"Headmaster," Severus greeted the old man, as he lowered himself into a fluffy purple armchair. It spoke to the level of his pain and exhaustion that Severus Snape would consent to sit in that egregiously colorful abomination. He glanced to the other side of the room and saw where Moody was presumably stuck to a chair with a silencing spell on him. Severus breathed an internal sigh of relief that he hadn't brought Harry along.

"I have heard some disturbing accusations today, Severus," Albus said non-chalantly.

"I hope you have," Severus shot back in an acerbic tone. "What is the meaning of letting Moody torture your Golden Boy?"

"Severus, I - " Albus began.

"Don't 'Severus' me," he seethed. "You haven't seen Potter lately, have you?"

"No, I haven't," Albus admitted.

"Forcing the brat to cast Unforgivables is hardly good for his mental stability or his soul," Severus continued. "You might as well have asked him to become a Death Eater. And what is the meaning of allowing Draco's or my deaths? I'm your spy, and Draco is your student."

"I knew nothing of this, I assure you," Albus replied sadly. "I arranged for Alistair to train Harry in some advanced Defense spells. It never occurred to me that he would overstep his bounds that much."

"It never occurred to you to check?" Severus challenged, his eyes narrowed.

"Would you have checked, Severus, if someone you trusted were mentoring Draco?"

"And how did Lucius get out of Azkaban?" Severus dodged.

"He should still be in Azkaban," Albus' brow creased in confusion.

"No," Severus drawled, shaking his head. "Lucius Malfoy is currently dead. Moody killed him." Severus couldn't help the shudder that coursed through his body as he remembered seeing Moody's wand pointing between the both of them and that green light being so close to him, instead hitting its mark in Lucius' chest.

"That can't be true," Albus said.

"I assure you, it is," Severus sighed. "Lucius is dead."

"I knew nothing of this," Albus declared. "Alistair, what did you do?" Albus' expression spoke of the betrayal and the bewilderment he felt. He never had been one to easily disguise his emotions unless he had some ulterior motive in mind. Moody motioned to his throat to remind Albus of the silencing charm he was currently under. With a wave of his wand, Albus cancelled it.

"Lucius Malfoy was - useful to me," Moody explained, once he had regained use of his voice. "Sirius Black isn't the only one who can arrange for an escape from Azkaban. I promised Lucius his freedom if he cooperated with my plan to train Potter. Naturally, the corrupt bastard jumped at the bargain, even if it meant the downfall of his master."

Severus did not face the man. He kept his eyes on Albus. "You tortured that boy."

"He brought it on himself," Moody spat. "There is only so much you can do with an unwilling student. I'm sure you understand, Snape?" Severus slowly turned and looked at Moody pointedly.

"You sicken me," he sneered.

"Don't think that you are guiltless in this endeavor," Moody growled.

"Really," Severus drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Explain to me - how am I at fault? You TORTURED him. A water basin, really." Severus took off the metal collar that he still had around his neck and threw it on Albus' desk.

Albus looked at the medieval device that was thrown on his desk and Severus could have sworn that a greenish tinge passed over the Headmaster's face.

"Well,"Moody said. "Look who's acting holier than thou. You know, if you had taught him Occlumency when you were suppose to, then I wouldn't have to do what you failed to do." Minerva let a small gasp at the insinuation. Severus just looked at Alistair. Severus' magic was rolling off of him in waves.

Minerva slowly reached out to her colleague. "Severus," she spoke soothingly. "Severus, calm down."

"Calm down?" he echoed, his voice higher than he intended, making him sound almost hysterical. "Calm down?" He turned to Moody. "I have enough to be responsible for," he said coldly. "I don't need your offenses as well. One wrong doesn't justify another." Severus stepped closer to Moody, and Minerva waited with baited breath, afraid of what he might do when he was this angry. Instead, all Severus did was to lean close and speak in a cold, calm, dangerous voice.

"You're right," Severus began. "I've done many, many horrible and terrible things, and I don't even regret half of them. But I've never tortured a child."

"Oh you with your bleeding heart," Mood sneered. "It's a wonder Harry isn't dead from your watch. You coddled that boy. You indulged him."

Severus had to step back a little. Was he just accused of indulging Harry Potter?

