The Iridescent Conclusion

The morning dawned pale and misty, watery sunlight pushing through a gap in the curtains to touch on Remus’ head. He stirred, sighed and woke, blinking in the soft spotlight and then shifting a little. It was then that he realised that he was alone in this wide bed.

There was no sleeping man, long black hair tousled and sexy. No Sirius with a sleepy smile and a soft, warm kiss. Instead, there was a space and, feeling it with the palm of his hand, Remus found that it was quite cold. Sirius, wherever he was, had risen a good while ago.

Pulling on a robe and pushing a hand through his hair, Remus opened the bedroom door and crept quietly along the landing before heading downstairs. It was still quite early and he had no intention of waking Oscar.

Sirius, when he found him, was in the living room. His bare feet were tucked underneath him and a long cold cup of coffee was on the floor beside the sofa. He was staring at nothing, grey eyes pained and attention fixed, without doubt, on thoughts of his beloved godson.

“Siri,” Remus murmured, stepping in, “this isn’t doing you any good at all.”

There was no point in asking what was wrong. The answer to that was obvious. Harry was still missing, they still had no clue as to his whereabouts – or even if he still lived – and Lucius Malfoy, despite having made an apparent about-turn, professed to know nothing of the young man’s fate.

“I don’t care what Albus says,” Sirius began, his voice croaky and metallic with disuse, “I can’t bring myself to trust anything that Lucius Malfoy says or does. Why would he turn blood-traitor now? What’s in it for him?”

Remus frowned and stifled a yawn as he took the seat beside his partner. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “All I can say is that we have to trust Albus. You, yourself, proved that he isn’t under Imperius.”

“That spell isn’t infallible,” Sirius shook his head. “I should have used -”

“No.” Remus cut him off abruptly, “No, Siri, we don’t use Dark magic unless we have no choice.” He looked then at Sirius, meeting the man’s astounded stare. “Don’t look at me like that; you know what I’m talking about. Dark magic is for extreme emergencies only: when you’ve lost your wand or your opponent -”

“- is already using Dark magic.” Sirius finished. “Yes, Moony, I went to Auror College too.”

Remus fell silent for a minute and then took his partner’s hand and squeezed it a little in apology.

“We’ll find him.” He stated firmly. “Don’t forget how strong, how powerful he is. Remember, this is the young man who was contemplating throwing a Soto Suasoria spell at you.”

Sirius grunted once in grudging response. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard him.” He shook his head, remembering, “To think that Harry – Harry! – should know so much Dark magic!”

“I know,” Remus caressed Sirius’ hand with his thumb, “but in this instance, be glad that he has. And be glad that he has Severus with him. Whilst we might choose another…companion…for him,” Remus added, speaking carefully, “Harry trusts Severus and Severus…”

“I get it,” Sirius nodded wearily, “I really do. Snape thinks more of Harry than we credited him. But, Remus, I wish…” he halted, floundering for the words to fit his feelings. Finally, with some difficulty, he tried again. “I wish that I’d stayed at Hogwarts, that night. If I’d brought Harry back here with me, if he hadn’t insisted on going to see Snape and Draco…”

“Siri, thinking like that is no good.” Remus told him firmly. “Harry adores Draco, he was worried sick – of course he was! And nothing you said or did would change his mind!”

The door creaked open at that point and Jenna, followed by Alison, came into the room and sat down opposite the two men. Wrapped in warm dressing gowns and slippers, the two women looked as if they’d been awake for quite some time.

“We were talking,” Jenna explained, “and then we heard you get up so we thought we’d come and talk to you. Is that okay?”

Sirius shrugged with seeming indifference but Remus nodded with a smile that lit his tired eyes.

“Following Albus’…revelation… yesterday,” Alison said then, “I started thinking about what might have caused Lucius to switch sides.”

“Assuming he really has switched,” Sirius muttered.

Jenna gave him a long look, glanced down at his cold mug of coffee and promptly stood to go and put the kettle on to boil again for all of them.

“We kind of need to act as if he really has,” Alison said hesitantly then. “Lucius has convinced Albus and we all know that Albus is nobody’s fool. If he genuinely believes Lucius, then so must we. Anyway,” she went on, taking a deep breath, “I was saying to Jenna that there’s one very big reason for Lucius to switch sides.”

