"You're not coming?"
Severus wanted to stick his head into the cauldron they were standing over rather than face the grey eyes he knew were looking at him with disappointment, but he managed to do neither. He just continued stirring the potion calmly, not losing track of which rotation this was thanks to years of practice.
"You sound too much like your mother." He commented in no small amount of defeat.
He sensed rather than saw Draco pout beside him, near his elbow given how short the boy was as he too took careful note of the potion's color change rather then dignify that with an answer that would only get him in trouble, surely.
This potion was quite far above second-year level for someone his age to be learning, but when Severus had mentioned that he always spent Saturdays brewing potions to restock the hospital wing, Draco had very bluntly invited himself to bear witness to it, which was such a Narcissa thing to do Severus was starting to realize there was no hope for the boy. For as much as he seemed proud to live up to 'his father's' legacy, he was becoming more and more like his mother and it never failed to terrify Severus.
He'd been fooled, for sure. Tricked, as it were, into thinking he was becoming Lucius' son's godfather, given the boy was practically his clone, but the more he started repeating things only Narissa Black would've ever said the more Severus was losing hope.
Actually, his hope was well and truly dead at this point because he knew if he so much as glanced at the boy beside him right now, Draco would be giving him sad, disappointed eyes that his godfather wasn't attending the infamous Malfoy Christmas ball and Severus would undoubtedly be guilted into showing up anyway.
But that was absolutely not going to happen, because he knew for a fact Draco's 'plus one' was a red headed menace and Severus would rather stick his head in this half-finished potion than be trapped in a room to mingle with anyone, but very particularly a Potter.
Not on his life.
"I have a conflict Draco, perhaps next year." He lied smoothly.
"You're lying," The boy bluntly outed him, and Severus felt his temple twitch.
This brat…
He finally looked down at him with a mild glare, earning a grey-eyed stare right back, just much more unwaveringly.
"How blunt of you." He frowned, and no it was not a compliment.
Draco just stuck his chin up in defiance. "At this point I don't care how bad people think I am at manipulating people, because the fact is I am. But I've learned recently that being actually honest with people freaks my housemates out and now people are actually properly wary of me again. It's been great!" He chirped and yes, he definitely sounded happy about this development.
Severus silently cursed Narcissa to the pits of hell.
"Again, you sound like your mother."
"I mean, what are you going to do if it's the truth? I know you're lying, you just don't like talking to people." Draco complained, Severus suddenly deciding letting him stay to be a peanut gallery over his potion brewing as a terrible idea. This used to be his safe space, it used to be peaceful… now he was just stressed.
Draco had always been seen as a rather mediocre snake given his inability to read between the lines in most cases, much less that he seemed unable to do anything with the information he did obtain. The thing was, apparently he did notice quite a lot, just not the sort of things other snakes typically gave a shit about.
Things like how others felt about certain topics. Peoples' opinions on things did not typically mean much to Slytherin house, as in the end it never stopped any of them from making the deal or the trade. It was, frankly, information most considered superfluous.
Draco didn't though.
Draco suddenly found it very important to know what people thought about… well, everything.
And, quite spontaneously he'd suddenly developed not only the ability to nail it when deducing someone's emotions on a topic, but also the brazen bloody confidence to throw it in peoples' faces to knock them off their guard. Because yes, Severus did not want to make small talk in a stuffy ass pureblood party, but no one in their right mind had ever called him out on that to his face besides Minerva once about seven years ago—and she'd regretted it. At most people called him a dungeon bat behind his back to reference his anti-social tendencies, and the Slytherins he had around him like Lucius had always politely invited him to things while tip-toeing around his distaste for crowds.
No one, in their right mind, had ever just gone up to him and called him a recluse like this twelve-year-old boy beside him was doing now.
He also couldn't just turn and glower at him as he really did need to focus on completing the potion properly. Blood replacement drafts were tricky, and he wished the boy would stop talking so he could concentrate.
But he also couldn't just let Draco get the final word and incorrectly think he was somehow in the right.
"And what exactly are you hoping to achieve by being uselessly honest?" He challenged.
