Carved Faces

The lights were almost extinguished in the Slytherin Common Room. Few torches burned low, emitting enough light to freckle over the dark-wooden, antique looking furniture and borrow the place an eerie look, made sad by the damp stony walls. The circular iron lamp that hung from the ceiling sustaining dozens of candles was out, producing nothing but ghostly shadows.

The dark atmosphere matched its single occupant's mood.

Draco Malfoy rested on a high-back chair, his head low and tension nearly palpable around him. His eyes glittered bright silver, and when he moved a hand to tuck a few strands of hair behind his ear both his skin and the platinum blond hair shone against the darkness of the room and his clothing.

Normally he wouldn't be alone. Not only was he the most popular kid on Slytherin - had always been during the five years he had attended Hogwarts - but the Common Room wouldn't be empty at that time of the night, weren't it for the Halloween Ball.

There were singing ghosts and mock vampires strolling down the hallways, playing jokes on the students. Smiley Jack-O-Lanterns were all over the castle, and the biggest concentration of them could be found at the Great hall where the Ball was taking place. In the Slytherin Common Room, however, hung no happy air, no music or laughter filled the air. Everything was ever so quiet...

Draco didn't dare sighing, but merely ran a hand through his hair in utter misery. Hell had broken loose at his home, an owl had delivered a letter containing angry words from Lucius Malfoy that same morning.

Draco knew that his father held him above any other thing in his heart, and wanted nothing but the best for him. He hadn't doubted of his father's good intentions or love during a fraction of a second during his whole life. Which made disobeying him all the more painful to Draco.

Lucius' will and his own had always been one, and the youth didn't feel at all comfortable with this new and torturing situation, where his feelings whispered things in his ears and those things were contrary to his father's wishes.

Lucius would doubtless hit the roof if he ever heard that, instead of finding a rich and pureblood fellow Slytherin to settle down and continue the bloodline with, his offspring daydreamed of affectionate glances from his Potions Teacher. And Lucius was so entangled to Draco that the boy could taste the deception and the disappointment tore his heart already, even though only part of these news had been communicated to his house. He had written his father the day before, telling him that he didn't want to take - what was her name, he never seemed to be able to remember it - the damned inbread of the fourth year to the Ball, neither did he want to take any girl of Hogwarts. Lucius had not been too pleased with those news... and Draco dreaded the thought of what would happen if his father ever found out that he was not only a homosexual but in love with someone twice his age. Love was not something Malfoys held very high when talking about weddings.

And so Draco buried his head in his hands, getting lost on his thoughts again, never hearing the soft footsteps that approached until two hands laid on his shoulders, gripping gently.

Draco froze at the feel of the hands on his shoulder. Looking up to their owner did not help his nervousness, if anything it sent his stomach in the process of making funny jolts and took his voice away.

-*-

Severus Snape scowled as he made his way to the Slytherin domains. It's not very useful to scowl when your face can't really be seen behind the high pile of parchment you're carrying - student assignments, no better than firewood to Severus - but still, the Potions Master had made a habit of it. And it was particularly difficult not to scowl when he thought of all the foolish, noisy students he was to meet soon.

The infamous Hogwarts Halloween Ball. Could also be described as hell, for all Severus was concerned. Having already consolidated a reputation of being utterly ill-humoured, there was not a very good reason he should try to look pleased about it, even less arrive on time. Not like he could anyway, not with all the terrible Hufflepuff bad-grammar he had had to put up with before giving up on their poor excuses for Potions assignments in favour of the party. Which wasn't much better, really.

Wrinkling his forehead at the thought of spending his evening with all students from fourth year on, Severus murmured the password and entered the Common Room. He would stride quickly past it with no second look weren't it for the sparkle of light across the room.

Severus stopped dead on his tracks all of a sudden, and all parchments fell to the floor. Damn them. He looked in the direction of the one to blame for the mess. There wasn't supposed to be a student there, everyone was at the party. The lights were even off... He knew who it was as a pale hand shot through the silvery hair, and any trace of anger faded to be replaced with curiosity.

He made his way to the other side of the dungeon, approaching the student from behind, and rested his own hands on his favourite pupil's shoulders.

"Mr. Malfoy."

He let out in an enquiring tone. Nothing. He spoke again.

"Not feeling too social tonight?"

The boy shook his head slowly, biting on his lower lip. Severus left his position and walked around the chair, stopping in front of it, his eyes still piercing his student's as he studied Draco.