The two men stared at her for a long moment and in that time, Jenna reappeared in the doorway and exchanged a long look with her former sister-in-law.

“You’re kidding!” Remus exclaimed then, catching on. “Daniel?”

“What?” Sirius frowned, “Are you saying that, after a long life of crimes in the name of pure-blood domination, Lucius would throw it all away for your brother?”

Alison shrugged. “Daniel said he loved him,” she said with a little shake of her head.

“Alison, I’m sorry,” Remus began regretfully, “but after all that he’s done, I find it a little hard to believe that Lucius can love anyone.”

“Well,” Jenna shrugged and came back into the room, “whatever the reason, he’s apparently switched sides. Personally, I think Alison’s right. If Lucius is to be believed, then it must have been something pretty powerful to pull him around like this.”

Without waiting for a response, she then headed back out to the kitchen and began to prepare some tea and toast for them.

*~*~*

“As I’m sure I’ve said at least once before,” Severus began as he finished the complicated runes on the floor, “is there anything either of you need to say or do, before we begin?”

They were in a clear, empty room; warded on the outside and currently guarded by Sirius and three of his high-ranking cadets.

“Yes,” Harry replied softly and crossed the room to kiss first Draco and then Sev. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“You are very welcome,” Severus replied in an equally soft voice. His gaze met Draco’s then and he nodded in silent acknowledgement.

When they were each on their respective runic knot, he spoke again.

“I’ve given you both a copy of the Nameless spell in full. Yes, Draco, I know that you’ve memorised the spell; humour me.”

Recalling the man asking him to humour him just the night before, Harry ducked his head to conceal a smile and glanced at the parchment in his hand.

“If there’s nothing else, let’s begin.” Severus announced and cleared his throat as he drew himself up to his full height. “Ashe Lan Y Eron! Vor krasso pa mieren.”

The jolt was less shocking this time, Harry found. It was still disconcerting to feel his magic pouring away into the centre of the runes, but he bore it well and kept pace with Severus as he continued to cast.

“Mia treden, fre sarden et yarren vo eben. Nereim ap ossark röv, nore y nal esha!”

Struggling then to keep his footing as the magical energy flooded back into him with a surge, Harry duly read the second part, aware of Severus and Draco speaking alongside him. “Sez haria. Col torron, y vro treden, sarden et eben. Cia tre garedin; via nal fuordon. Sten duae hyssaa.”

And then, together, they whispered: “Laas vensis, vror trenda. Miat derra, lya veren bri stora.”

“Aan ora uoria,” Severus continued, speaking alone and starting the third and final part. He spoke softly, as if beseeching of the magic itself.

“Yeno halmiire. Piat tredor.”

‘Laas vensis, vror trenda.’ Draco added then.

And finally it was down to Harry to complete the spell. The air around him seemed to thrum and vibrate with each breath and he fancied that he could feel Sev and Draco’s breaths in his own chest.

“Miat derra,” he commanded, “lya verren bri stora!”

“By our will,” Sev whispered, translating, “we are one!”

Silence, thick, heavy and tangible, rolled over them. The magic was here; the air almost shimmered with it…and then, as they drew in a collective breath, the magic was taken in, absorbed…and the air was suddenly clear once more.

Harry blinked, wondering if the spell had worked. He didn’t feel any different…or at least, he didn’t think he felt any different. His thoughts appeared to be his own, there were no echo of other thoughts – nothing that he had imagined. Instead, apart from feeling a little tired and hungry, he had just a lingering sense of uncertainty. And even that seemed to be fading. Right now, he was just wondering if there might be chocolate trifle for pudding today…

He turned slightly then and looked speculatively at Draco.

‘Um…’ he began silently with a slight frown, ‘I’m not complaining but I have to say that I’ve never been into chocolate trifle in the same way that you are.’

Draco smirked at him in response and then yawned unexpectedly. Across the room, Sev shrugged elegantly.

‘All right for you two,’ he said, ‘but Harry slept like a baby, draped mostly over me, for most of the night and then,’ he added, ‘while you two were lazing about in the bath, this morning, I was the one to come down here to prepare this room. Don’t blame me just because I’m tired.’

‘We’re not blaming you,’ Harry soothed, stepping slowly towards him. ‘It’ll just take some getting used to. You’re tired, therefore we’re tired. Draco fancies chocolate trifle -’

‘Therefore we all fancy chocolate trifle.’ Sev nodded, ‘Even though I’ve never really shared his love of sweet foods!’

