When All is Lost, One is Found

Author: Rinoaebastel

Chapter 55: Friends?

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and gain no profit from this fanfiction other than writing practice. JK Rowling owns Harry Potter.

AN: This story may contain scenes taken from the Harry Potter movies and books, but it's not exact dialogue, just rewording of dialogue or omission. It is not marked.

December, 1996

This had been an idiotic idea, and the moment he walked in, he was reminded why he hated Slughorn's parties. Loudness, gaudy decorations, too many curtained off sections of the room, and teenagers acting either like toddlers or like randy university students. Some looked at him and greeted him in a way they never would outside this party.

Hypocrisy and falseness. He despised it.

One of the more infuriating things was what he was about to do. A few hours ago, Dumbledore tasked him with telling Potter he was leaving and to wish him a good Christmas. He wondered if Dumbledore did that just to annoy him a bit. He could've easily done it himself.

He didn't wish people good holidays if he didn't sincerely wish it for them. And even then, it was rare.

Potter was standing like a statute in the crowd as some people were talking with him. As famous as he was, it was expected, but it irritated him even more that he had to wait to pass the message as if he were waiting to speak to some idol.

His eyes drifted to yet another nuisance of the evening. A seventh year Gryffindor who was behaving like a degrading piece of filth. It was clear from Granger's expression that she was thinking the same as he.

McLaggen's hands couldn't keep to themselves and would randomly touch places on her that showed a lack of respect for the witch. His teeth grinded when he witnessed McLaggen's attempt to lower his hand to an improper area. She slapped his hand away, and he laughed at the look that crossed his face. That boy acted as if he had a right to touch her there.

He'd made a move to intervene, but she'd noticed and shook her head, wordlessly saying she could handle it. It was his responsibility as a teacher to intervene, but he would wait until he finished this task.

She seemed to be handling it well, so he put his focus back onto Potter. He was now talking with Slughorn. This was his chance. He knew the professor wouldn't mind a brief interruption.

He managed to reach the group around Slughorn and his ears caught words about Potter being a prodigy in potions. He wanted to snort at the absurdity. When he arrived at Slughorn's side, the teacher said, "Oh, Severus, we were talking about Harry's skill in potions. You must be proud of him since he was your student."

His eyes turned to Potter with suspicion. When the boy avoided his gaze, he knew he was cheating somehow.

"It must be a talent that developed in a day. I recall he was a mediocre student." Oddly enough, he didn't say it to be cruel rather than to just state a fact. Considering how much he disliked the boy, mediocre was a compliment.

"You're just too strict, Severus."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Potter scurrying to hide behind one of the many golden curtains in the room.

"Excuse me, Horace. I need to attend to a matter with Potter."

Without waiting for his reply, he left the man with a confused expression and walked straight to the curtain, opening it with a harsh movement of his arm. He was greeted by a disgusting sound as a boy spilled the contents of his stomach near his shoes.

His nostrils flared and his body remained unmoved.

"Detention for a month McLaggen." From the corner of his eye, he saw Potter trying to get away. "Stay where you are, Potter."

The boy flinched. "Yes?"

"The headmaster told me to tell you that he won't be around for the holidays and to wish you a Happy Christmas."

Surprise flashed across his face. "Where's he going?"

Ignoring the boy's question, he dedicated a dull look to him, and walked away.

As he walked with the intention of going back to his dark corner, he studied the area in disgust. Just when he reached his corner, a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him. His body tensed, he summoned his wand, and pointed it at the perpetrator's neck.

"Sorry. I-It's me, Professor." He lowered his wand when he realized they were in another curtained space, and Granger had been the one who dared to snatch him.

"Don't do that again. I could've killed you," he said. It was hard not to yell at the witch for doing something so stupid.

She lowered her head, presumably hiding her regret. He looked down to confirm that what he perceived was real. Her hand was still gripping his arm. No one had ever dared to do what this witch did. With a soft pull, he broke the contact, letting her hand drop as he took a step back.

Granger looked at him with those eyes filled with . . . disappointment?

"You have my apologies as well," he said.

"It was my fault, sir. I should have assumed you would react that way."

He found himself unable to maintain the anger that he had.

"Did that disgusting creature with you finally leave?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Merlin, I hope he did. He was a bloody octopus."

"Language, Granger," he replied with an amusing tone.

"Sorry, sir, but you curse more than me."

"At least I have better taste than yours when it comes to the selection of partners."

She looked confused. "You didn't come with anyone."

