Chapter 32

Negotiation

xxx

"I am trying!" Harry defended himself. "How would you even know? It's not as if you've been around to observe my every action; you're judging based on my reaction to Severus' treatment of me."

"Harry," Hermione ground out irritably; she glared at him for a moment, and then sighed, attempting to get control of her temper. Rubbing her forehead and slumping her shoulders in concession, she moved to sit next to him on the bed. "I thought you understood how much he's going through. You can't expect him to be perfectly cheerful after a day like this, when it's a struggle just for him to be tolerant."

"Well, I know, it's just-" Harry paused for a moment. "I don't know. But aren't I allowed to be upset every once in awhile? Do I have to be agreeable all the time?"

"No, I suppose that would be asking too much. But I just don't think you realize how… well, childlike you are being, and how… potentially unpleasant you are making it for Professor Snape to be around you right now."

"Yeah, well, that's why he sent me to bed, isn't it?" Harry retorted grudgingly. "So he could rid himself of my presence."

"I doubt that's the case," Hermione said. "More so you can calm down and think rationally before he gets a final answer from you. He just wants to make it as easy as possible for you to do what's best in this situation; it's almost quite touching, Harry. I don't think I ever would have believed that he was so caring an individual. Well, caring isn't the right word," she allowed, at Harry's dubious look. "Just… attentive… receptive. Wise; a good guardian- provider of guidance, I guess. I suppose in all his years of teaching, he's learned how to effectively deal with minors, even if he hasn't really bothered himself with doing so… until now. Be thankful, Harry. You have someone to take care of you now; you don't have to make all the decisions on your own."

Harry remained silent, and Hermione sat with him for another few moments. "Well, I suppose I'd better go," she finally said, rising from the bed and smoothing out her skirt. "Think about what I've said, and do try to be a bit more patient. Rome wasn't built in a day, you know."

It was with that final note that she left Harry alone, and entered the main rooms once more. Severus was sitting on his couch, gazing thoughtfully into the flames he'd kindled in the fireplace.

"Well," she said, a bit awkwardly. "I- umm- thank you for having me here, tonight, Professor. I expect you'll be contacting me if I'm needed again?"

"Certainly," Severus said with a nod, and tearing his eyes from the warm light, he raised his eyebrows. "And in the future, Miss Granger, you might take care to place a silencing charm on the rooms in which you intend to speak so audaciously."

Hermione flushed a deep color, and Severus nodded. "I suppose I should thank you for your… ah… support- though I beg you not to begin a silly campaign for me, like the S.P.E.W. organization you attempted to orchestrate in your fourth year. That would be most unnecessary."

"I recognize that, sir," she muttered quietly, willing the pink color still tinting her cheeks to go away. "I'm sorry if I said anything that was out of line… but I felt it was better coming from me than… well, you have to understand that Harry will always forgive his friends."

"I… understand," Severus said with difficulty, as though it pained him to agree with Hermione Granger. "The adults in his life have consistently failed him, and he feels I'm bound to do the same. Hence, I have exercised a certain amount of leniency with him… trying as that may have been."

"Well," Hermione said, looking at the ground. "For what it's worth, I think you're doing an excellent job."

Severus had the grace to nod, but could hardly bring himself to say thank you. He wasn't sure, after all, that she was right.

"Yes, well," he said, rising from the couch. "I'm certain I'll be seeing you tomorrow," he said, opening the door for her to exit. Clearly being dismissed, she did so, bidding him a polite goodnight on her way out.

Finally, Severus was alone.

xxx

"It's nearly noon, are you going to get up or are you going to stay in there and sulk all day?"

Harry sat up groggily, rubbing the back of his head. He hadn't meant to sleep so late, but apparently, he'd been much more tired than he'd realized. His door was still shut, so that was something; Severus was respecting his privacy. That was nice; with a stab of guilt, Harry realized that after last night, he wouldn't have expected that courtesy. At least, not from his Aunt and Uncle.

