"Oh, now you know his name?" asked Harry, one eyebrow raised.
"Yes," Draco said, grimacing a bit. "Severus was right about that too, I suppose. I was using his name like a weapon. It's an insult to not remember the name of a house-elf bonded to your family. Or once-bonded, in his case. But... Dobby deserves better from me than that. It's like you said that time about Professor Lupin. He's on the same side as I am, so I have to be able to work with him. And Dobby... he's on your side, too."
Draco cleared his throat. "Well, what are you waiting for, Severus--"
"You may speak with Dobby when we return to Hogwarts, Draco."
"I might lose this bizarre urge to humble myself," Draco dryly warned. "Like with the poison, best to get it over with, don't you think?"
"Apologising when one is wrong is not a mark of humility. Maturity, rather."
"And I've been so mature since I was expelled."
As Harry covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud, Snape smiled. "A valid point. But I would still prefer to keep my hideaway as secret as possible. You will simply have to retain your bizarre urge until the holiday is over."
"All right. I... yes, I can do that."
"Good, because if your remorse only lasts a fleeting day or two, one might question how genuine it was, you understand."
Draco nodded slightly. "I think I'll just resume work on my lines, then."
Harry almost expected their father to say that Draco could forego the lines, now, but Snape must have thought the consequence could still serve some purpose.
"Do that," the Potions Master said, then added in a lower tone, "Draco... I enjoy having two sons I can take pride in."
Draco nodded again, his silver eyes damp as he got out parchment, quill, and ink and set to work.
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Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other
Chapter Eighty-Four: The Dark Mark Returns
Comments very welcome,
Aspen
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Chapter 84: Reconstruction
http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=5036&chapter=84
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A Year Like None Other
by Aspen in the Sunlight
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Chapter Eighty-Four: Reconstruction
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Ten thousand lines, it turned out, didn't take very long when one was committed to getting them done. Draco worked on them from morning until late at night, sitting at the kitchen table with the window open so he could call out suggestions--or more often critiques--to Harry and Snape who were labouring outside to get the new room into shape. Harry had found a way to make his wanded magic work, but construction spells were so draining that even with that advantage, it still took them days to finish the floor and erect the walls and roof. Harry actually felt a bit ill by the time he'd conjured enough large rocks to form the stone walls. Thank goodness Snape was the one who did most of the work of levitating them into place, though again, it was Harry's wanded magic that made them stick together.
Wizards did use mortar, Harry found out in the end. They just didn't mix it the Muggle way.
Roof thatching turned out to be a bit easier, though first Harry had to learn how to make grass grow strong and tall. It gave him a certain amount of satisfaction, after all the summers he'd spent mowing the lawn, to watch the meadow overflow with grass swaying in the breeze.
By Friday night, Snape had his bedroom in good enough shape to use, and Draco had his lines completed. The Slytherin boy had also finished several of his back assignments, though he had quite a lot of schoolwork left. He seemed willing to do it now, though. That was all that counted, as far as Harry was concerned.
Some time past midnight on Friday, an odd noise roused Harry from his sleep. It took a minute for his hazy brain to register the sound as whimpering.
"Draco?"
No answer. When Harry went over to the other bed, he found his brother shoving frantically at his blankets, but he was so tangled up in them that he couldn't push his way free. Even by the dim moonlight streaming through the window Harry could see that Draco's brow was streaming with sweat from his exertions.
Maybe it wasn't whimpering so much as panting. Or a little of both.
Harry shook his brother's shoulder. Gently at first, and then harder. "Come on, Draco. Wake up..."
Silver eyes finally slitted open, and the stark terror in them was so fierce that Harry shook Draco again. "It's all right. It was just a nightmare."
Draco shrugged Harry's touch away and pushed up on his palms to sit up. He looked like he was just an inch away from screaming the house down, even though he was unquestionably awake. His legs kicked frantically at the constricting bedclothes until they lay in a tangle near his feet. Then he seemed to relax, though a moment later he began swallowing convulsively. "I don't suppose that vanishing bucket's around anywhere?"
"I'll get Severus," said Harry at once, since if Draco was going to sick up then what he'd want would be a potion, surely.
"No, no." Draco shook his head, a spare little motion that Harry could hardly detect, it was over so quickly. "I feel pretty rough but... no, I'll manage."
"If you're sure..."
"No, Potter, I'm lying. I actually want half-digested Vichyssoise spattered all over my sheets and blankets--" He broke off at the look on Harry's face.
"Well, at least you're back to your usual self."
"I'll never quite be back to... that," Draco whispered, his sarcasm vanishing.
"Good." Maybe it was blunt, but sometimes that was best. "If you want to be an Auror, you know, you can't have a criminal record. You almost flushed your whole career plan down the loo."
"Yeah, I know." Draco sighed as he leaned back more against his headboard. "Severus and I talked about that when you were out flying."
"Today?"
"Ha. Today, yesterday, and Wednesday. No doubt I get variant number four of the same lecture tomorrow." Draco paused for a moment. "Well, I guess I'll try to get back to sleep--"
Harry held up a hand and sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. "Sure you don't want to talk about it?"
"No, I've done enough soul-searching in the guise of career planning with Severus, thanks--"
A light punch to Draco's shoulder put an end to the new bout of sarcasm. "Your nightmare, you prat. Talking helps." When Draco looked reluctant, Harry went on, "It might come right back if you don't."
"It just seems so real," Draco murmured, shivering.
"Yeah, dreams are like that."
"They aren't ever like this, Harry. It's the poison. Oh, I don't mean it's still affecting me, but when I was in that delirium, living out my worst fears..."
Harry nodded to show that he understood.
"...well, it all seemed so completely real. I guess a hallucination would. But... um, I seem to have learned to dream more vividly. Some things, at least. The same things I had delusions about." Draco shrugged, but the motion was stilted instead of careless. "I don't suppose I have many secrets from you now. Almost makes me wish I'd let you eat that-- um, forget I said that."