The Godson
After collecting groceries and having a very late lunch the next day, both Hermione and Severus sat in the living room with a good book each. Hermione was at the age where she had just discovered an enjoyment for novels filled with new philosophies instead of happy endings. Her father was working through several news papers, both wizard and muggle.
Suddenly, green flames sprang from the fire place and a sooty, blonde boy in jeans and a tee shirt stepped out.
“Draco?” Severus stood up.
“You can’t make me go back there. I’m running away and...” Draco’s eyes fell on Granger sitting next to Professor Snape on the couch. “What’s that thing doing here?” He pointed to Hermione.
Hermione stood up and shouted, “What am I doing here? You’re the one who doesn’t belong.”
“Everyone, calm down.” Snape said, but neither teenager was listening to him.
Insults were thrown back and forth, ending with Draco screaming “you slut!” Hermione ran crying up the stairs and into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Snape grabbed Draco by the scruff of his neck. “What were you thinking?”
“What am I thinking?” Draco spat, “You have a student in your house! You’re disgusting!”
Snape snarled and threw Draco to the couch. “Hermione is my daughter!” He folded his arms and his eyes narrowed to slits.
Draco’s eyes flitted from Snape’s angry face to the mantel piece. Draco’s picture had been replaced by one of a bushy-haired young girl of seven. Draco’s smirk turned to a frown as he ran up the stairs. He entered the green bedroom - his room - and slammed the door behind him. He laid down on the bare mattress. Snape hadn’t even expected him to come. He hadn’t left Draco a blanket or a sheet. Draco listened to Snape stomp up the stairs and enter Hermione’s room. He could only hear bits and pieces of the conversation since Snape’s bedroom was between them.
“He’s my godson,” Snape said. “Sometimes he stops by, but I didn’t know...”
Sometimes, ha. Draco had been spending time at Snape’s cottage since he was four. Sometimes the whole family came down. Sometimes Draco just had to escape.
“I want to call my mom and go home!” Hermione wailed.
“Sweet heart,”
“I’m not staying in a house with that thing!”
Draco listened to Hermione crying for a while.
“I’ll bring you home tomorrow.” Snape said.
“No, I want mom and dad to pick me up.” Hermione began to cry again.
“I’ll call your step-dad.”
Draco listened to the door close and heard Snape walk back down the stairs. He didn’t come into his room to say anything. Granger was still crying in her bedroom. Draco tried to block it out, but couldn’t. It was odd to hear noises in the house. It had always just been Snape and Draco when he stayed over. Hermione’s room had always been shut up and silent. Even during the last two years, when Snape had been more agitated than usual, any fights they had resulted in Draco going to his room and Snape going to is study downstairs. It was unnerving having someone in a bedroom near his. Could she hear him too?
At some point, Draco must have fallen asleep, because he woke up to Snape entering the room. He still looked angry, but he set a set of sheets on the dresser, then passed Draco a sandwich.
“What time is it?” Draco sat up.
“Nine.” Severus sat next to him on the bed.
Draco took a bite of the sandwich. “You could have told me.”
“No.”
“I’m your godson! Before she came, you trusted me, and you invited me into your house. You used to care about me!”
“I thought you of all people would understand, Draco.” Snape muttered.
“There’s nothing to understand.” Draco laid back down and turned away from Severus.
“You hate being your father’s son. You’re running away from it right now. Hermione has a chance to grow up away from all of that. How can I not want her to have that?” Snape stood up and moved toward the door. “And you will always be welcome in my house, so long as you don’t upset my daughter, and you promise to keep her away from my and your father’s world. Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re capable of either of those.” Snape walked out and left the door open.
Draco finished eating his sandwich, then got up to close the door. Hermione walked past his bedroom door, wiping at her eyes.
“You filthy mudblood.” He muttered.
Hermione turned on him. “I’ve never been a muggle-born. You on the other hand will always be a selfish ass hole!”
Draco slammed his door shut, and laid back on his bed.
In the morning, Hermione was packing up the last of her trunk in her bedroom. She had cleaned the room quite nicely already, and had been looking forward to spending more time at the cottage, but not while Malfoy was there. She put the last of her clothes into her trunk and closed it. Snape said he’d call Hermione’s mother after breakfast.
Hermione looked up to find Malfoy leaning in the door frame.
“I’ll go home.” Draco said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“What?”
“You stay here. I’ll go home.”
Draco shuffled out of the door frame and down the stairs. Hermione watched as he grabbed a pinch of flue powder and left in a curtain of green flames.