You Know You Are Loved When A Gryffindor Loves You

21

Breakfast time at Hogwarts: The owls came swooping in with the daily mail. Three large school owls deposited parcels in front of Ron, Hermione and Ginny sitting together at the Gryffindor table as well as a postcard. They squealed with glee ripping off the wrappings, the girls shaking out a magnificent Spanish shawl apiece. Hermione’s was black, covered in fine embroidery of many colours depicting birds of paradise and many exotic flowers. Ginny’s was a deep green embroidered in shades of yellows and golds with a large tree of life in the middle surrounded by more exotic birds. Ron unwrapped a matador’s shirt in black silk embroidered with abstract designs in silver around the collar, cuffs and down the front placket. Ginny summed it up when she breathed, “These are beautiful”. There were no labels attached so Hermione picked up the postcard, “Having a wonderful time, hope your prezzies reach you okay. The weather and the places all beautiful and am seeing Art that I’ve wanted to see for years. I sat for two whole seconds on the Mae West sofa. Am in heaven”, was inscribed in blue biro. A black ink coda, “Myself also, but more from the companionship of my beloved than anything else although Spain is a truly beautiful country, and yes, Ms G. I am taking care of my husband. Regards to all”, there were no signatures.

Breakfast was finishing and students were filing out to begin morning school. Draco sauntered over to the Gryffindor table, “Hmm, what have we here then?” Ron showed him the shirt and Draco handled the silk and the embroidery with delicate fingers, then his eye strayed to the postcard and he picked it up scanning the words then realisation hit him with the force of a bludger to the chest. “That’s Potter’s scrawl”, then he recognised the black cramped hand beneath, “NO!! Husband?!! What the fuck?!”, he threw down the card and without a backwards glance stormed from the Hall.

Ginny was confused, “How...?”, she began then Hermione’s eyes widened, “Shit!! He’s recognised Snape’s handwriting. Quick, Ron, we need to speak to Dumbledore or McGonagall RIGHT NOW. Come on, we’ve got Transfiguration first thing. RUN!!” They hot-footed it through the halls and corridors. Minerva was already seated in the room and they were the first to arrive running the length of the room to her desk and showed her the card, “Malfoy saw it, Professor. He recognised the writing of both of them”. She looked up at the scared faces and her lips thinned, “Then we must find Mr Malfoy quickly. Ron, do you know what class he has this morning?” Ron tried to still his thoughts enough to think, “Potions, no, Arithmancy this morning, but he could be fire-calling his father right this minute. Oh God, they’re fucked. Please do something Minerva?” She glared at him over her spectacles, “Language, Mr Weasley. And I am still Professor in school”, he backed down, chastened, “Sorry Professor. I panicked”.

She rose quickly and tapped a piece of parchment with her wand and the lesson plan was on the blackboard in an instant. “Hermione, maintain order in my absence. I will ascertain the whereabouts of Mr Malfoy and do what damage control I can”. She whirled away to her private office to firecall the Headmaster who instantly sent a detection charm all around the castle and another to prevent new fires being lit. “I think that you will find him in the old Charms classroom, Minerva. I prevented him from lighting a calling fire so he will shortly look for another venue, your need for speed is great. I rather suspect that he will make his way to the Owlery for want of a better communication medium once he realises that none of the fires will obey him. Might I ask what this is all about?”. Minerva sighed, “It would appear that Severus and Harry sent an unsigned postcard with their presents to Ron, Hermione and Ginny and young Master Malfoy recognised the handwriting of both of them, plus Severus made a comment about ‘his husband’, and Master Malfoy ran away”.

Minerva dashed away calling for Ron to follow her, “Ron, has Draco been acting oddly about his godfather?” Ron nodded, “Yeah. I know he misses him greatly although I think there’s something else going on”. Minerva’s lips thinned, “Indeed”, she said dryly as they ran through the school. As predicted, Draco was on his knees on the dusty floor in the old Charms classroom desperately trying to get the fire to light with his wand and making no headway whatsoever. Ron rushed over to his lover’s side and tried to hold him but Draco shoved him away with a snarl, “Why did no-one tell me, Weasley? They’re fucking together, aren’t they? They’re fuckin’ married? Why else would they both write on the same fucking postcard. I need to speak with my father”, as Minerva came into the room, “There’s no need for insolence or bad language Mr Malfoy, twenty points from Slytherin”. Draco fumed but subsided upon catching sight of Professor McGonagall, “I’ve sent him letters through that pathetic bloody house-elf but he never replies. I’m frightened for him. I know others speak to Potter so why won’t Severus write to me? Damnit, I’ve known the man all my life, so why all the secrecy? And what’s all this about his ‘husband’?”

Minerva tried to comfort the distraught Slytherin but got nowhere. With a wave of her wand she ‘obliviated’ his memory of the card instead and sent both boys to their classes with a ‘tut’ of impatience. She passed them in a disused corridor, Draco howling on Ron’s shoulder and Ron offering what clumsy comfort he could, and winked at Ron as she passed. When her classes finished, she sat down at her desk and wrote a pithy strongly-worded letter to her colleague,

Severus,

You need to reply to various missives that I believe you have received from your godson. He is understandably distressed as to your whereabouts and I understand he has been in touch with his father trying to gain information that may pertain to plots against you from ‘that’ quarter. You need to write to him, if for no other reason than to let him know you are safe and well. It would seem as if his feelings for you are somewhat heated, but this is only exacerbated by your lack of a reply to the boy and as a result, he is prying into areas not for his eyes. He could endanger you. He has already tried to threaten and compromise Dobby. You need to bring your calming influence to bear and write back to him. Please give this some thought. I hope your honeymoon went well, but I must ask both of you not to communicate in so open a fashion as a postcard as Draco recognised your writing even though the missive was unsigned. This is what has caused the contretemps of today that has had us running all over the school and shutting all the comms fires before he could send word to his Father that he is convinced that you and Harry are together when I am sure you are aware that we have informed the School that you are in separate locations. I ask that you give this matter your urgent consideration,.

