The silence that filled the room, as my godfather Severus Snape and I analysed each other, was, slightly uncomfortable. Lucius was also present, but he seemed unwilling to actually do something about it, actually seeming quite amused at our silent exchange of stares.

It might have been odd for some people that I was only meeting my godfather at the age of seven, but the circumstances surrounding our relationship were quite complicated. He'd been named my godfather by Lucius when Voldemort had still been alive and on his way to victory, suffice to say that was not the case anymore, and they'd seldom had the opportunity to meet up in the years after his fall, the avenue of death eater meetings not being available anymore.

Another problem was the fact that Snape had been proclaimed as a spy from Dumbledore for all to hear, which was a much more glowing recommendation of his innocence than our family's claim of being imperiused. People would have asked questions had we been seen together, Dumbledore's people wondering why their spy was still meeting up with death eaters after Voldemort's fall, and the former death eaters asking why one of theirs was meeting up with a known spy.

I didn't actually know how the situation had changed, why was it acceptable to meet up now, and not before?

“So, do you like potions?” Snape asked stoically, with a rather forced expression on his face. I saw Lucius holding in a laugh in the background.

“I've looked into the subject before, it being one I have actual access to, and I understand the necessity of being knowledgeable in it, family business and all, but I must admit I find myself leaning towards more flashy displays of magic at the moment. Potions are, time-consuming.” I said diplomatically, admitting to finding the subject important, but personally uninteresting. I wanted to test the relationship I had with my godfather. While the man had been ready to swear an unbreakable vow on protecting me in the future, if that had been due to him taking his status as my godfather seriously, or if the other Draco had done something to personally endear himself to the man was up in the air.

Snape raised an eyebrow at my father, probably at my vocabulary, and upon receiving a smug look in return queried further. “Potions do not offer the instant gratification that other magical arts do, that is indeed true, but you just admitted to understanding their importance, and the fact that they are the magical art you have the most access to would make one assume you would develop an interest in it.” He said.

I grinned at him and flourished my hand. “Ah it seems we are communicating under a certain misconception, for it is true that potion making is the art I have the most access to in form of books, it being deemed non-dangerous enough for me to take a peek at, I have a much more direct forms of magic available to me.” I flared my magic above the top of my outstretched palm and created a fireball roughly the size of my head, and started making twist into itself, displaying different shapes, triangle, circle and line culminating into the symbol of the hallows. Then into the Malfoy family crest, a stylised M drawn on a shield stabbed through with spears and beholden between two winding dragons. “One could say, it is, at the palm of my hands.”

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I imagined it was not often that one witnessed Severus Snape gobsmacked, be it from my display of magic or from my sense of humour. Lucius naturally had to ruin it by starting to giggle, raising the trust I had in Snape a notch higher, displays of emotions like that were reserved for family.

My new fold trust in my godfather led me to reveal another reason why I did not overly like potions, that I had held back previously, not wanting to ruin my relationship with the man.

“The problem I have with potions is also the fact that no matter how much work I put into it, I would still purchase most potions I needed, money after all, is used to acquire objects and services so one doesn't have to do everything personally. I do not mean to offend or insinuate anything with this statement, just explaining why it would would be inefficient for me personally to pursue a mastery of the subject.” I ended placatingly.

Snape had lost his surprise at my supreme display of humour halfway through my explanation and seemed to take it, surprisingly well, or maybe I was just garbage at reading the mood, who knew. His next words relaxed me, I had not committed a faux pas.

“You are correct to assume that the art of potion making would be unbeneficial for you, unless you reached such heights that there would be no one left, from whom you could buy the potions you wanted from.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, losing some of his rigid posture.

I waited until he reached out to take a sip of his tea. “We must also consider the distribution of labour, it would be unneeded for me to become a potion master, since no matter the effort I put into it, I would never be capable of surpassing a certain potion master already associated with our family anyway.” The way to a man's heart? Through flattery, even easier if the praise was well earned.

Snape did not in fact spit out his tea as I had intended with my timing, but his hand did tremble a bit and he showed a slight smile upon putting down his cup.

“Careful there Draco,” He said, addressing me by my name for the first time, “if you couple your intelligence with a sufficient competence in my subject when you find your way to Hogwarts, I might actually openly admitting of liking you.” He said teasingly. “A most perilous attempt on your social standing at Hogwarts, I am rather despised after all.” He finished with a smile.

“One should not lower one's competence for the opinion of sheep, but enough about that.” I said, making a waving gesture in the air, as if to dispel the previous conversation. “Finding myself in the presence of a bona fide potions master I cannot help but seek clarification on certain matters. Is it true for example that potions can be considered a ritual instead of a science depending on what school of thought one applies to it? None of my books seem to be capable of agreeing on that particular manner.”

A complicated question with many facets, delving into the very origins of rituals and the effects certain magical ingredients have.

Snape’s lips twitched slightly, one could almost liken it to a grin. If you squinted hard enough of course.