"I'll be up in a minute," Harry reluctantly replied. He would have liked to go back to sleep until Monday, when Severus would be back to classes. He hardly wanted to face the man after… well. Hermione had been right, and he was ashamed, to say the least. What had he been so angry about? What had driven him to act like that?

He rose and pulled on the pair of trainers nearest to his bed. He fetched the shirt he'd been wearing yesterday from the hook on the back of the door, and donning it, left his room.

He was greeted by the pleasant smell of breakfast foods; odd, considering Severus had said it was already noon. The older man was seated at his table, sipping a cup of what looked to be coffee, and looking over a copy of the Daily Prophet. He wasn't reading it, though; his eyes were fixed in one spot, staring unseeingly at the middle of the page. Harry suspected, with a wave of relief, that he was saving Harry the awkwardness of meeting his intense gaze as he walked across the room. He was making himself look preoccupied, in order to… was it to put Harry at ease?

"I thought it was noon," Harry said quietly. Severus looked up at him and set the paper aside. "It was, but when nine came around and you were still soundly asleep, I decided it would be a good time to make the potions you'll be using as constants in class this week. I suppose I got a bit carried away in it."

"Oh," Harry said, looking down at his hands resting on the back of the chair.

"You may sit, you realize," Severus said slowly, and Harry realized he hadn't done so yet.

Wordlessly, the younger boy sat, and Severus regarded him for a moment. "Well," he said, sounding atypically ill at ease. "Would you… care for breakfast?" The expression on his face was one of forced politeness, and wasn't very convincing, but Harry appreciated it anyways.

"Yeah, thanks," he said quietly. Severus nodded and moved to fix them each a plate. He hoped the boy realized how very hard he was trying; because he really was. He had never been one for small talk or pleasant conversation over meals, but after his snappishness yesterday, Harry's subsequent behavior, and Miss Grangers subtle hints alluding to his temper, he decided that he would have to put in the effort. After all, as a child, he'd never enjoyed the wordless family dinners he'd been forced to endure… in fact, at times, they'd been downright excruciating to tolerate. He was determined not to force the same experience upon Harry.

Severus set a plate out in front of the boy, and returned to his own seat. "I thought this might be a good time to discuss what you'd like to do during the Christmas Holidays," Severus commented idly, careful to sound delicately impassive.

Harry looked up in surprise; Severus wanted to talk about this? He had firmly expected to be reprimanded for his behavior from before… but he wasn't going to bring it up now, if Snape was willing to avoid the subject for the moment.

"What did you have in mind?" Harry asked.

"Well, I haven't any favorite Holiday pastimes, if that's what you're asking. I know you've always stayed here or visited the Weasleys, however, and don't wish to force you away from those traditions, if you're so inclined to have them."

"No," Harry quickly said. "I mean, I'd like to see the Weasleys at some point, yeah, but…"

"Well," Severus said a bit more casually than Harry believed was natural, "I could make arrangements for us to… leave, if you'd like."

"Leave where?"

"Well, I normally spend my summers and other time outside of Hogwarts in a small house… modest, not very lovely… in a muggle neighborhood, but now that the Dark- Voldemort," he bit the name out, "is out for my blood… I think returning there would be foolish. I have a manor- inheritance, from my family, that I've left untouched for years- but it's hidden, and it's adequate to my- to our needs, if you'd like to go there."

"I'd like to see it… yes," Harry said, a bit more hopefully than he'd hoped to express himself. "That is, if you're alright with it."

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I weren't," Severus commented dryly. "Well, we can do that then… and I'm sure the Weasleys would love to see you on Boxing Day, if you'd like to go then."

"Yes, I'd like that very much."

"And you may of course see more of your friends, if you wish," Severus added dispassionately, focusing on his plate. Not surprisingly, kindness was proving to be one of the most difficult emotions for Severus to allow himself to reveal as he came to know Harry. It was a feeling and an action he'd grown quite unaccustomed to displaying in the past 16 years.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly. Severus nodded curtly. The two sat in silence for the following fifteen minutes, each man focusing intently on the food in front of him, but neither paying much attention to its actual consumption.