I remain, your friend and colleague,

Minerva McGonagall.

****

Harry read the letter that Severus passed to him. Severus sighed, “I don’t know how to answer him. It’s as if he wants to swear undying love for me or something”. Harry finished reading and threaded his arms around the love of his life, “Surely Draco can’t be the first student whose crush you have had to deflect before now?” Severus’ eyes were clouded, “As a matter of fact he is. The only other student who has pursued me is now my spouse and I do have the slight matter of the fact that the lad has a direct link to Voldemort via his father to consider. This will not be easy. I am not in the habit of letting people down gently as you know”. Harry rolled his eyes, “So, don’t be gentle then, it’s probably the last thing he expects anyway. We were berks to send a postcard though, that’s a rap on the knuckles for both of us”, he bent down to kiss his beloved behind the ear, “Go on, I’ll leave you in peace to write your letter and I’ll go and start dinner”, he left his husband in the study and went downstairs. It was with a heavy heart that Severus pulled parchment and pen towards him and started to write.

When Harry came up to tell his spouse that dinner was ready, he found his lover with his head in his hands, several scrunched up bits of parchment littered the floor around him. Harry sighed, “Not going so well then?” Severus looked up then pointed to individual parchment balls, “That one is too formal, I’ve known Draco since birth, that one I tell him that I love him but more like a son, this one”, he nudged a piece with his toe, “Leaves avenues open and I don’t want to encourage him. Bloody hell, Harry, I didn’t realise this could be quite so difficult. I’m tempted to tell him that he’s miles too late, I’m in love, married, with two children on the way and have the missive self-destruct, then run like hell to Alaska or somewhere”. Harry smiled, “Come and eat, it’s getting cold”.

They spent the evening in front of an old weepie film alternatively sniffling at the schmaltz and laughing at the bad acting and had an early night. Harry studied his lover’s changing shape as he undressed, he definitely was showing now. Dressed, he looked like he was getting a bit of a paunch, but naked his belly had a pot-roundness to it that Harry stroked and kissed regularly whether making love to his man or talking to his son. Severus was asleep first in Harry’s arms and Harry lay awake trying to picture what his children would look like and smiled, no platinum blondes in this family!

In the end it was quite simple,

Dear Draco,

You know I have acted in the capacity of guardian to you through school and it disappoints me that you have let ‘feelings’ get the better of you. I feel nothing like those that you have projected onto me and I can only presume that it is our lack of proximity that has led to this absurd outpouring on your behalf.

I am quite safe and well. Although your father may not be privy to plots against me and Potter, I assure you that I have received grave threats to my life from those in the inner circle and am taking them very seriously indeed and until I receive the all-clear I will not be returning to school.

I assure you that attempting to maim/compromise/hurt the House-Elf can only lead to more danger than I am already in, so I suggest that if you feel for me as you purport to do, you had better desist forthwith. I cannot reveal my whereabouts for obvious reasons and I resent your somewhat childish attempts to find me. I am sorry that I may not be your mentor in this, your final year at school, but I have every confidence that you will pass your NEWTs with flying colours.

So, stop acting like a damned Hufflepuff and act like the son of your father for pity’s sake, and when this danger is past we will renew our friendship/mentorship, but until then my hands are tied.

I remain
Your godfather,

Severus Snape

“Oooh, that’s cold”, Harry remarked and his husband shot him a look. Harry backed down and his beloved Summoned the House-Elf to carry the letter back to school. Severus collapsed in Harry’s arms, “Contrary to what you may think, I love my godson very much, but I have to get him over this crush thing. We cannot afford to have him jeopardise everything with petty feelings and jealousies”. Harry had to agree.

****

“I’ve been a twat haven’t I?”, sniffled Draco into Ron’s broad shoulder. Ron stayed strong and silent and held his lover close carding a hand through the blond hair, “Sshh, you know Snape can be a git. I dunno why you ever had a crush on him”. Draco wiped his eyes and smiled at his boyfriend, “I think I just miss him, the snarky old bastard, that voice he has when he’s not being a git, you know?” Ron hid his red face by kissing Draco’s hair remembering the hug and the ‘voice’, “Dunno about that, he’s only ever been a git anywhere near me”. Draco snorted, “Well, that’s because you’re a Gryffindor and a Weasley to boot. I think he saves his better side for his own House”.

Ron hid another grin, a mental image of Harry’s face reddening at his wedding as Severus murmured into his ear coming to mind. “C’mon, Draco, fancy a shag? I believe we would have the Prefect’s bathroom all to ourselves for the next hour, whaddya say, chibi Dragon?” Draco cast him an odd look, “What’s with the ‘chibi’?” Ron snorted, “You call yourself cultured? Chibi means ‘little’ but in the affectionate sense. It’s Japanese, don’t you know?” Draco grinned then, “And here was I thinking you possessed not an ounce of culture and you know Japanese. Okay, I’m officially impressed. The prefect’s bathroom it is then”, and the two boys headed off, their arms around each other.

Crisis averted.