A Wizard's Debt
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
42
Views:
39,549
Reviews:
228
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
42
Views:
39,549
Reviews:
228
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Oliver
A/N: I am back for a little while – I have one exam left and then not much to do before the 21st of January, when the next term of uni starts.
As of the wedding night, there were calls for yes and calls for no; and I went with the negative – Draco and Oliver would be mentally and physically exhausted after the events, so I let them be – for that night. I give you a week later.
WARNING: Male/Male sex. Don’t like. Don’t read.
WARNING: hints of torture.
***
Oliver.
Draco slept peacefully in my arms, he always does. It’s as if my arms keep him safe from nightmares, keep him protected from the world. Nothing will take him away from me, or take me away from him. We will probably face danger when we surface from the dark cottage – the Daily Prophet publishes a list of recent weddings, and ours made the front page.
Draco is terrified of what Lucius will say. I’m more terrified of what he’ll do.
But for now we’re safe in this little patch of home where nobody can find us. Both bare beneath the blanket before of the fire, avoiding the soggy bit of the thick rug in front of the hearth.
Its odd that the calm and quiet brings back one of the most awful memories I have:
Draco and I had been together since just before his seventeenth birthday – but not in a sexual sense, he wasn’t an adult legally then.
I vividly remember a broken young man apperating to my flat on his seventeenth birthday; sobbing and in pain. He never told me what they’d done to him, or who they were – but I could guess. I listened to his hissing breath and little cries as I healed his injuries; something you learn to do very quickly as a quidditch player. There were six broken ribs; hideous bruising all over his flawless, pale body; his nose was broken and bleeding… and then I asked him to turn over so I could heal his back.
His back was a mess of torn flesh and purple abrasions, blood trickled from wounds that hadn’t clotted, the ones that had sealed shimmered red-black in the candlelight.
“Oh, Draco. What did they do to you?” I whispered, tears in my eyes as I gently removed the scraps of fabric that had once been his shirt.
“It hurts.” He sobbed, flinching as some of the shirt pulled a clot with it.
“Shhh. I can’t heal this on my own, I need help…” I began moving to floo Saint Mungo’s.
“No! No help!” he screamed hoarsely, his voice breaking as he continued, “If I go for help they’ll do it again – and it will be worse.”
“Well, then I have one option – and I’m not taking no for an answer.” I tossed some floo powder into the fire and spoke with a shockingly clear voice: “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Severus Snape’s office.”
Once Snape arrived, Draco slipped into unconsciousness, weather it was from the pain, the blood loss or through choice, I’ll never know. But that was the first time I truly realised the danger Draco was in; and truly realised I didn’t know what I’d do if I lost him.
That night, Draco clung to me as he slept fitfully. When he’d woken for a good length of time, I’d helped his God Father bathe and dress him in a soft sleep shirt. Once free of the dried blood and grime, I realised his ribs and spine were clearly visible – and from the looks of it he hadn’t had a decent meal for a long time.
“He didn’t do what they told him to do.” Snape offered as an explanation.
“Why didn’t you stop it!” I hissed, not wanting to shout and wake the lad in my arms.
“Because I cannot – I have to fight for both sides in this war, and if I appear to favour the light then there will be nobody to protect him…”
“Yeah, he’s obviously well protected – every well protected student has his back ripped to shreds by a cat-o’-nine-tails and his ribs broken.”
“Take care of him tonight; he has to be back in the school in the morning.” Snape said, kissing Draco’s forehead, “Look after him, Wood. Keep him safe.”
“Safe.” I whispered, tucking Draco more into my body.
“Wha?” Draco said, waking and turning to look at me.
“Shh.” I said, leaning down for a gentle kiss from my sleepy husband.
“Ollie…” Draco moaned quietly, shuffling so our bodies aligned and kissing me with firm tongue strokes; his rapidly hardening length pressing into my stomach.
Slowly I pulled him beneath me, continuing to kiss him as our hands roamed over naked flesh. Reaching onto the hearth, I found the tub of lubricant, dipping my fingers into it before gently pressing against his opening.
“Oooh, its warm. Makes a change.” He chuckled, hissing a little as he stretched to accommodate my fingers.
“Too much?” I asked, holding still.
“No, just a bit tight.” He whispered, eyes closing as I eased in to press against the little gland hidden inside him.
“Mmm… too tight though, I don’t want to hurt you.” I replied, kissing Draco gently as I prepared him, for the fourth time tonight? Is it bad that I can’t remember? Does it make me a bad husband?
There were no more words, or thoughs, for some time; just breathy moans and sensual gasps as I moved my fingers within the tight passage, caressing that spot of pleasure gently before moving away.
“Stop teasing!” he pleaded, grey eyes staring into mine as he slicked my length and pulled my hips to lie in the cradle of his raised and open legs. I entered slowly, watching his face for signs of pain; there were none, only a blissful expression and fluttering eyelids.
“Merlin! Draco!” I cried as we began to move against each other with slow, careful motions.
“Ollie…” Draco whispered, looking up at me with a dazed expression and reaching to hold my hand, our fingers laced together as we rocked and slid against each other.
If I never remember anything else after this night, I’ll remember the flickering flames dancing on Draco’s pale skin; the amber reflection in his eyes as he gazed at me; his gasps as he came, a rush of fluid between our stomachs; the gentle kisses that followed my release…
… and the few tears of joy that leaked from my eyes as he took the hand he held and placed the most gentle of kisses over my wedding ring before drifting into a light, sated sleep.
