Differentiating Thresholds

Chapter 6 - The World He Left Behind

Draco landed on wobbly feet in the middle of his mother's sitting room at Malfoy Manor. The glass jar that had acted as the Portkey slipped from between his fingers to land with a soft thud on the plush white carpet beneath him. He took a few deep breaths trying to steady himself. He hated traveling by Portkey; it always unnerved him.

He smoothed down his robes and took in the familiar room. It looked just as it had the last time he had been there five months ago. Only one thing had changed--a tan and white afghan lay draped over the back of his mother's Queen Anne sofa. He ran his fingers over it, surprised by its softness. It was a great piece and complemented the other furniture in the room perfectly, but he didn't understand its presence there. His mother had never been one for homemade decorations and this sure counted as one.

"Oh, Draco, there you are."

Narcissa stood in the doorway, a small smile on her face. Draco took in the sight and thought she had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her long blond hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders. She wore a pale pink blouse over gray slacks and a string of pearls which she pulled at with one long, manicured hand.

"Hello, mother."

He walked forward and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. She pulled him into a warm hug instead and he breathed in the scent of lilies, his mother's signature scent.

"What's this?" Draco pointed to the afghan when she released him.

"Oh, that. Your aunt made it for me," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

"You can't be telling me that aunt Bella--"

"I didn't say Bella, now did I?" She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.

"But that would mean..." Draco looked at his mother, shell shocked.

"Andromeda is my sister, Draco. We have written each other over the years and well, with your father and you gone, I was a bit lonely and she came by to visit a few times." Narcissa fiddled with the button on the cuff of her sleeve, avoiding his eyes.

"Well, I have to say, mother, I wasn't expecting that," Draco stated dryly, still not believing that he had just heard those words from his mother's mouth. He had only heard his aunt Andromeda's name spoken in passing and even then it was only in conjunction with the term blood traitor. Not once had she been referred to fondly by either of his parents.

Narcissa looked up at his statement, a smile quaking at the corner of her mouth. Before he knew it, they both erupted into peals of laughter. The tension of the past few months drained away as they collapsed side by side on the couch.

"I'd like for you to meet her someday," Narcissa said quietly after their laughter subsided. "You'd like her. She isn't deranged like Bella. And she's got a daughter, Nymphadora. She's a Metamorphmagus. I daresay you'd probably get along." There was a wistful look on her face. "Though she was a Hufflepuff." The last statement was followed by his mother's tinkling laughter.

Draco slipped a hand over his hers and closed his eyes, concentrating on the warmth of her hand and the scent of her perfume. He wanted to take her all in, commit every little thing about her to memory in case it was the last time. A pang of guilt ran through him. The plan was going to break her heart. He was going to break her heart.

"Draco..."

Draco opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them and turned to look at Potter. His green eyes were soft, his voice low.

"You don't have to..."

Draco shook his head firmly. Tears were sliding down his cheeks but he quickly brushed them away.

"If it's too hard..."

"No." He knew if he stopped now, he would never get through it.

"The next night, I waited until the house was silent. I was sure mother had gone to bed..."

He strained his ears for any sound. When he heard none, he pulled himself away from the railing over looking the foyer and padded off down the hall to his room. He threw a Silencing Charm at the door and pulled the two vials Snape had given him out of his nightstand. Draco stared at the gray mist of the Spitting Image potion for a long time.

"Can I really do this?" he said out loud to the empty room.

He lifted the other vial Snape had given him up to the light. It was empty except for a small drop of clear purple liquid at the bottom. So Snape had given him the Nemesis poison. How fitting. It was the poison that was force fed to those disloyal Death Eaters when they were captured. He was sure the irony wouldn't go unnoticed by Voldemort and the thought brought a smirk to his face.

He placed the vial with the Nemesis poison on the nightstand then stood in the center of the room, making sure he had enough room around him. Draco pulled the stopper from the vial and lifted it to his lips. Tilting his head back, he swallowed it down. The potion was tasteless, yet melted like cotton candy on his tongue. It was a strange sensation. Only when he was sure he had emptied the entire contents, did his release it from his lips.

At first, nothing happened. He stood there listening to his own harsh breathing, panic beginning to rise within him. What if it didn't work? What if Snape had given him the wrong potion? What if--but then he felt it, just a slight tingling at the base of his throat. It began to spread outward and he imagined sparkles of light flowing beneath his skin, making their way to the top of his head and the tips of his toes. He waited until he could feel every inch of his skin pulsating, his nerve endings more alive and sensitive than they ever had been. If the potion wasn't creating a carbon copy of him, he was sure it could have been marketed as a pleasure tool. The sensations were that good. Taking a deep breath, he took the three steps forward and then counted to five. He turned around slowly, heart hammering in his chest and froze.