"I'm not being honest, I'm just telling people when their lying sucks." He huffed, crossing his arms in protest and Severus actually spared the potion a moment to simmer and shot him an incredulous look, to which he got a defiant look volleyed right back. "No one has ever held back when telling me that I suck so why the hell would I hold back either? You tell me all the time I'm too naïve and up front about things so it's only fair I tell you right back that no one ever believes your angry persona or whatever, everyone just knows you don't like talking to people."
Severus felt a headache coming on but forced himself to keep his composure for the sake of finishing this damn potion.
"If you're aware of that then why are you still talking?"
Draco gave a little scoff. "What, so all your lessons about me being too considerate of others' opinions meant nothing? Or was your opinion the exception somehow? I'm not supposed to care what anyone else thinks except you, then?"
Hm… this 'mentor' thing might have backfired a bit.
"In the spirit of being honest, then yes, that's exactly it."
He could almost sense Draco roll his eyes behind him but he did fall silent then as the most complicated part of the potion came up. It required adding the precise right ingredients at exactly the right pace, and as the ficedula roots needed to be chopped exactly three seconds before being added in while stirring counter-clockwise at one full turn every two seconds, Severus needed all this attention and dexterity for the next couple minutes to complete it. He did note in the back of his mind that Draco's silence implied he knew how difficult this part was and was letting him do it in peace… though he was sure he hadn't taught or even given the boy the texts about this particular potion yet.
So he'd been doing his own reading, it seemed.
He did enjoy the silence and sense of order that came from giving his entire focus to a potion he'd done many times before, as despite his experience it still required his full attention momentarily. The sense of peace the routine-yet-difficult task afforded him was nice, and as he finished the remaining steps he let it rest at a low simmer where it would stay for the next eleven minutes, giving him a small break.
He glanced back at his godson who was dutifully writing in one of his journals what he'd just observed, and it never failed to make Severus slightly uneasy at just how intently he was always watched when Draco wanted to know something. Why he wanted to know this potion was beyond him though.
He did however, get very suspicious when he couldn't help but notice he was writing these notes of his beneath a very detailed drawing of what looked like a human heart—clearly shakily done in his own hand but not a half bad rendition either, clearly copied carefully from something else.
"Is there a reason you're so interested in the circulatory system then?" He raised a brow, Draco lifting his head from his note to stare blankly back at him.
"Is the blood replenishing potion not related?" He countered.
"Technically." Severus allowed, but not about to let it drop. "That is not strictly needed information when learning to brew it though."
The blond frowned some, putting his quill in it's well beside him almost distractedly. "Yeah but… technically it's not unimportant either. You said rate of ingredient adage was directly related to the rate of absorption, and the rate of absorption is directly linked to how big someone's circulatory system is to be able to handle this potion. Which means the circulatory system or how big or old someone is, is directly related to this potion's dosage. You would need double the amount of potion I would in order to get the same effect, and that would be kind of important to know when giving it to someone, right?"
Severus stared.
To be truthful, he'd very rarely ever given someone one of his potions to drink. This one in particular he gave to Madam Pomfrey in bulk and he was just now learning she was probably dosing it out properly depending on who she was giving it to—adults or children, as needed. Of course he knew about dosages… but everything he made was for adult dosages, he had never considered until this moment that children might actually need smaller volumes than what he bottled.
Not that he was about to admit that—he was the potions master here, thank you.
"That's not precisely information that will be on any test." He deflected instead, and luckily Draco just rolled his eyes.
"That's really hypocritical coming from you—half of what you teach me will never be on the OWLs or any test that you don't write yourself. Isn't the purpose of brewing potions to give them to people eventually? I would think knowing how to do that properly would then be pretty important."
He made a point, but that's not really how the world worked.
"Healers diagnose and dose potions—potion masters simply create them. I brew for the art and the craft itself." He said simply, checking the time as he did so to meter how long he had left until he needed to start stirring again.
He didn't see Draco's face flicker behind him as he did so.
"So healers don't brew the potions but they are expected to know how they work?"