As of the wedding night, there were calls for yes and calls for no; and I went with the negative – Draco and Oliver would be mentally and physically exhausted after the events, so I let them be – for that night. I give you a week later.
WARNING: Male/Male sex. Don’t like. Don’t read.
WARNING: hints of torture.
***
Oliver.
Draco slept peacefully in my arms, he always does. It’s as if my arms keep him safe from nightmares, keep him protected from the world. Nothing will take him away from me, or take me away from him. We will probably face danger when we surface from the dark cottage – the Daily Prophet publishes a list of recent weddings, and ours made the front page.
Draco is terrified of what Lucius will say. I’m more terrified of what he’ll do.
But for now we’re safe in this little patch of home where nobody can find us. Both bare beneath the blanket before of the fire, avoiding the soggy bit of the thick rug in front of the hearth.
Its odd that the calm and quiet brings back one of the most awful memories I have:
Draco and I had been together since just before his seventeenth birthday – but not in a sexual sense, he wasn’t an adult legally then.
I vividly remember a broken young man apperating to my flat on his seventeenth birthday; sobbing and in pain. He never told me what they’d done to him, or who they were – but I could guess. I listened to his hissing breath and little cries as I healed his injuries; something you learn to do very quickly as a quidditch player. There were six broken ribs; hideous bruising all over his flawless, pale body; his nose was broken and bleeding… and then I asked him to turn over so I could heal his back.
His back was a mess of torn flesh and purple abrasions, blood trickled from wounds that hadn’t clotted, the ones that had sealed shimmered red-black in the candlelight.
“Oh, Draco. What did they do to you?” I whispered, tears in my eyes as I gently removed the scraps of fabric that had once been his shirt.
“It hurts.” He sobbed, flinching as some of the shirt pulled a clot with it.
“Shhh. I can’t heal this on my own, I need help…” I began moving to floo Saint Mungo’s.
“No! No help!” he screamed hoarsely, his voice breaking as he continued, “If I go for help they’ll do it again – and it will be worse.”
“Well, then I have one option – and I’m not taking no for an answer.” I tossed some floo powder into the fire and spoke with a shockingly clear voice: “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Severus Snape’s office.”
Once Snape arrived, Draco slipped into unconsciousness, weather it was from the pain, the blood loss or through choice, I’ll never know. But that was the first time I truly realised the danger Draco was in; and truly realised I didn’t know what I’d do if I lost him.
That night, Draco clung to me as he slept fitfully. When he’d woken for a good length of time, I’d helped his God Father bathe and dress him in a soft sleep shirt. Once free of the dried blood and grime, I realised his ribs and spine were clearly visible – and from the looks of it he hadn’t had a decent meal for a long time.
“He didn’t do what they told him to do.” Snape offered as an explanation.
“Why didn’t you stop it!” I hissed, not wanting to shout and wake the lad in my arms.
“Because I cannot – I have to fight for both sides in this war, and if I appear to favour the light then there will be nobody to protect him…”
“Yeah, he’s obviously well protected – every well protected student has his back ripped to shreds by a cat-o’-nine-tails and his ribs broken.”
“Take care of him tonight; he has to be back in the school in the morning.” Snape said, kissing Draco’s forehead, “Look after him, Wood. Keep him safe.”
“Safe.” I whispered, tucking Draco more into my body.
“Wha?” Draco said, waking and turning to look at me.
“Shh.” I said, leaning down for a gentle kiss from my sleepy husband.
“Ollie…” Draco moaned quietly, shuffling so our bodies aligned and kissing me with firm tongue strokes; his rapidly hardening length pressing into my stomach.
Slowly I pulled him beneath me, continuing to kiss him as our hands roamed over naked flesh. Reaching onto the hearth, I found the tub of lubricant, dipping my fingers into it before gently pressing against his opening.
“Oooh, its warm. Makes a change.” He chuckled, hissing a little as he stretched to accommodate my fingers.
“Too much?” I asked, holding still.
“No, just a bit tight.” He whispered, eyes closing as I eased in to press against the little gland hidden inside him.
“Mmm… too tight though, I don’t want to hurt you.” I replied, kissing Draco gently as I prepared him, for the fourth time tonight? Is it bad that I can’t remember? Does it make me a bad husband?
There were no more words, or thoughs, for some time; just breathy moans and sensual gasps as I moved my fingers within the tight passage, caressing that spot of pleasure gently before moving away.
“Stop teasing!” he pleaded, grey eyes staring into mine as he slicked my length and pulled my hips to lie in the cradle of his raised and open legs. I entered slowly, watching his face for signs of pain; there were none, only a blissful expression and fluttering eyelids.
“Merlin! Draco!” I cried as we began to move against each other with slow, careful motions.
“Ollie…” Draco whispered, looking up at me with a dazed expression and reaching to hold my hand, our fingers laced together as we rocked and slid against each other.
If I never remember anything else after this night, I’ll remember the flickering flames dancing on Draco’s pale skin; the amber reflection in his eyes as he gazed at me; his gasps as he came, a rush of fluid between our stomachs; the gentle kisses that followed my release…
… and the few tears of joy that leaked from my eyes as he took the hand he held and placed the most gentle of kisses over my wedding ring before drifting into a light, sated sleep.