"Now Severus, calm down," Albus soothed. "Harry's not dealt with the Aurors as you have. He simply needs a bit of explanation."
"I'll thank you not to tell me what my son needs, Albus!" Snape snapped. But then he was explaining, "The burn is evidence, Harry. It demonstrates that Draco must have spent a considerable amount of time in close proximity to wizards who wished him dead." Calming finally as Albus had said, Snape pushed a strand of sodden hair away from his face. "When Draco did not react to its warning, the amulet must have intensified its efforts to get his attention. Of course as he was unconscious the effort was in vain."
"So we can use the burn to prove Draco was under threat..."
"It is so nice to be discussed like I'm not even in the room!" Draco shouted. "I'm just to be disfigured, is that it? I'm supposed to just live with a hideous blotch of a scar all over my chest?"
"Would you rather be thrown to the Dementors?" Snape scathed, his eyes gleaming with fury. "If you think I will destroy exculpatory evidence merely to assuage your vanity, you are deeply deluded!" Those black eyes began to glitter, then, and Harry thought so much for calm, just before the Potions Master exploded, "Perhaps you'll consider the consequences beforehand next time you are possessed of an urge to do something so phenomenally stupid! You should be thankful it's only a burn you suffered! You could have been thrown off the Owlery while unconscious, I hope you realise! Flinging yourself into the path of danger as if you've no cunning at all! Are you mad? Do you remotely believe I want two Gryffindor sons?"
"All right, that's enough," Harry levelly announced.
"On the contrary, Potter, I've barely gotten started!" Snape snapped.
"You've said enough," Harry repeated. "Look at Draco, would you? Really look!"
The Potions Master's nostrils flared in irritation, but then he did look. Harry just hoped he could see past his anger. Draco had backed up all the way to his headboard, his feet tangled in the covers, his expression speaking volumes. That last question of Snape's had broken through the faÃade Draco so often projected, and now, his emotions were flayed wide open for them all to see.
He was expecting to be tossed out on his ear, no matter that Snape had said they were family. Or maybe, because Snape had said it. After all, Draco had admitted to them both that to him, family meant people who would turn on you the moment they decided you weren't worth the effort of keeping around...
A heavy sigh emanated from Snape's direction, and then the Potions Master was gruffly conceding, "I am not about to abandon you, Draco. Idiot child though you are."
Still slightly huddled, Draco sort of sniffled.
"The scar won't be bad," Harry rushed to console him. "Really. I mean, it won't show unless you take off your shirt, and anyway, you can always tell people it's a battle scar, that's sort of dashing--"
"It's a mark of defeat," Draco muttered, wiping a bit at his eyes as he unbent from his crumpled posture.
"You did your best--"
"You think that makes things better, Potter?"
"Do you hear me whinging on that you got the best of me, Malfoy?" Harry shot back.
"Yeah, well at least Petrificus doesn't sting like the devil!"
Harry was about to say that a blow to the eye did, but before he could speak, he felt his father laying hand on his forearm. "There's no need for you to be in pain, Draco. Harry and I will go fetch a potion that should serve to block sensation."
Block sensation... "Why don't we use that charm, the one that helped when my hands would get so sore?"
Snape gave him a rather significant glance, Harry thought, as he insisted, "The potion will be more effective in this case. Come with me."
"Uh, all right..."
Puzzled, Harry followed his father into the lab, where Snape said in a low whisper, "You do realise that there is no way to keep Draco from the Aurors? They will insist on interrogating him."
Remembering what Draco had said about the last time, Harry whispered back, "Don't leave him alone with them--"
"I will not," Snape promised. "Harry, listen carefully. We must keep knowledge of your dark powers from Ministry hands. Voldemort has too many moles... Therefore, say nothing whatsoever to Draco about breaking that hex on your own. Let him continue to assume I countered his Petrificus, is that clear?"
Harry blinked. He didn't like the idea of keeping secrets from his own brother... but considering that Veritaserum might be used on Draco, he supposed he'd better. Still... "Ron and Hermione saw me right after--"
"They have no idea that you were hexed in the first place, only that you were physically struck," Snape said with distaste. "I will tell Albus the truth, but only we three should be cognizant of the event in question. Do you understand me?"
Harry nodded.
Snape studied his expression, and then, apparently satisfied, went on, "The Aurors will perform Priori Incantatem on Draco's wand the moment it is turned over to them, you realise. When the spell reveals a Petrificus--"
"They'll assume he hexed Pansy so he could push her out!" Harry leapt to the conclusion. "But wouldn't she have... um, shattered, in that case?"
"You take Petrificus a bit too literally. At any rate, Draco will be forced to explain that it was in fact you he hexed, which will hardly endear him to his interrogators, I should imagine. Their next question will be who broke the hex..."
"Oh, I get it. Your wand has to be able to disgorge the counter to Petrificus," Harry finished. "Yes, I understand."
Snape vaguely gestured towards a squat glass box on a nearby counter. "As I doubt anyone will think to Priori Incantatem your fingers, be so good as to Petrificus one of those live centipedes for me."
Harry scooped Sals from his pocket as he pointed his hand and spoke in Parseltongue. "Be made of stone..."
He flinched a bit as one of the centipedes snapped into a straight line and stopped moving. Ugh. Petrificus was really a horrid thing to inflict, and now that he knew what it was to suffer it himself, he felt worse than ever about first year and Neville. He couldn't even remember if he and Hermione and Ron had ever properly apologised...
Snape made short work of ending the spell on the centipede. It was a good thing, Harry realised then, that his father could counter the spell. When Harry used wanded magic, only a Parseltongue incantation could undo the effects, but at least his wandless magic seemed to behave a bit more normally.
Without another word, Snape scooped up a vial of violent purple fluid and was striding back toward the bedroom where Draco waited.
To Harry's great surprise, when they entered, Dumbledore was sitting on the bed with the boy, both Draco's hands in his own, his voice soft with reassurance, though Harry couldn't hear the words.
By then, Draco looked like he was struggling not to cry.
The headmaster patted his hands before standing up to announce, "I fear I can no longer delay the inevitable, Severus. The Parkinsons will be here shortly; you and I both will need to speak with them, and it would be prudent for Ministry Aurors to already be present in the castle by the time they arrive. In case the worst comes to pass, I would like Mr. Malfoy removed from Hogwarts at once."
Draco didn't react to that, though he seemed to shrink a bit, as though trying to hide from an unpleasant necessity.