"I'm really sorry," Harry said after a while, not quite meeting Snape's eyes. "I was out of line last night."

"You were," Severus agreed stiffly, nodding. "I'm glad you can see that."

"Well, I had a bit of a push," Harry admitted.

"I heard."

Both smiled slightly at that. It could never be said that Hermione was meant to be a Ravenclaw; despite her brains, she didn't lack one ounce of the Gryffindor boldness her House was famous for.

"I just… it was a bit overwhelming, all that, after all that had just happened," Harry explained rather lamely, picking up his fork and pushing his food around the plate. "I'm not very good at controlling my temper," he admitted, looking back up at Severus.

"Well," Severus said, a stern expression replacing the slightly softer one he'd held before, "I suggest that you attempt to improve that particular skill. I fear that my recent leniency with you may give you the notion that I will allow this sort of behavior in the future; do not be mistaken, it will not. I still demand the same respect of you as I did when you were merely my student, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied quietly.

"Understand that I will hold you to this agreement in the future," Severus said, evaluating Harry's expression carefully. He was surprised that this had not elicited a resentful reaction from the boy; if experience had taught him anything, it was that Harry Potter was nothing if not impertinent to authority and too arrogant to follow the rules. The look on Harry's face, however, displayed neither of those feelings.

"Now," Severus said, assuming a more conversational tone. "I can understand if you'd like to speak to Draco Malfoy yourself," he conceded. "I offer you a compromise; you may negotiate with him, but I will be present. I want to make sure that nothing escapes our attention; this is very important."

"That's agreeable enough," Harry said, nodding. "Thank you."

Severus nodded, and they finished their meals in comfortable silence.

xxx

"How much blood do you need?" Hermione asked from atop the cleared table, examining, with a small amount of trepidation, the silver knife she was holding in her hands. Severus narrowed his eyes, running his finger over the text of the aged book they were using, and tapping at a spot on the page, his brow creasing. He looked up at Hermione with some concern.

"Harry," he said, picking up several vials and moving to her side. "Go to my store cupboard, and find the blood replenishing potion, please. It's labeled as such."

Harry wordlessly obeyed, and Severus turned to Hermione. "It would be better if you let me."

She winced slightly, but handed over the knife. "I suppose," she allowed, watching him warily as he sterilized the knife. "How much?" she repeated, glancing at the collection of vials he'd brought over.

"We should fill five of those," he admitted morosely. "The same amount from myself, and with some luck, Malfoy."

Hermione's eyes had widened slightly, but at his command, she held out her shaking arm and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

"Isn't there some spell we could use to extract the blood from her?" Harry asked from Severus side, having returned with the requested potion. "I mean, some less gruesome way."

"Doubtful," Severus said sardonically, glancing at his charge. "Without the training of a mediwitch, there's no way to know just where you are drawing the blood from- it could prove quite severe if a mistake were to be made."

"Oh," Harry muttered rather lamely.

"Quite," Severus murmured, running his eyes up and down Hermione's arm, searching for the telling sign of a vein in a dark purple streak. "I think," he said, pressing the cool edge of the knife to a spot just below the crook of her elbow, "that we can cut right there, and extract enough blood without severing the vein or causing uncontrollable bleeding."

"You think?" Hermione asked, voice high and frightened.

"Never fear, Miss Granger," Severus drawled, making the incision. "You're in safe hands." His tone was cynical and mordant at best, but nevertheless, believable.

"What, because you've bled so many people?" Hermione inquired in a mildly frantic, uptight tone, as if challenging his previous statement.

His gaze flickered to hers, and with his silence, she understood. He had; he was a Death Eater- the main Potions provider to Voldemort and his followers. He had of course done this before. Ironically… this notion relaxed her a bit.

"I'm going to make the incision here, Harry," Severus said, indicating a spot on her arm with the blade of his knife and handing Harry one of the vials. "I shall need your assistance."

