Slytherin Love

Title: Slytherin Love
Pairing: SS/DM, SS/HPD/M
Rating: NC17
Word Count: ~ 27,900
Warnings: threesome (obviously), rimming; ignores most of DH
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: There is a Potter-looking intruder in Draco’s home, and Draco thinks that Severus is a bit too interested in the mystery of the captive’s identity
Author's Notes: Written for Ravenna C. Tan for the hp_summersmut exchange. It was my first time writing slashy threesome smut.


Slytherin Love


The rays of the afternoon sun blink through the high window and streak across the room. They dance over a beige carpet and paint loops of light onto the delicately patterned wallpaper.

At a desk in front of the window, half-shadowed by dark-blue velvet curtains, sits a young man. His blond head is bent low over a leather-bound tome. His right hand holds a quill from a snow-white bird. His left hand rests on one page of the book. There are columns of numbers on each page, and the young man is deeply concentrated on adding them. A slight frown mars his smooth forehead as he pens another number at the end of one column and, with a sigh, turns the page. There are more columns and more numbers.

The young man sighs again and runs a frustrated hand through his hair so that some strands stick up at the back. A moment later, he seems to have noticed what he has done, for he quickly smoothes the silver-blond strands back down.

The quill in his right hand trails down a column but stops in the middle. The young man’s frown deepens. He turns to the side and shuffles a pile of paper, obviously looking for something. He pulls one sheet out of the heap and compares two numbers. With a growl, he suddenly throws the quill down, spattering ink all over the pages of the book.

Leaning back in his high-backed chair, he rubs his tired eyes with the balls of his thumb. He looks exhausted.

Draco turns his head to gaze out of the window at the blue sky. He yearns to be outside, perhaps fly and chase a Snitch. The weather would be perfect. Instead he is trapped inside the Manor and at this desk, doing the accounting.

He isn’t very good at it. No one has ever explained to him exactly how to do it. This had been his father’s task. But these days Draco’s father is barely ever lucid enough. So the task has fallen to Draco. He must now sit inside and struggle with accounting, as well as all the other tasks that come with managing the estate.

He hates it. Not only because these new tasks cut into his time and deprive him of such carefree and childish pleasures as an afternoon spent flying. No, he hates it because his father cannot do this anymore. His father, once so proud and seemingly in control of everything is now only a shadow of his former self, ruined in the service of the wizard who once called Lucius Malfoy his loyal follower.

Draco sneers at the memory. He ruined his father, the Dark Lord did, and Draco’s Aunt Bellatrix had happily assisted. They had pushed and demanded and forced him until Lucius’s sanity, fragile after his years at Azkaban, finally snapped. And now they are doing the same to his son.

They have been branded failures, the Malfoy men. Lucius messed up his assignment of capturing Harry Potter years ago, got himself captured in turn and sentenced to Azkaban. He had revealed the Malfoys as Death Eaters. Draco was unable to perform the task given to him to redeem his name and status amongst the Death Eaters. Failures both of them, and they are never allowed to forget it.

Treasurer of the Dark Lord, they call Draco these days. Draco’s hands clench into fists. It is an insult. It says he is capable of nothing of importance. All Draco can do is add columns and give money.

Oh, yes, the Dark Lord uses Draco. He tells the young man to be proud. After all, he is of use to the Dark Lord and his noble cause. The Dark Lord uses Draco’s name, his resources, his connections, and his money. He is slowly bleeding the once proud Malfoys dry.

If Draco saw a way out, he would take it. But there is nothing he can do.

Draco’s gloomy musings are interrupted by the sudden Apparition of a house-elf. The creature is new. It has only recently been given to Draco by the Dark Lord. Another slap in the face. Another reminder that the Malfoys have lost to Harry Potter. Another reminder that Draco needs help for everything he does.

‘Young Master Malfoy,’ the elf squeaks with a bow so deep its large nose touches its knobbly knees. ‘There are wizards here to see Young Master Malfoy. Very quickly. The wizards tell Kooky to bring Young Master Malfoy quickly. There is important goings on.’

Draco nods at the elf.

‘Thank you,’ he says tonelessly and rises from his chair. Treated like a servant in his own house. He grits his teeth and takes a deep breath before stepping out of the room.

He makes it a point to walk slowly down the long hall towards the grand staircase. He will not rush. He will cling to the reminder of his dignity as long and as tightly as possible.

When he has reached the top of the stairs, he sees a group of excitedly chattering wizards in the entrance hall. For a moment a smile threatens to break his calm mien at the sight of a familiar dark head among them. But he has himself under control quickly.

Slowly, he descends the stairs. Half-way down, he raises his voice.

‘Good afternoon, gentlemen. My elf told me you wanted to see me?’

The group turns to face him. Draco can see one or two sneers before the faces are masked. This is rabble, and they do not yet dare mock him openly.

One wizard steps forward. He wears the nondescript, slightly shaggy robes of a Hound. His eyes sparkle with excitement, and his cheeks are flushed. He looks obscene, Draco thinks.

‘Mr Malfoy, great news!’ the man booms. ‘We’ve caught Potter!’

Draco stops short and blinks. For a moment he thinks he hasn’t understood correctly. But the other wizards assembled exclaim loudly in surprise and delight. Apparently this is news to them as well. Draco glances down into what seems to him a sea of flushed, leering faces. Looking down at them, he is the only one who notices a pair of black eyes widen for a moment in shock, before the initial reaction is masked.

Draco wonders. Why should Headmaster Snape be shocked at the capture of Harry Potter? Or was he shocked? Suddenly Draco isn’t so sure. The moment was so fleeting, and now, there is only the familiar sneer on Severus’s thin lips.

Draco realises they expect him to say something. He takes a controlled breath and moves down the last couple of steps.

‘That is indeed great news,’ Draco says coolly. ‘How did you manage that?’

As he walks forward, he catches Severus’s eyes and nods a slight greeting at him. From the corner of his eyes, he notices one shaggy wizard elbow another with a meaningful wink. Draco chooses to ignore them.

‘Caught him right around here, Mr Malfoy! Right around the corner. Trying to sneak onto the grounds, he was.’

‘Probably thinking the Chosen One can take out a dozen of Death Eaters alone,’ a rough voice jeers.

‘Trying to sneak onto the grounds?’ Draco repeats, surprised.

‘Yes, yes,’ the Hound nods eagerly. ‘And a fair slippery fellow he was to catch, throwing hexes and trying to weasel out o’ our trap.’

In the background, some wizards snicker. Draco only nods.

‘You have brought him inside, I take it?’ he inquires.

‘Yes, yes.’ The Hound waves his arm wildly. ‘The Questioning Room.’

Draco sneers. The Questioning Room was once the breakfast parlour. A comfortable room, with large windows facing east. Today, it is bare of all furnishings except an ornate chair reserved for the Dark Lord.

‘Indeed,’ Draco says flatly. ‘Have you found out what he was trying to achieve?’

For the first time, the Hound doesn’t look pleased with himself. ‘Er, no, sorry, Mr Malfoy. He’s resisted all attempts to ask questions so far.’

Intimidation, threats, Crucio, Imperio, Draco translates for himself.

‘And, ah …’ The man seems positively uncomfortable. ‘We … uh … We decided to give Veritaserum a try, and I was sent to get you and ask you for some. Or if you could brew some. Didn’t know Headmaster Snape was here.’

And, of course, the former Potions master is a much better – and more trustworthy – candidate to brew such a complicated potion. Draco tries not to resent the man for his words. He is right. This has nothing to do with Draco’s disgrace. He forces himself to nod.

‘I believe Professor Snape will be able to help you out as there is no Veritaserum in the house.’ Draco’s eyes flick questioningly to the man standing in the background.

Heads turn towards Snape, and he answers coolly, ‘I have no Veritaserum on me, Mr Malfoy, but I shall be able to send some from Hogwarts when I return.’

Draco looks at the Hound. ‘I hope that is sufficient?’

The man fidgets. ‘Um, actually … It’s like this: we’ve caught Potter! We … um … we must let the Dark Lord know as soon as possible. And we’d better get some answers out of the guy before that.’

‘Inform the Dark Lord,’ Draco says pensively. ‘Yes, of course.’

He is only half aware of his right hand rubbing his left forearm. Two wizards step back from him. Did they forget he is wearing the Mark? The Hound begins to look panicked.

Severus steps forward and looks hard at the Hound. The man flinches back.

‘Have you made sure to that it is indeed Potter you have caught?’

Severus’s sharp question takes all by surprise. The Hound’s eyes are wide.