"I'm sure you could ask Madam Pomfrey if you're that curious." Severus gave a shrug, not really understanding this line of questioning. "There's a lot more to healing than just knowing the potions and charms required, just as there's a lot more to brewing potions than a healer would ever have time to understand properly. I know the Madam can brew better than anyone else at this school besides myself, but she rarely does so when she has me at her disposal." He explained.
Draco's face frowned even more deeply. "Ironic since she said you could probably heal the best in the school besides her."
Severus paused… and pointedly turned from the potion to raise a brow at his godson who froze at the look he was getting.
"So you have talked to her already."
"Were you… not aware of that?"
"Was I supposed to be aware?" He countered right back, suspicion making itself known. "When are you spending large amounts of time in the hospital wing then, Draco? I know for a fact if you were injured then Narcissa would be in my ear immediately about why I didn't inform her."
Grey eyes flickered to the side a bit, but then he just shrugged with a tense air about him.
"It's not me, it's Harry. Idiot gets hurt all the time," He half muttered, and Severus was not touching that with a hundred-foot pole.
The last half of the semester had been relatively peaceful for him, Severus finally managing to just ignore the Potter brat's existence most of the time. Draco seemed to be busier and not just hanging out with that menace for no reason so the topic rarely came up outside of class times, and even then Draco being a diligent student meant Potter also just shut up and brewed beside his partner. It left Severus free to happily pick off points on the Gryffindor side of the room and completely ignore them.
The most serious thing to note had been that damn firecracker nearly roasting the boy… but he hadn't had a reaction and actually finished the potion again without complaint. Ever since the boy had been near silent in his class, Severus catching him eyeing everyone in the room warily and knew the boy was now just on guard against a repeat. Which, good because potions were dangerous and now he was taking it seriously.
It had to have hurt, Severus knew that better than anyone. He wasn't about to lose his record and let anyone die in his class, much less this specific brat that was so critical to Dumbledore for some reason… much less Lily's son.
He would not let the boy die, obviously he wouldn't.
He wouldn't let anyone die because he was a teacher damn it.
But he also was not about to think twice about the red-headed terror's non-reaction either, because he seemed fine enough, so fine he was.
Draco's comment to how much Potter got injured did make him realize the boy probably was more than a little danger prone, so spending a lot of time near Madam Pomfrey was probably the reason he was suddenly asking about the difference between healers and potion masters.
And now that he was thinking about it, he hadn't really had a conversation with Poppy in a bit—at least not the strictly business exchanges they'd had where she informed him what potions she needed restocked. Actually these days he often just found a letter on his desk with the requests; she hadn't been down to make the visit herself in… well at least a month but he honestly couldn't remember when it started.
He couldn't be too shocked either, Potter alone probably took up half her time with injuries, much less being on call for if another petrified student was found. The real reason though, he suspected, was that she was much closer friends with Minerva, who was not his biggest fan at the moment.
That the Gryffindor head of house was so clearly favoring the Potter brat and actually picking arguments with him in staff meetings for his bullshit all of a sudden was really fucking annoying, but Dumbledore didn't seem to care to intervene at all. At this point he was losing steam in actually being willing to fight back because she was exhausting and stubborn as hell; he just didn't have the energy or time for that anymore when there were actual staffing things to discuss. It didn't help that no one ever really came to either of their aides—at least not publicly. Severus strongly suspected Pomona and Filius agreed with Minerva but were keeping it to themselves for the sake of peace or neutrality or something.
However, none of them ever made casual trips to his classroom to talk, pretty much ever. Being isolated in the dungeons was one thing, but it had never really stopped anyone before when visiting Aurora in the astronomy tower if he were to go about making comparisons.
Not that he was complaining… he suspected the lack of visitors was actually partly the reason why his semester had been so peaceful, so he kind of enjoyed it. It was that he also wasn't unaware of the tensions and divides happening amongst the staff right now, so he wasn't overly shocked that Poppy had silently chosen a side herself and was keeping a distance between them.
However… just because he wasn't personally missing any of them, didn't mean this was a good thing ultimately. The dark lord having possessed Quirrell last year was a bad omen, as it implied he was not nearly as gone as everyone would love to think. If there was any chance he could return… Severus was hyper aware that his only value after all this time was as a spy to Dumbledore on the dark lord's behalf, and frankly vice versa as well. If something were to ever happen and the lines got more firmly drawn, Severus did not want to be on the wrong side of it—he wanted to be able to play both fields and therefore be able to choose which side had the best chance of survival.