His favourite student. Not very much like himself... talkative, easy-going, maybe a bit too self-assured for his own good. Brilliant, yes, a special way with Potions and a true Slytherin without any trace of doubt. However, Draco Malfoy's most striking feature was the one that made him so different from Snape, or so the professor thought: he was stunningly beautiful. It was not, though, what had earned him Severus' favouritism. Truthfully, if ever asked the reason for it the Potions Master wouldn't know how to begin to answer. It was a fact, and something he had got used to, holding Draco somewhere close to what he liked to call a heart and other people graciously referred to 'a rotting rat's corpse' or 'frozen stone'. But whatever the reason it may be, Draco mattered to him and he didn't like to see the boy sad. Like he was now.

He looked at his pupil, waiting for a proper answer but never saying anything. Perhaps sensing it - Draco always sensed things around him, Snape sometimes wondered if he let anything show - the silvery-haired boy uttered a few words.

"I don't feel like going to the Ball, Professor."

"Hmm."

Ever so formal, Draco was. Wouldn't give anything straight away, either. That response had been an understatement at the very least. But Snape wouldn't bother asking why. He knew that, with Draco, he would have to work too hard to get a decent answer. Besides, pushing would only erect the boy's walls.

"The opportunity of making a complete fool of yourself dressed in a silly costume isn't turned down by people of your age very often. Sadly, there isn't much improvement when they age either."

He remarked, arching one eyebrow.

-*-

Draco hated himself then. He couldn't open up, he just couldn't. No matter how hard Draco he, he just couldn't bring himself to. Thus he lowered his head, not able to hold the professor's stare.

"Guess not."

"Now that won't do. Even though I personally consider it to be nothing but a torment, I am still showing up, merely because I am expected to. And so are you, Mr. Malfoy."

Snape's tone was encouraging, almost. Draco lifted his greyish eyes to catch the ghost of a reassuring smile playing on the teacher's lips, and couldn't keep himself from smiling back. He was already having a hard enough time restraining from reaching out to push some strands of the black hair that had fallen in front of Severus' eyes.

"People have great expectations laid on me."

He let out, and regretted it instantly. He could only hope Snape wouldn't see the sentence for what it truly was...

"And attending the school Halloween Ball isn't on top of your preferences list, I assume."

With that Snape straightened himself, for he had been leaning forward. Now Draco could no longer see his eyes.

"Are you going, Professor" he said tentatively.

"As soon as I'm wearing something other than Hecteric Potion stained robes, I shall be presenting myself for the occasion. And I trust I'll see you there."

Without waiting for an answer, Snape waved his wand to summon back the fallen parchments and continue his way through the Common Room to his quarters, leaving behind Draco Malfoy with a faint smile on his lips.

Draco gazed at nothing for a few instants, until he blinked and his smile spread wider. The Potions Teacher certainly had a way to get round him. He could always count on Snape to lift him up, showing no concern or disapproval but merely reminding him of what was he supposed to be and to do, and to offer silent support and companionship through the unpleasant times...

With encouragement like that, who wouldn't want to show up? He left his chair and made it out of the Slytherin Common Room, directing his footsteps to the Great Hall, not without putting his blazé mask firmly back into place first. No-one was to know how happy he was...

Right, so Snape hadn't been exactly proposing to him or anything. He had been just as nice as he always was... and, like always, he had managed to lit up the fire in Draco's heart. The youth was well aware of how fond the teacher was of him and, being every bit of the arrogant self-conceited Weasel believed him to be, Draco trusted that if given enough time he could turn Snape's liking for him into proper retribution of his own love for the teacher.

-*-

Severus fumbled with the buttons on the sleeve of his vests, all of a sudden buttoning its wrists had become too difficult a task. Everything was difficult if you were late... and Severus hated being late. Not like he felt any kind of joy in taking part in the Halloween Ball, but then again, punctuality had always been essential for Severus and he would not be late, not even for something he loathed.

All of a sudden, Severus was no longer trying to button the wrist but to tear the sleeve out, to dive his arm in the water, anything that would stop the burning. He pulled his sleeve to stare at his wrist, where the image of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth blackened increasingly with each passing second.

A summons.

Damn.