‘He’s got the scar! He looks like Potter!’

There is some murmur in the background.

Severus snorts derisively. ‘Even you must have heard of Polyjuice.’

Draco sees his astonishment mirrored in the faces around him.

‘Polyjuice?’ a wizard standing behind Draco asks, confused. ‘Why should he …?’

The Hound then shakes his head. ‘Beg your pardon, Professor Snape, but what with the fight and the running around and the questioning, we’ve had him for more than an hour. If he’s Polyjuiced, he’d have changed back.’

But Severus shakes his head and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Draco knows that stance. He has seen it at school, before Professor Snape began to censure a particularly slow student, usually either Potter or Longbottom.

‘Allow me to rid you of your misconception,’ Severus says icily. ‘If he is Polyjuiced, he would not necessarily have changed back if you have not administered a counter-acting potion. You are quite aware of the fact that the potions specialists of the Auror Department experimented with Polyjuice and developed a longer-lasting variant? The same Auror Department by the way that, despite all our attempts, apparently still has some connections to Potter.’

‘But why in Merlin’s name would someone Polyjuice into Potter?’ a muscular wizard, who Draco recognises as Jugson, asks.

Severus turns and raises both eyebrows in an expression of surprised contempt. ‘It would not be the first time.’

Jugson doesn’t respond, biting his lip. They all remember a number of occasions where they were tricked by more than one Potter, the last one about six months ago when they had been alerted that Potter had tried to break into Gringotts. Rushing in, they had found a dazed Travers in a Gringotts wagon full of fake Galleons while Potter and Granger duelled their way out of Borgin & Burkes.

The silence in the entrance hall is thick and nervous as they all look at each other with varying expressions of unease. Snape does not need to say it aloud: if the Dark Lord is called and the prisoner turns out to not be Potter, he will not be pleased.

Finally, the Hound coughs, breaking the silence. ‘Um … then we’d better, er, identify him first, eh?’ He looks around pleadingly, as though unsure of what to do next.

Jugson gives a sharp nod. ‘Yes. Immediately.’

They seem to have forgotten Draco, and although he is not at all keen on getting involved with something that might turn out so disastrous, he is even less willing to be further disregarded in his own house.

‘Well,’ Draco says slowly and heads turn to him. ‘I suppose I had better go and see him, then. Professor Snape, you will come with me, of course?’

Severus inclines his head, but before they can turn to walk away, Jugson scoffs.

‘And what do you, whelp, think you can do, eh?’

The other men snicker.

Draco turns to look Jugson full in the face. Inside, he is shaking, with anger, hatred, and fear, but outwardly he is unmoved. His face shows nothing but the trademark Malfoy arrogance. ‘I went to school with Potter for six years, in case you have forgotten.’ He raises his eyebrows to emphasise his words. ‘I do believe I know more about him than how he looks.’

Jugson flushes angrily and the men around him mutter. The Hound, though, nods his head.

‘Yeah, you’re good, Mr Malfoy. And the Headmaster, yes, yes. Now, come along.’

Both Draco and Severus make a point of waiting several seconds before they follow the Hunter. They are not sheep to be herded along like that. At the door, Draco turns around once more.

‘Gentlemen, do accompany us,’ he says sarcastically. ‘You might want to be there, in case I decide not to recognise Potter.’

He knows they will hate him for that, but he couldn’t resist. It feels so good to put them in their place at least a little bit.

Unsurprisingly, they all follow him.

~*~

Upon entering the Questioning Room, Draco casts a quick glance around, taking in as much as possible in as little time as possible. It is one of the skills he has acquired since the end of his sixth year.

There are three more Hounds. They are even shaggier and dirtier than the one that came to inform Draco of their catch. Two have torn clothes and all three show signs of having been hit by some hex or other. Apparently they sent the most presentable to fetch Draco, who cannot suppress a sneer. It took four of them to subdue Potter, and it is obvious that it wasn’t easy. Potter …

Draco’s eyes come to rest on the figure kneeling between the three Hounds, arms tied behind his back. He is dressed in dirty jeans and an equally dirty green jumper. There is a smudge of mud on his cheek, and dried blood below his right ear. His glasses are cracked, but the green eyes behind them are still as defiant and blazing as Draco remembers.

‘Ah, Mr Malfoy,’ one of the Hounds says and takes a step forward. There is a small, stylised Dark Mark on his robes. Apparently, this one is the leader of the group. ‘Come to see Potter finally caught, eh?’ His broad grin is smug. He is clearly very pleased with himself.

Draco’s eyes slide off the man and back to Potter. ‘Actually,’ he says levelly, ‘Professor Snape suggested we had better make sure that this really is Potter.’

Keeping his eyes on Potter, he notices the green eyes widen and focus somewhere behind Draco. Potter jerks in his restrains of rope and magic, and the Hounds react instinctively. Even as Potter opens his mouth they hit him with a Petrificus Totalus. The slender body freezes. The eyes blaze green fury.

‘Going somewhere, Potter?’ one of the Hounds rasps with an unpleasant smile and knocks the bound boy down.

‘Careful!’ shouts the one who had been sent to get Veritaserum from Draco nervously and darts forward, while the leader frowns at Draco.

‘Make sure that it is Potter?’ The leader turns and watches his companion push Potter back up into a kneeling position, then looks back to Draco. ‘Of course it’s Potter! We found him sneaking around, got him right and tight, and all we need now is a little Veritaserum to make him sing before we hand him over to the Dark Lord.’

‘Headmaster thinks he might be Polyjuiced,’ the first Hound explains.

The Hound with the raspy voice snorts. ‘With a bit of Verityserum, that’ll be cleared right away. Just pour some of the stuff into him. Got some, Malfoy?’

Draco sneers at the man. ‘Veritaserum,’ he emphasises the correct pronunciation, ‘is not a household potion. I don’t have any here. Professor Snape will send some from Hogwarts when he returns there, if it is still needed by then.’

‘Brew some,’ the Hound spats.

Draco snarls, but Severus is faster.

‘Mr Buntly,’ he says icily, ‘your ignorance makes me wonder how you ever managed to pass your Potions OWLs. Have you never opened your textbook? Veritaserum takes a full moon-cycle to mature. Mr Malfoy cannot simply “brew some” for you for immediate use.’

Hound Buntly’s faces flushes a splotchy red and he glares at Severus but doesn’t reply. Severus gives a curt nod. ‘If you wish to dose your captive with the Truth Serum, you will have to wait until I can send you some.’

‘Can’t you go now?’ the fourth Hound, the oldest of them, asks.

Draco is not surprised that the man, who is more than a decade older then Severus, withers under the glare turned on him.

‘No, I cannot.’ Dark eyes sweep over the assembled wizards. ‘My orders prevent me.’

No one dares ask what the Headmaster’s orders are. They all know how deep the man is in their master’s trust, and trying to push Snape into doing something against his orders is equivalent to direct disobedience towards their Lord.

‘Well, then …’ The oldest Hound shuffles his feet and looks toward their leader. ‘Do we wait?’

‘The Dark Lord won’t want to wait that long,’ Jugson says with relish. ‘He’ll be angry if you call him in three weeks’ time to tell him you’d had Potter that long.’

The leader of the Hounds glares at him. ‘Well, go ahead and call him and then tell him it was your idea to call him before we had answers for him!’

Jugson laughs, and the first Hound says urgently, ‘We have to identify him first, Geoff!’

The leader whirls to his colleague and, jabbing a dirty finger at the frozen Potter, yells, ‘That’s Potter, damnit, what d’ye want to identify!’

Draco hears the whispering behind him and feels it is time to take control of the situation again. He cannot allow the rabble to laugh behind his back. Besides, they are getting nowhere, and he really wants to know why Severus thought it necessary to confirm that they are dealing with Harry Potter.

Taking a step towards the captive, he barks, ‘Hound!’ in a perfect imitation of his father’s tone.

It works instantly. The whispering behind his back stops, Jugson’s laugh stops, and the Hounds all turn to look at him. Even Potter is now glaring at him. Draco feels Severus’s approving presence at his elbow and swallows his nervousness.

‘You have done a very good job catching an intruder,’ he says. His voice doesn’t shake, and neither does it sound strained. Draco is a bit surprised. ‘However, Headmaster Snape reminded us of the several times we have been tricked by a Polyjuiced Potter. I agree with him that it is best we make sure the captive is indeed Potter before we call the Dark Lord.’

The first Hound nods emphatically, but the pack leader looks angry. ‘It is Potter,’ he insists sullenly and glares at Draco.