"Exactly." He lowered his body towards her, trying to appear menacing.

She laughed. "Well, I invited him because he was already going and he seems to be one of the few people around that doesn't treat me like a pariah." Her voice lowered at the last part of her sentence. "Though I wish he did."

"Yes, I understand why."

She raised her head slightly. "My taste is quite different, I assure you."

"Red-haired brainless boys?" He mocked with a clear distaste. Why was he even having a conversation like this with her?

"No." Her tone was clear. "Not ever. He is—was like a brother to me. It would be strange if I were interested in him that way."

He hadn't expected nor needed her to explain that much. Before he could respond, he felt a shiver on his back as an uneasy feeling grew.

It happened whenever she went further than what they had established in their alliance. He had noticed the pattern as his mind recalled the other times he felt the slight and sudden spark in his feelings.

They were looking at each other in silence as the murmur around them raised. The curtains provided them more privacy than he thought because people preferred to spend their time surrounded by others.

The young witch took a step forward, removing some of the distance they had between them. He straightened his body, regaining some terrain with his height.

"What are we?" she whispered, almost with an imperceptible voice that made him think he didn't hear her clearly.

His breath stopped and a sense of panic grew in him. The need to leave that instant was as strong as his love for potions. What was she implying? If she was implying something at all. It was an absurd question. She was his student and his ally.

"Nothing." His voice responded harsher than the normal tone he used with her.

Her head dropped for a moment and he felt he had just crushed her. Hurt her like the others had.

"I thought that we were friends," she replied, looking back at him with a renewed glittering inside her brown eyes, making them softer when one looked at them.

Were they? Perhaps they were.

He had to admit, his life had become more interesting with her in it. He'd shared things with her that he hadn't with anyone else. She'd seen sides of him he often kept hidden, and made him discover sides that even he didn't know he had.

Their talks and their time spent together had been a necessity at first, but he didn't have to talk to her about her cat or about her type of men. He didn't have to allow her around when they weren't working together. Friends did those things.

A sigh escape from his lips and he almost smirked. Friends with this know-it-all. Who would've thought? "I suppose we are." He finally admitted and hoped that she didn't develop the habit of hugging him like she did with her former friends. That would be not only improper but also unnecessary and unpleasant.

She smiled. "I'm glad, friend."

He rolled his eyes and she giggled.

A crash sounded and their heads darted towards the source of the noise. Without a word, Severus pushed the curtain away and saw the cause.

Malfoy...

This was his opportunity to talk to the boy. Filch was shaking him, telling the attendants that the boy was sneaking around.

With long steps, he walked towards them, pushing the students to the side until he reached his target.

"I will take care of him, Filch."

Filch turned to him. "Of course, Professor." The man shoved the boy towards him. He put his hands on Malfoy's shoulder. The boy glared.

Without looking at the curtain Granger was behind, he guided the boy in silence, feeling all eyes on them until they left the classroom. His steps didn't slow until he reached a dark, solitary corridor.

He let his control fall and pushed the boy against the stone wall.

"What in the world do you think you are doing?" He had no time for being subtle or passive with him. That method failed already. "You careless boy."

"I'm doing what I was chosen for," Malfoy answered as his face showed pure hate.

"You don't know what you are doing. Trying to kill the headmaster with a cursed necklace. That's idiotic."

"I was chosen! Not you! It's my time to earn his favour. I won't let you steal my time of glory like you did usurping my father's place!"

He wanted to slap the boy. Power. Power. Power. He was so sick of that word. The Dark Lord was using the boy like he did all of them. It was clear to everyone that Lucius' punishment occurred because of his own mistakes.

"Are you insane, Draco?" He was paler than normal. Skinnier. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days. The stress was eating him. "You need help. Both of us know you can't do it. You are not a murderer. I made the vow to your mother. You're going to get both of us killed."

Draco gave him a smug smile. "I don't care. It's your problem not mine, and I don't need your help." The boy moved his shoulder, freeing himself from his hand, and walked away from him.

His eyes followed the dark figure. The essence of his godson. Whatever good he had inside of him was dying as his plot moved forward. Dumbledore was right. He would have to do the killing to keep the boy from darkening his soul.

He tried to negotiate, but the boy was totally out of his reach and no one could be saved if they didn't want to be.

He knew that all too well.

AN: Friends...Who could have guessed it? *giggles* I admit this is another chapter I adored writing and that marks another important step. It was fun to mix the contents of the books, of the movies and my own imagination. Let me know what you think and hope you enjoyed. See you on Saturday.