Glancing first at Hermione's expression, Severus made a quick but precise movement with the blade of the knife, creating a deep but short gash in the crook of her arm.

"This is disgusting," Harry muttered, holding the vial below Hermione's arm for the blood to run into, as he had been instructed to do. What didn't make it into the vial was running onto his hands, and he didn't enjoy it one bit.

"Do try to make sure none of it is wasted," Severus barked, seeing the mess dripping from Harry's hands onto the clean stone floor. "We wouldn't want Miss Granger dying from blood loss due to your carelessness."

"Dying?" Hermione whispered in a strangled voice.

"Forgive me," Severus said evenly, raising an eyebrow.

"But-"

"You will not die," he snapped in annoyance. "Now please, I am trying to concentrate!"

Hermione sucked in a dry sob, and Severus' eyes widened infuriately. "Miss Granger!"

This, of course, did not help, and more of these desperate, girlish sounds followed.

"Hermione, it's not a big deal-"

"I have a problem with blood, alright Harry?" Hermione snapped, choking back another sob. "It's just upsetting."

"You might have mentioned that before volunteering for this job," Severus growled, and then with a lightly sadistic touch to his tone, added, "I could have cut Weasley open instead."

"If she faints, you're going to regret it, Severus," Harry said, earning himself another caustic admonishment.

"There," Severus said about ten minutes later, as he put the final touch on the bandage he'd strapped onto Hermione's arm and gave her the last bottle of blood replenishing potion. "Not so bad, was it?"

"Speak for yourself," Hermione complained in a low voice, finishing off her series of potions.

Severus shrugged unapologetically and began to clean up his lab.

"We can do mine last of all, about two weeks from now, but we'll need Malfoy's soon," Severus said. "Miss Granger and I will be starting on the preparatory stage of the potion soon here, Harry; why don't you pen a missive requesting his presence in this lab later tonight? You can speak to him then."

"I suppose," Harry said. "May I borrow some parchment and a quill?"

"Yes, go into my office. They're in the top left drawer of my desk- and touch nothing else, for I shall know!" He called out after Harry, who was already walking through the door, rolling his eyes. Oh well, it was one step up; normally, Severus wouldn't have allowed Harry anywhere near his desk.

"I trust," Severus said, turning back to Hermione, "that you have already perused the text on preparation?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed, nodding vigorously.

"Good," Severus replied. "Once you have ensured the cauldron we will be using is properly cleaned and sterilized, you may begin the formula for the dilution of the blood. It is of utmost importance that you perform this step with grievous care, you realize. If it's too strong, it will become highly volatile when we begin adding more to the potion."

"I'll do my best, sir."

"I don't want your best, I just want it done right," Severus growled, narrowing his eyes at her.

Rather than retort, Hermione nodded and went to work. Glad for this, Severus headed to his office to make note of the steps they were taking, for later reference in case something should go wrong.

As Severus might have expected, the moment he entered his office, there was a flurry of movement and a slamming of his desk drawer as Harry rushed to stash something that he'd found.

"Can I not trust you for five minutes alone in this office?" Severus barked angrily, taking quick strides towards his desk.

"I didn't mean to!" Harry yelled, scooting away from the desk.

Severus came to his desk and flattened his hands against it, glaring down at Harry. "You have five seconds to tell me what you were doing, before I find out myself and punish you like never before."

Harry hurriedly opened the drawer and grabbed at something, thrusting a small photograph at the Potions Master. "I swear, that's all I was looking at," he said, sitting back in Severus' chair.

Severus looked down at the picture in his hands. It was a photo of himself and Lily; she was laughing into his shoulder, and he was holding her with an amused smile on his face.

"I'm surprised you have pictures of her," Harry said quietly, looking down at the floor.

Severus nodded. "I forgot I had this," he said, running his callused thumb over it. "What were you digging for?"

"Ink," Harry replied, shrugging. Severus rolled his eyes and lifted a small black jar from his desk, opening it.

"Behold," he said, waving it under Harry's nose. "Ink."