His "spitting image" stood before him, same white blond hair, same pale skin, and same gray eyes. But his face was completely neutral, the blank expression in his eyes sending a chill rippling down his spine. He waved a hand in front of the face but all he received in response was that same blank stare. Frustrated, he poked his finger hard into the center of the "other" Draco's chest. Still no response. Snape had been right that he would be useless.

Knowing he had wasted enough time already, Draco picked up his wand from the nightstand and came back to stand in front his "spitting image." He raised his wand, surprised by the steadiness of his hand. The first time he had cast the Killing Curse only a month earlier, his hand had shook violently. He wasn't in the same situation now and this wasn't an actual person, but that didn't make it much easier.

The "other" Draco stared placidly at him. Pointing the wand at his chest, Draco took a deep breath and spoke the words. The flash of green was blinding and he heard rather than saw the body fall backwards onto the plush carpet with a muffled thump. He thanked Merlin for remembering to cast the Silencing Charm earlier and looked down upon the body, his heart beating erratically in his chest. He levitated it onto the bed and then leaned over it. He thought of his mother looking down on what she would think was her only son. It was going to devastate her. And his father, what would he think? Would he be disappointed? Ashamed? He didn't want think about it; he had more to do.

Pulling himself away, he grabbed the vial of Nemesis poison, uncorked it and placed it carefully into those cold hands. Barren gray eyes stared up at him and he laid a hand over then, sliding them closed. He would at least be able to spare his mother that sight.

Satisfied at the placement of everything, he snatched up the vial that had contained the Spitting Image potion and banished it with a flick of his wand. He didn't want any proof left behind. He started to place his wand on the nightstand but thought better of it. Without a second thought, he snapped the slender shaft of wood between his palms. There was a small burst of magic as white sparks erupted from the broken ends and Draco felt his eyes begin to water. There was no turning back now. He ran his fingers lovingly over the splintered wood one last time then with a soft sigh placed it on the nightstand. With one last look at his room, he headed towards the door and cracked it open. Only when he was sure no one was around, did he slip through and close it silently behind him.

He made it down the main stairway and halfway across the foyer before something stopped him in his tracks. A sliver of light emanated from underneath the door to his mother's sitting room. He put his ear to the door but didn't hear anything. Throwing caution to the wind, he pushed the door open as carefully and quietly as he could. Stepping into the warmth of the room, he was surprised to find the fire still burning brightly in the grate and his mother asleep on the couch, the book she had been reading laying open across her chest.

Draco walked over to the couch and couldn't resist placing a tender kiss on her forehead. A wisp of blond hair fell across her forehead and he pushed back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, a sad smile crossing his lips. "I love you, mum."

Draco left the room as quickly as he had entered it and headed out of the front door. The cool night air felt good against his flushed skin, the sensation still a bit heightened from the potion. Determination flowed through his veins as he strode down the stone walkway to the front gates. After crossing them, he looked back, taking it all in. Malfoy Manor stood out against the dark sky, gleaming brightly in the moonlight. A flood of memories assaulted him as he gazed on his childhood home. He quashed the bout of nostalgia and turned his back to the scene, disapparating with a small pop.

"Where did you go?"

Potter's voice brought him back to the present. Slowly, the haze he was in faded and he realized Harry's hand had left this shoulder and was now rubbing light circles on his back. He quickly stepped out of the other man's touch, slightly confused. He should have punched him, yelled at him, something other than instantly regretting the lack of warmth on his back. Stealing a look at Potter, he found him leaning casually against the railing as if nothing had happened. A thick black eyebrow lifted in response followed by a smirk. Draco cleared his throat.

"There's this alley three blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron I've apparated to before. I went there."

"And after?" Potter still held that nonchalant stance and as much as he hated to admit it, it made Draco a little nervous.

"I found a place to stay, did what I had to do to survive." He didn't want to think of that time. Some of the things he had done in those first few days were not exactly happy memories. There was no way he was going to tell Potter about that. "I'd rather not go into detail," he said a bit brusquely. Harry just nodded, a look of understand on his face. They stood in silence for awhile, Potter's eyes watching him, Draco purposely avoiding the other man.

"So I guess he's dead?" His eyes were trained once again on the street below and he vaguely wondered how long they had been out there. The street was deserted.

"Who?"

"Snape," Draco answered. There had to be a reason he had not come to find him after the war had ended.