"I plead innocent of all charges," he replied icily. Severus looked down his nose at Moody who was still stuck to his chair. "Albus, I demand that this man be handed over to the Death Eaters. They will know how to give him proper treatment for his crimes. It may save some innocent Muggle somewhere."

"You can't be serious," Albus sighed. "I can't, and will not, hand him over to Death Eaters. Severus, my boy, be reasonable." Severus turned and faced Dumbledore.

"I have just endured and witnessed what Moody has put Potter through. Having that blasted collar on and then having your head dunked in water - is that your idea of being reasonable?" Albus paled a little. Minerva put her hand to her mouth.

"You did not hear the screams that came from those boys. Their pain was unimaginable. It was awful. The Cruciatius is child's play compared to that collar. And then to have your head immersed in water while that blasted collar was activated..." Severus trailed off for a moment. He remembered the anguish and fear of dying that he felt when his head was submerged. Severus collected himself again and looked at the Headmaster. "You wanted a weapon for your war," Severus' voice did not have the same intensity that he had moments ago. "Well, that bastard just broke your weapon. The boy is broken. He's ready to die. I heard him beg for death. He begged me to kill him. Have you ever had a child beg you to kill them?" Severus slumped back down in the chair again. He was more tired than he was when he made the trek from the infirmary. He was more than tired. He was exhausted.

"Albus," Minerva began cautiously, "what do you plan to do with Alistair?" She heard Severus mutter something about "Death Eaters would be too kind." Minerva placed her hand on Severus' shoulder, but he didn't react.

"Alistair," Albus addressed him, ignoring both Minerva and Severus, "why did you do this? I never asked for you to harm Harry. I just wanted him to be ready to face Voldemort."

"I WAS TRAINING HIM!" Moody exclaimed. "All he had to do was listen."

"How odd," Severus muttered. "Potter not listening. Who would've guessed?"

"Listen here, you Death Eater scum," Moody growled. "I've gotten Potter to do a whole lot more than you could." Severus turned and looked at Moody.

"You forced that boy to do Unforgivables. You. Broke. That. Child." Severus enunciated every word as he sat forward. "You came for that boy at night, made him do Unforgivables, and you thought he was succeeding? HARRY WAS PETRIFIED!"

"Severus, calm down," Albus said. Severus attention turned towards the Headmaster.

"You lied to me," Severus' voice dripped with venom. "The entire time, you knew where Potter was. I came here and specifically told you that Potter was missing. You knew. And stop telling me to calm down, old man."

"You wanted him for a detention - "

"An excuse," Severus dismissed with a wave of his hand. "You should know me better by now. I don't come asking you about students escaping my detentions. The least you could have done was told me."

"Severus," Albus intoned sadly, "you do dangerous work, and I know you're loyal." Moody scoffed. "But you are very close to Voldemort, and you keep associations with his other followers as well. There has to be something in this war that you don't know. I can't put all my eggs in one basket, to coin a phrase."

"Thank whatever power there may in heaven that Minerva took my concerns seriously, then," Severus growled. "Albus, I've had my say. I think I have more right to determine that bastard's fate than anyone else in this room. As a representative for both Draco and Harry, I submit my request again - to let me deliver him to the Death Eaters. You know what happened and you know where I stand. I believe my services are better put to use elsewhere." Severus rose wearily and turned to Minerva. "You can find me in the infirmary if you need me. I'm unavailable to anyone else." Then to the whole room, "Good day."

Harry lay in the bed and watched the Potion Master leave the Infirmary.

"I told you that you could trust him," a voice said behind Harry. He turned around and saw that Draco was awake.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. "Draco, I'm sorry." Draco sat up in bed and arched his back, trying to ease some of the lingering pain. He smiled weakly at Harry.

"Sorry for what?" he asked. "What nonsense are you talking about now?" Trying to be inconspicuous, and failing, Draco frowned and nervously touched his throat and removed the collar, now that it was no longer in the presence of its owner. Harry quickly did the same.

"You were never suppose to feel that," Harry said holding the collar in his hand. Draco sighed and looked over at his new friend.

"It's not your fault, Harry," Draco said.

"You weren't suppose to be there," Harry mused. "Why were you there anyway?"

"Professor Snape."

"What?" Harry asked, looking puzzled.

"It's a long story," Draco sighed. "There - there was a meeting today. The Dark Lord - he - he's been trying to make me do things - kill people - and I was going to be all brave and tell him off tonight, and he was supposed to kill me, but Professor Snape forced me to portkey over to the Shack. I was supposed to wait there till he came to collect me."