The silence after his words stretches until Draco realises that after taking control of the situation like he did, he is now responsible. The others will leave everything to him. He will be the one to talk and make decisions.

At that, his heartbeat speeds up and his hands become clammy. Nervousness and fear almost overwhelm him. He cannot do this! He is not a leader, he will make mistakes that will lead to punishment, he has done that before, he …

Draco catches himself just in time before he begins hyperventilating. Ashamed and angry with himself for losing control like this in public, he takes a deep breath and clenches his fists. He cannot allow himself thoughts of failure, not now, not ever.

There is a movement of black robes at his side, and Potter’s glare turns away from Draco. The green eyes flash, and the glare intensifies. Draco looks at Severus’s face and finds the dark eyes narrowed and an odd, disapproving look on the man’s features. It makes Draco pause and wonder, and that dissipates the swirling anxiety in his mind.

He pushes all thoughts of the Dark Lord to the back of his mind, and concentrates firmly on the present, where there is a Potter-looking intruder in his house and Severus is a bit too interested in the mystery of the captive’s identity.

He looks back at the leader of the pack of Hounds who is eying Draco with suspicion and faint contempt. Draco sneers, and the man’s contempt changes into vague unease.

‘We cannot be sure the captive is Potter,’ Draco repeats. ‘He and his friends are known to use Polyjuice, the long-lasting Polyjuice the Aurors developed. We must make sure, or our Lord will be displeased.’

Pretending to act unconsciously, Draco once more puts his right hand on his left arm. The reaction is the same as before. The Hounds look a little worried and far more respectful. Draco smirks.

‘Why, then, do something,’ a voice from behind him urges, and not in a kind, supportive way.

Draco’s shoulders tense, but he doesn’t turn around. He ignores the man, ignores the questioning faces of the Hounds, and looks at Potter, who is still staring at Severus. Draco hesitates. Are Potter’s eyes pleading? No, impossible.

‘Mr Malfoy?’ The pack leader approaches Draco. He looks subservient, but the expression does not sit well on his face. Draco can see the sham. ‘It’s not only he looks like Potter. I … We … That is, we had to use Imperio, but he can shake it. We heard that Potter can resist. An’ he did! Just shrugged it off! Must be Potter.’

Severus scornful snort makes Draco’s answer redundant.

‘Every idiot can learn to shake of the Imperius Curse,’ Severus scoffs. ‘All that is necessary is a strong mind and a firm will. And believe me, Potter has neither.’

The captive’s eyes all but pop out of their sockets at that. It is clear that, were he capable, he would be screaming and twisting, but frozen in Petrificus as he is, all he can do is glare at Severus.

As does the leader of the Hounds. Draco nods inwardly. Of course the man is loath to admit even the possibility that the captive is not Potter. He believes himself to have captured their Lord’s number one enemy and probably already saw himself as the Dark Lord’s Right Hand. Snubbed ambition is like an acid burning in the stomach; Draco knows the feeling only too well, and always in connection with Potter.

‘Well, then we’d better find something else to identify him by,’ Jugson taunts. ‘Didn’t Mr Malfoy say he knows Potter from school? Come on, show us how well you know Potter.’

Draco’s fists clench but he still ignores the man. He turns his attention to the captive and looks him over. His mind whirls. What can he do, what can he check, something that only he knows? Is there anything? Draco looks the kneeling man up and down, but there is nothing about him that Draco can think of that he would recognise as typically Potter that is definitely there or definitely missing. Apart from the strange expression in the green eyes earlier. But why would Potter look at the professor he hated most in any meaningful way?

There is more whispering behind Draco, and someone snickers softly. Draco has to suppress the urge to turn and hex the whole bunch. The impulse, however, sparks an idea.

‘Were you able to obtain his wand?’ he asks, turning to the pack leader.

The man stops glaring at Severus and nods reluctantly. ‘Yes.’ He digs through a pocket in his robes and produces a wand which he hands to Draco. ‘Here, that’s it.’

Draco takes it, frowning, and turns it in his hands. It is rather short and thick, quite unlike the slender stick Draco remembers from classes and those times Potter’s wand was pointed in his direction. The colour is different as well, very light, not the warm brown it has in Draco’s memories.

He looks up and spears the leader with a hard glance. ‘Are you sure this is his wand?’

The man blinks, surprised and a little uneasy. ‘Well … we took it from him.’

Draco looks at Severus. The man is still scrutinising the captive. Draco glances down again and shakes his head. He feels worried, uncertain.

‘This is not Potter’s wand,’ he says finally.

‘What!’ one of the wizards behind him gasps, and the Hounds start. There are more exclamations which Draco all ignores. He turns to Severus who is watching with a strangely blank expression.

‘Professor Snape? You have seen Potter’s wand in class.’ Draco holds out the wand. ‘Please, have a look at this.’

Severus frowns and takes it. He runs a finger over the light wood, then gives the wand an experimental flick.

‘No,’ he agrees. ‘This is not Potter’s wand. This is birch. Potter’s wand is made of holly.’ His frown deepens, and he turns to stare at the captive, who continues to stare back intently.

The pack of wizards at the back is suddenly very quiet. The Hounds look disappointed and confused. Draco’s neck prickles. If this is not Potter … Is that why Severus insisted on identification of the captive? But how could Severus have known? Was it just a suspicion or did he have prior information? What is going on?

‘He could be using someone else’s wand,’ the pack leader insists. He eyes Severus stubbornly, refusing to give up his spectacular catch so easily. ‘To make us believe that it’s not himself but someone else.’

Severus shrugs and twirls the wand absently between his long fingers. ‘Of course he could. However, that would imply that Potter and his little friends think about what they are doing before they go off, and I have had the misfortune of observing Potter’s habit of acting without thinking too many times to believe he might have changed that habit.’

The Hounds now look distinctly uncomfortable. The three men standing around the captive exchange glances, and the leader bites his lips.

‘And what now?’ he asks aggressively. ‘This one looks like Potter but doesn’t have the right wand.’ He turns to Draco, looking for directions.

But Draco is equally at a loss of what to do. He wants to grimace and tell the man he has no idea and that they shouldn’t ask him for instructions, but he cannot do that. The men standing behind him would never let him forget that. And he has lost enough respect already. But he doesn’t know what to do.

Trying to hide his uncertainty and buy himself time, he finally says, ‘Well, we must identify the captive unequivocally.’

There’s a snort from one of the wizards standing behind Draco. Another voice adds, ‘That’s what we been trying ter do all the time.’

It makes Draco furious and he sharply turns to glare at the men. ‘No, it’s not! We’ve been wondering whether this is Potter or not. What I mean is we need to find out who this is, if it’s not Potter.’ He struggles to contain his anger, clenching his fists tightly at his sides. When he continues, his voice is his usual, arrogant drawl, even though he speaks through grit teeth, ‘After all, that is the meaning of identifying .’

‘And how do we do it?’ the leader of the Hounds demands.

Draco turns back and glares at him too. ‘You are the expert at catching wizards, Hound whatever-your-name-is. Surely this isn’t the first time you run into difficulties identifying a captive! What is your usual method of identification?’

The man looks offended, his companions squirm. The first Hound answers apologetically, ‘We’ve already tried everything. He won’t talk. That’s why we needed Veritaserum.’

‘But that’s not available it seems,’ the leader sneers. ‘So what do you suggest we do, eh?’

Draco, out of ideas, can only sneer back helplessly. The rustling behind his back starts again, and he knows he has to think fast. What can they do when all interrogation methods have failed and they don’t have Veritaserum? His eyes dart over to Severus’s dark-clad shape, and their eyes meet. Severus’s are dark and piercing, and suddenly Draco’s neck prickles again.

‘Legilimency,’ the deep voice of the headmaster states calmly.

‘What? What?’ The leader of the Hounds looks from Draco to Severus and back, clearly confused.

‘Lelligy-what?’ Jugson’s voice sounds both suspicious and eager.

Draco slowly blinks. ‘Of course,’ he says. ‘That would … identify the captive unequivocally.’

Behind his calm words, his mind is working rapidly. Why is Severus so insistent? Why did he think of verifying the captive’s identity in the first place, and why does he now go to the lengths of suggesting Legilimency? Merely checking to make sure that no mistake is made is not a sufficient answer. Has the Dark Lord information about Potter’s plans, and has he warned the Headmaster? Are these Severus’s orders? Or is it something else entirely?

Severus gives a curt nod and turns to the captive.