‘Get used to it!’ Draco told him unrepentantly with a grin. The two of them then looked expectantly at Harry and smiled.

‘What?’ Harry demanded with the merest hint of a smile as he looked suspiciously from one to the other.

‘Personally, I’m amazed,’ Severus said archly with a smirk. ‘After that memorable session with Draco, last night, you’re really ready to take us both to bed?’

“I…” Harry floundered, speaking aloud for the first time since the completion of the spell. The sound jolted him and he flushed a little. He hadn’t even really realised that he’d been thinking of Sev and Draco in bed. Now, though…

“I think we should have breakfast first,” Severus suggested with an affectionate smile. He turned then and fixed Draco with a hard stare, “And, no, I don’t think I really fancy chocolate trifle instead of toast and eggs.” He added.

*~*~*

Rain ran freely down the kitchen windowpanes and drip-dripped somewhere outside; perhaps from the guttering. Inside the kitchen, Daniel sat at the cluttered wooden table with a mug of tea between his hands and a bottle of whisky within easy reach. With each sip of tea, he added another splash of whisky. Soon, some distant voice reasoned, he would probably have more whisky in his mug than tea…but that was all right. There was no one here in Thomas’ old house to lecture him about drinking at nine in the morning, was there?

Shaking his head very slightly, Daniel took another sip and poured another splash as he listened to the gentle sound of the rain. He imagined that he could hear the raindrops splashing on the leaves of the trees in the woods or the soft patter as it hit the rich, loamy soil. Perhaps he could; there were no other sounds, after all.

After a while, when his mug held almost pure whisky, a very soft, distant crack sounded from beyond the front door and it instinctively drew Daniel’s head around even though the whisky had dulled most of his senses. Therefore, it was with only a small amount of surprise when he felt a presence against the wards.

He knew that magical signature. Could almost smell the man’s cologne.

“Daniel?” Lucius’ voice called plaintively.

Daniel ignored it and topped up his strong tea-whisky concoction.

“Daniel, either lift the wards or I’ll break them myself!” Lucius stated with a heat that suggested that he was irritated. Daniel couldn’t think why the man should be irritated; surely only he, Daniel, had the right to feel aggrieved. After all, it had been Lucius that had lied, Lucius that was the foul and loathsome Death Eater. What right…what right did he have…

Daniel lost the thread of his thoughts and took another mouthful of drink.

“Daniel?” Lucius called again.

Daniel snarled into his mug and rounded his shoulders against the intrusion. Why couldn’t people leave him alone? What were they doing, calling at – he peered at the kitchen clock – nearly ten in the evening?

There was then the very distinctive, almost painful tug of someone dismantling his wards and it was this that finally drew him to his feet. The chair scraped noisily against the flagstones and Daniel swayed in his spot for a moment before stumbling unsteadily out the back door and around the house.

Lucius was standing at the end of the drive, wand in hand, with a look of concentration on his pale, handsome face. The rain had already soaked his robes and tendrils of his very blond hair clung to his forehead and cheekbones.

He paused mid-incantation and stared for a few seconds at Daniel.

“Will you let me in?” he asked quietly.

Daniel frowned and stumbled a step or two sideways as the world gave a small lurch.

“Daniel, I’m just here to talk.” The man continued, “I just want to…to tell you something. It’s important.”

Daniel frowned. It was just so bloody irritating to have people – ex-lovers – calling at all hours…

“It’s very late,” he announced as if that explained everything.

Lucius looked confused, “It’s ten in the morning, baby boy.” He looked speculatively at him then and tilted his head to one side. “And you’re drunk. Did you start drinking this morning or did you fail to stop last night?

“I don’t know!” Daniel retorted irritably. “What kind of,of,of – what kind of a question is that to ask anyone? Lucius, it’s pouring down out here!” he announced then as if only just noticing, “Whatdoyouwant?”

“I want to talk to you. Drop your wards and let me in.”

Daniel scowled and made a short gesture at the wards, accidentally removing them instead of just lowering them. Lucius sighed, stepped forward and then turned to rebuild the wards for the drunken man.

“Let’s go inside,” he muttered and led Daniel back into the kitchen.

