Work Text:
"UNCLE SEV! UNCLE SEV! SEVERUUUUUUUUS!! YOU HAVE TO COME!" came a high voice through no fewer than three walls and closing quickly. If he concentrated, he was starting to hear the patter of small feet as they raced down the marble halls.
When the door slammed open with a bang, Severus took a deep breath and valiantly refrained from throttling the child. He continued stirring his potion instead, and waited for Draco to say anything informative. Or pressing. Or relevant.
He wasn't holding his breath.
"YOU HAVE TO COME SEE, SEV! I DON'T — HE WASN'T — HE WAS ALL COVERED IN DIRT!"
The horror.
One of his little play mates tripped in a puddle, he was sure, or else stepped in some mud. Honestly, for all that his own childhood had been a horror he wouldn't wish to impose on anyone — not Black for trying to kill him, nor Potter for marrying Lily, nor the Dark Lord himself for killing her — he couldn't help but think that it would do Draco some good to spend a week in the summer poking about Cokeworth, if only for the muggle boys skulking around, running wild to give him a dose of reality and put an end to all of his tedious whining.
He continued his stirring, counting the time under his breath and glanced to see that the salamander blood was right where he'd left it. He absolutely did not say something that would result in Narcissa giving him that disappointed look of hers should Draco decide to repeat it to her when she returned home. Or, Merlin forbid, should his comments make Draco cry. He hated that look of hers with a passion, and would do quite a lot to avoid it.
"SEV, WHY AREN'T YOU LISTENING!"
This last word was said with an almighty shriek, accompanied by a burst of accidental magic strong enough to rattle the jars on the shelves. He may only be here temporarily, and he may only be brewing to pass the time rather than out of some dire need, but neither excused such poor treatment of the ingredients in this lab nor any other.
He frowned at Draco, making sure his displeasure was known. It was one thing to throw a tantrum as a child, but Draco had gotten his Hogwarts letter a week ago, and would be one of his Slytherins in just over a month. He should be exhibiting quite a bit more control over both his emotions and his magic by now.
"Control yourself, Draco. Take a breath or two, and when you are calm, clearly and concisely state your issue and what you are asking me to do about it."
His voice was cold, but not especially sharp. He would not be dealing with Narcissa's disappointment over making her darling son cry.
Nevertheless, he heard a disgusting wet sniffle, and looked up from his potion long enough to see Draco wiping his nose with his sleeve. Children were universally disgusting, whether theoretically well-bred or not.
"I-I-," Draco started. He took another breath and started again. "Father said I could fly while he was gone today, practice some moves so as to prepare myself for the team," he finished importantly.
Severus barley refrained from rolling his eyes. For the team he said, as though he had already earned a spot on the Slytherin Quidditch Team through either his father's bribes or his own merits. As though he had also somehow overcome the rules that both Lucius and himself strongly agreed with, that prevented First Years from having their own brooms with them whilst on campus, whether "experienced" in flying alone or not.
The thought was simply absurd.
Nonetheless, he gave an encouraging nod, making a mental note to double check later that Lucius had indeed approved of Draco's flying without active supervision and was refraining from filling Draco's head with fanciful nonsense about being granted a spot on the team early. Luckily, that nod was all Draco needed to continue his story.
"I started off flying over the gardens, you know, over the green and Mum's roses and so on, but it was just so boring without a snitch to catch or anyone to fly against. So I flew out further, out towards the oaks, you know..."
Here Draco paused, clearly debating whether whatever upset him was worth confessing to having flown out of bounds.
He coughed, then made his decision, straightened his back and said, "I was flying in the thick of it, dodging in between them, making dives through the branches..." He flushed, fidgeting at the confession, and then his face dropped into distress again.
"And then I SAW HIM!" Draco wailed. "He- He- He was lying in the bushes, like he was hurt or something, but THERE WAS ALL THIS BLOOD ALL OVER EVERYWHERE, and I, and I, HIS LEG WAS ALL TURNED BACKWARDS AND BENT WRONG AND YOU HAVE TO COME QUICKLY, SEV!"
Well, so much for maintaining his calm.
Severus sighed and took a step back from his cauldron, closing his eyes for a moment, sending out his magic to check on the wards. He certainly wasn't the master of the house, but he at least should have been warned if there was a dying intruder on the property, and long before Draco got close enough to see the dying man.