‘Wait, wait! What’re you doing?’ the pack leader cries at the same time one of the wizards asks, ‘What’s this Legi-thingy, Headmaster?’ and the Hound with the raspy voice growls, ‘Why can’t we do it?’

Severus straightens and his dark eyes once more sweep the room with a superior glance, quickly silencing everyone.

‘Legilimency,’ he says, over-pronouncing every syllable of the word, ‘is the rare and obscure skill of invading another person’s mind. I will be able to establish without a doubt whose mind it is.’

‘How come you can do it and we can’t?’ Hound Buntly insists.

‘The Dark Lord taught me before his unfortunate … accident at the Potter house. If you have any complains about whom the Dark Lord chooses to teach, then I suggest you address them to him.’

That is enough to quell the last bit of resistance. Draco even feels a new respect from the wizards for him. After all, he has shown to be familiar with such a rare skill, and one that the Dark Lord personally has taught his favourite! From the corner of his eyes, Draco catches a glance of Jugson’s face. It is pinched with envy. Draco wants to laugh.

But then Severus steps forward and draws Draco’s attention again. The headmaster slips the birch wand into his pocket and takes his own wand out. As he raises it, the captive’s eyes seem to widen in apprehension.

Two quick flicks of Severus’s wand, and the Petrificus is cancelled and the captive is bound tightly in thick ropes. He opens his mouth and draws in a hissing breath, but before he can say anything, Severus’s wand flicks again, and no sound comes forth.

‘This is quite unnecessary,’ Severus says smoothly. ‘I will be able to get all the information I need directly from your mind. This method is infinitely more preferable than listening to your undoubtedly spirited insults.’

The men in the room snicker and the captive, now in possession of his ability to move, snarls and mouths profanities at the Professor.

Severus’s dark head nods. He comes to stand in front of the captive, who is forced to look up. ‘Yes, a very creditable rendition of Potter’s usual reaction,’ the Headmaster says in a bored tone. ‘But useless, utterly useless. Now, hold still.’

The captive has begun to twist and tug on the ropes binding him. One wizard laughs jeeringly.

‘Oh, seems you’re quite right, Headmaster, about the prisoner. Seems he doesn’t like you looking into his head at all.’

The other men laugh at that and begin taunting the captive, who gives every indication that the jeering wizard was right.

‘Who do you think it is, then?’ one voice calls out.

‘Perhaps it is Potter all right!’ another one answers excitedly. ‘He’s trying to hide!’

The voices become louder and the wizards press closer. Draco has to take several steps to the side to avoid being jostled by the eager crowd. From where he comes to stand, he has a perfect view of the captive kneeling in front of Severus. The head with the messy black hair is turned slightly to the side to avoid the penetrating glance directed downwards. One of the Hounds grabs a shock of the black hair and yanks the head back, and Draco suddenly notices how positively suggestive the position of captive and inquisitor is.

Severus snaps at the Hound, who jumps and stumbles backwards. The captive tries to turn his head away again, but Severus long fingers grip the round chin.

‘Now, hold still,’ he repeats, softer this time, both in volume and tone.

The captive seems to freeze, staring wide-eyed upwards. His lips curl back in a half-hearted snarl, and then Severus raises his wand to the other man’s eye-level and whispers the incantation.

The green eyes widen further, and the slender body jolts, but Severus’s grip on the captive’s chin prevents escape. When the crowd realises what is happening, they fall silent. Everybody seems to wait with bated breath.

Draco feels the breathless anticipation as well. His heart beats faster, and involuntarily, he leans forward, caught in the mood. His eyes feel glued to the spectacle in front of him, the-man-who-might-be-Potter on his knees and gazing intently upwards, and Severus gazing even more intently down at him, head slightly bent and still holding the captive’s chin.

Engrossed as he is in the view, it takes a little while until Draco notices that Severus’s fingers are really only holding the round chin, not gripping it tightly. His hold is oddly gentle. The whole tableau suddenly looks to Draco less like an interrogation but more like an intimate moment between lovers.

But then the moment is broken, and Severus steps back, lowering his wand. The captive jerks his head out of the Headmaster’s grip and scowls darkly, lips twisted. His cheeks are oddly flushed. Severus looks back with a far too delighted smirk.

‘Well, well. If that wasn’t enlightening,’ he says softly.

‘Who is it?’ Jugson steps so close to Snape he almost brushes up against the other man. ‘Who is it? Is it Potter?’ His voice is breathless, and the excitement vibrating in it makes a cold shiver run down Draco’s spine.

Severus backs away from Jugson, scowling ferociously at the other man. ‘No,’ he bites out. ‘This is not Potter but the youngest Weasley boy.’

Draco gasps as the assembled wizards groan and swear. ‘What?’ he blurts, and as Severus turns to look at him, ‘Are you sure?’

Because Draco knows the Weasel-King. And there is no way in hell that Weasel boy is that good an actor. Admittedly, his temper is at times as volatile as Potter’s. But there are some things about Potter’s fury when provoked by Snape that are unique, and Draco could have sworn he had seen them in the captive’s eyes. Besides, Draco is pretty sure that Weasel boy’s wand isn’t birch either.

The wizards murmur at Draco’s outburst, and Severus’s scowl impossibly darkens even further.

‘Yes, Mr Malfoy,’ he replies sharply. ‘I am sure. For all Potter’s faults he would never have these thoughts about Granger.’

Draco’s mouth twists into an expression of disgust as he understands what Severus is hinting at, even as the captive behind him throws himself against his ropes and tries to shout.

‘Filthy traitor,’ one of the wizards murmurs, ‘lusting after a Mudblood bitch.’

The captive’s face suddenly flushes red in a violent rage that Draco can almost – almost – believe is Weasley’s.

Severus seems to have sensed Draco’s disbelief. ‘If you doubt me, please Floo your aunt and ask her to come,’ he says calmly. ‘Bellatrix is capable of basic Legilimency, and more is not needed to break through Weasley’s pathetic shields. And you can trust her that she will tell you exactly what she has seen in that mind.’

He affects a slight shudder, as if to hint that what he has seen was more than disgusting, and Draco echoes it. Not because of sudden visions of what Weasel boy's mind must look like, but because of the mention of Auntie Bellatrix. He’d much rather never see her again. Severus knows that, and heartily agrees. But if he is willing to call the mad woman …

Draco shakes his head. ‘No, that won’t be necessary,’ he says. ‘I was merely surprised that the Weasel should be the one to come here. Were you able to find out why he’s here?’

Severus tilts his head. His long hair falls forward, partly hiding his face. ‘I am not quite sure,’ he says slowly. ‘The boy’s mind was highly muddled and confused. There were flashes of a conversation, something about spying and finding out … Well. No more than that.’

‘Spying?’ Draco repeats with a sneer. ‘Did he really think he could just stroll in here alone and listen in on us?’

Severus shakes his head. ‘He isn’t alone. Someone came with him. They are still outside.’

The disappointed Hounds suddenly perk up.

‘There’s another one outside?’

‘Who is it? The real Potter?’

‘Where is he?’

‘How do you know? Did you see?’

They all seem to be talking at the same time.

Severus snorts. ‘Not even Potter is stupid enough to come here.’ He casts a malicious glance at the Polyjuiced Weasel who is straining once more against his bonds. ‘I couldn’t see them in the boy’s mind, but none of Potter’s merry band of little friends ever goes anywhere alone. And considering this is Ronald Weasley, I daresay the other one is Granger.’

The leader of the Hounds deflates once more, but the other three look interested.

‘Should we go out and try to get her?’ the oldest of them asks.

Draco, who feels much more in control now that the situation is clear, glares at him. ‘Of course,’ he snaps. ‘It is your duty to be out there and control the vicinity! I’ll pretend I didn’t hear the question.’

The men glower at him. They do not like being chastened by a man younger than they.

‘Snobby bastard,’ one mumbles under his breath.

Draco can’t tell whether he is supposed to hear that or not, but he decides to let it pass. He doesn’t care if they like him or not, as long as they do what he tells them and show some respect.

‘But can we be sure she is still outside?’ Severus interjects softly.

Draco frowns at him. ‘What do you mean?’

Severus points towards the Hounds. ‘All four of them went after this one. Naturally they did, after all, he looks like Potter. But they left the area uncontrolled. Granger would have had time enough to get through the wards and inside the house.’

The words seem to jolt everyone in the room. They look around, over their shoulders, as if they thought the Granger girl was somewhere around.