Poppy distancing herself was… not good. She was infamously strict, but one of the strongest neutral parties in this entire school. He had heard tell that she'd once declined a personal invite from the dark lord himself and was not only still alive but perfectly fine so… she was not someone he wanted as an enemy. While he didn't mind the distance, he needed to know she still accepted him, because Minerva clearly had public issues with him now and those two women were the closest to Dumbledore personally—if they began questioning him openly, while it might not ultimately change things now, he was sure the headmaster would start to reconsider things in a time of open war.
He did not believe Dumbledore would ever discard him, going off of his reasons for switching sides.
He did however believe that the senile old bastard would start to share less with him in a heartbeat if he wasn't squeaky clean in his shows of loyalty, and since Severus needed information like he needed air to survive, that couldn't happen.
On the flip side, if the dark lord ever commanded him to obtain information on one of his colleagues, and Severus only struck up a conversation with them for the first time during a time of active conflict, after years of being divided, he would immediately be far too suspicious of a spy.
Which meant… he shouldn't be picking fights with Minerva anymore, and he should be making some effort to communicate with his coworkers. He needed to sooth the divide between him and them before anything else happened and it was too late.
Ugh.
"Are you thinking of socializing with people again?" Draco brought him out of his internal musing and he couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"Why would I tell you that?"
"I was just saying… it was kind of obvious." Draco stuck his tongue out and Severus flicked him on the forehead to get him to shut up—earning a loud complaint of pain as a reward.
"I'm not going to your little party as I have duties to attend to here. Winter break is for students, but teachers still work to plan for the coming semester and I had planned to discuss things with my colleagues without interruptions." He glanced pointedly at him in reference to the interruptions he was talking about.
Draco rolled his own eyes that time but gave up, releasing a hefty sigh.
"Fine, whatever…" He grumbled. "I would think you'd want to get out of the castle given there's a petrification monster wandering around."
Severus just tisked, unphased.
One of those more important things to discuss at staff meetings over him bickering with Minerva just so happened to be this petrification issue, but Dumbledore was only too happy to eat up time letting two of his staff members slide back-handed comments at each other rather than addressing the monster in the castle. Still, it came up every time the staff gathered and at half their meals at this point and they'd gotten nowhere.
They'd run every ward and diagnostic spell known to man—and a couple Severus knew that the Ministry might not strictly know he knew—but the castle was the same as it always was. For all the traces they'd found, students were spontaneously just turning to stone with no apparent cause, and the idea it was some kind of creature, specifically Slytherin's creature of some sort, was yet to be proven.
The idea the Chamber of Secrets was even real was yet to be proven, as Severus had done a lot of research in his life as head of Slytherin house with zero evidence to support that myth had even an iota of truth to it. It was a fairytale that got passed down to get little snakes exploring the halls of their school in hopes of finding it, like a generational prank more than anything of actual substance.
From what he'd gathered from his own house, the whole Mrs. Norris thing seemed a little too dramatic for a proper snake… not that they didn't have some serious duds in their ranks but let's just say those unsharpened blades did not quite have the talent to unearth a petrification spell on anyone. The cat had also been cut open for her blood after being petrified they'd found, so there was a good chance some twisted student found a frozen Mrs. Norris and decided to pull a prank. That was something someone like Marcus Flint would do in a heartbeat, and going by the loud boasting he was doing during potions classes to get a rise out of his lion counterparts, Severus could easily buy he'd done it just to cause animosity and fear.
He wasn't against it, not entirely. He knew enough dark arts that he doubted any kind of sudden attack or weird flux in the castle would permanently damage him, so he personally was not that worried. Besides, the potion to fix it was pitifully easy, Poppy could do it in her sleep once the mandrakes came in, and Pomona was growing enough to get them a ten year supply of disenpetrification brew, so it really wasn't that big a deal if it did turn out to be the castle just deciding to freeze people randomly. In a couple months it would be easy to fix and Severus kind of hoped it was just the castle being weird… Hogwarts was plenty weird and frankly he'd seen it do weirder in his time living here.