Playing spy for Dumbledore wasn't only dangerous, it was highly annoying. To have to stand the pain without making a sound if he happened to be summoned when in classes, to drop whatever venomous test he was preparing for Gryffindors just to show up and fake eternal servitude and devotion to those snake-like red eyes. To have to make love shine in his eyes when he didn't really feel it, have to carry out things he didn't really enjoy doing, all the time putting up a mask of grateful Death Eater that had been taken back by his beloved Master. Displaying feelings that were not his own in a false face, a carved face. He was just so tired of taking all of it...

And Voldemort had the worst timing imaginable. Missing the Halloween party wouldn't be so bad for Severus... if he hadn't promised Draco that he'd be there. He didn't like to go back on his word, and even less to let down someone he genuinely cared about for someone he did not even hold such an strong emotion as hatred for. Most annoying, really.

Severus had no time to complain. He Flooed himself to a room next to Dumbledore's office, from where it was possible to Disapparate to wherever his Master was.

He looked around, breathing in the cool evening air, only to cough as smoke reached his lungs. There was no quietness of the night either, although he was standing on top of a small hill somewhere in the countryside. There was only chaos and fire everywhere; the smoking debris visible at the distance could barely be recognised as the Dark Lord's Castle and Headquarters.

Severus dared not to approach. The place was buzzing with Aurors, and not many of them knew that he was a spy for Dumbledore thus would most likely arrest him at the vision of the mark on his wrist. Severus didn't fancy a night in Azkaban before the Headmaster would be able to free him, and he didn't intend to be punished for worshipping someone who actually disgusted him.

He pulled at his sleeve, to stare in disbelief at the Dark Mark. It no longer held its inky blackness, instead it had turned a dark brown of dry blood, and was fading quickly. It could only mean one thing.

The only other time it had happened had been fourteen years ago, on the occasion Harry Potter got his famous scar.

Severus remembered it well, the confusion. The hunting down of the Death Eaters, still identifiable by the faded Mark. The mark that had completely disappeared from his wrist now, leaving no trace. Like its maker and feeder, it was gone...

Severus didn't mourn that loss, whilst he knew that it was bound to bring him trouble. To him and the people he cared about. Draco's face showed before his eyes.

The boy had been actually born because of it. He wasn't due to be given to light until another month, and Lucius Malfoy's fury at the loos of his Master and its reflexes on his wife had been responsible for throwing Draco into the world. While Snape wasn't exactly a friend of the family, he had been somewhat close to Malfoy. Both had been part of the Death Eater Inner Circle... and Lucius truly cared about his Lord, as far as Snape could make out. When Voldemort had fallen, not only had it affected Lucius emotionally but also it had been hard times for most old pureblood, Slytherin-have-been families, with the hunting down of Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy would never be caught, of course, but that was only because he was as slippery as an eel. Some, like Weasley, had been keen on throwing him in Azkaban, just like they planned to do to every other Death Eater. Everyone had had to hide their marks, the marks that had once been displayed so proudly.

Severus took a moment to think about the irony of the situation. With Voldemort gone and the fading of the Mark, there was no way to identify and punish his soldiers. Only after he had died had he freed their souls...

He shrugged. Now was not the time to go all philosophical, instead he should go back. There was nothing there for him to do there, he'd be of much more use if he was to give the news to Dumbledore.

-*-

"Erm... you haven't seen my toad Trevor, now have you Fred?"

George Weasley didn't even bother telling Neville off for mistaking him for his twin. Instead he smiled a broad smile and opened his arms.

"No, Neville. But if I were a toad, I'd definitely go that way, away from all the stomping feet."

He pointed to the other side of the room, away from the drink table he was standing next to, and let out a sigh in relief when the round-faced boy directed his steps away. Fred surely had had a good idea when he had suggested that one of them kept an eye open for prying eyes while the other spunk the pumpkin juice.

George chuckled. It was Halloween, people must be expecting a prank of some kind after all. And who could pull it off better than he and his twin, the biggest mischief makers Hogwarts had ever known? Apart from Prongs, Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail that is, George corrected himself. But their idea was sure to make the party more... entertaining.

-*-

Draco was sitting alone at a table, not having allowed even Crabbe or Goyle to join him. Instead of entertaining the whole of Slytherin House as he always did, Draco busied himself in repeatedly cursing himself mentally for being so upset about Severus Snape having not yet showed up. He shouldn't be letting it get to him like that...

Being a Slytherin and a Malfoy, Draco was allowed to shout in rage and hex fellow wizards. It'd buy him respect. But he could not, at any rate, break down and cry. Specially not over his own emotions. He couldn't look up at the world with mournful eyes and ask for a break. He had to put up a stoic facade, a mask, a false face, a carved face that wasn't his own, that didn't show anything, not even to Severus.