Draco holds his breath. He has never considered this possibility before. The thought of Granger inside the manor, inside his home, without him knowing where she is, makes him feel nauseated. He cannot help the Death Eaters invading his home. But to have this once so safe place suddenly open to apparently everyone is too much.

‘A diversion,’ gasps the leader of the Hounds and then swears colourfully.

‘Yeah, looks like it,’ agrees one of the Death Eaters. His wand is out and he is still looking around uncomfortably.

‘What do we do now?’

‘Where do you think she’s gone?’

Suddenly, a hot flash of anger surges through Draco. Without thinking he snaps, ‘Hounds, you go outside and do what you’re supposed to do! Find the intruder! You—’ he points at the group of Death Eaters, ‘—you search the house. The cellars, the ground floor and the east wing.’

‘What about upstairs?’

Draco snarls, ‘Upstairs are my family’s rooms. I believe I am capable of checking there myself.’

The Death Eaters, especially Jugson, don’t look very happy with their order. They shuffle their feet and glance at each other. The Hounds, too, appear reluctant to leave. Draco clenches his fists. This has to stop!

‘What about Weasley, then?’ asks the pack leader. ‘What’s happening to him? Shouldn’t one or two of us stay and try to make him talk?’

‘He didn’t before,’ the first Hound mumbles, but loud enough to be audible.

‘Oh, he’ll talk now,’ Jugson leers. ‘An’ if he don’t, Crucio will loosen his tongue.’

‘That didn’t work before, either,’ counters the Hound. ‘He just screamed and twitched and swore.’

‘Then keep it on!’

‘No, no,’ interrupts a reedy wizard and puts a hand on Jugson’s arm. ‘Can’t use Cruciatus for too long. They go mad if you do, and then we’ll never find out. Believe me. I been working at Mungo’s long enough to know.’

Jugson growls, annoyed. Then, Severus’s smooth voice interrupts, ‘If I am allowed to make a suggestion? Leave the boy to me. Legilimency can be maintained for longer than the Cruciatus Curse, and I might be able to get some sort of sense out of the boy’s mind.’

Jugson looks disappointed, but the other Death Eaters nod, and the Hounds are visibly glad someone has taken the responsibility for the captive. They promise vociferously they will find the Granger girl and then they tromp off, their leader with a distinct slouch in his step, though. The Death Eaters begin to discuss who will search which part of the manor. Jugson sidles up to Severus and, with an oily smile, asks, ‘Don’t you think it would be safer if someone stayed here with you, Headmaster? In case the Granger bitch shows up.’

Severus banishes the ropes that tied Weasley and orders the captive to get up. He doesn’t look at his fellow Death Eater when he answers.

‘I will not remain here. With your permission, Draco,’ he addresses the young man, ‘I will take Weasley up to my rooms. I can set the wards there accordingly so that Granger won’t be able to enter and he won’t be able to leave.’

Draco blinks at Severus. He is still surprised that Severus volunteered for the task of interrogating Weasley, and Severus’s request astonishes him even more. But he inclines his head in consent.

‘Of course, Professor Snape. I daresay you will have more peace and quiet in your quarters.’

Severus nods his thanks and gestures at Weasley to walk ahead of him out of the room. His wand is hanging loosely at his side, but Draco doesn’t doubt that Severus could hex the captive within a heartbeat. Weasley doesn’t seem to doubt it, either, because with a final glare at Severus, he turns and walks out of the room. Severus follows leisurely.

Draco watches them leave through narrowed eyes. There is something in the way the captive moves that reminds him distinctly of Potter. Would Weasley in Potter’s body move that way? Vince and Greg were still recognisable as themselves, even when they were Polyjuiced into first-year girls. There were certain idiosyncrasies about them that they kept. Draco is suddenly very sure that the prisoner isn’t Weasley but Potter. Why didn’t Severus detect it? Is Potter so good at Occlumency that he can pretend to be someone else?

Or did Severus lie?

The treacherous thought comes unbidden and leaves Draco cold inside. It can’t be. Severus is a Death Eater and very high in the Dark Lord’s esteem and confidence. Besides, Severus killed the old Headmaster. Draco tries to forget that he ever thought about Severus not being loyal.

‘Was that a wise decision, Mr Malfoy?’ a querulous voice whines into his right ear. Draco starts and looks up at Jugson. Can the man read minds? But he quickly regains control of himself.

‘I do not doubt the Headmaster’s ability to control and subdue the prisoner,’ he says coldly.

Jugson casts Draco a murderous look and slouches off to convene with his cohorts. Draco shakes his head to clear it of all treacherous thoughts and leaves the Questioning Room. Further down the hall, he sees two Death Eaters poking their heads into rooms, looking for the Granger girl. The unbidden – unwarranted – suspicion rears again, and Draco wonders if the information about the second intruder might not have been false. Was it a ploy to get rid of the other wizards? So that Severus could talk to the captive alone?

Draco sighs, shakes his head, and hurries through the hall and up the stairs back to the room where a thick ledger of columns and number waits for him.

~*~

Draco sits at the desk in front of the window. His head is bent low over the large tome. His right hand holds the white quill. His eyes are gazing down at the numbers blindly.

The loops of light on the wallpaper behind him have moved a couple of inches since he has come back. But there are no new sums noted in the ledger. There are still ink blotches spattered across the pages.

Draco cannot concentrate on the columns of numbers before him, even less than before the house-elf came to tell him that someone wanted to talk to him. His mind keeps circling around his suspicions about the prisoner, his identity, and Severus’s role in the matter. Something is going on, he is sure of that. Something that Severus is doing his best to hide. But what is it?

Draco puts the quill down and buries his face in his hands. Behind his closed lids, the scene in the Questioning Room replays, and Draco wonders at every word that was said, every action. Is there something he missed? Was it all genuine? Has he started seeing plots and conspiracies everywhere?

No, Draco concludes. As much as he wishes his doubts were only signs of the onset of paranoia, something is going on. The captive is Harry Potter, Draco is sure of that. Because he knows Harry Potter. For years, Draco’s favourite sport had been taunting and provoking Potter. He knows how the green eyes flash when Potter is angry and how he moves stiffly and jerkily like a stork when he’s walking away from a situation that could have ended a lot more unpleasantly than it had.

Draco is sure that even a Polyjuiced Weasel could not have imitated these characteristics. They are uniquely Potter. Polyjuice, after all, only transforms the body, not the mind inside the body. And Greg’s toes always pointed inwards, whether he was in his own body or in the body of Penelope Evelith. Draco noticed, but he is convinced no one else did. He doubts the Weasel would be as observant and as good an actor as that.

Because by association, Draco also knows the Weasel-King. And while Carrot-top might be an exceptional chess player, he’s too damn stupid to see beyond the tip of his long nose. The idiot didn’t realise the Mudblood was carrying a torch for him for years. He wouldn’t notice these idiosyncrasies about his friend either. Granger might have noticed, and she might have told Weasel to pay attention to these, but make the Weasel angry and he forgets all about his instructions. And the captive was angry, earlier.

Draco shakes his head, rubbing his face against his palms. Yes, he is sure, the captive is Harry Potter. And Severus must have known it. He was acting odd from the beginning.

Odd, that is, for someone who knows him as well as Draco does. No one else would have caught it. The Death Eater rabble certainly didn’t. But Draco did.

He saw that brief moment of shock when the Hound announced they had caught Harry Potter. At the time, he thought he was mistaken, but in combination with everything else Draco knows that the look was there.

And then Severus insisted on verifying the captive’s identity. Why would he have done that if he hadn’t suspected that it was indeed Potter? Severus doesn’t like the Hounds. Everyone knows that. If he’d had any doubt about the captive’s identity, he would have leaned back and allowed the Hounds to incur the Dark Lord’s wrath. And afterwards used their master’s anger to his advantage, of course.

But he didn’t. He must have had a justified suspicion that Potter would indeed be as foolish as to come to Malfoy Manor, probably alone. But how did he suspect? Or had Severus been informed that someone would try to sneak into the Manor? Had he been ordered to detain them?

Draco digs his fingers into his hair and groans softly. His head is spinning already with the thoughts and questions and suspicions. What if the captive was indeed Potter, and Severus had been informed he would come, and now held him until the Dark Lord arrived? Perhaps Draco really is becoming paranoid!

Only, there had been that one look in the captive’s eyes. At the time, Draco had dismissed it. Because why would Potter look pleadingly at Severus? Now, he isn’t so sure that the look hadn’t been exactly what he’d thought it had been. So, why had Potter looked pleadingly at Severus? And what had he begged for? Moreover, how could he have known that Severus would understand the look? Or had it simply been the same pleading other victims of the Dark Lord had displayed?