Honestly he kind of understood: if he needed to spend a thousand years housing so many annoying brats and angsty teenagers, he'd start petrifying people too if he could. He probably wouldn't last ten years much less however long Hogwarts had been putting up with their shit.
But even if all that weren't pretty believable, the most likely reason was the rumor he'd picked up on that Lockhart had unwittingly brought some dark object with him and had no idea he was causing this mess.
That man, was absolutely useless.Worse than dumb, because he was just clever enough to have an ego the size of the moon and was really fucking annoying about it. Severus had been avoiding him like the plague, as seeing him at staff meetings was frankly too much of him already.
He was so confidently incompetent though, Severus didn't doubt for a second he'd picked up something insanely dark and was probably fucking wearing it with his stupid sparkly robes distracting everyone away from whatever it was. He'd done a couple subtle wards to see if he could find anything on the idiot but nothing had come up… but even without proof Severus hated him so much he couldn't help but still believe it was somehow the buffoon's fault.
The nail in the coffin though was trying to bring this suspicion up to Dumbledore, who'd dismissed him out of hand.
Severus had worked for the so-called leader of the Light long enough to know that if Albus Dumbledore dismissed your concerns, it was because he had something to do with the concern in the first place. Maybe he genuinely didn't know what this petrification deal was all about, but he was sure as help benefitting off of the situation somehow and didn't want people to look closer.
The fact parents were not contacted en masse, how the Ministry had not been informed nor Aurors permitted to come onto school grounds, how barely any time was given to discuss the issue at staff meetings, how their own fucking headmaster gave them no guidance or game plan about what to do or how to comfort their students' concerns and everything they'd done so far had been of their own initiative… and then finally, how any concern or suggestion to what it might be was dismissed or given a grandfatherly nod of support but no concrete confirmation or attention, really drove home that Dumbledore didn't want this situation to change at all. Either he also believed it was just the castle being weird, or he knew something they didn't and wasn't sharing… or neither of those things were true and Albus had no idea what it was but was still using the situation to his advantage for something else entirely unrelated, giving zero fucks about the students and staff who might get petrified before the potions were done.
Not that he ever cared.
And well, if Dumbledore wasn't going to care, and more importantly wasn't going to make him pretend to care for once, then Severus was not wasting a second more than necessary on something clearly the headmaster was handling. For better or worse, as by now Severus knew better than anyone that Albus Dumbledore was fully capable of using any situation for the worse, but at the very least he knew he was not expendable to the old man, so he'd probably be fine. He had never been able to do anything about Dumbledore's complicated schemes anyway, so he was just going along with it for now.
He wasn't spending any more time on it until he was told otherwise, and that included giving credence to Draco's comments about it either.
"That's for me to worry about, never you mind."
The boy huffed, but had mercy for once and dropped it, finallyswitching back to potions as he always did.
"Where did you get the ficedula root?"
"I have a trusted Herbologist I get most of my rarer ingredients from," Severus gave him another blank look. "No I'm not telling you where."
"Why not?"
"For some reason your sudden interest in obtaining materials makes me think you're brewing behind my back."
Draco looked offended, small face crumpling into a scowl. "That's cruel, when have I ever broken one of your rules? Like I'd risk you being my tutor just to blow myself up on a NEWT level potion." He made his annoyance at Severus' implication about his intelligence known.
"Why do you need ficedula root then?"
"I don't, I'm just curious about where someone would get random things like this. I know for a fact it's not sold in stores in Diagon but I did see it in Contrair Alley once. I was suspicious is all."
Severus fully turned to give him an incredulous look.
"When have you been to Contrair?" he was very taken aback… as a half-blood obviously he'd slunk his way down there a time or two, particularly because those Odd Solutions or whatever they were really were handy sometimes… but on his life he would've never imagined a Malfoy would set foot on that street.
Draco's ears went red but he puffed out his chest defiantly. "Harry took me once. It was lame but it had it's uses." He refused to be embarrassed although his posture clearly said he kind of was.