“Tea?” Daniel offered when they returned, dripping, to stand in the kitchen. He gestured with his mug and then frowned when Lucius took it away, sniffed at the contents and promptly poured it down the sink.

“Coffee, I think,” Lucius responded smoothly and tapped the kettle with his wand. When nothing happened, he scowled at it in irritation until Daniel stumbled forward.

“It’s muggle,” he explained with a bit of a slur. “You have to put water in it and plug it in.” He demonstrated by managing to get almost as much water over himself and the adjacent work surfaces as in the kettle. Then, with a sarcastic little sneer, he plugged it into the mains and flicked the switch.

“My sister-in-law…” he began and then paused for a moment, “…was a muggle. Only she wasn’t really my sister-in-law but she was going to be and Thomas loved her. And she loved him and he was going to tell her that he was a – was a -”

“Wizard?”

“An’ a werewolf.” Daniel nodded sadly. Two fat tears rolled down his rain-soaked cheeks then. “He was a werewolf but he was my little brother, Lucius, and you had no right to kill ‘im!”

“Baby boy,” Lucius murmured brokenly, “I didn’t kill him. That I promise you.”

Daniel blinked owlishly at him for a minute and then stumbled on the spot, lurching into the table with a solid thud, sending the clutter of assorted days-old crockery to clattering loudly.

“Sit down,” Lucius instructed, not unkindly.

“’M alright,” Daniel mumbled, even as he clung onto a chair back for stability.

“You’re very drunk,” Lucius countered. “I should know; I was in a similar state until recently.”

“I wouldn’, wouldn’ even be drunk if it weren’t…” Daniel started and then lost the track of his statement and faltered into a belligerent silence.

“You wouldn’t be drunk if we hadn’t fought,” Lucius finished for him.

“If you hadn’t lied.” Daniel nodded. He chewed on his lip for another moment and then added, “If you weren’t a Death Eater.”

Lucius sighed, staring at his former partner while the kettle came to a boil and then apparently made a decision. “Here,” he murmured and pulled the chair out of Daniel’s grasp, pulled it away from the table and then, as Daniel swayed dangerously once again, he pushed him down onto it.

“Daniel, I’m sorry for lying to you,” he said then.

Even in his inebriated state, Daniel couldn’t miss the occasion of an apology from the mouth of Lucius Malfoy. He stared for a moment until Lucius flushed slightly and turned to make two mugs of coffee.

“As for being a Death Eater,” he said as he poured water from the kettle, “I have something to tell you.”

Daniel said nothing but sat and watched him.

At length, Lucius ceased stirring the coffee but remained facing the counter as if looking at his former lover while he spoke would be too difficult.

“You want me to join Voldemort’s band of merry men?” Daniel asked, even as Lucius announced, “I’ve decided to switch sides.”

They fell into silence then and Lucius turned to look over his shoulder. “Join the cause?” he stared incredulously. “Baby boy, as if I’d ask that – especially of you.”

But Daniel was shaking his head, trying to make sense through his alcohol-soaked brain. “You’ve done what?” he demanded.

Lucius sighed, brought the mugs of coffee to the table and sat down. He pushed one mug towards Daniel and then took a tentative sip of the hot, dark liquid.

“I went to see Dumbledore,” he said in a very soft voice and then looked at Daniel from beneath pale eyelashes. “I asked him if he would afford me shelter within his Order of the Phoenix.”

Daniel blinked and took a mouthful of coffee. “And what did he say?”

“After a long interview,” Lucius responded, “he denied me membership but,” he hastened to add, as if Daniel would dismiss him out of hand, “he did confirm that he would offer me as much protection as possible.”

The younger man frowned. “So what you’re saying, is that Dumbledore doesn’t trust you. And who can blame him?”

“Daniel…”

“No, Lucius, come on! You’ve been Voldemort’s right hand man for two decades or more; the crimes you’ve probably committed in his name don’t bear thinking about. And what about Thomas, eh? And Oscar? You sit here in my brother’s house and you dare – DARE – to claim that you’re now prepared to work against the evil bastard?”

Suddenly Daniel was on his feet and the kitchen rang with his shouted words. He lurched against the table again and his coffee sloshed slightly but he paid it no mind at all. Instead, he glared down at Lucius.

“You wish me to go,” Lucius said calmly.