"Right," Harry said sheepishly, grimacing. Severus shook his head and looked back down at the photo.

"Why were you so desperate to hide this?" Severus inquired, looking back up at Harry.

"I thought you would be angry with me."

"Angry about the photograph, or the fact that you were rummaging through my desk?"

"Both."

Severus considered Harry for a moment, holding the photo in his hands. He realized he'd hardly shared any of his past with the boy; naturally, the child must think he didn't intend to.

"Would you like this?" Severus asked, extending the picture.

Harry stared at him, his eyes a bit wide, for a moment. "Do you mean that?"

"When are you going to learn that I always mean what I say?" Severus asked, shaking his head.

Harry reached out and took the picture, smiling slightly. "Thank you," he murmured quietly.

Severus nodded and came around the desk to clasp Harry's shoulder, guiding him up and away from the chair. "Now," he said, his tone resuming its customary formality. "Why don't you go sit in the lab and write your letter, since you can't seem to resist the allure of my ever intriguing and oh so fascinating desk-"

"I was looking for ink!"

Severus chuckled quietly and gave Harry a light push into the next room.

xxx

It was four o' clock when two letters found their way into Malfoy's hands.

Malfoy wasn't at all amused that the Potions Master had decided to interrupt his planned evening with Pansy, to meet with Potter, no less. He was perfectly aware that the older man had set the time for a reason, but did it have to be so damned inconvenient?

Muttering angrily under his breath, Malfoy made his way down to the Potions classroom. He was walking briskly; it had been made perfectly clear in the letter following Potter's that though Harry was the one whom Malfoy would be speaking with, Snape would be overseeing the entire affair, and Malfoy was not to be late. He didn't think testing his Head of House's patience seemed like an entirely brilliant plan.

xxx

"He's late," Severus muttered, glancing up at the clock.

"By two minutes," Harry said, hiding a smile. So maybe his father wasn't as biased as he appeared to be. "Are you going to take points?"

"From my own house? Of course not," Severus replied, smirking.

…Or maybe he was.

A knock sounded at the door. "You can let him in," Severus said, folding his arms. He wasn't looking forward to this next hour, but he could see that if he didn't get it over with now, Harry would just meet with the boy behind his back, and that was the last thing Severus wanted.

Harry nodded and did as he was told.

"You're late," he said, as Malfoy walked through the door. Malfoy threw him an annoyed glare and turned to his head of house.

"You wanted to speak to me?"

"No, Harry wanted to speak to you," Severus said, nodding towards his son. "I'm just here to watch."

"Oh," Malfoy said, smirking knowingly. "Working on your impulse control there, Potter?"

"Oh, I trust Harry," Severus said, placing his hands behind him on his desk. "I'm here because I've yet to find reason for trusting you."

"Well," Malfoy sneered, throwing a nasty glance in Severus' direction. "There's a surprise. I should have known you wouldn't trust me, despite the repeated demonstrations of loyalty I've shown."

"Only because I know all too well of deceit, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said restrainedly, clasping his hands in front of him, careful to guard his tongue. He'd already been warned by Dumbledore not to push the boy away, but after years of showing the boy favor in interest of remaining on good terms with his father, it was difficult not to finally show his true feelings when he no longer had to keep the pretenses of loyal death eater and devoted friend to Lucius Malfoy.

"Yes, you certainly used a lot of it to get where you are today, didn't you sir?" Malfoy inquired with a delicately checked expression, balancing between innocent curiosity and outright jest.

"Just whose side are you on, Malfoy?" Harry interjected, imitating his fathers glare all too well.

"I wasn't referring to his betrayal of the Dark Lord," Malfoy answered, smirking.

"Draco," Severus said warningly, gaining the boy's attention.

"Ah, I understand. Some things are best kept between friends, right Severus?"

"I did not give you permission to use my first name," Severus snapped irritably. "And I suggest you work a little harder to earn my respect, because we are least of all friends. If you can't prove to me that you are worthy of higher standing in my eyes, then you shall remain from this point forward nothing more than a student, and not a well liked one at this rate."

