Disclaimer: I don’t own the Harry Potter books. JK Rowling does.

Warnings: In this chappie? Not much... kinda... sorta... not really... eh.

Author’s Notes: For darling dearest Matrix, my slash and BL fledgling, who has been fangirling with me in the HP fandom. The ending is a bit rushed, but Mother is giving me the Evil Eye. Beta’d by namikun. :D

NOTE: I have never read the books. Yup. Never. Not once. And while I would like to point out that there is the basic fact that I’ve been saving for a tablet – which is 1500 – and have no intention to throw away that money for a few books. I also refuse to go near the local library, which is a place of evil. So, until my friend decides to start talking to me again, and lend me the books, I only have around six months of fanfiction and four and a half movies to go off. If there is anything wrong, tell me, do not flame me.

Looking back on it, Severus realised that perhaps asking his favourite student and one and only Godson to be the demonstration for the Veritaserum project that the seventh year Advanced Potion class was studying wasn’t his brightest idea. Of course, he had asked Draco to do it because he had experience with the truth serum, for he had spent the previous summer after one Harry Potter defeated one Dark Lord Voldemort having it shoved down his throat everytime he was interrogated by the various Auror’s who had swarmed his and his parents holding cells at the Ministry. Thankfully, Draco hadn’t done anything too bad, save one errand kick to a house-elf when he was three, and Tonks had felt rather bad for him after Lucius had exploded rather suddenly when being allowed to see his son and heir. The explosion had consisted of name-calling, swearing, and a single, well aimed blow to the side of Draco’s head before Narcissa had slapped her husband twice, told his he was an oversized bully with no sense of regret or decent judgment, and, oh yes, she would like a divorce.

Thankfully, Narcissa, too, hadn’t done that much, and Lucius had been the only one sent to Azkaban, where he and all his Death Eater buddies traded sexual favours with the guards in return for Muggle playing cards and scotch. And thus every Tuesday and Thursday night was poker night in the Wizarding World’s notorious prison, and usually on Tuesday’s it was strip poker.

Narcissa had, after she and her son had been released, gotten her divorce, got the Malfoy fortune transferred from Lucius’ account in Gringotts and into Draco’s, although he wouldn’t be allowed to touch it until he was twenty one, promptly married a tall, muscled, icy-blonde rich wizard named Ludwig who lived in Austria, trading expensive potions ingredients. He also owned several Wizarding and Muggle porn studios, although technically Narcissa ‘didn’t know’. Severus figured Ludwig was a bit on the dull side, if the sudden burst of gay porn magazines in and around Draco’s bed written in Austrian, French, Italian and German was anything to go by.

But now wasn’t the time to reminisce. After all, he had a class full of irate, idiotic, annoying Gryffindors, all of whom were eyeing the, what Draco had named, Little Glass Bottle of Doooom that held the Veritaserum. Ron Weasley looked particularly joyous, obviously thinking up various embarrassing questions he could yell out when Draco was doing his little demonstration.

A image of a tiny, bubble-headed Weasley snaked it’s way into Severus’ mind, for some odd reason naked and excessively freckly, screaming, ‘Are you a virgin, are you a virgin?!’ in a little old lady voice. Severus shook his head, and idly decided it was high time he aired out the classroom. Obviously, all the fumes were getting to him.

“As you all know, at least, I hope you know, because those who don’t will fail this class, Veritaserum is a truth inducing potion. What does it cause?” Severus spoke, pointedly ignoring Granger’s madly waving hand. Annoying little bint, he thought affectionately. Yes, Merlin knew the world wouldn’t have been worth living in if it weren’t for the joyous sport of Gryffindor baiting. “Anyone?” He asked, internally dancing in glee as Granger went a odd, splotchy red colour, her hand waving around so much that Severus wouldn’t have been surprised if it dropped right off. He smiled at that little mental image, thinking of how he would stand on the fallen hand, curse it and then say that he had dropped a potion on it when Poppy asked him why it was in such horrid condition whilst the nurse tried to reattach it.

Harry Potter then idly raised his hand, and before Severus could say, No, Potter, we all know you’ll answer incorrectly so I’ll save you the embarrassment, he stated, “It makes people tell the truth”

Severus decided that for his birthday he would ask Minerva for a stuffed Potter, preferably dressed in a frilly pink smock and little black Mary-Janes. He would tie him to the Great Hall’s roof, and laugh in joyous and mocking glee, whilst Draco would fall at his feet and praise his Godfather, thanking him for ridding him of his worst enemy. Mwahaha...

“Very good, Mr. Potter, although I’m sure a more detailed answer could be given. No matter.” Severus turned around, making sure his robes billowed as he did so, and plucked up the bottle. He turned back around, and holding it between his thumb and forefinger he waved it gently, allowing the class to get a good look at it.