Severus wanted to say more but he was honestly distracted by the news. Ficedula root was notoriously difficult to grow, much less harvest, which is why he had so far needed to order it from a specialty Herbologist on Hogwarts' dime for the hospital wing. He'd never actually been able to purchase it himself given how pricy it was due to its rarity and difficulty. It was so difficult in fact, that St. Mungos sometimes requested him for blood replenishing potions when they ran short, and sometimes it was definitely because the on-site potion brewers over there couldn't find the ingredients they needed to get the proper potion volumes in stock. His Herbologist contact actually specialized in only six ingredients, but they were all insanely difficult plants to cultivate, and the man spent his entire life on those six plants alone thanks to the specialty.
That it was being sold in a shop down in Contrair Alley had him highly intrigued and suspicious. Either it was a terrible knock off, badly yet cheaply grown… or it was genuinely publicly available ficedula root and if that were the case he was making a trip as soon as the students were out of the castle for break.
"Interesting. What exactly did you see then?"
Draco tilted his head as he remembered back. "The most interesting was the ficedula, but I guess also the literal bucket of Theraphosidae hair was also pretty cool. I have no idea how they got that much, you'd need to shave like a million spiders, easily."
Another very difficult ingredient to get. He needed to start going to Contrair apparently.
Severus was thrilled the conversation had gone back to potions, much less his favorite topic of where to get the ingredients he needed. The less he needed to ever give thought to… well, literally anything else, the better.
Merry Christmas to himself indeed.
000
The potions master was so enthralled in tending to his potion and listening to tales of the Contrair Alley Apothecary, he didn't see Draco silently close his book behind him, tucking the notes on healing out of sight before his mentor could wonder too closely about it.
Yeah… Draco probably wasn't the best snake out there. He knew he missed a lot of things he shouldn't—things everyone else thought were obvious. He knew Theo in particular was silently getting angrier by the day that he wasn't picking up on things, but Draco was so lost as to what he wasn't seeing that at this point he didn't really know how to catch up.
What he did know though, after over a year in Slytherin house and delicately (desperately) walking the tightrope game between Slytherin and Gryffindor for the sake of everything he wanted out of life, was how to read people.
He did not know why Theo was mad at him, but he knew the mousey Slytherin was silently pissed. Despite the fact the guy never so much as snubbed him or glared at him, he knew by the way blue eyes would follow him over that ever-present book sometimes when he and Blaise were talking around him. Theo never joined the conversation but sometimes Draco knew whatever he was saying was pissing his quiet roommate off to the pits of hell.
He did not know why but he knew Greengrass was extremely upset about something, always when it was them and Harry talking at lunch or some study session. He didn't know what triggered it but he could clock on immediately when something in the conversation reminded her of whatever was on her mind that seemed to be churning in her stomach sickeningly.
He also had no fucking clue why Blaise did anything that he did, but he also knew the Zabini heir was well and truly unhinged going by how honestly happy he was anytime someone brought up the petrification monster haunting their school days now.
He resigned himself to his fate, because he also unfortunately knew a little bit more about how Gryffindors worked compared to his own house, and they were way easier to read.
Harry, was easy to read.
Draco had no idea what triggered any of his moods, but he could also see when his best friend was upset from across the Great Hall. He could tell he was pissed off no matter his poker face, and he could tell when he was trying not to cry even if he was actively smiling or laughing it off. He could tell how afraid he was to even breathe a word about that werewolf of his, how terrified he was that this would be the thing that finally made Draco walk away.
Again, he resigned himself.
If only he could figure out why Harry did anything he did, his life would be much easier but… so far that perception remained out of his reach for now.
Draco didn't know why anyone did anything, but he could practically sense what they felt about it at this point. He'd only just recently started attempting to use that skill to actually get his way when he could, and as always he had only gotten bold enough to use it first on his godfather before anyone else. Severus would always cut him back down to size if he was too overconfident, or if whatever tactic he was attempting to use sucked, he felt safer to do it to his mentor who wouldn't immediately use it to ruin his social life like Blaise would.
Still… despite feeling like he had a safety net here and being perhaps a bit too cocky with his godfather, he was not really expecting for it to work… quite so well.
