This wasn't Draco's first visit to Snape's office.
Though he had likely come here fewer times than Harry Potter, he was still familiar with every corner of the place.
The moment you stepped inside, the first thing you noticed was the cauldron that seemed never to cool, bubbling away as if it had been brewing some unknown potion all year round.
Most striking of all were the glass cabinets lining the four walls, filled with rare and precious potion ingredients. Just as Draco remembered. Nothing had changed.
In short—
With Snape's silent consent, Draco walked in. As expected, there was no welcome from the master of the room. The only greeting he received was sharp and thoroughly unpleasant.
"Until I finish brewing that wretched potion, you will remain silent!"
"…"
Draco had already prepared himself for this.
After all, this was Snape.
No—more accurately, the fact that they hadn't been shut out and were allowed inside at all was already a stroke of luck.
Judging from the way Snape had just snapped at Harry Potter, his mood was clearly far from good.
But Draco, long used to this treatment, had no intention of staying quiet.
As Snape stirred the faintly green-glowing potion, Draco casually glanced at the chairs that hadn't been properly straightened and spoke.
"What do you know about my father?"
"… "
"At this point, it's hardly a secret anymore."
"… "
Astoria found their way of communicating rather unexpected. One spoke, the other remained silent.
If someone claimed they were godfather and godson, few would believe it.
What surprised her even more was that Snape didn't lash out or sneer as she had expected. He simply stood with his back to Draco, continuing to stir the potion, as though it were the most important matter in the world.
It was impossible to tell whether he had even heard Draco's words.
...
Gurgle. Gurgle.
The bubbling of the potion filled the heavy silence.
Most people would have given up and left by now.
Draco didn't.
"Do you know why my father did it?"
"What exactly are you implying?"
"To be honest, the Malfoy family, with its former ties to the Death Eaters, had no real need to stand up and confront the Dark Lord head-on. Nor did we need to cooperate with the Ministry of Magic."
"Mr. Malfoy, what exactly do you know? And who told you?"
Draco's reasoning wasn't unfounded.
Aligning with Voldemort might not have been ideal, but given the Malfoy family's status and influence, it could have been managed carefully. It wasn't as if such a path had never been taken before.
What truly puzzled people was the choice that had ultimately been made.
Snape's hand paused mid-stir.
The next moment, he turned to face Draco fully.
Their eyes met.
Silence.
The tension that rose between them was almost tangible, enough to make Astoria unconsciously slow her breathing.
And in that instant, she understood.
Draco hadn't come here simply to ask questions.
He had come to say something to Snape.
…
Godfather and godson.
In the West, that bond is often closer than people imagine. Not family by blood, yet sometimes closer than kin.
A relationship like Draco and Snape's was actually quite rare. Under normal circumstances, a godfather and godson would be more like Harry Potter and Sirius Black—sharing the details of their lives, looking out for each other, openly concerned.
That would be the usual dynamic.
But viewed from another angle, Draco and Snape were already unusually harmonious.
At the very least, Snape would never show this much patience to just anyone.
Well… Harry Potter was the exception.
"So," Snape drawled after studying him for a moment, "what exactly are you trying to say? Don't tell me you believe you understand Lucius's motives. Hmph. Don't assume I know nothing. Lucius has no intention of dragging you into this."
He let out a cold, humorless laugh.
At that moment, Snape's expression perfectly matched the image of a villain's sneer.
In short, he didn't believe Draco knew anything.
He was convinced Draco had been kept in the dark. After all, even he hadn't been able to pry much from Lucius, let alone Draco, who had clearly been excluded from the matter.
What Snape could not possibly imagine was that the reason Lucius had chosen to defy Voldemort…
…had come from Draco himself.
Draco arched a brow in response to the cold laughter.
"What if it's because the Dark Lord has taken an interest in me?"
"What did you just say?"
Snape's expression hardened, his dark eyes narrowing with clear disbelief.
It was a natural reaction. No one would assume that Voldemort would set his sights on a wizard who hadn't even graduated yet.
Snape gave a short, sharp scoff.
"If you came here to entertain me, Mr. Malfoy, then you have succeeded. Now remain silent."
He claimed to be amused, yet there was no trace of amusement on his face. Astoria, standing nearby, could clearly sense the anger beneath his composure.
Seeing the misunderstanding forming, and unwilling to let Draco bear it alone, she finally spoke.
"It's true, Professor."
"Miss Greengrass?"
If Draco might be dismissed as joking, Astoria's calm affirmation forced Snape to reconsider.
He stopped stirring the potion.
This time, he walked directly toward Draco, his expression completely serious.
Draco met his gaze without flinching.
For the first time, Snape hesitated.
Perhaps… his unpredictable godson was telling the truth.