But then, Severus had suggested Legilimency. That fact alone, that he had suggested it was stunning enough. Why had he done it? Because of Potter’s pleading look? Had there been a message passed between them?

Draco shivers and wraps his arms around himself. It hurts to think of this kind of understanding between Severus and Potter. It hurts to doubt Severus. But what is he to think? Severus went out of his way to see and interrogate the captive, and in the end he managed to get him alone, and up in Severus’s rooms too, which are warded, as he took care to remind everyone.

Alone. A cold shiver runs down Draco’s spine. Severus is alone with Potter right now, and no one knows what is going on between them. What are they doing? What are they talking about? And why in the world would Severus want to be alone with Potter in the first place? They have hated each other for years! At school, they have never been able to be in one room without one riling up the other. And afterwards … Afterwards, Potter was known to have said he would kill that murdering bastard the moment he saw him.

And now? This can’t be Potter’s attempt at assassination. Even he can’t be as foolish as to think he could just walk in here and kill Severus, can he? Well, he can’t harm Severus now, Draco thinks with a sigh of relief. Potter has no wand, and Severus will surely take care that Potter won’t be able to do anything to harm him.

But if not assassination, what is going on between them? What can it possibly be? There is nothing that connects these two men.

Or, Draco wonders with a sudden icy feeling, was Dumbledore right? Could the old man have been right? Was Severus really working for him as he had claimed that night? Was Severus fooling the Dark Lord?

Draco cowers in sudden fear and nausea. If Severus is betraying the Dark Lord … if he is working with Potter … if the Dark Lord finds out …

It can’t be. It mustn’t be! He can’t lose Severus as well!

A whimper escapes him, and Draco presses one hand over his mouth. Eyes screwed shut, he struggles for control. Pain and fear make him feel queasy, and it takes a long while until he is calm enough to sit up.

He exhales a long, slow breath and smoothes his hair down. His hands are trembling slightly, the only outward sign now for his inner turmoil. And even that, Draco thinks vaguely as he glances down at his hands, is too much. Too telling. But no one is in the room with him, no one will see this. And after all, the thought of Severus betraying the Dark Lord deserves some kind of outward acknowledgment.

But is he really? Or is Draco once more being paranoid, and Severus is still the double agent? Is he spying on Potter? But there have been no spectacular murders of members of Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix, and no mysterious disappearances either. If Severus was spying on Potter, wouldn’t there be?

And how long has this been going on? How long have Severus and Potter had this kind of … of understanding? How can it be? How did it start? Because … because Severus doesn’t like Potter! He never has. If he were working with Potter, wouldn’t he talk about him from time to time? If only just to damn him? And why did he never tell Draco?

Draco groans and buries his face in his hands once more. Admittedly, Potter isn’t a topic they have talked about. Rather, he is a topic that is not to be talked about by tacit agreement. But Draco still can’t help to wonder painfully why Severus has never so much as hinted that there is something more than hatred between him and Potter. Severus and Draco have come so close over the years. They have shared so many secrets. Why has Severus never shared this one?

It can only be, Draco thinks miserably, because Severus doesn’t trust him enough. And that hurts, that Severus would think he can’t trust Draco with everything. Hasn’t Draco already proved that he would do anything for those he loves? He even rejected Severus’s offer of help in his fear of doing anything that would endanger his parents. Since then, since that awful night atop the Astronomy Tower, there has been no one in whom Draco has trusted more than Severus. And until now, he has thought that he holds the same amount of Severus’s trust.

They had spent months on the run. Severus tried to get Draco to the Manor after their escape from Hogwarts, but apparently the Order had acted faster than everybody had thought possible. There had been Aurors waiting at the Manor, waiting for Draco and Severus. The fugitives had been forced to leave again and, although the Ministry had already been crumbling under the Dark Lord’s second onslaught, there had been Aurors sent to hunt them.

For months, until the Ministry had finally fallen into the Dark Lord’s hands – an event that had taken longer to bring about than anybody had anticipated – Severus and Draco had been on the run, never staying anywhere long. They had been obliged to live in the closest company with each other, and over time the lines between them had begun to blur. They ceased being teacher and student, and then they no longer were a man who had taken an Unbreakable Vow to protect the son of an old friend and a young, inexperienced wizard. They became confidants, then intimate friends, then lovers.

And although now they are no longer forced to run and hide, and have not been forced into sharing a bed in over two years, they are still close. They still are confidants and friends, and, whenever possible, they willingly share a bed and more.

So, why has Severus never told Draco? Because they do not talk about Potter? Because Severus fears Draco will betray him to the Dark Lord? But Severus ought to know that Draco would never do that, and besides, it’s not as if their master is paying much attention to Draco these days.

With an angry snarl, Draco smoothes his hair once more and sits up straight. All these questions lead to nothing. What good does it do, thinking and wondering and fretting himself into quite a state? He has a task to finish. It is not much, but he can do this, for himself and for their Lord. He will stop doubting Severus and trust him, as he has done for the last three years.

Draco picks up the quill and determinedly bends down, focusing on the numbers and columns he has to add. He will not think about … about these things again.

An indefinable amount of time later, Draco finds himself staring blindly at the ledger, his mind once more running circles around the scene earlier in the Questioning Room. With a disgusted sound, he throws the quill down, spattering more ink across the pages.

It is no use. He cannot concentrate on accounting, not while Severus is closeted away with Potter, and he has no idea of what is going on. He has to go and find out what is going on. And, standing decisively, Draco thinks that it is his right to go and find out. This is his house, after all, his home, and Potter is an intruder and Severus, though more than welcome any time, only a guest. Yes, it is well within his rights to demand answers.

On his way to the door, Draco stops in front of a mirror in an ornate, silver frame, and rearranges his clothes and hair into immaculate order. Then, he walks out of the room and down the hall towards the wing where the bedrooms are situated. He passes the grand staircase to the hall and stops again. There is once more a group of wizards assembled, whispering.

Draco steps up to the railing and leans forward, so that the men in the hall can see him. ‘Gentlemen,’ he says loudly, ‘have you found anything?’

The wizards jump in surprise and look up. Draco notices Jugson is not among them. One of the wizards shakes his head and answers, ‘No, sorry, Mr Malfoy. We didn’t find anything. But the Hounds reported that they found traces of more than one intruder around the borders of the estate.’

Draco’s brows rise. ‘They reported, did they? Not to me.’

The men look at everything but him and shuffle nervously. ‘They, um, spoke with Mr Jugson,’ one of them finally says. ‘Didn’t want to, er, interrupt you.’

‘Indeed,’ Draco says coldly. So there Jugson is. Assuming Draco’s authority. Draco’s fear of calling unwanted attention to himself recedes once more behind his anger. ‘Please let my mother know about what has happened today. She ought to be home soon.’

The men now look distinctly uncomfortable. Draco adds with satisfaction, ‘Please also tell her that I am checking in on Professor Snape. If he has found anything, I shall let her know.’

With that, he whirls dramatically away from the staircase and sweeps down the hall and out of sight of the rabble. He knows how his orders will go down. The men, already disliking him, will see his orders as Draco hiding behind his mother, but Draco couldn’t think of anything else to remind them that they are guests in his home where the Malfoys still have the authority. And no one dares to cross Mrs Malfoy. Not because of her husband; Lucius is worthless. But her sister is Bellatrix, and Bellatrix is very fond of her youngest sister. Anybody going against Bellatrix is either mad or suicidal.

Pleased with this outcome, at least for the moment, Draco opens the door that leads to the west wing, where the bedrooms of the family and their closest friends are situated. Turning from the main corridor into a smaller one, Draco approaches the room Severus always uses when he is at the Manor.

Halfway down the corridor, he can already feel the wards that Severus has set. They tingle over Draco’s skin. He takes three more steps and then stops. He is well behind the first line of wards – and why would Severus need more than one line in the Manor? – and stands still to give Severus the time to notice the wards have activated and to find out by whom.

After about thirty seconds, Draco raises his wand and begins to dismantle the wards. They are familiar to him; Severus has taught Draco the spells himself. He comes up against no resistance in taking the wards down which means that Severus has either not expected Draco to come to see him or that he has expected it and does not mind. Draco tends to think the latter. Severus is well aware of Draco’s inability to ignore anything to do with Potter.

The thought cheers him a little. Severus may not have told Draco about this thing with Potter, but he must have known his behaviour would seem odd to Draco, and he is all right with Draco coming to find out about it himself.

