You Live, You Fail, You Die

CHAPTER 1 - New Trouble

Hell couldn't have been any worse.

Draco awoke, and he flinched as his muscles screamed in pain. The last thing he remembered was Voldemort's evil face, his mouth spitting menace at him. He tried to make out his location; it was a hospital room, but it wasn't in the Hogwarts' infirmary.

He gritted his teeth as he moved his arms. The burning pain was still there.

"You are awake." The cold, emotionless voice came from his right, and he turned his head.

"Mother." Despite the pain, he straightened.

Narcissa Malfoy's stare was as icy as her voice.

"You dare to call me that? The mighty hero who murdered his own father?"

"Mother!" Draco was taken aback.

"How could you? How could you, Draco? You switched sides, you spat on the Malfoy family honour - and to top it off, you killed your own flesh and blood. I despise you. You make me sick. I can't prevent you from getting your half of the inheritance, but remember, Draco, the money in your hands will be bloody!"

Draco still wasn't able to say anything. He couldn't even think of something to say. Finally, he tried.

"Mum ..." he said again, and was silenced by her hand, slapping his face.

"Don't call me that, Draco. Never again!" she hissed nastily. "If you ever come near me or the Manor again, you will know real pain, do you understand? You are not my son anymore!"

She turned and stormed off the room.

"Mother, wait, please ..."

He completely forgot about the curse, and while trying to run after her, his legs gave out and he landed with a hard thump on the floor. The pain heightened, and he bit his lip unintentionally.

The door slammed shut, and Draco sat on the floor, a small flow of blood trickling down his chin, staring numbly at the spot where his mother had been seconds ago.

I am a Malfoy and a Slytherin. We do not cry, so don't you even think about starting!

But to his utter shock, he felt something warm and wet dripping down his cheeks. Draco grabbed blindly at the sheets and pressed them to his eyes.

He had been so sure to have Narcissa on his side. He couldn't have ever imagined how wrong he was.

***

Two hours later, he had managed to scramble his senses together, and was now playing a role that would have made any actor proud.

Draco answered every question about his condition with a bored and unnerved voice. There's nothing wrong with me. Let me out. I'm fine, thank you. Nobody was able to see behind his façade, and that was the way he wanted it to be. He could still hear Voldemort hissing the doubling effect of the Infinitus Flamma. He wouldn't risk it, he had to find out for sure before he did anything rash.

Draco couldn't find any solution here at St Mungo's, so he started to question what happened after he was left unconscious.

Potter was once again the mighty hero of the wizarding world. Despite everything, the pain, his mother, Voldemort's curse ... he felt relieved. Voldemort was dead, Lucius was dead, and he was free as a bird.

He started to think about his future, and he thought hard. What would his future bring? He wasn't prepared to think about finding work, and considering the Malfoy inheritance, he wasn't forced to. But - just hanging around, suffering from the pain he was feeling deep inside his guts? Not the best way to go about things.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Draco frowned. He couldn't think of anyone who would want to visit him. His former "friends" were either dead or in prison, Snape wasn't able to wander around and make visits, his mother made it very clear that she wasn't going to come back again ... so, who else could it be?

Maybe it's the almighty Potter he sneered.

"Come in."

It was Dumbledore, and the blue eyes behind the glasses looked friendly towards the former Slytherin.

"Mr Malfoy. I am glad you survived your encounter with Lord Voldemort."

"Sir."

Draco eyed him without any emotion. But the old man was quite used to staring contests, and Draco finally gave up and looked at his sheets.

Dumbledore kept analysing him, though, and it unnerved him.

"Do you remember anything? Kingsley Shacklebolt and young Miss Tonks found you, lying on the ground, unconscious, with your father next to you. The Healers hadn't found any injuries. What went on between you and Voldemort?"

Draco opened his mouth.

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Even if you survive, young master Malfoy, do remember. Telling somebody about the curse will cause your pain to double. And it will double with every person you tell after that. Someday, you will succumb to the pain, and I will await you after that.

"I don't remember. It's all blank ... Sir."

"Are you sure?"

No. But I don't trust that you have a solution. I'll go mad if this gets any worse.

"Yes."

Dumbledore continued to stare at the blonde boy. Then he sighed and changed the topic.

"There is another reason why I am here. You know Hogwarts is still without a potion master?"

"How is Severus?" the ex-Slytherin asked involuntarily.

"He is better, but not quite well enough. I have come to offer you his position, Mr Malfoy, for a time period of one year."

"What? I mean ... why me?"

"You know potions, you gave your housemates extra-lessons, you were always able to have your eyes everywhere, and perhaps the most important, Severus wants you to get it."

"But I haven't any idea how to teach. Isn't that important, too?"

"Why don't you at least give it a try?" Dumbledore suggested, smiling. "Or did you have other plans?"

Get the bloody hex off me!

