With Stitches.

“I cannot believe this happened!” Draco hisses, glaring at me as he crosses his arms.

“Ex-excuse me…? Are… Are you insinuating that this is my fault?! Do you honestly think I wanted to be separated from the only person I can actually trust in this damn school?!” I rant, nostrils flaring. I cross my own arms. “Maybe it’s for the best, anyway-”

“And why is that?” Draco demands, eyeing me furiously.

“Harry Potter is a much better guide, friend, and overall person than you will ever be-” Draco suddenly slams me against the stone wall, arm firmly against my throat. The pain strikes my back abruptly and my breathing grows short.

“How dare you compare me to that foul, disgusting-”

“Enough,” Draco glares into my eyes fiercely, but backs away, letting me fall to the cobblestone in a huff of lost air.

“You fucking lunatic!” I cry, gasping to regain my breath.

“It’s a wonder I lived with a Mudblood for three months-”

“Call me a Mudblood again. I dare you-”

“Enough,” Severus repeats a littler louder, holding Draco back with a firm hand. “You two need to escort me to my office. We need to converse,” Severus grabs me by the elbow (though softer than with Draco) and drags us both down many flights of moving stairs and into a cold, stone corridor.

“The dungeon?” I question almost silently, afraid of my own echo bouncing off the walls.

“It is,” Severus replies much louder, letting go of our arms as we step in front of a short desk.

“It’s freezing down here. How do you work?”

“Never mind that, Ms. Parker. I have brought you here to discuss the misfortune of this situation-”

“Can you believe she got sorted into Gryffindor? Daring and brave don’t particularly suit her; though I don’t believe she’s cunning enough for Slytherin, either-”

“Shut it, Malfoy, before my daring fist collides with your cunning face-”

“ENOUGH!” Severus booms once more and, though mine and Draco’s glares remain intently on each other, we stay silent.

“Yes, Ms. Parker was supposed to be placed into Slytherin, but I propose that this is much more effective,”

“Which is exactly what I have to say,” I exclaim, placing my hands behind my back as I switched my eyes to Severus.

“If I stay in Gryffindor, I can get much closer to Potter; possibly even get into his head,” Even though I feel terrible for speaking about a potential friend this way, I know that my duty is to the Dark Lord, and I don’t have any choice in the matter.

“You are quite clever, aren’t you? The Sorting Hat is old and wise, but perhaps he did place you in the wrong house,” Severus sits in the immense, emerald chair behind his desk, folding his hands over a stack of essays damp with red ink.

“As the year progresses, I advise Ms. Parker to become closer to Potter, no matter what the circumstances,” Severus looks at me expectantly, and I nod, stepping backward as Draco steps ahead.

“As for you, Draco; you know your task. I expect you to accomplish it,” Draco says nothing more to Severus as he strides away, knocking me roughly to the ground with his shoulder.

“Filthy little Mudblood-”

“Pampered jackass,” I spit back. Draco pauses in the doorway before stepping back over the threshold, slamming the door behind him.

“You two haven’t stopped fighting since you’ve arrived at the Manor,” Severus glides gracefully toward me, reaching out a caring hand, face unchanging. I wince, pain shooting through my back as I stand to my feet.

“He’s never hurt me before. Never physically,” I ponder out loud, dusting myself off.

“The Malfoys have a history with Mud-” I shoot a glare Severus’ way, stopping him mid-sentence.

“With… Muggle-Borns… They’d rather them be non-existent,”

“Pure-Bloods are so sensitive,” I scowl, wondering why Draco will discriminate against “my kind” when even Voldemort will not.

“It’s been a sensitive subject since the first half-breed was conceived,”

“You know I hate it when you use those words, Severus,” I scrunch my nose. “They make me feel like I’m…lower than everyone else,” Severus is a very kind and gentle man, and, even though he chooses to hide it with a very hard, impassive exterior, he can never hide it from me. Severus pulls me into a stiff, but very comforting hug, shortly rubbing my back.

“You are far superior to everyone here, Dawson. Don’t let anyone, especially me, tell you otherwise,” I sigh, grinning pleasantly.

“Thank you, Severus,” A miniscule smile pulls on the corner of his lips.

“You are to call me Professor Snape here, Ms. Parker,” he insists, gliding back to his desk and sitting down, sliding his ink-drenched quill across his student’s work.

“Of course, Professor,” I sigh, grinning and waving once before walking from Severus’ office. Once outside, I place my hands on my knees, bending over and breathing heavily. Having him that close; having him hold me so tightly- Though I shouldn’t be thinking this (My Lord could be listening to my thoughts at this very moment) I can’t believe I’m in love with Professor Severus Snape.