“Yeah, I ‘wish you to go’,” Daniel sneered, mimicking the other man. “In fact, I wish you’d go and, and, and never come back! Go back to your mansion, Lucius; go back …to your master, your Death Eater brethren and your acts of bloody…bloody…” his voice faded and he shook his head in disgust.

The older man stood then and gazed sadly into Daniel’s flushed and angry face.

“This isn’t some passing whim.” He stated levelly. “I meant what I said to Dumbledore: I wish to atone for my crimes and I’ll do anything anyone asks of me. I’ll fight for Dumbledore’s Order – even if I can’t be one of them. And all the while, I’ll be fighting for you too, baby boy.”

“You’d do anything?” Daniel asked in a low mutter.

“Yes,” Lucius whispered.

“Good. Then get out.”

To this, Lucius drew himself up to his full, tall and arrogant self and breathed a tense, little sigh through his nose. Without another word, however, he stalked out of the kitchen and almost made it out the door before he heard a sob from behind him. He turned immediately and in just three long strides, had taken Daniel into his arms and held him tightly.

“I’m such a wimp!” Daniel announced, mumbling into the side of Lucius’ neck. “I know I should hate you. I know who you are, what you are.” He drew a long, shuddering breath, “But damn you, damn you….!”

“You know what I was,” Lucius corrected him, his voice thick. “I used to be a Death Eater and I used to follow the Dark Lord. But no more,” he promised and eased Daniel away a little to look into his face. “Now the only man I’ll follow is you. If you’ll let me.” He finished softly.

“I…” Daniel shook his head, overwhelmed.

“I believe that pure-blood families should work to preserve their lineage,” Lucius explained. “I thought once that the Dark Lord was the answer.”

“He’s a monster,” Daniel growled, with the bone-deep knowledge that Voldemort was behind every atrocity, “but you’re not…you’re not.” He blinked and looked down at his shoes, working through the alcohol to determine why he was all wet. Finally he looked up at Lucius again, “Are you?”

“Baby boy,” Lucius pulled him in close again, “I’ve done terrible – terrible! – things. I’ve lost my wife, my son…Merlin, what I’ve done to Draco…but no more. For you, I’ll stop. For you, I’ll fight on Dumbledore’s side.”

“I love you,” Daniel responded, resting his achy head on Lucius’ shoulder.

“And I you.” Lucius replied softly.

*~*~*

Between them, they had eaten enough breakfast to satisfy an army but as no one other than Draco would dream of serving chocolate trifle for breakfast, Severus and Harry were spared this particular craving.

They sat then, discussing the way that the Nameless spell seemed to have shared their memories, their hopes and aspirations for the future as well as the wants and needs of the here and now.

For the most part, there was very little difference for any of them. However, with only a little effort, Harry, for instance, could recall moments from Draco’s childhood as if it was his own.

He recalled growing up in Malfoy Manor, being an unholy terror and refusing to listen to any number of nannies, young and old. In fact, Harry recalled, Draco only really behaved himself for his parents. For his mother, it was out of love but for his father, Draco had swiftly learned to behave or be punished.

By switching his attention across to the older man, Harry picked up Severus’ recollections. Most of the memories from his early childhood were faded and hazy but one or two stood out. More distinct, however, were the memories of his adolescence – perhaps because he himself was still a teenager and these memories seemed most relevant.

He remembered snarling hexes and curses at Sirius Black, exchanging lengthy insults with James Potter and…

…Harry paused, blinking for a moment…

… he saw a bright eyed witch with laughing, green eyes and a quick smile. They were arguing good-naturedly about a Potions assignment and he felt – remembered – Severus’ gentle affection for her.

‘Harry,’ Sev began, aware of what Harry was recalling. But Harry shook his head with a tiny frown and allowed the stream of memories to flow past him.

He saw Col then and found himself reacting to that infectious grin and those wicked eyes in just the same way that Severus had. Col was good to Severus, treated him with love and dazzling, unfailing good humour. He was protective, defending Sev against any who would criticise or treat him with anything less than respect.

‘Hmm…’ Sev murmured pensively and Harry picked up on a change in his mood.

There was something… not quite right here. He paused, no longer actively searching the memories but simply floating in the older man’s subconscious. And then he found it. There was an element of guilt here and attached to that guilt was –

“Lucius?” Harry spoke aloud in surprise. He opened his eyes and stared at Severus, aware of Draco frowning down at the table. Whatever this was about, Draco had clearly caught on faster than Harry.