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Against his will, his mind started to work. The best library he knew was Hogwarts. If he did get Snape's position, he would be able to use all the ingredients he could possibly need. Even something unusual wouldn't make anybody suspicious. That would make it easier to create an antidote for the curse the Dark Lord used against him.

"Mr Malfoy?"

"I agree," he said with a face bare any emotion.

"Splendid!" Dumbledore was beaming. "The Healers will allow you to leave, if you wish it so. You don't, by any chance, have a magical illness, do you?"

Again there was a sharp glance that seemed to touch his soul.

"No, of course not."

"Please join us at Hogwarts. It is just the beginning of August, but I am sure you would want to prepare for the lessons. And - I am telling you this in the strictest confidence - Severus will be very relieved to see you alive and well."

***

The Hall was almost empty. Only Professor McGonagall, Professor Trelawney and Headmaster Dumbledore sat at the small dining table when Draco joined them.

Trelawney wasn't saying anything, but she stared at him in an irritating and accusing way. Minerva McGonagall, not entirely convinced with Dumbledore's decision either, was hiding her grim expression with her goblet. Dumbledore was the only one who greeted him with a smile.

Draco felt waves of anger surge through his body. He had risked his life and his soul for the bloody war, and all he had earned were these suspicious looks.

He made forced conversation with McGonagall and Dumbledore -Trelawney didn't open her mouth once during the entire meal - and excused himself very early.

Reaching Snape's former quarters, his mind started to spin. The pain was ready to burn his bones, and his vision blurred. He sank down on the teacher's chair and closed his eyes. He wondered if he would ever able to move again.

***

Some hours later, he woke up with another terrible pain, this time in his neck. Snape's desk chair looked okay for sitting and lecturing students, but it was torture to sleep in.

It was dark as always in the dungeons, but his sense of time told him it was well past midnight. He could still feel the burning, but the pain was more bearable now.

He was wide awake for once, and decided to make a visit to Severus, despite the late hour. He knew from Dumbledore that the Potions Master was only sleeping two hours out of twenty-four, and he hoped that he didn't catch them.

Hogwarts was eerily quiet, and he felt like an intruder as he stepped without a sound through the castle. It was a weird feeling to wander through the castle which he never thought he would see again. He passed the Bloody Baron, who nodded shortly in his direction.

Draco reached the rooms Madam Pomfrey had chosen for Professor Snape and knocked on the door.

A voice from inside answered, and he hastily entered the room.

"Who is it?" Snape's voice asked hoarsely.

"Professor Snape ..."

"Oh, really?" the Potions Master snorted. "Impossible, unless someone has managed to clone me. Is that you, Draco?"

"Yes, Sir."

A weak, but impatient wave with a wand, and a soft light appeared in the room.

"Come here and sit, so I don't have to yell," Snape ordered shortly and pointed to a chair next to his bed. The two of them regarded each other carefully.

Snape's face was still showing signs of torture, and he was terribly thin, but the black eyes were piercing as always. Draco didn't know what these eyes saw in his own face, but he started to squirm uncomfortably. Snape held his gaze a little longer, then looked in another direction.

"I am sorry about your mother," he finally said.

"How did you..."

"I keep myself informed. I could have told you from beginning, but you wouldn't have believed me."

"I was so sure she would have understood my actions. I thought she hated him for what he did to her and I," Draco answered quietly.

"I know. It's hard to learn the truth the way you had to."

A thick silence hung in the room.

"What happened?" Snape asked some time later.

"I ..."

Merlin, just tell him the truth! Maybe he can help you!

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"Infini ..." Something shifted inside his body, and the burning pain started to heighten. "I can't remember anything," he lied hastily.

"Is that so."

"I can remember ... killing father ... and Voldemort appeared ... but I don't know what he did to me."

Snape still focused on Draco's face.

"Why are you lying?"

"I'm not." Draco snapped.

"You told Professor Dumbledore the same thing, and he didn't believe you one bit. Neither do I."

Draco thought hard to find some avoiding answer, and gave finally up. Snape wouldn't believe him anyway.

"I can't tell you. Please, don't ask me any more questions."

"I only hope you know what you are doing."

"Honestly, I'm not sure. But - I just can't."

Snape seemed to be very worried, but decided to drop the subject for once.

"If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

***

A month later

Draco had never cursed himself so hard as he had this evening.

How could I have even THOUGHT about agreeing to this shit?

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The whole Hall was staring in his direction, even before Dumbledore announced him to be the temporary potions teacher and head of Slytherin house. They were all sceptical and suspicious.

The Slytherin table was deadly silent, but the staring from their direction almost burned him where he sat. Many parents had been unmasked as Death Eaters, and Draco was known as the spy who worked for the Order, so he was the perfect target for their hatred.

Argus Filch, sitting next to him, snorted.

"Don't let them get to you, Malfoy. Make them realise that you can take off as many house points as you want."