Both older Slytherins were nothing but good examples, and breaking down in front of one of them wouldn't do. Hell, even breaking down alone in his bedroom wouldn't do. Somehow it always felt like his father was watching him, and Draco could feel his reproving eyes burn on his soul whenever he lost control. Which was why he took very good care for it not to happen. He admired and loved his father, and did not want to displease him in any way.

He could give his father nothing but the best, and therefore couldn't show him any weaknesses. And this was primarily where Severus Snape fit in. The deep pools of blackness wouldn't glare disappointedly at him when he timidly showed that he had a doubt. Instead Severus would speak a few, precious words.

Which made his deep voice much dearer to Draco. Snape's advice was always wise when he chose to give it, and his mere presence was soothing.

Draco didn't run to Severus every time he had a minor problem because it'd be plain ridiculous and did not suit his Malfoy personality in any way. Plus, he didn't want the teacher to think of him as a whiny, weak sort of person, which he definitely wasn't. But the complicity they shared went way beyond words, and it was reassuring for the boy to have Snape around. He wished that it could be that way for the rest of his life... and the first time he had had this thought was when Draco had learned that he was in love with Severus Snape.

Which made the fact that the professor had not yet come to talk to him, after having nearly promised that he'd do so, all the more painful. Draco buried his head in his hands, feeling utterly miserable about his father's disappointment at him, Severus' obvious not caring and his own confusing emotions.

"Hey Draco."

He winced. Pansy Parkinson was somewhere near the bottom of the list of people he wanted to see right now. He growled something unintelligible in hopes that she'd get the hint and go away, but Pansy was perhaps the most obtuse girl in the whole year. She was paying far too much attention to herself in her red dress - that showed a good deal of what she obviously thought to be a generous cleavage - and that ridiculously over-applied eyeliner to possibly care about whether Draco wanted her presence or not. He couldn't help but work hard to suppress a sigh as she took a seat next to him, putting something on the table.

"You seem a bit down, dear."

He side-looked and saw her throw her head backwards, brushing the hair out of her face and then drinking of a small bottle, leaving crimson red lipstick marks on it. She noticed his interest and smiled.

"Want some?"

He took the bottle from her hands and examined it, arching his eyebrows in surprise. Or as much of it as a Malfoy would dare displaying.

"Butterbeer?!"

There was not to be any kind of spirits in circulation, considering that it was a school party. Draco gave Pansy a puzzled look, only to see her smile mischievously.

"Got that from Finnigan. Apparently Gryffindors are not as devoted to rules as Dumbledore makes them... but they still are good-hearted enough to share their goodies."

"Even with a Slytherin," Draco said absently as he turned the bottle between his index finger and thumb, watching the liquid inside. Pansy giggled.

"Yeah. It's, like, *Finningan* after all. Hormone-driven Irish fool. One hint of a smile and he was all over me, Draco, like he didn't know better..."

Her squealing voice trailed off in Draco's mind.

How come nice Gryffindors had Butterbeer? Nobody was supposed to... ah, they were Gryffindors. Would get away without as much as 20 points taken and a wild night party. It sickened Draco. The only one to openly complain and do something about it was Severus Snape.

Draco faced the floor. The very last thing he needed now were Snape-thoughts racing madly inside his head. The sound of that silky purr insulting the loathed Gryffindors, sticking for Slytherins, towering over all and spreading bat-like wings over them. Protecting. Trust-worthy. Drop-dead sexy... Gwah! Draco shook his head angrily and took the bottle to his lips, taking a long sip.

He wrinkled his forehead at the bitter taste, but soon was drinking again. It tasted a little better than the first time, and he shut his eyes for a moment, concentrating on the unfamiliar sensation. Draco seldom had spirits, his father didn't allow him to. He didn't mind, he had never truly enjoyed it, plus he had a low tolerance to alcohol and knew that if he drank he was more than likely to make a complete fool of himself. Not something a Malfoy appreciated.

Yet he took another sip, trying to swallow down Malfoy-thoughts as he had done with Pansy's annoying voice. Trying to shut down everything around and inside him, until there would be only darkness and silence.