Things Draco knew about his godfather: the man loved potions more than anything in the world, he did not like talking about the dark lord, he did not like socializing with anyone (ever), and above all… he wanted nothing to do with Harry.
Even worse than talking about Gryffindors, even worse than talking about Dumbledore or the dark lord or inviting him to a hundred tea parties with his mother, Draco knew Severus would rather him spit into the potion he was brewing right now than ask him his thoughts about 'Harry Potter'.
And Severus took potion brewing about as seriously as he took breathing, so Draco knew his… maybe not hatred, but his die-hard dedication to ignore that Harry even existed was a very powerful thing.
Again, Draco had no idea why, but he suspected Severus would ignore every red flag imaginable if they just so happened to be waving over Harry's head—anything at all to avoid the topic of that particular Gryffindor.
Draco knew he wasn't a good liar, especially not to his godfather who'd practically taught him everything he knew about the skill. So when he'd come close to bringing up the lessons on healing he'd been taking from the Madam, and Severus hadn't known what he was talking about… he'd back pedaled instinctively.
Information was a Slytherin's lifeblood and it was very rare Draco ever knew something someone else didn't, but especially his godfather. Just because he didn't often get a chance to use it didn't mean he hadn't learned the lesson to shut your mouth and never give away information for free since birth.
The only person immune to his new ability to pick up on peoples' emotions thus far was Madam Pomfrey, whose prim and business-like mask never wavered a second to give him a clue what she actually thought about anything. But, he already knew she was scary so he didn't push too hard with her out of respect… and a healthy dose of fear.
He was under the impression teachers talked to each other, so he had never really thought to just bring up to his godfather his apparent penchant for healing. In fact last time Madam Pomfrey had patched up a burn he'd gotten from sitting too close to Finnegan while he blew up yet another charm, by the time he'd gotten back to his dorm he'd had a letter from his mother waiting on his bed to scold him about being more careful. The Madam had clearly informed his mother who had sent a house elf to deliver her words—all of it probably hadn't taken 40 minutes, tops.
Things his mother knew, Severus ultimately knew since he was her eyes on her son while at Hogwarts, so Draco hadn't even considered his godfather wouldn't know. He'd fully assumed his parents and pretty much every other adults in his life knew about his new ability and hobby here, but if Severus didn't know then… potentially, his parents didn't know either. Actually, Draco was completely sure his parents didn't know, because if his mother knew then she would have told Severus to watch him like a hawk to ensure he wasn't doing anything dangerous given it was an unknown ability to her.
But WHY would Madam Pomfrey not tell his parents? She told them everything else!
Then again… he couldn't read her. He had no idea what she thought about anything, but he did trust her implicitly. She was too freaking intimidating to dare question, so he just hadn't… ever.
And maybe he'd panicked for a moment, realizing he was now caught between two choices: follow the Madam's lead and say nothing, or confide in his godfather what he'd been up to for weeks now. Months, honestly, entirely oblivious that his new hobby was apparently a secret?
I mean, it didn't have to be a secret, right? Why would he hide anything from his godfather or his parents?
As soon as the thought formed though… he instinctively decided to keep it to himself.
For now.
No apparent reason exactly, he just decided was all.
So he'd brought up Harry, and true to his suspicion Severus had dropped the subject like a hissing snake and been happily distracted by the talk of potions ingredients, no longer pressing the question line of why Draco suddenly cared so much about how potions were used in healing. Talking about ingredients he certainly did seem to be in a much more chipper mood than Draco had ever really seen him be before… which just further drove home the fact that even his own godfather didn't really enjoy talking to him about anything non-potion related. He didn't take it personally as Draco was pretty sure there wasn't anyone on earth his godfather actually liked to talk to—the fact he let him in here in the first place was probably enough.
It was just a hobby, after all. He didn't need to bother Severus with something he'd probably get bored of eventually.
Besides, Severus didn't want to talk about Harry so… he probably wouldn't want to hear how he discovered this ability, nor why he'd been looking into it in the first place. He might have a stroke.
Convinced he was doing his godfather a favor by keeping his new hobby to himself, he relaxed back into talking potion ingredients since it was their last chance to catch up before break.