his hair using a spell from his wand. Severus was sitting on the bed, his back to Draco. "Professor?" he said a second later, closing the bathroom door behind him. Severus stood up slowly and turned around, watching Draco from the other side of the bed. It was an awkward moment for both of them. Probably more so for the Malfoy however.

"Er, like I said before, I'm sorry about using the-"

"I never said it was off limits."

"Right, but you didn't exactly give me permis-"

"How are you feeling?"

The question caught Draco off guard, and he ran a hand through his hair. Oh right, he was supposed to be sick today. "I'm . . . still a little dizzy." He followed this statement by placing a hand on his forehead and looking down at the ground. It was a rather poor show, and both Draco and Severus knew it. The professor raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"I see you've also taken the liberty of trying out my bed."

Now he was in for it. No professor would like them sitting in their bed. It was like animals with their territory. "Well, I did sit down for a minute," he confessed, shrugging his shoulders lightly. Severus merely grinned. "I suppose if you're feeling well enough to take a shower and observe my bedroom, you can surely bear the walk to your dormitory." Draco looked crestfallen. He avoided his professor's gaze by staring at the wall to his right, his brow furrowed.

"Professor . . . I wanted to talk to you. I couldn't last night, because I- I don't know." Right, like he was going to tell his head of house he was nervous. However, Severus seemed to guess that on his own, and nodded knowingly before musing to the door which led to the hallway. Draco exited, and Snape followed at his heels. Back to the living room they went, where Severus lit a fire and sat down on the couch, musing for Draco to do the same.

Still nervous, and feeling more awkward than he had last night, he cleared his throat. "Well, my father just got cleared of charges from the Ministry," he paused to see Severus nod and wait for him to continue, "and ever since he's been back, home just hasn't been the same. It's awful, mother left last year, and hasn't written to me in months." By now Draco's voice had a hint of desperate hysteria, like when one was about to go into tears. Severus looked nearly alarmed, but waited for him to continue. "He wants me to come back this winter break again, and I- I don't know if I can."

Severus looked gravely at Draco, the shadows under his eyes more prominent as he leaned his head forward in a silent nod. "And why can't you?" he said calmly, his hands folded in his lap while he waited for the young Malfoy to continue his story. He bent his head, composing himself, and continued in a small voice.

"He's . . . he's insufferable. When in company, he's as nice as can be, especially around the Ministry and their employment, but . . ." he seemed reluctant to go on, afraid of the consequences if he told Severus what it was Lucius had been doing to him. He looked up at his professor quietly. Could he really trust this man? He was friends with his father, wasn't he? What if he was waiting for Draco to tell him, so he could rat him out on Lucius and-

No. That was ridiculous. Over the six going on seven years he had been here, Severus had been nothing but protective of him.

"Does he hurt you?"

His head snapped up when he heard Severus speak, and his blue eyes had become slightly fearful. It was a yes or no question, but he didn't give either as an answer. "Well, I don't know if it could really be classified as-"

"Does he hurt you, Mr. Malfoy?"

His tone had a bit of impatience in it that Draco wasn't keen about. ". . . Yes."

They sat in silence for a minute, Draco's eyes on the ground and Severus' eyes on his student. "And you don't want to go home because he will hurt you again?"

Draco nodded.

And that seemed all the convincing that Severus needed. "Then what do you propose to do, Mr. Malfoy?" The latter simply stared at his shoes, his brow furrowed again. "I was hoping you could help me with that, Professor . . ." He then looked up to Severus expectantly. His expression had gone from frustrated and frightened to just needing. He needed a refuge, anywhere but his father's home to stay before he became of age and could move out. And he needed someone he could trust, and rely on if things got bad. He was hoping it could be the man next to him.

Severus could sense this, and he raised a hand to rest it on Draco's shoulder in reassurance, before he stood up from the couch. "I will tell the Headmaster that you will be staying with me, and inform your father that you have chosen an extra credit assignment in my class that will take up your vacation time and require you to stay at Hogwarts." Draco looked light hearted, and certainly relieved. "Thank you, Professor."

"In the meantime, you should be resting. If you certainly are dizzy, then you can't be walking around and taking showers in the middle of the day."

"Yes, Professor."

And he nearly skipped back to the guestroom. Nearly. The weight of the world was off his shoulders, and he could breathe easily once more. He hadn't felt this good since his father had been sent to Azkaban. He opened the guest bedroom door and slipped inside, not even minding that he was wearing the same clothes he had worn yesterday, or that his hair needed a good shampooing.

He had a feeling this was going to be the best damn Christmas ever.

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TBC. And yes, the Igor mentioned in the letter is none other than Karkaroff. Not sure if the letter scene actually had any meaning, I just like paying attention to detail sometimes and adding useless things.