With the wards down, nothing stops Draco’s approach of Severus’s room. He quickly crosses the distance and, after a second of hesitation, grabs the handle and opens the door.

~*~

When Draco enters, pausing for a moment on the threshold to cast a quick glance around the room, they have both turned their heads towards the door and are looking at him. Neither of them shows surprise, only, in Potter’s case, curiosity mixed with suspicion. Draco hesitates, eyes darting from one to the other.

Severus is leaning against a bedpost, arms crossed in front of his chest. There is a faint shadow of irritation on his face, but it’s nothing like the usual storm cloud of his dealings with Potter. He seems more relaxed than tense.

Opposite him, perching on a low bench, sits Potter. He is frowning ever so slightly, and his hands are clenched tightly between his knees. But again, there is no trace of his earlier glares or fury. He looks more like someone who has been interrupted during an intense discussion, Draco thinks.

No sign of interrogation or Legilimency.

Inwardly trembling but outwardly calm, Draco steps into the room and quickly closes the door behind him. With a flick of his wand, he resets Severus’s wards, and turns back to look at the two men in front of him.

Neither has said a word. They only look at him. Draco feels both vindicated in his suspicions and incredibly hurt that they were justified. The little bit of pride he has left – as Severus’s confidant and lover, and as master of Malfoy Manor – is wounded. Ignoring the cold, queasy feeling in his stomach, he looks at Severus.

‘I would have preferred to have been told about this beforehand,’ he says softly.

Severus lifts his shoulder in a minimal shrug. ‘There was nothing to tell you.’

Draco feels the words like a physical blow, and his next words are so much sharper for it. ‘The Manor is still my home and in absence of my father I am the master. I would have liked to be informed that I could expect Potter to pop in and cause all kinds of trouble.’

Potter visibly starts but tries to cover it. ‘Oi, who’re you calling Potter?’

Draco looks at him over his shoulder, lips curling into a sneer. ‘You don’t really expect me to believe you aren’t Potter, do you?’ he scoffs.

Potter blinks at him, clearly at a loss of what to do. Draco snorts and looks back at Severus, who shrugs again.

‘I didn’t tell you anything because, if it were up to me, there would be nothing to tell. I honestly never expected him to be stupid enough to actually come here.’

‘Yes, yes, I’m an idiot, we’ve been through this before,’ Potter throws in with a dismissive wave of his hands. To Draco’s astonishment, he shows no fear of what will happen, now that Draco has shown he knows about his identity. ‘Can we move on now?’

The way Potter speaks makes it clear that this is neither the first time he and Severus have met in private nor the first time they are discussing Potter’s intelligence. The familiarity between them makes Draco ache, and he can only watch in stunned silence as the dialogue continues.

Severus sighs with irritation. ‘There is nothing else I can tell you.’

‘Don’t give me that, Snape. You just don’t want to.’

‘No, Mr Potter, there isn’t anything else. I have told you that before, and if you refuse to believe me, again, then that is your problem.’

‘Oh, come off it, Snape. I’m not saying you should draw me a detailed outline, or anything. Just give me a few pointers. I can hash out the rest.’

‘Mr Potter, for the last time, there is nothing I can tell you!’ Severus sounds aggravated. ‘If there was anything, be assured I would tell you. But this … I have no knowledge in this area. It would probably be better if you asked Hagrid. And I say that not only because he is more likely to have that kind of knowledge, but because anything that comes from him would be distinctly different from anything I would tell you. Therefore I would not endanger my position.’

Harry snorts. It sounds somewhat resigned. ‘Saving your skin, Snape, aren’t you?’

Severus sneers. ‘Naturally, Mr Potter. I have no desire to die.’

‘Well, neither have I!’ Harry snaps back, jumping up. Severus blanches at his words and seems to be retreating from Potter. Draco’s eyes widen in surprise, for all Potter has done is begin to pace in front of Severus, which leaves Draco wondering what caused Severus’s reaction.

‘And it’s not as if I could ask Hagrid,’ Potter continues, shooting a glare at Severus in passing. ‘I can’t simply march up to Hogwarts, can I, and sending an Owl isn’t an option, either. Besides,’ he stops in front of Severus, arms akimbo, ‘if that’s your only answer, why haven’t you asked him yet? You’re there, after all.’

‘Do you believe he would answer me?’

‘Just tell him it’s on Dumbledore’s order, and he’d do anything.’

Severus actually snarls. ‘Only you could expect him to believe that coming from me!’

‘I’ll give you a letter for him, then,’ Potter insists. ‘And he can write something back, and you can give it to me.’

Severus groans and covers his eyes.

Draco, having listened in confusion mixed with rising apprehension to the exchange, whispers, ‘On Dumbledore’s orders?’

Both men turn to look at him, and Draco has the distinct feeling that they have forgotten he is there. It hurts, but the feeling drowns in the slowly materialising, horrifying conviction that Dumbledore had indeed been right.

He stares at Severus, searching for something that would tell him one way or the other, but Severus’s face is expressionless and his eyes as unreadable as his mind. He looks back and doesn’t say a word. His only reaction is a thinning of his lips, something which Draco knows shows Severus’s extreme discomfort. Something heavy expands in his chest, making breathing difficult. He chokes on the realisation that Severus has kept him in the dark all this time.

‘Say, Malfoy,’ Potter suddenly interrupts the intense moment. In a daze, Draco turns to meet Potter’s green eyes. They are intent. ‘Rumour has it this place is his headquarters. Does he come here often?’

‘How …’ Draco blinks. ‘Come here … Who?’

Potter makes an impatient gesture. ‘Guess who!’

‘Potter.’ Severus’s tone is worried and warning.

Potter shakes his head, eyes still intent on Draco. ‘Does he?’

Draco swallows. ‘He …? Ah.’ He feels embarrassed that it took him so long to understand. ‘No. No, he doesn’t. Not … No.’

Potter’s shoulders slump and he sighs. ‘Damn it.’ He rubs his face in a tired gesture. ‘It would have made everything so easy.’

‘Things are never easy,’ Severus reprimands.

‘Who’re you talking to?’ Potter mumbles petulantly behind his hands. He sighs again and his hands fall down. ‘Damn. There has to be something.’

Severus does not answer in any way, and Potter slowly returns to his previous seat on the bench and sinks down. He props his elbows up on his knees and rests his chin in his palm, staring gloomily ahead at nothing.

Silence sinks onto the room and stretches. From somewhere far away, the faint echo of voices sounds. Outside, a peacock screams.

Draco tries to control his whirling thoughts and make some sense out of a surreal situation. Potter seems lost in thoughts of some unnamed task that has something to do with the Dark Lord, and Draco vaguely wonders what it is and why Potter would ask for Severus’s help. And why Severus would suggest Hagrid as best source of information. Hagrid is an uncultivated oaf who is drunk more often than not, and thinks that the most outrageous monsters are cute little pets.

Except, of course, if Potter is after the snake. Draco remembers his father telling him about the Dark Lord’s resurrection, about how Nagini kept the Dark Lord alive. Is the snake the secret of the Dark Lord’s immortality? But Draco cannot see how or why.

Neither can he see how Potter could expect Severus to help him against the Dark Lord. If the Dark Lord ever found out … Draco firmly pushes the horrific images out of his mind. And what is Severus thinking, helping Potter, even as little as this?

Draco looks up at Severus, and his heart seems to stop, only to start beating again in wild, irregular thumps. Ice spreads through his veins with every beat.

Severus is watching Potter brood. From where Draco is standing he has a clear view of Severus’s face. But it is not so much his face but his eyes, watching Potter, that makes Draco shiver inside.

Severus’s eyes are warm as they rest on the young man. They have lost their usual impenetrability, and Draco has only ever seen them do this when he and Severus are alone. Not even with Draco’s father, Severus’s oldest friend, does the other man relax enough to drop his most basic Occlumency barriers. Only with Draco, and only when they are alone. Until now.

Draco’s stomach knots painfully. He feels frozen inside even as a searing wave of wild emotion flashes through him, leaving him even more dazed and confused. It must be jealousy, but it is strangely unfamiliar. It feels nothing like the sensation he got every time Potter caught the Snitch, every time someone said something positive about Potter within Draco’s earshot, every time Dumbledore or any other teacher blatantly favoured Potter. But it is searing, burning his insides like acid while he freezes in fear. Because now Potter is taking from Draco what he cherished more than the thought of catching the Snitch first: the rare gift of Severus’s attention and affection.

Severus cares for Potter! Like he cares for Draco. And Draco is afraid that, like so many times before, Potter will in the end be the favoured one.