"Yes sir," Malfoy replied, careful to keep his tone just shy of insolence. "Well, I suppose we should get down to the reason for my being here."

"I agree," Severus said stiffly. "Harry," he nodded towards the boy, indicating his turn to talk.

It was at this point that Harry realized he hadn't any form of plan for the coming conversation. He thought he'd had a pretty good idea of why he wanted to talk to Malfoy about when he'd demanded to do so, but upon reflection, he realized he'd really just wanted control for the sake of control. What was the point of this? Why hadn't he just let Severus handle this?

Well, if he was going to be an Auror, he was going to have to learn how to deal with people in these situations. He decided the direct route was best for now; simple questions that Malfoy couldn't talk his way out of.

"First of all," Harry began, "I want to know from you just why you are refusing to help Dumbledore."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and looked around lackadaisically. He didn't answer right away; rather, he singled out a chair on the other side of the room and pulled out his wand, flicking it and making it scoot across the room to him. He sat down at his own leisure, and then looked back up at Harry.

"I would think," he said, sitting back and crossing one leg over his other knee, "that you of all people would understand just why I don't want to be working for Dumbledore. Yes, Potter, I do mean working for; after all, by agreeing to give you and Professor Snape inside information, I am helping. The answer is simple; I do not wish to be under the control of a man who's lived so many years and had so many victories that he forgets his own infallibility. Power and praise delude one's sense of wisdom. He's so confident in the choices he makes that he overlooks all the small details, and sees people as a means to achieve an end, rather than as knowledgeable allies who have something significant to offer. He's rather like the Dark Lord himself, aside from the fact that his goals are much different and his tactics less severe."

"Dumbledore is nothing like the Dark Lord," Harry defended the headmaster, although he wasn't sure why.

"If that were true," Malfoy said smoothly, sitting forward, "do you really think that he would be the only wizard He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ever feared?"

Harry's brow lowered slightly as he considered this. He didn't quite understand. "What are you getting at?"

"The Dark Lord fancies himself the most powerful wizard in the world," Malfoy said, narrowing his icy grey eyes and lowering his voice, as though the slow rhythm of his voice and intense look on his face might, in and of itself, sway his adversary's opinion. "He believes his strategic way of thinking and powerful skills at manipulation are what set him apart from other wizards; these two things have never failed him. His attempt at immortality, however, did fail him, as do his uses of intimidation and blackmail- case A, Severus Snape," Malfoy said, jerking his head over his shoulder. "Dumbledore doesn't use the latter two, but he does possess that one skill that has never failed even the Dark Lord himself. The ability to use people as tools and strategize.

"Dumbledore's power is impressive, yes, but I believe the Dark Lord is more fearful of what might happen if he attempts to kill Dumbledore directly. What does he think might happen? Well, he can only guess, because he knows that Dumbledore's logic is at the same level as his own. He knows that Dumbledore thinks the same way.

"Now ask yourself this: if I don't wish to join the Dark Lord because I don't wish to be controlled, why would I wish to join someone who uses the same logic?"

Now Harry could see what Severus had meant when he'd said Draco Malfoy could talk circles around him. He wasn't even sure what had just been said to him, but somehow, it made perfect sense in his mind. He'd gained one insight from that explanation, and he knew it was making him feel exactly how Malfoy had intended.

Severus was watching Harry and Malfoy carefully. He knew he'd have to deal with this later; Harry would no doubt be scrutinizing Dumbledore's actions very carefully, and more attention than necessary would be drawn to the man's every fault.

"I suppose that makes sense," Harry responded, trying to appear unfazed. However, for the life of him, he couldn't remember why he had doubted Malfoy's reasons for avoiding comradeship with Dumbledore. He knew he had to keep asking questions, though; he might never get the chance, otherwise. At least, not with Severus here, and he could confess now that he rather liked having the other man in the room.

"I believe your next question would most likely be, 'why are you joining the Death Eaters?'," Malfoy said snidely, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be asking the questions here," Harry objected, mildly irritated.