"Severus? No, the old wanker's still very much alive and still teaching Potions at Hogwarts," Harry replied.

Draco's lips tightened into a thin line as he unconsciously gripped the railing. Why hadn't Snape found him?

"I need to see him right away." Potter looked at his watch.

"It's half past eight, Malfoy. Can it wait for tomorrow?"

"No. It can't." His voice was harsh but he didn't care. He needed answers, now.

"I'll see if I can reach him."

Potter walked inside and Draco followed. Harry waited for him to pass through the doors before sliding them closed. He slid his wand from his pocket and muttered "reparo," the cracks in the glass disappearing before walking to the fireplace and throwing a handful of floo powder into the flames.

"Severus?" he called as his head disappeared into the green flames. "Severus?" he called again. Draco's heart leapt into his throat when he heard that familiar drawl answer back.

"Potter, to what do I owe this horror?"

"I've got someone here that needs to see you." Draco imagined Snape rolling his eyes.

"Can't it wait till morning, Potter? I've just had to deal with a bunch of idiot fourth year Gryffindors stirring up trouble. I'm not in the mood to chat right now."

"Er, I don't think this can wait. Trust me, Severus. You'll want to see him. So are you going to let us come through or not?" Draco heard an exasperated sigh.

"Fine. You are insufferable, Potter. You know that?"

"Of course I am. My life's work is to torture old Potions' Masters like you." Just then Potter pulled his head back from the flames and grinned cheekily at him. Draco was taken aback by the banter between the two men.

"Are you and Snape...friends?" He didn't even try to disguise the shock in his voice. Potter laughed heartily.

"No way am I friends with him," he said when his laughter died down. "Acquaintances, yes. There's a mutual respect between us, after all he did fight on our side during the war. And I've had the unpleasantness of having to work beside him, but the man's still a git." Draco smiled at that. Ever the same old Potter.

"Ready?" Harry asked and Draco nodded. He stepped into the flames and disappeared with a whoosh, Draco right behind him.

As he stepped out of the fireplace and into Snape's office, he wasn't surprised to find it looked exactly as it had that day nine years ago when he had last set foot in it. The rows upon rows of jars filled with Potions ingredients still lined the walls and the two large comfy armchairs still sat before the fire in the exact same position as before. And then he looked up and there stood Severus Snape, same black robes, same greasy hair. There were a few more lines around his eyes and streaks of gray at his temples, but otherwise he was still the same man he had seen practically everyday for almost seven years of his life. His former professor had yet to notice him but instead was rambling on to Potter.

"Ever the stupid, reckless Gryffindor interrupting someone else's peace because you want something. What is it you want this time, Potter? Where is..." His words trailed off as his eyes finally found Draco. "It cannot be."

"Professor."

"Draco..."

And before he knew what was happening, Snape quickly walked forward and embraced him. Draco stood awkwardly in his grasp, not quite sure what to do. He had never in a million years expected Snape to hug him. A loud cough from behind startled them both. Potter looked between the two men.

"I think I'll just slip out to see McGonagall."

Snape waved him away, not taking his eyes off Draco. Potter slipped through the door and left them alone. It was Draco who spoke first.

"Why didn't you come find me?" He couldn't help the desperation and sadness that tinged his words.

"I thought you were dead, Draco. There was a fire--"

"I know," he cut in. "Potter told me. Do you know how it happened?"

There was a flicker of something Draco couldn't identify that crossed Snape's face. The older man gestured to the two chairs before the fireplace. After they had settled down and Snape had conjured and poured them both a cup of tea did he begin to talk.

"Voldemort had someone watching the manor. When I didn't hear from Narcissa on Sunday morning, I knew something must have gone wrong. I wanted to go over there but I didn't want to look suspicious. I didn't hear anything the rest of the day; I thought maybe you had changed your mind, that you had decided to take the Mark instead. But when I was summoned that night, the only one there were The Dark Lord and Wormtail. I was told you were caught trying to run away and had been killed. Voldemort said the Manor was burned as a warning to Lucius." Draco could see the fire in Snape's eyes. "I would have killed him right there if I could have, Draco. I wanted to kill the bastard." He didn't doubt the man's words for a second. "If I believed for even a minute that there was still a chance you were alive, I would have gone looking for you. I would have found you." He could see the guilt in the Snape's eyes.

"Professor..."

"You may call me Severus, Draco. I am no longer your teacher and we are both adults." Draco nodded.

"So how did you end up with Potter?" Snape asked, the emotion he had seen only a few moments earlier already gone. "I'm surprised you haven't strangled him with your bare hands yet." Draco thought about their earlier scuffle and laughed.