“Lucius Malfoy?” A new voice enquired suddenly and Harry turned smartly to see this reality’s version of Ron stood behind him.

He was starting to think of something to say, expecting Ron to hurl more angry diatribe at them for the crimes committed by Draco’s father. However, the boys clustered around Ron wore expressions of sincere admiration.

“Er…you know Lucius Malfoy?” Harry ventured cautiously.

Ron shifted briefly, looking uncomfortable, and then nodded. “I knew him,” he replied. “He used to teach here. He taught my older brothers. He -”

“Lucius Malfoy taught at Hogwarts?” Harry stared at him incredulously. “You mean he was on our side?”

“He died, defending Hogwarts. He cast the shield over the castle, ended a three month siege and took the combined spell blasts that were meant for Dumbledore.” A tall, olive-skinned young man interjected.

“And don’t sound so surprised,” Hermione added sharply as she stepped forward to Ron’s side.

“Yeah.” Ron nodded, looking pleased that Hermione was backing him up. “After all, according to you, his son and his former lover work for our side.”

“Different realities, though, I guess.” Hermione sniffed with a little toss of her head.

Harry, though, was suddenly staring at Severus again. The missing piece had suddenly fit into place and the reason for Sev’s guilt was now obvious: Lucius had been his lover in their reality too. What was more, he’d slept with Lucius whilst going out with Col.

He recalled the feel, the heady sensation of lust and desire, the thrill of risking discovery. And running beneath it was the feeling that he was free, that this was okay, that it served Col right for being too possessive, too domineering, too -

Abruptly, Severus stood up, his face dark and troubled. The little cluster of cadets behind Harry drew back in collective surprise and Hermione even paled and began to utter an urgent apology.

“I didn’t mean…I wasn’t suggesting…” she started but Severus cut her off with a glance.

“Sev,” Harry looked up at him and then spoke silently, ‘Don’t go. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried, I shouldn’t have -’

Without looking at him, Severus sighed and slowly, gingerly, sat down again.

‘This is going to take some getting used to.’ Draco commented, looking warily at his guardian and then meeting Harry’s eyes. There was a sense of pain draped around the blond man’s shoulders and Harry realised that the news of his alternative father dying a hero’s death had hit him hard.

“Is there a problem?” Sirius’ voice cut in then, drawing their attention. Perhaps because he’d seen Severus stand so abruptly and, with the little crowd of cadets, he therefore thought that he should intervene.

“No problem,” Sev responded smoothly with a polite smile. It failed to reach his eyes but Harry doubted if anyone but he and Draco would notice such a thing.

“Oh.” Sirius looked surprised. He floundered for just a second and then looked at the assembled cadets. “Ron, you, Dean and Ashley should be in the Potions lab by now. I suggest you hurry.”

“Sir,” Ron bowed his head once and headed out.

The others soon moved as well, some following Ron while others went their own way. At length, Hermione offered an apologetic smile and hurried out too.

‘Severus,’ Harry said then, once they were alone again, ‘I really am sorry for…well,’

‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ Severus replied as he folded his hands upon the table. ‘You didn’t pry, you have every reason to be curious. I…” he tilted his head thoughtfully, ‘I was just a little taken aback by the memories that you stirred.’

Harry nodded, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. He looked then at Draco and raised his eyebrows. ‘You knew?’

Draco shrugged elegantly. ‘I knew that there was more than friendship between Sev and Lucius. The news that my father could be anything other than a cold-hearted, malevolent bastard is a little astounding, though.’

‘Draco,’ Severus sighed wearily.

There was a lengthy, slightly awkward pause and Harry shared Draco’s opinion that this would take some adjusting to.

“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered and stood up. A moment later, Sev and Draco copied and they filed out of the Great Hall together.

There was no discussion or even question of where they would go. They needed time to get used to this; time and space and a little peace.

An observer (and there were a few) would note that they walked perfectly in step, even though it was unintentional. When someone was heading towards them, all three men would react, stepping clear to allow the other person to pass. At one point, just before they reached their shared quarters, a cadet behind them dropped a stack of books and all three of them reacted in exactly the same way. They started, as one, snapped their heads over their shoulders and gave the startle cadet a swift glare that was unmistakeably Snape-ish.

