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FIC: His Mercy (Draco, Gen)
Title: His Mercy
Author: shiiki
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, portrait!Albus Dumbledore, Gen
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 657
Summary: For birdseyeview's request: Draco talking to Dumbledore's portrait. Guest appearances by Snape and McGonagall!
Notes: The title is with reference to the quotes taken directly from HBP.
Draco scowled and stared into his lap, avoiding the headmaster's piercing eyes and trying to shutter his mind from the probing tendrils of Legilimency. He didn't bother to explain himself. What was the worst Snape could do? Put him in detention? He'd done enough of those last year to feel completely blasé about them.
'I am given to understand that Professor Carrow has sent you due to your constant lacklustre performance in class,' Snape said, after several minutes of strained silence had passed. 'I believe he has his own methods of punishing unsatisfactory students, however I imagine you would be less than pleased if I were to send you back instructing him to resort to those means.'
In spite of himself, Draco couldn't help the shiver that ran through him at the thought of Amycus Carrow's 'punishments'. He'd seen what those foolhardy Gryffindors got -- gluttons for pain, every one of them. Cautiously, he raised his eyes to meet Snape's.
'What do you want from me?' he asked sulkily.
Snape's mouth opened but before he spoke, the flames in his fireplace burned bright green and the very irate head of Minerva McGonagall appeared in it.
'Professor Snape,' she said, her voice an icy contrast to the flames around her, 'your presence is required in the Great Hall.'
Snape glanced at Draco. 'In a minute, Minerva. I am ... disciplining a student.'
'Much as you must enjoy disciplining Mr Malfoy,' her eyebrows shot up, 'I believe the job is generally reserved for his Head of House. A post which you no longer hold.'
'As Headmaster, I am well within my rights to dole out punishments to students.'
'Be that as it may, there is still a pressing issue for you in the Great Hall. I would suggest you attend to it immediately.' With another ice-cold glare, she disappeared. Snape's lips curled at the fireplace.
'Perhaps you should do as she says.' The suggestion was stated mildly, but the voice nearly made Draco jerk out of his chair. It was the same voice that had offered him and his family sanctuary last year ... the voice of a man he couldn't kill ... who had nevertheless been silenced.
Draco found himself trembling as he turned to look into the portrait of Albus Dumbledore.
'No doubt the Carrows have crossed one of her damnable ethical lines again,' muttered Snape. However, he turned back to Draco and said, 'You will remain in this office. I will deal with you later.'
With that, he strode briskly out of the office.
Dumbledore's painted lips twisted upwards into a crooked smile. 'Ah, Mr Malfoy,' he said genially.
There was a twisting feeling in the pit of Draco's stomach. He clenched his fists hard against the sides of the chair and looked down into his lap again.
'I hope you and your family are well?'
'What's it to you?' Draco hissed through gritted teeth. 'What were we ever to you?'
'Lives, Draco,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'Each and every life is a matter of immense importance.'
Slowly, Draco looked up again. That mocking smile was gone from the portrait's wizened face; he looked perfectly serious, perfectly sincere.
'Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine.'
'You can't help us now.' His voice felt queer and wobbly. 'You're ...' Dead, his mind completed the sentence.
Dumbledore nodded gravely. 'I hope nevertheless that my death has offered you a reprieve, however fleeting.'
Draco couldn't muster a response to this; the twisting in his stomach seemed to explode into something more painful.
'It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now.'
He shuddered. 'It doesn't matter,' he finally muttered. Dumbledore was dead, the Dark Lord had won, and the Malfoys were no better off. What did a stupid portrait know anyway? He turned away huffily and diligently ignored Dumbledore's presence as he waited sulkily for Snape to return.
Author: shiiki
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, portrait!Albus Dumbledore, Gen
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 657
Summary: For birdseyeview's request: Draco talking to Dumbledore's portrait. Guest appearances by Snape and McGonagall!
Notes: The title is with reference to the quotes taken directly from HBP.
Draco scowled and stared into his lap, avoiding the headmaster's piercing eyes and trying to shutter his mind from the probing tendrils of Legilimency. He didn't bother to explain himself. What was the worst Snape could do? Put him in detention? He'd done enough of those last year to feel completely blasé about them.
'I am given to understand that Professor Carrow has sent you due to your constant lacklustre performance in class,' Snape said, after several minutes of strained silence had passed. 'I believe he has his own methods of punishing unsatisfactory students, however I imagine you would be less than pleased if I were to send you back instructing him to resort to those means.'
In spite of himself, Draco couldn't help the shiver that ran through him at the thought of Amycus Carrow's 'punishments'. He'd seen what those foolhardy Gryffindors got -- gluttons for pain, every one of them. Cautiously, he raised his eyes to meet Snape's.
'What do you want from me?' he asked sulkily.
Snape's mouth opened but before he spoke, the flames in his fireplace burned bright green and the very irate head of Minerva McGonagall appeared in it.
'Professor Snape,' she said, her voice an icy contrast to the flames around her, 'your presence is required in the Great Hall.'
Snape glanced at Draco. 'In a minute, Minerva. I am ... disciplining a student.'
'Much as you must enjoy disciplining Mr Malfoy,' her eyebrows shot up, 'I believe the job is generally reserved for his Head of House. A post which you no longer hold.'
'As Headmaster, I am well within my rights to dole out punishments to students.'
'Be that as it may, there is still a pressing issue for you in the Great Hall. I would suggest you attend to it immediately.' With another ice-cold glare, she disappeared. Snape's lips curled at the fireplace.
'Perhaps you should do as she says.' The suggestion was stated mildly, but the voice nearly made Draco jerk out of his chair. It was the same voice that had offered him and his family sanctuary last year ... the voice of a man he couldn't kill ... who had nevertheless been silenced.
Draco found himself trembling as he turned to look into the portrait of Albus Dumbledore.
'No doubt the Carrows have crossed one of her damnable ethical lines again,' muttered Snape. However, he turned back to Draco and said, 'You will remain in this office. I will deal with you later.'
With that, he strode briskly out of the office.
Dumbledore's painted lips twisted upwards into a crooked smile. 'Ah, Mr Malfoy,' he said genially.
There was a twisting feeling in the pit of Draco's stomach. He clenched his fists hard against the sides of the chair and looked down into his lap again.
'I hope you and your family are well?'
'What's it to you?' Draco hissed through gritted teeth. 'What were we ever to you?'
'Lives, Draco,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'Each and every life is a matter of immense importance.'
Slowly, Draco looked up again. That mocking smile was gone from the portrait's wizened face; he looked perfectly serious, perfectly sincere.
'Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine.'
'You can't help us now.' His voice felt queer and wobbly. 'You're ...' Dead, his mind completed the sentence.
Dumbledore nodded gravely. 'I hope nevertheless that my death has offered you a reprieve, however fleeting.'
Draco couldn't muster a response to this; the twisting in his stomach seemed to explode into something more painful.
'It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now.'
He shuddered. 'It doesn't matter,' he finally muttered. Dumbledore was dead, the Dark Lord had won, and the Malfoys were no better off. What did a stupid portrait know anyway? He turned away huffily and diligently ignored Dumbledore's presence as he waited sulkily for Snape to return.