"Oh, I'm wrong then?" Malfoy inquired sardonically, raising his eyebrows.

"Mr. Malfoy," Severus interjected from his side of the room. "You are here to answer Mr. Potter's questions, not direct him away from the questions you don't want to answer. Kindly restrict your remarks to factual rejoinders to Mr. Potter's inquiries."

"Fine," Malfoy replied calmly, turning around to face Harry again. "Your next question then, Mr. Potter."

"Yes," Harry said, trying to appear as calm and collected as the other two in the room were. How did they stay so… stoic? "I-" he paused, and then realized that there was nothing else for it. He could think of only one question. "Why do you want to become a Death Eater?"

Malfoy suppressed a snicker, mainly for the sake that Severus was in the room, and composed himself before answering. "I don't want to become a Death Eater, Potter," he said.

Damn. A good answer.

"Fine then," Harry said, sounding a bit more frustrated and petulant than he'd meant to be. "Why are you joining the Death Eaters?"

"Because I have no other choice," Malfoy replied simply.

"Mr. Malfoy," immediately came Severus' dangerous voice.

"What?" he replied exasperatedly. "You asked me for nothing more than simple, factual rejoinders, correct?"

"I said factual. There was no mention of simplicity. Elaborate."

"In which way, Professor?" Malfoy inquired sweetly.

"I want to know," Harry said, voice raised, before Severus could bite out a retort. "Why you have no other choice."

"Judging by the skeptical tone to your voice, I'd say you don't believe this is true, Potter."

"At the moment, I don't."

"It's complicated."

"So explain to me. What makes it so complicated?"

"Plenty of things," Malfoy replied. "My father, my desire to live-"

"Money? Selfish motivations-?"

" –the desire to provide valuable information for you!" Malfoy continued, voice finally raised above that level of calm he'd kept it at. "You know, I would think you'd be a little more grateful for my help-"

"This isn't about you, Malfoy!"

"Oh," Malfoy said, standing up and throwing his out arms exaggeratedly. "So it's about you?"

"Yes, it's about me," Harry replied. "For once, this can be about me. You're right, Malfoy, I do know better than anyone else how it feels to be manipulated, and I'm sick of it. It's time I start taking things into my own hands."

"Isn't that what got you in trouble before?" Malfoy retorted smartly.

"Before I had another pair of hands to guide me, instead of control me?" Harry replied, gaze flickering to Severus. "Yes. But now I'm being given the opportunity to start doing this on my own, and I'll be damned if I turn it into a meaningless argument rather than an informational inquiry. And I hate to break it to you, Draco Malfoy, but if we win, you have nothing without me. You are in no position to dictate the terms of this discussion. Right now, you are depending on me and my goodwill, because I don't have to do a thing for you."

Severus was fighting hard against his urge to smile- after all, it would be a highly inappropriate time to praise his son…. But he was so… proud. For once, he'd shown an ounce of wit and taken the situation into his own hands without any flashy shows of bravery or impulsiveness. He'd been almost Slytherin about it. Granted, he hardly delivered this little speech with the same cool, contemptuous air with which Severus himself would have done, but he was recognizing that he had power, and he was wielding it. That was good enough for Severus.

"So," Harry said, easing the silence that had descended upon the room. "Why, specifically, do you have no choice?

For a moment, both Harry and Severus were doubtful as to whether or not Malfoy would reply. The expression on his face was one of pure indecision; they could easily see that he was battling with himself whether or not to answer the question he was being asked. This could be attributed to the fact that Severus was in the room, and Malfoy knew that if anyone could recognize a lie, it was his Head of House. It could also be attributed to the fact that once Malfoy started giving up information, he was essentially handing Harry the reigns on his life. Anything he said could be used against him.

Apparently, Malfoy decided that he'd rather give Harry the control… as opposed to Voldemort, who was likely to be far more brutal.