Once inside their quarters, they moved with single-minded determination to Severus’ bedroom and then towards his iron-framed bed. Here, they stripped before sliding beneath the covers. And only then did they find the peace and quiet to consider what they had done and what their lives would consist of from now on.

‘I didn’t realise it would be like this,’ Draco announced, voicing Sev and Harry’s opinion with his own.

‘I thought it would be more like it was before,’ Harry nodded. ‘Hearing one another’s thoughts and feeling the emotions but…’ he shrugged, ‘…more so.”

‘And yet it’s not really as disconcerting to have you share all my thoughts as I thought it might be.’ Severus concluded. ‘There’s no violation, no trespass…’ he paused then, thinking of what Harry had recently learned about him. ‘There is a modicum of humiliation, though.’ He conceded.

Harry was about to apologise again, to promise that he’d stay out of Sev’s memories but the Potions master shook his head.

“We entered into this willingly, with eyes wide open, knowing that our deepest, darkest secrets would be laid bare. I’ll get used to it.”

He lay on the left side of the bed with his head resting on his arm as he regarded his partners. Draco lay beside him, staring up at the ceiling, and Harry occupied the right side of the bed.

Without any further words, Severus leaned down at that point and kissed Draco on the lips. Their mouths opened and their eyes closed, even as their hands reached out to touch and caress. Between the three of them was Severus’ memory of kissing Draco months ago; the kisses growing in confidence and Draco’s eager, insistent roll of the hips, pressing against Severus with undeniable desire.

With a soft moan, Harry rolled over and pressed in close to Draco’s other side. He placed one leg over the blond man’s thigh and slid it downwards in a delicious caress that caused Draco to part his legs involuntarily in response. With a lingering stroke of his hand across Draco’s abdomen, he realised that they were evidently going to leave this topic for now and focus on his wishes from earlier that morning.

‘Are you too tired?’ Draco asked Severus, quite unnecessarily, mid-kiss. After all, even if he didn’t know within his own mind that Sev shared his desires, the erection currently pressing into his thigh gave him a physical and very substantial clue.

In response, Severus moved his right hand. He skimmed it downwards, between Draco’s side and Harry’s stomach, brushed teasingly towards Harry’s cock (with a wicked glint in his oh-so-dark eyes as he gazed intently at Harry whilst continuing to kiss Draco) and then drew his hand over Draco’s smooth, white hip. He drew back from the kiss, smirked evilly at Harry and then drew his fingers across in a shivery caress to take hold of Draco’s cock. The blond youth exhaled at the touch and rolled over a little, pressing close and pushing up into that hold.

‘Bastard,’ Harry silently mock-scolded the Potions master with dark amusement. He took advantage then and rolled too to fit snugly against Draco’s back; their legs still entangled. He drew his hand back from where it had rested on Draco’s stomach and smoothed it back and down, over the gentle swell of his backside. From there, he pressed his hand between Draco’s thighs and reached forward to touch and stroke his lover’s balls.

‘Gods,’ Draco murmured, drunk on sensation. He shivered again between his two lovers and breathed a silent moan between kisses.

“Definitely not too tired,” Severus noted dryly in his darkest, sexiest growl and rolled then, moving onto his back and bringing Draco with him.

There was a silent whimper from the blond man at the loss of Harry’s touch but he settled quickly; sealing his mouth to Severus’. With his knees either side of the older man’s body, he pressed himself chest to chest and rained yet more kisses over his throat and shoulders. Occasionally, he bit with small, white, even teeth that drew gasps and soft curses from Severus’ throat.

“Here,” Harry said, reaching for his wand. Bringing Draco upright for a moment, he then aimed it at Severus and summoned a substantial quantity of slick, silky liquid. It coated Sev’s torso with a gleaming pearlescent sheen and for just a second, Sev frowned at Harry in perplexity.

A moment later, however, and Draco caught up with Harry’s intention and lay down once more. At once, he slid, slippery and sensuous, and the sensation drew a gasp from both ward and guardian. With the liquid acting as a generous lubricant, Draco slid back and forth, rubbing himself against Severus’ stomach.

Severus, meanwhile, claimed the younger man’s mouth again and kissed with such depth and intensity that Harry too could almost feel the slide of the man’s tongue.

It was hard to describe the feelings and sensations in their lovemaking. What one felt, all three felt and it very soon reached a point where each of them was panting with the shared passion.