"Believe me, I will."

Draco watched over the tables while Professor McGonagall came in with the first years.

Another pair of eyes met his glance with a curious expression. Virginia Wesley's face reddened as she was caught staring and she quickly turned her head in another direction.

CHAPTER 2 - Weasley vs. McKinley

The first weeks passed in a maddeningly slow fashion and were full of trouble.

Of course, Potions wasn't a problem for Draco. It was still his favourite subject, and he knew he could easily transfer his excellent grasp of it to his students. Also, he was completely taken aback by how much fun it was to teach.

The real trouble was the mistrust and contempt he had to face each day. The Slytherins were the worst, and the other houses weren't far behind. The first years were easy to handle, but the seventh years were really getting on his nerves. Lots of house points were taken off, which didn't make him any more popular. He tried to check his temper, but calling it easy would have been a lie.

After his classes and the work related to them, he sat in the library, searching desperately for a cure against Voldemort's hex. He tried to avoid the attentions of Madam Pince, who in his opinion was far too curious. So far he'd come up with nothing. Voldemort had told him the truth: no simple cure existed.

Several magical painkillers, based on potion ingredients, weren't helping in the least.

Draco knew he looked ill. Some teachers and even a few of the students had already seen the signs, and the first rumours were creeping through the school.

"Aren't you feeling well?" Professor Sinistra, sitting next to him, asked one evening.

"I don't know what you mean", he answered, looking her straight in the eyes.

The older woman regarded him carefully before turning her gaze on to her plate instead.

"I am not the only one who has noticed", she said quietly, so as not to attract anyone's attention. "I even heard some Gryffindors talking about it."

"So?" Draco's voice was icy, but his mind was in turmoil. It was obvious he couldn't go on like this. He had to find a cure or at least a way to mask the symptoms.

***

He'd just taught a double Potions class, Slytherin and Gryffindor, seventh year.

Draco had been very close to throwing self-discipline to the winds, wanting to hex some of the students. Many of them were close to his age, most of them only a year younger, and they made it very clear that they didn't respect him at all. Those few who really wanted to learn, in order to get good grades in their final exams, were having a very hard time. He was secretly surprised to notice Virginia Weasley among them. She even snapped at her fellow students when they once again disrupted the lesson.

Now she was standing accusingly in front of a Slytherin at least a foot taller than her. Draco knew Angus McKinley personally from his own school days and knew he shouldn't be messed with. But the small Gryffindor wasn't showing any signs of fear.

"You better get your hands off my beetle eyes, or next time you'll be collecting your fingers from the floor!" she hissed.

McKinley just watched her, obviously amused.

"Oh please, Weasley, it's almost as if you were really interested in Potions", he answered lazily. "Rather than trying to ingratiate yourself with Professor Malfoy." He didn't even try to keep his voice down.

Ginny's face turned as red as her hair. She was clearly furious.

"For your information", she stated in a voice so icy as to almost rival Snape's. "I don't need to ingratiate myself with anyone, as you so nicely put it. You want to fail your exam? That's your problem. There are others here who do need good grades, so leave me alone, or you'll regret it."

"My, are we a little frustrated?" McKinley was smirking. "Maybe because darling Potter isn't around anymore? I heard Dumbledore's pet is now training to be an auror. Must be horrible for you, longing for somebody that far away ..."

There was a loud noise as Ginny slapped him hard in the face.

"You rotten Gryff!" McKinley grabbed his wand.

"Mr McKinley. Twenty points from Slytherin, and unless you want to make it fifty, you should be very careful how you take it from here." Draco had had enough.

McKinley froze on the spot, his dark, hard eyes staring hatefully in Draco's direction.

"Well, haven't we've grown high and mighty lately, eh, Malfoy?"

Draco forgot about acting the teacher and grabbed McKinley's collar forcefully.

"Repeat that, McKinley, and you will be sharing a cell with your father in Azkaban!"

His voice was so full of rage that the younger Slytherin almost toppled over the next desk in his hurry to get away.

"And if you DARE insult me again, just once, I will gladly assist Miss Weasley in cutting off your fingers! Leave this classroom!" The last words came out in what was almost a yell.

"Draco, don't!" Ginny took hold of his arm. "Stop it, he isn't worth it!"

McKinley grabbed his books and left the room at a run, glancing back fearfully over his shoulder.

"You may remove your hand from my arm now!" Draco snapped at Ginny. "And by the way, since when are we on a first-name basis? Miss Weasley?"

"Sorry", she murmured, getting her things together. "It won't happen again, sir."

"I hope not", he answered coldly, turning his back on her. At that very moment he felt another attack coming on, and had to steady himself by holding on to the table. He gritted his teeth audibly.

"Dra .. Mr Malfoy? Are you okay?"

"There is nothing wrong with me!" he hissed. "Go away and stay away!"

Glancing back doubtfully, Ginny left the classroom.