"The Dark Lord is preparing to take on an apprentice," he started resignedly, gazing down at the floor. "Why, I'm not sure, yet, but it has been made clear that all the Death Eaters' children are to begin training. If I had to wager a guess, I'd say it's so that he can ensure that he has our allegiances before we are adults, and able to make our own decisions. My father has been… particularly hard on me. I doubt he'd take it very well if I informed him of my reluctance to join."

"You couldn't turn against him?"

"He's my father, Potter!" Malfoy bit out. "He's always been hard on me, but I still- I still care for him. If you had to choose between your family and a group of prejudiced, self-righteous vigilantes who didn't give a damn about you, what would you do?"

"Doesn't sound like there's much difference between the two, if you just exchange vigilante for the word criminal!"

"Harry!" Severus admonished, gaining the boy's attention. "That was uncalled for."

"Yes, sir," Harry responded grudgingly, returning his attention to Malfoy.

"Listen," Malfoy said resentfully, rising from his chair. "I know you don't understand what it's like to be raised the way I was, but it's not so easily done to just turn on your family like that." He snapped his fingers to emphasize the point, and circled around Harry.

"I know you want my wholehearted devotion for your cause, Potter, but the hard fact is that you won't gain it. You're going to have to settle for what you get, or depend on someone else to give you inside information for you, because I'm not teaming up with Dumbledore or any other of you crusaders for the light. I just won't."

Harry knew he was being given an ultimatum, but he also knew he'd be a fool to turn it down. Severus had made it quite clear to him, earlier that day, that they needed to begin their potion as soon as possible. Draco Malfoy was currently the only person that could guarantee them those few ingredients needed from the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. If he turned the other boy down now, and needed him later, Malfoy would be the one with control of the situation, not Harry. He'd be forced to bargain with the Slytherin, and do whatever he could to get his help. It seemed simpler to agree now.

"Fine," Harry replied, crossing his arms. "But you're going to have to do a lot to earn my trust."

"I haven't done enough already?" Malfoy asked incredulously.

"No," Harry replied, shaking his head. "You'll have to start by getting these things-" he paused to pull the folded list of ingredients out of his pocket. Behind him, Severus rolled his eyes at the crumpled state of the parchment. "We need them relatively soon- as soon as possible. I will also expect you to report weekly to Sever- Professor Snape, to, umm-"

"Just report to me weekly, Mr. Malfoy, or whenever you receive valuable information," Severus spoke up, laughing inwardly at the ironic combination of Harry's authorative manner, but relative lack of finesse. "Harry, is there anything else you wish to ask Mr. Malfoy?"

"No," Harry replied. "For now."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"You're released, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said, nodding at the pale haired boy. "Be wary that curfew falls in half an hour's time; I advise you to be back at the Slytherin common room at that time."

"Yes, sir," Malfoy replied. He sounded disappointed, making Harry think Severus had knowingly put an end to whatever mischief Malfoy had planned to get up to this night.

Malfoy gave Severus a nod goodnight, and left, paying no further attention to Harry. Once he was gone, Harry made his way over to Severus' desk and slumped down into the chair.

"That went miserably," he commented, fingering the parchments on Severus' desk.

"I think you handled it quite well," Severus said, a faint smile playing around his lips. "For a first time interrogator, that is," he teased, cuffing a hand over Harry's shoulder and steering him upwards.

"You're just saying that," Harry complained, though he was surprised to hear the sullenness disappearing from his own voice. Apparently, Severus' words of praise were more uplifting than he would have thought.

"I'm not," Severus defended himself, walking with Harry to the door. "I'm sure," he said, softening his voice and turning Harry to look him in the eye, "that you will make a fine auror, when all of this is said and done."

Harry was stunned by the combination of the kind look on Severus' face and the gentle note of his voice. It was the most sincere he'd ever seen the man. "Thank you," he said softly, smiling.

Severus inclined his head to the side, and then opened the door. "Can I trust you to make it to your common room before curfew?"

"Yes," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Be sure you do," Severus advised, raising his eyebrows. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, sir."

xxx End Chapter xxx