While Draco was busy sliding over Sev’s stomach and chest, Harry moved to straddle the Potion master’s thighs. There, he fisted Severus’ cock and began to prepare Draco for penetration. The blond man gasped as one slippery finger inserted him and then groaned within their minds when Harry began to move it, a little at a time. Slowly, he added another finger and then another a few minutes later. Finally, when Harry had him panting and moaning with three fingers, he drew Draco back towards him and guided him down onto Severus.

“Oh dear, sweet Merlin!” Sev swore softly, biting the words off as Draco impaled himself.

There was no sense that this could be wrong; no thought at all for the fact that Draco was Severus’ ward. The working of the Nameless spell in its entirety had replaced such a flimsy familial tie with another that was fiercer, stronger and far, far deeper.

With a cry that only sounded within their minds, Draco threw his head back and rode Severus’ cock with slow, studied strokes.

“Come here,” Sev murmured to Harry and he moved, crawling up the bed to press soft-lipped kisses onto Severus’ mouth. Mid-kiss, he started slightly to feel Draco’s right hand caress with gentle determination down his back and over his arse. And then Severus was taking him in hand, pulling firmly on his cock and so they went on.

Harry realised after a few minutes that Sev was also stroking Draco and the circle, it seemed, was complete. All they had to do now was ride out the dizzying sensations to the blissful, orgasmic conclusion.

*~*~*

“So,” Harry said softly, “definitely no regrets then?”

He lay, sprawled on his back with his head on Sev’s shoulder. Draco lay between them, curled on his side with his face pressed against Harry’s chest. As if drugged by the shared orgasm, he slept sound and peacefully with one hand curled possessively over Harry’s side.

“Regrets?” Severus queried, rousing from where he’d been hovering just above sleep.

“About the Nameless spell, about…” Harry’s voice trailed off. There was, he thought, much that Severus might regret. There was the loss of privacy, to put it mildly; he would never be a singular entity again – or at least, not unless anything happened to himself or Draco. And, for some reason, the pain of their forced break-up, their separation, was drawn to the surface and he shivered helplessly.

“Hey,” the Potions master chided very gently in his dark, rich voice. He rolled over, careful not to disturb Draco and stroked the side of Harry’s face as he looked down into his suddenly over-bright eyes. “I love you.” He said simply. “I’ve been minding you since you were eleven, you know; I’m not about to stop.”

“Eleven?” Harry frowned in consternation, thinking back. “Really?”

“Quirrell,” Sev growled, his tone menacing and Harry jumped a little with the borrowed sense-memory of how Severus had loathed and, in truth, feared the DADA professor possessed by Voldemort’s spirit.

“And then there was Gilderoy Lockhart,” Sev went on, “whom some viewed with fond indulgence, others with embarrassment or disdain and more, I’m sad to say, viewed him with hearts, flowers and tweeting, sodding blue birds.”

Harry smiled up at him, “You didn’t like him, I take it?”

“Me?” Severus snarled, “I was perhaps the only one to see him for the danger that he posed.”

“Danger?” Harry stared. He thought back, considering his memory of the self-absorbed egomaniac that had strutted pompously about the school, sending off autographs and generally making Harry’s life truly cringe-worthy. He recalled too the man that had almost erased his and Ron’s memories in the Chamber of Secrets.

“Hmm,” Sev murmured with a dark look, “he had aspirations to dog your steps, you know. He believed as many still do, that you know the secret of the Dark Lord’s downfall. His plan was to steal that secret and claim it for himself.”

Harry shook his head. “If such a secret existed, he’d be welcome to it. Here, take this knowledge,” he mimed, “and go destroy the evil son of a bitch!”

A momentary glimmer of amusement sparked in the older man’s dark, dark eyes but then it was gone. “No,” he shook his head, “I don’t suppose you relish the thought of actually destroying him, do you?”

“I’ll do it, though,” Harry shrugged. Unwittingly, he disturbed Draco, who rolled over and blinked awake.

‘Hey,’ he murmured drowsily, ‘did I miss anything?’. He rubbed his eyes and then rolled over a little more, bringing his body in smoothly against Sev’s. ‘Round two?’

‘Insatiable brat,’ Severus rebuked with a smirk. He pressed a swift kiss to Draco’s forehead and then got up, heading for the bathroom with just a silent, communicative glance at Harry. It spoke volumes.