Severus had begun to wonder if Bellatrix had discovered her nephew's perfidy and killed him when he heard a knock at the door. More specifically, he heard Draco's knock at the door. It was amusing to him, since he doubted the boy realized he knocked in such a unique pattern.
Hearing the excuse, and only half buying it, years as a professor having taught Severus how to read the body language of guilt, he decided to let it slide.
"Come in, Draco," he said, holding the door for his one-time student.
Draco's brow furrowed slightly when Snape did not even question his excuse -- it was odd, he thought, but then again he shouldn't question it. He was getting off lightly and he knew it.
"Thank you, sir," he said, his lips turning up into a slight smile. He slipped through the door -- which Snape was currently holding open -- and stepped into the dim hallway. He stood there for a moment, unsure whether to go into the living room, kitchen or dining room. There was time when he would have strolled confidently through the house but he doubted Snape would take kindly to him dictating the terms of their meeting. He hadn't took kindly to Draco acting as if the house was his own when he'd actually lived there!
Shifting slightly, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at the tall man currently shutting the front door and warding it.
Paranoid as ever, he thought and was almost horrified when it sounded halfway affectionate in his head.
Severus turned after securing the door, and motioned towards the kitchen where he had set out a variety of biscuits. He eyed the rangy young man and shook his head.
"Draco, you are too thin. Why do you not make time to care for yourself properly?" he asked with a sigh, returning to the refrigerator and bringing out a plate of sandwiches and a selection of cheeses. From a wooden box on the counter he removed a loaf of crusty bread. "The war is over, officially, at least. We survived, for now. You need to eat. There are no more excuses."
Draco frowned at Snape's back, scowling when he mentioned his skinniness. It wasn't that he wasn't aware he was thin; he was. In fact, he was quite sure he knew about the subject intimately. His mother constantly pressed the issue, Pansy remarked about it on occasion, for Merlin's sake even the people he worked with had asked him if he'd ever heard of food! He supposed he had expected it from these people -- but not from Snape, although now that he thought about it he couldn't remember why
( ... )
Comments 16
Hearing the excuse, and only half buying it, years as a professor having taught Severus how to read the body language of guilt, he decided to let it slide.
"Come in, Draco," he said, holding the door for his one-time student.
Reply
"Thank you, sir," he said, his lips turning up into a slight smile. He slipped through the door -- which Snape was currently holding open -- and stepped into the dim hallway. He stood there for a moment, unsure whether to go into the living room, kitchen or dining room. There was time when he would have strolled confidently through the house but he doubted Snape would take kindly to him dictating the terms of their meeting. He hadn't took kindly to Draco acting as if the house was his own when he'd actually lived there!
Shifting slightly, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at the tall man currently shutting the front door and warding it.
Paranoid as ever, he thought and was almost horrified when it sounded halfway affectionate in his head.
Reply
"Draco, you are too thin. Why do you not make time to care for yourself properly?" he asked with a sigh, returning to the refrigerator and bringing out a plate of sandwiches and a selection of cheeses. From a wooden box on the counter he removed a loaf of crusty bread. "The war is over, officially, at least. We survived, for now. You need to eat. There are no more excuses."
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