"I almost did."

Snape raised an eyebrow in question and Draco began to tell him of the path that led him to Potter. When he finished, he looked over to find Snape studying the fire.

"You do realize that you will be questioned by the Ministry, most likely during a hearing in front of the Wizengamot. They've taken to using Veritaserum when interrogating those associated with Voldemort during the war. Are you willing to submit to that, Draco?"

"If it gets me my life back, yes." He didn't care if they forced him to take the truth serum. He had nothing to hide, at least as far as that night was concerned.

"I'll help you anyway I can."

He heard the sincerity in Severus' voice and felt his heart lighten a bit. At least he had one ally in this, well two, if he counted Potter. He thought again of that moment on the balcony and Potter's hand on his back. It had been a comfort as much as he hated to admit it.

"Draco, are you alright?" Snape was looking at him strangely.

"I'm fine. I think I better find Potter. It's getting late and I know you've got classes in the morning."

Draco rose from his seat, placing the teacup on the silver tray that was hovering between them. Snape placed his own teacup on it then banished the tray with a flick of his wand.

"That may be wise," Snape replied as they made their way over to the office door. "I've got a full day of classes tomorrow, the first with Gryffindor."

"Are they still as idiotic as they were in my years?" Draco asked. If they had a penchant for stupidity as Potter and his friends did during their time at Hogwarts, he would surely have his hands full.

"Even more so," Snape replied.

They walked through the halls, the dampness of the dungeons familiar and comforting. He took in the bare stone walls, the blazing torches, the smell of various potions hanging in the air. He knew there was a wistful smile on his face but he didn't care. Hogwarts had been his home for almost seven years. Snape must have noticed for he laid a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"You miss it, don't you?" Draco nodded.

"So that old bat McGonagall is still teaching? Thought she would have retired by now. Where are we going anyway?" he asked when he realized they were heading in the opposite direction of McGonagall's office. "I thought we were going to get Potter?"

Snape's only reply was a smirk.

They reached the large gargoyle that hid the entrance to the Dumbledore's office and made their way up the spiral staircase in silence. The door to the office swung open as they reached the top of the stairs as if they were expected. Remembering the old codger and his penchant for being all-knowing, he was sure they were.

"Come in, Severus." Draco stopped in his tracks and rolled his eyes. Of course it had to be her. "Mr. Malfoy, it is a pleasure to see you again. Potter's just been telling me your tale. Welcome back."

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall reached out a long wrinkled hand and Draco shook it. She sat down behind the large desk that had once been occupied by Dumbledore and indicated to the empty seat in front of it. Potter lounged languidly in the other one, arms stretched behind his head. Draco pulled his eyes away from the ex-Gryffindor and turned back to McGonagall who was looking between the two of them with a something akin to humor, though he wasn't quite sure.

"I'm glad to see you two have put your childish animosity to rest. It was always quite exhausting for all those involved. I have to say, I never thought I'd see the day you two could be in this room together for more than five seconds without trying to rip each other to shreds. It's nice to see that you have both grown up." She smiled kindly at the both of them. "If there's anything we can do to help, Mr. Malfoy, don't hesitate to ask. I'm sure everything will work out fine but if you need anything, both Severus and I are here for you. You were once my student and never have I denied help to a student, current or former."

"Thank you," he replied automatically. Draco felt a surge of hope at her words. To think McGonagall was offering her help sent his mind reeling. Maybe the war had changed everything and everyone.

"Now if you two men will excuse us. I have some matters to discuss with Severus. Harry, the papers will be drawn up and ready to sign in two days. Mr. Malfoy." She nodded at him and he nodded back. Severus clapped him on the back.

"I'll be in touch."

He followed Potter out of the office and down the spiral staircase his mind whirling with all the information he had learned that day. They were silent as they walked through the moonlit halls but something outside caught Draco's eye and he stopped to look out one of the large lead glass windows.

He could see the quidditch pitch in the distance, the goal posts gleaming in the moonlight. The sight sent a wave longing through him. The need to fly again was overwhelming. He remembered the feel of the wind stinging his cheeks, the way the tips of his fingers tingled with anticipation the closer he got to the snitch, the slight nuances in the air that indicated which way to shift his body to gain more speed. God, he wanted to, no, needed to feel that again. The longing must have been evident on his face for Potter was instantly beside him, eyes following Draco's line of sight.

"Care for a rematch, Malfoy?"

A/N: Nemesis is the Greek goddess of retribution and vengeance.