The Travesty, That's Love
Draco was a devoted fan of elf-made lunch, which he considered the absolute best. Following the meal, they all ventured out to the lawns to enjoy the pleasant weather. Ron and Theo shook their heads in resignation as Vince and Greg joined the Lockhart Fan Club with Hermione and Pansy. They were engrossed in "Voyage with the Vampires" by Gilderoy Lockhart. Meanwhile, Draco took a break, lying down on the grass while the other boys went deep into Quidditch discussions.
A very enthusiastic Colin Creevey and his camera (yes, the camera deserved its own personality) joined them. The entire interaction, with Creevey asking Harry for an autograph, left them in stitches. They were so absorbed in teasing Harry that they completely overlooked Lockhart's arrival.
"Harry, was that your first signed photo?" Pansy asked as sincerely as she could.
Unfortunately that was when, Gilderoy Lockhart strode past their group. "Who's giving out signed photographs?" Lockhart interjected, flinging his arm jovially over Harry’s shoulder. "Shouldn’t have asked! We meet again, Harry."
Harry turned crimson with embarrassment as Lockhart magnanimously allowed Creevey to take a picture with Harry, and signing it. While Creevey skipped away in elation, Lockhart took Harry aside, undoubtedly offering an extended lecture on fame and advice on how not to overdo it.
Draco was ready to obliviate the brains out of that git. Fortunately for Lockhart, before Draco could physically confront him, Harry was released from Lockhart’s clutches.
"You could have fried an egg on your face," Pansy sniggered.
"Better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll start a Harry Potter Fan Club," Ron said.
"Shut up," Harry whined, attempting to hide behind Draco as everyone erupted into laughter again.
.....
During Defense Against the Dark Arts, they had the worst start to any class ever. They had to take a quiz about Lockhart. That narcissistic buffoon had truly reached a new low.
Half an hour of absolute torture later, Lockhart advised them to read his books more attentively, suggesting which books could guide them on the best gifts for him.
Ron stared at him in utter disbelief, while Seamus and Dean stifled silent laughter. Theo and Blaise were visibly disgusted. Harry was trying to keep a low profile and hide behind Draco or under the table. Draco was befuddled by the rapt attention Hermione, Pansy, Greg, and Vince were giving Lockhart.
When Lockhart announced that Hermione was the only one who had answered all the questions correctly, praising her excellent work, Draco felt physically nauseous witnessing Hermione and Pansy beaming with pride.
The remainder of the class went downhill really fast. Lockhart released a gaggle of Cornish Pixies as a lesson.
Pandemonium erupted as soon as the cage door swung open. The pixies darted in every direction like rockets. Neville became the first unfortunate victim. Theo and Blaise grappled with the pixies, trying to rescue Neville, who was being lifted into the air.
It was chaos, worse than a bull charging through a china shop. Ink bottles floated, spraying ink on the students, books were torn apart, papers shredded, and various items were launched through the air with no regard for student safety. It was every person for themselves.
During the chaos, Lockhart, somehow managed to sneak away. Theo and Blaise cursed him furiously.
"What a git," Theo shouted, failing on his tenth attempt to bring Neville down.
"He just wants to give us hands-on experience," Hermione defended him as she froze all the pixies with a single spell.
"Hands-on?" Harry said, struggling with a group of pixies as Draco helped.
"He hasn't a clue what he's doing," Blaise exclaimed, tending to a frightened Neville.
"Rubish," Pansy dismissed every argument. "You've read his books—look at all those amazing things he's done..."
"He claims he's done..." Ron muttered next to Draco, both sharing the same concern.
.....
Dinner was a relatively calm affair after the madness of Defense Against the Dark Arts. The twins complained about missing out on good entertainment. Blaise assured them that there would be plenty more in the future, considering Lockhart would be around for another nine months at the very least.
Snape never showed up for dinner. Draco assumed it was the best time to visit Snape's room. He would have confirmed with the System, but the Stupid System had gone AWOL around lunch and was still not responding.
Draco bid a hasty good night to everyone and assured Harry that everything was fine, and they would talk at breakfast.
He knocked on Snape's door and waited. It took three additional knocks and a total of five minutes before the door opened, and Draco tensed up.
Snape was a mess. Well not mess, Mess. But a mess by Snape's standards. His robes were rumpled, his eyes bloodshot, his hair disheveled. The most worrying part though, he lacked his usual sneer. In fact, he seemed quite drunk and somewhat vulnerable to be honest.
"Professor?" Draco ventured.
"What are you doing here, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape sounded tired.
"I... I just wanted..."
"Of course, you wanted something," Snape mocked and retreated inside. Draco took the open door as an invitation and cautiously followed. "It's all about what you want in your generation, isn’t it?"
Severus settled into the only armchair facing the fireplace. The room was dimly lit, surrounded in shadows, giving it a rather grim look. A half-filled glass of whiskey sat on the table beside him. Snape was well on his way to being quite intoxicated.
"Professor, are you okay?" Draco asked, cautiously approaching, as if dealing with a wounded lion.
"Of course, I'm fine. What kind of foolish question is that?" Snape responded, clearly annoyed with Draco. "Why would I be celebrating if I was not fine?"
"This is a celebration?" Draco asked, confused.
"Of course, it is." Snape gestured toward a mooncake and the half-empty bottle of firewhiskey on the table. "In fact, it's a momentous event... of sorts."
"Why is that, Sir?" Draco inquired, taking a seat on the nearby sofa, keeping a watchful eye on Snape.
"It's the 18th anniversary," Snape exclaimed excitedly. "It's been 18 years... 18 glorious years of love... love... love..." The last word was no more than an agonized whisper. Snape fell silent, staring into the fire in the fireplace.
"An anniversary, Sir?" Draco prompted when it seemed like Snape was too lost to continue.
"Well, of course," Snape huffed, a disturbing sound of laughter and derision. "Do you realize, Draco, the travesty that is love?"
"I’m afraid not, Sir," Draco replied.
"Of course not, you're far too young." Snape picked up the whiskey and pointed at Draco. "You're very lucky, Draco. You know. It's hell. Loving someone is like your very own personalized hell on this earth." He downed the whiskey in one go. "Love... Huh! What a pesky bitch. It demands sacrifice, a sacrifice of the highest value." Snape refilled the glass to the brim.
"One day, you'll be happy with your loved ones and the next..." he took a big gulp of the whiskey. "and the next you’ll be fighting for your life against the Darkest of them all." There was a broken sob. " You know what hurts the most, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape looked at Draco, who shook his head, afraid to say anything.
"When you finally defeat the Dark and find out..." Snape gulped down the rest of the whiskey, "you find out that one half of your soul is in prison for something he didn’t do and the other half refuses to listen about your innocence." He threw the glass into the fireplace, the fire roaring, washing the room in a red glow.
"That, Mr. Malfoy, that is the travesty of love." Snape's voice was wet, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Whoever said ‘it’s better to have loved and lost’ was clearly a liar. They never knew what love was."
Snape turned his back to Draco. "Feel free to enjoy the festivities, Draco. Goodnight." and went to his room humming something sorrowful.
Draco was left questioning his decision to give those pictures to Snape.