Both reminded him of Severus Snape, which caused him to awake from his trance. He looked around to see that Pansy was no longer there. Good. Another sip, and Draco nearly spit all of it out because of a clumsy someone that bumped on him. He would have glared angrily at the person weren't his nose and mouth covered with Butterbeer. He could barely make out a thin voice yelling,

"I is very sorry, Master!"

Damn all bloody House Elves.

Draco searched for his tissue to clean himself, then reached out for the bottle again. But the remaining liquid had been spilled over the table.

Maybe it was some good, Draco thought; he was feeling a bit dizzy after all... he looked around, and spotted the drink table on the corner. Pumpkin juice had never seemed so inviting... moving a bit slower than usual and trying his best to keep up a stoic face, Draco made his way to the soft drink and poured himself a glass, swallowing it down. It should make him feel better...

Oddly, it didn't. The bitter taste was still in his mouth. Making a face at it, Draco poured himself another glass and nonchalantly swallowed it down in one go in hopes to wash away all the alcohol, to no avail. Already starting to get angry, he filled yet another glass...

-*-

Severus quickly made his way from the room by Dumbledore's office to the Great Hall. Once inside, he proceeded to stride quickly in every direction, trying to find the Headmaster.

He didn't want to draw attention to himself, but he was pretty much in a hurry. Not to say that walking about with his vests only half-buttoned wasn't exactly his look of choice to be displayed before the students. But there were more important things to do now than button the damned wrists of his vests.. besides, it'd take too much time. The buttons never seemed to fit in their holes when he was nervous, and right now he was about to explode.

As he tried to make his way through the crowd, it seemed that more and more students rushed in front of him, passing by, giggling and chatting and-

"Fuck!"

Severus let out when someone stepped on the back of his vests, making him loose balance and almost fall to the floor. He turned around, eyes sparking with anger, to meet...

"Longbottom," he hissed dangerously.

The boy's eyes widened, and fear clearly showed on his chubby face.

"Uh... Have you seen my toad Trevor, sir?"

"You're misfortunate enough to have had me lay my eyes on YOU."

Severus was being torn between turning around and continuing to carry out his urgent mission or shouting his lungs off and giving the Gryffindor a heart attack when he caught sight of someone.

His dark eyes darted to a point beyond Neville's shoulder, to focus on a blond head who was looking like he was having enough trouble just standing up by himself. Snape's suspicions were confirmed when he saw Draco throw a disposable glass on the nearby House Elf's head angrily.

He quickly strode all the way up to where Draco was supporting himself on the wall. Next to him was a very concerned looking House Elf. Snape never noticed that the elf wore the less matching pair of socks in the whole of Britain, for upon closer inspection he could see that there was something wrong with his pupil. Draco looked paler than usual and his eyes were unfocused; he was gasping by means of breathing.

"What's going on here?" Snape asked calmly, and saw Draco flinch even though the boy didn't lift his eyes.

"Young Master Draco not too well... piss off drunk, Dobby says."

-*-

"I'm fine!" Draco let out through gritted teeth. "And I didn't have any spirits!"

"But Master Draco, I is sure I seen you drink that Butterbeer!"

"Get LOST, Dobby! I'm fine! Why don't you go knock your head on a-"

Turning around too fast to face the elf made Draco dizzy and for a moment his vision blacked and his voice faltered. He took an uncertain step forward, nearly tripping, head lowered in an unconscious body attempt to get some blood back in it. Snape extended both arms to support him.

-*-

Severus didn't think twice before hiding the boy from view with his body and taking him out of the Great Hall. No doubt Draco didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of everyone...

The Potions Master would cast a floating spell on his pupil, if it weren't for the strong intuition he had that it would only make Draco sicker. The childish way in which Draco clung to him made Severus all the more sure about what he should do: sending his urgent mission to hell, he nearly carried Draco to the Slytherin domains. Luckily, the dungeons were bellow the rest of the castle so they didn't have to climb any stairs.

As soon as they got to the boy's room, Severus made Draco seat on the bed, using a hand to wipe away the cold sweat on his favourite pupil's forehead as he kneeled in front of him. Draco opened his mouth to let out what Snape thought would be some kind of ashamed apologies, but instead the boy burped loudly. Helping him up and encircling his waist, the teacher led him to the toilet, and waited patiently by the door while Draco got rid of the toxins within him.

He felt glad that he'd been there. No-one would have seen it before it was too late... it was always that way. Slytherins were supposed to take care of themselves, and no-one ever noticed they had trouble until they were buried in it until their very necks, trying to struggle their way out through the lamest means possible.