Nothing.
He would have to investigate then.
"Draco, stay here," he said, vanishing his half-brewed potion. "Dobby—"
"No!" Draco cut in. "I have to go with you!"
There was a pop, and a smelly house elf appeared, wringing its ears and tugging at its filthy pillowcase toga.
Severus took the moment to breathe and to think, querying the wards once more. No dice. The wards didn't know where the intruder was, so if he didn't want to be searching the woods fruitlessly for the next few hours, Draco would have to lead him. How he knew that he wouldn't be able to find the intruder was a matter he'd have to think about later. For now…
"Dobby you will remain at Draco's side for the duration. At my word, you will remove him promptly to the secure room in the dungeons. You will stay there and guard him until such a time as his father comes for him. Should the house no longer be safe, you will attempt to bring Draco to the Black safe house, then to the Malfoy safe house, then his mother's side, and then his father's. Is that clear?"
Draco had paled and was shivering now, and the house elf looked no better. At least they were taking this seriously. Should the intruder attack, or should an ambush be waiting for them, he'd have little attention to spare with shouting at them to run away.
"Yes, Master Batty," Dobby replied.
Severus sneered. Honestly. He'd never understand why Narcissa put up with having the thing in her house, status symbol or not.
With a final stern look at them both, Severus drew his wand and gestured for Draco to lead the way. The sooner this was dealt with, the better.
They walked up and out of the basement potions lab, out of the manor through the East Entrance, and then cut straight across the lawn. As they walked, Severus kept his wand drawn, his senses open, and his mind turned to the wards, but he noticed nothing.
At the treeline, Severus held up a hand for a stop, and took a moment to conduct a full sweep: point me, revelio, and so on, and even asked the house elf to do the same with whatever magics it could perform, but still they found nothing.
"Where was it, Draco?" he asked softly, voice barely loud enough to carry.
"At the thicket? With all the oaks?"
Severus stared at him. Waiting. Patient. He needed more detail than that, and the boy knew it. Or rather, it should be obvious if he would only take a moment to think.
"Right next to the clearing," Draco finally said, eyes scrunched shut in concentration. "At the base of one of the trees with all those Simpering Toadstools, the one with the thickest ivy on it?"
His voice rose at the end, putting a question to the statement, but it was enough. Severus knew where they were going now.
"Very well. Follow me. Cautiously. You have your orders, Dobby."
"Save Master Draco," the house elf replied with a solemn nod, and grabbed the back of Draco's robes in a tight fist.
Severus didn't think he'd ever seen a house elf take anything so seriously before, and it was altogether creepy to see. And it likely wouldn't be the last thing he wished he could have obliviated from his mind by the end of the day.
Cautiously, Severus stepped through the woods towards the clearing, pausing every so often to wait as Draco climbed over a fallen trunk or dodged branches.
Even in the early afternoon, the trees soon grew thick enough to block out the light, and Severus debated the merits of lighting a lumos for them to see by. The shadows grew as the sun grew fainter, and with every snap of a twig and rustle of the wind he tensed, sure the ambush was upon them.
And then, just as Severus was trying to discern exactly which tree Draco meant, he heard a sniffling behind him. He spun, but before he could take in what was happening, Draco was running, off towards one of the trees.
"Willoughby? Willoughby? Are you still there? Willoughby?"
He couldn't take the time just then to scowl at the elf for letting his charge slip away, but he'd be sure to shout at him quite a bit when this whole fiasco was over.
Draco gave another cry and was now kneeling by a damned holly bush with his hands outstretched, probably about to try eating the poisoned berries in a fit of madness by how this day had been going.
"Willoughby," Draco said again, with a rather piteous moan.
He could've sworn he'd heard the name before, but in what context? There clearly wasn't a full-grown wizard small enough to fit under the bush where Draco's attention was focused, and he rather thought that if an ambush was waiting, they'd have had ample chance to spring it by now what with the distraction and the wailing.
Draco's pleas turned to heartbroken sobs as Severus was doing another scan of the trees, and he steadied himself for what he would find.
Carefully, he used his wand to nudge a branch out of his line of sight. He blinked, shook his head, and blinked again.
Another revealing spell, and Severus just barely refrained from gnashing his teeth.
All of this, for a bloody pet pigeon.
Merlin, children were nightmares.