“Now, am I going to need to cast Silencio on you all, or can I trust you to not embarrass Mr. Malfoy here?” He asked, ignoring Draco’s scoff. Things may have been getting better for the boy, but Severus still didn’t trust any of the children in the room. Draco hadn’t suffered any more random hexes, not as many sneers, and he had even managed to get himself a set of new body guards - Crabbe and Goyle having been sent to prison, because apparently they had killed several small children, and one stray kitten (Severus was sure that that was the main reason they had been sent). Heck, even Potter had been nice to him, what with the incident of last week when Draco had tripped on the last stair and fallen forward, only to be caught in the strong arms of Potter. They had stared at each other for a long moment, and half the school had watched as Potter said something, causing Draco to scowl and flush pink. Draco had thanked him non-the-less, and had skittered off, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott trailing after him.

Granger scowled, and spat, “Really, sir, we’re in seventh year, been through a war and most of us have lost family members” – a harsh intake of breath from several students – “For Merlin’s sake, I’m sure you can at least trust us with Malfoy and Veritaserum”

Severus had to internally give her points for trying, he really did. You poor, delusional little Muggle-born. It’s okay. Uncle Severus will show you the true ways of Purebloods, and prove to you that they’re all pompous pricks... did I just call myself Uncle Severus?

But there was the fact that Weasley was still Weasley and most Weasleys were known idiots, and he hadn’t seemed to realise that Draco wasn’t going to hurt anyone because he didn’t want to end like his father, whom he had visited with Narcissa once because they needed his signature for the money transfer. Lucius had been back in Azkaban for around a month by then, and already he had taken to wearing his hair up – Severus would never know where he got the white satin scrunchie – and had somehow managed to get one of the guards to buy him neon-pink nail polish. And while Draco had later said that the shade quite complimented his father’s complexion, he wouldn’t wear it himself, because he a little paler than Lucius, and honestly Sev, the blue would look much better. Thus he didn’t wish to go to Azkaban, Prison of Pink.

“Yes, but Ms. Granger, you see, I know your kind... and Weasley’s, having been forced to spend far too much time in their... redheaded vicinity. The point is that I shall cast Silencio on Mr. Weasley, and if I can’t any other trouble from you lot, detention with Filch for a month, and you will lose 50 house points. No one is to use this demonstration for their own personal revenge, understand?” He used the Big Bag Glare Of Severus Snape But Not As Big Or Bad As Drakon Lucius Alexis Adrian Adrastos Malfoy’s (named by said Drakon Lucius Alexis Adrian Adrastos Malfoy at age four and a whole half, Uncle Sev) on the students as well, cackling slightly at the cowed look on their faces.

Draco just gave him that Look he’d been giving Severus since he was twelve and first learned what having sex truly meant. It was usually accompanied by a long winded speech of, ‘Sev, if you just let me have a go at your hair and let me use some rouge on you, you’d be one of the most wanted men in Hogwarts!’

Severus hated those speeches with a passion, so as a subtle warning he shoved the truth serum at Draco, who swallowed the required amount, grimacing. Severus then cast Silencio on Weasley, and turned to Draco.

“Right, let’s get started. Draco, state your name” Severus asked. Draco wrinkled his nose, and muttered, “Drakon Lucius Alexis Adrian Adrastos Malfoy, Heir of Malfoy and Scion of Malfoy and Black”

“Good. What’s your sexual orientation?” That was for revenge. Severus could still smell the putrid scent of vanilla that had remained in his bathroom a week after Draco had attempted to swap his shampoo.

“Severus! And...I like men...”

Mwahaha...

Soon they had been at it for fifteen minutes, and Severus had dragged the fact that Draco loved sweet things, hated the colour maroon, had called Lucius ‘Mama’ for the first three years of his life because of his father’s hair, did in fact like Muggle music, hated snake-skin because it chafed like nothing you’ve ever worn, Sev, and Draco had a penchant for big, dominant partners—the latter dragged from him via Pansy Parkinson, who had been promptly Silencio’d, lost her 10 points (because she was Slytherin and one of Draco’s closet friend’s) and was due for detention with him that night.

The lesson itself was almost over, and Severus had just grabbed the antidote to the potion when Hermione Granger suddenly jumped up. Her eyes were wide, and beside her said silenced Pansy Parkinson was smirking at Draco in the most horrible way Severus had ever seen.

“Wait! Um... Malfoy, do you like Harry?”

Draco went pale, his body went rigid, and he shot Parkinson one of the coldest, angriest ‘I’m-going-to-fucking-hex-your-boobs-away-you-bitch’ look, before choking out, “... yes.”

The class fell silent, all staring at Draco in shock, save Parkinson who was looking kind of sad and proud and happy at the same time. Potter, though, looked a little green. And then Granger made it worse, because Parkinson was quite forcefully driving her elbow into the Muggle-born’s ribs, by saying, “Do you love him?”

Draco looked about ready to cry.

This was understandable.

“Yes.”

Draco was then gone, running from the room, leaving Severus with a class full of shell shocked teens, a smug looking Parkinson, a worried looking Granger, a fainted Weasley, and...oh, and there went Potter.

Severus frowned as Potter’s robe fluttered as he disappeared out the door.