Noticing that Draco was done, Severus tried to make his voice soothing when he commanded.

"Wash your face, Draco."

Severus didn't help the boy get up. He must be feeling better by now, plus Snape knew how much Draco hated to be aided. He had done the necessary already, truth be told he should go away, but he just couldn't. He let himself stay in the doorframe, watching as the blond got up with evident effort, then walked to the sink and threw some water in his face. As he studied the damp strands of hair made darker by the water, he realised that he had addressed his pupil by his birth-name. Most unusual. And still, it had felt right. As right as taking a step forward and extending a supporting hand when Draco threatened to fall, and guide the uncertain walker to his bed, then sitting by him.

As right as encircling the boy's shoulders and gently stroking his hair, feeling the warmth of that young body pressed up against his own, for Draco was hugging him. The thought of his urgent mission invaded his mind, only to be dismissed promptly. Draco was by far more important, and the man was dead anyway.

It'd be tough for his young pupil, and Snape knew that. But he also knew that he'd be there, offering silent support as he had always done.

Not that he could back off, anyway.

Something inside him wouldn't allow him to back off. Something that, whilst he didn't know for certain what it was, went deep in his chest and told him to stay by Draco. Not only because the boy would need him, but because he wanted to. He wanted to be next to Draco when he'd need someone to hold on. Severus learned that he wished he could be the someone to embrace Draco and strike his hair silently, reassuring the youth with his mere presence, for ever.

-*-

Draco was ashamed. He wasn't supposed to be clinging to a professor like that. He bloody shouldn't be letting the man see him in the state he was...

And he knew that he must be bad not only because he was feeling miserable, but also because his companion had sounded concerned.

But then again, Malfoys didn't stain the family name in the shameful way he was doing, refusing to continue the bloodline just because he'd feel no pleasure whatsoever in to.

Draco inhaled the other man's scent. That was what pleased him.

He wished he could thoroughly snog Severus Snape until his mind reached oblivion. Sounded like a very good option at the moment, really, just to hold onto him and let everything go.

His head was still pressed against Snape's chest, and he could feel the man's heart beating. The hand on his head was no longer ruffling his hair, but just there. As was Snape's habit...

Draco's fingers curled around the professor's robes, grabbing a handful of them as he tilted his head up to look into Snape's eyes. Having had his gaze returned, he slipped one hand around the jet-black haired man's neck to cup the back of his head as his own moved up, lips parted, tentatively searching for Snape's.

"If I may remind you that you've just thrown up, Mr. Malfoy."

Ever so soft a whisper.

Draco pulled back, downcast. Rejected. Humiliated.

With his head lowered, he couldn't see the smirk that took Snape's lips before he bestowed a soft kiss to his pupil's forehead.

Draco lifted his eyes, and Snape's face showed nothing. But Draco knew better, and could see the smile on his teacher's eyes.

-*-

Severus unravelled himself from Draco's grip and rose, turning around to face the boy.

"I'm going to talk to Dumbledore; it's very urgent. Get decently cleaned and tuck yourself in bed. I'll be back to check on you as soon as I'm finished."

Severus knew that he sounded emotionless, but there had been much time since he had sounded anything else but that. He trusted Draco could see that... yes he could, as Snape learned from the luminous smile his pupil gave him. Nodding in return with a curl of lips of his own, he turned around to make his way out of the room, his footsteps echoing loudly in the silence of the dungeons.

He allowed the subtlest of smiles to take his lips as he walked the long path to the Great Hall.

It was going to be hard on Draco, both the Dark Lord's downfall - which was sure to have huge repercussions on the Malfoy household - and dealing with this new step on the relationship that both of them had just taken. Draco had been so sheepish, and yet the 'I get what's mine' Malfoy arrogance had shone in his greyish eyes.

Severus could be proud of himself. He had removed a Malfoy's mask. He had worked his way to a seemingly unreachable heart. He had had his feelings returned...

-*-

Draco didn't stop smiling, not even after the professor had left. Weren't he a Malfoy and a dizzy one at that, he'd be executing a victory dance of some sort. A chill ran down his spine as he once again saw Snape's face in the darkness. Only that, this time, there was a wicked smirk twitching one corner of his mouth. Draco found it most enticing, and above all lovely. For it was pure Severus, it was not some mask like the ones both of them were so used to putting up.

No more of that, Draco promised himself. No more Carved Faces.