"Oh," Harry nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault I was born who I was," Draco said, his voice sounding strained, and he looked away.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Harry sat up looking at Draco. Draco shrugged.

"I'm the kid of two Death Eaters," Draco explained, his voice still strained, still looking away. "What other choice would I have expected? An 'Oh, you don't have to be like us if you don't want to. You don't have to take a mark'? I didn't chose my parents and they didn't chose me." Draco sucked in his breath suspiciously.

"You're saying this to the freaking 'Boy-Who-Lived'?" Harry raised one eyebrow up. "Draco, look at me." Slowly, a pair of grey eyes met a pair of green ones. For the first time, Harry saw real pain and sorrow behind his friend's eyes. "What did your father do to you?"

"You're right, I'm sorry," Draco said, shaking his head ruefully. "I shouldn't complain. You have it rough too."

"You're avoiding the question." A shadow passed over Draco's face and he shrugged sadly.

"I'm not good enough for him," he whispered. "He'd hit me, cast curses on me, make me work for hours without any magic." Draco bit his lip. "I think I should feel badly that he's dead, but I can't."

"If I could be so lucky," Harry sighed, leaning against the headboard of the bed. Draco seemed to sit up a little straighter at that.

"Explain," he demanded quickly.

Harry looked over at Draco. He, again, realized that he thought the last statement out loud. He was going to have to work on that, Harry thought. First, Professor Snape and now Draco. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his relatives.

"Let's just say, be happy that you have Professor Snape."

"I am," Draco said gently, sincerely. "And you have him too, now. You're avoiding the question." Draco smiled weakly, throwing Harry's own words back at him. Two could play at this game, especially a Slytherin.

Harry couldn't help the warm feeling of knowing that he had someone in his corner. That he had the scariest, most feared Professor in all of Hogwarts on his side.

"Yeah," Harry gave a small smirk. "But I asked you first."

"I told you," Draco accused. "He hit me and he cursed me. You're scaring me, Harry. If that's you're definition of lucky - what happened to you?"

"Did he starve you?" Harry's voice was low. "Did he lock you away for weeks on end?" Harry didn't wait for Draco to answer. "Did he put bars on your window, put locks on your door, or install a cat flap as a means for you to get fed cold soup once a day?" Draco paled, his eyes went wide, and mutely shook his head.

"God, I'm sorry," he finally gasped, and sunk back into the bed. "Have you told Snape?" Then, he continued, "The closest it ever came to that was spending a night in the dungeons."

"Tell Snape?" Harry looked over at Draco. "What's to tell? Everybody has a belief of what my life is like. You, Professor Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Ron, Hermione." Draco really felt guilty for they way he treated Harry in the beginning. "But this isn't about me," Harry had determination in his voice. "No. No, this is about you. You're skating around the subject. There's something that you're not telling me. And it's fine. Really. I mean, only a few days ago we were sworn enemies. So I know you don't really trust me, but I do hope that one day you will." Draco hung his head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know I've been a pretty terrible person to you. And I do trust you. I have more reason to trust you than you have to trust me. I don't know what you're driving at. If something wasn't quite right - if I messed up the etiquette, or my grades weren't high enough for my father - he would smack me around, sometimes curse me if it was something more serious. Curses went up to and included the Cruciatus." Draco cut himself off and looked away again. He sniffed and dragged his sleeve across his face. "I'm sorry," Draco gasped between hitched breaths. "It's just - If it got really bad, I'd spend the night in the dungeons. I always got fed though."

Harry sighed. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for. I wasn't the nicest person to be around either. I didn't make it any easier." Harry looked over at the blonde-headed boy who was hiding his face from him. "What about your mom?" Draco turned and looked at Harry. "Did your mom ever do anything to you? Or try and stop it?" Draco shook his head, not trusting his voice to answer right away.

"She didn't care," he finally said. "She never did anything. She didn't love me enough to stop what she knew was going on."

Harry looked at Draco. He really looked at the boy. They were the same. Different sides of the same coin. All his life, all he ever wanted was a family. Someone who would love him unconditionally. Draco, he thought, had everything. The name, wealth, and a mom and dad. Things Harry never had or never would have. Harry saw that Draco's life was no better than his own. There was no love in the Malfoy house.