A sudden movement from Potter jerks both Severus and Draco from their respective contemplations. Severus’s eyes shutter, and Draco turns from him to Potter as he slams his fist into the other palm. ‘There has to be something I can do,’ Potter exclaims resolutely. Raising his head, he peers intently at Severus. ‘Where is he now?’

Severus frowns. ‘What are you planning?’ he asks suspiciously.

Potter waves his hand. ‘Nothing, really. Not yet. But if I knew where he was …’ He shrugs. ‘I could go there and get rid of the snake and then him.’

Within a heartbeat, Severus is across the room and has grabbed Potter’s shoulders, yanked him up, and is shaking him. ‘Are you completely mad, Potter? You can’t simply march into the place! You aren’t capable of casting the Killing Curse, and he’d block everything else!’

‘But I have to do something!’ Potter shouts back. Both hands clench into fists. ‘I’m so close already, and I have to do something! I can’t sit around and wait until the opportunity presents itself. Besides, it’s the snake first anyway.’

Severus is still shaking the young man. ‘You can’t!’ he repeats, face ashen. ‘You mustn’t. Don’t blindly trust your luck to get you through, you dunderheaded idiot! It won’t hold simply because you are the great Harry Potter! And even if you get the snake, it will warn him. It will give your hand, your advantage away!’

Potter tosses his head angrily. ‘He’ll notice at one point, anyway. And this way, I can surprise him! He doesn’t know that I know and that I’ve already got the other ones! Even if I can’t get him this time, he’ll be down on his luck and anyone can do him in!’

Severus looks pained. ‘Don’t you think he’d simply make a new one?’

Potter shrugs. ‘No, I don’t think he can. He’s already created so many, and from what Hermione read in Dumbledore’s books, it seems that there’s a certain limit to how many of the things one can create before, dunno, your soul simply goes pouf.’ He wrinkles his nose. ‘Though that would make things much easier.’

Severus grips Potter’s shoulders so hard his knuckles turn white and the young man moans in pain. ‘Don’t joke about this,’ Severus whispers fiercely.

Draco blinks from one man to the other, and the pieces click together in his head. Shock replaces fear and jealousy.

‘You’re planning to kill the Dark Lord,’ he exclaims, stunned. Of course he had known that Potter was called the Chosen One, the One to Free the Wizarding World of the Dark Lord, but he can’t believe that Potter believes this claptrap. He can’t believe that Potter would actually think he could defeat the Dark Lord.

‘Of course,’ the young man in question says, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Draco blinks, and his eyes dart from Potter’s green eyes to Severus’s black ones. ‘Severus,’ he pleads. ‘You too?’

Severus closes his eyes for a moment, but then answers Draco’s glance steadily. ‘I am fulfilling my last obligations,’ he says calmly.

Draco blinks again at the non-answer. When no more is said, Draco is left wondering what obligations, to whom – most likely Dumbledore – and what that means for Severus’s position. Is he indeed working for Dumbledore? Is he only fulfilling his obligations by magical force – Draco thinks of another Unbreakable Vow – to return to the Dark Lord’s services once all clauses are fulfilled? Or is Severus simply playing a very, very dangerous game?

Draco looks at Severus, and he doesn’t know whether to cry or walk over and kiss Severus senseless. His trust in Severus is shaken; how can he believe what the other man tells him ever again? At the same time Draco also feels a fierce admiration for his former Head of House. Whatever his true motives are, both sides trust in him. This is a true Slytherin, cunning, scheming, and using everything and everyone to his advantage. To his own end. Paradoxically, Draco loves Severus more than ever before in that moment.

In the end, he does neither. But as Severus and Potter start arguing again, he walks over to the bed and sinks down. He feels dazed, exhausted. Vaguely he is aware that he ought to call the Dark Lord. After all, the intruder is clearly Potter who has just admitted that he means to kill the Dark Lord. But Draco is shaken. And he doesn’t know where Severus stands, or what Severus’s orders from their master are. He could never betray Severus to the Dark Lord. No, not even if Severus were a traitor.

Besides, Draco really could not care less if the Dark Lord was killed. The wizard is not what Draco thought he would be, and he has treated the Malfoys abysmally. Draco owes him nothing. And Potter has proven that he is capable of escaping and surviving meetings with the Dark Lord. And if he is so determined to kill the Dark Lord …

Draco stills. His eyes widen, then narrow in contemplation. He suddenly realises that he has just found his way out of the horrible situation he is in, and if there is anything he can do, without endangering himself too much, he will do it. Severus seems to be doing it already. Perhaps they can even work together. Draco can prove to Severus that he can be trusted, with anything. It would create an even deeper bond between them. Now, the important question is, is Potter really capable of killing the Dark Lord? Severus said Potter can’t cast the Killing Curse, but perhaps he can learn?

Draco looks up and studies Potter, watching the young man pace. He tries to see past schoolboy enmities and past the picture he had of Potter to see if he can find something that will tell him if Potter is able to do the deed. His forehead wrinkles into an unconscious frown as his eyes scan the slender youth.

Well, technically Potter isn’t a youth anymore. But because of his size – medium at best – and slender body, he looks younger. That is, if one doesn’t look into his eyes. Those green eyes are a lot older than their years. The discrepancy has always fascinated Draco from their very first meeting in Madam Malkin’s shop, when he didn’t even know the other boy was Harry Potter. How can someone so small and seemingly fragile as Potter has always been have such old, experienced eyes?

Draco shakes his head slightly to dispel the thought of his fascination with Potter’s eyes and focuses on the present and Potter’s stature. No, not tall, and a bit on the thin side. But he has good shoulders and a nice chest, accentuated favourably by the dark green jumper. Draco knows that Potter has a lot more physical strength than his build would have one believe – he has been on the receiving end of it more than once – which means that Potter’s body ought to be strong enough to sustain the most powerful of magics.

Potter has reached the end of the room. Turning sharply, he paces back, and Draco’s eyes are drawn down to Potter’s amazingly long legs. Draco is surprised that someone so short can have such long legs, but then, Potter is always an exception.

Potter strides past the bed, and Draco admires the movement of his slender hips. There is so much energy in the way they jerk from side to side with Potter’s long steps. He is not yet stalking like a stork, but he is close. He must really be frustrated with his lack of options.

From Potter’s hips it is only a small glide to Potter’s ass, and Draco’s eyes move the few inches without second thought. Draco feels his mouth run dry at the sight of the taut round rear, encased tightly in blue denim. Who would have thought Potter was hiding that under his school robes? That’s almost as much a sacrilege as Severus’s hiding underneath his robes. Draco’s lucky he never noticed Potter’s delectable arse at Hogwarts because that would really have …

Draco’s thoughts short-circuit as Potter turns back and Draco is staring directly at Potter’s crotch. Which is hugged as tightly by the denim as Potter’s rear. And with every long, impatient step and jerk of hips, the blue cloth moves and ripples and seems to caress Potter’s cock. Which is outlined so clearly by the denim that Draco wonders if Potter could be that well endowed, or if he is at least half-hard.

Both possibilities make him salivate, and for a moment he imagines what it would feel like to put his hand on Potter’s crotch and stroke Potter’s cock through his trousers and then lower the zip and free his prize, which would be hard and leaking precome, and wrap his lips around it.

Draco swallows hard and feels his own cock twitch with interest. Then Potter marches past the bed, hiding his front from Draco, whose eyes follow every move. But Draco doesn’t mind, cannot mind, because his eyes are once more glued to that round little butt. Potter moves past Severus, and Draco looks at the man, running his eyes over the long black robes that hide Severus’s body so completely, past his crossed arms and into his face.

He finds Severus not watching Potter, but watching Draco watch Potter. There is a faint, amused smile on his lips and a knowing sparkle in his eyes.

Draco feels his cheeks heat and looks away, ashamed of himself and of being caught checking out Potter. Because that is what he was doing, checking out Potter, not trying to see the other as the man that he is now. Well, it might have started that way, but with squirming embarrassment Draco realises that he quickly forgot everything at the first, unprejudiced, sight of Potter’s body.

He can feel Severus’s eyes on him, and the heat creeps down his cheeks to his neck. His whole body feels flushed with mortification – he was drooling over Harry Potter, of all people! – and guilt towards Severus. Only a little earlier he was insanely jealous because Severus showed he cared about Potter, and here Draco is, practically undressing Potter with his eyes.

He sits very still, treacherous eyes shut firmly, waiting for Severus to say something, to lash out at him. For all that he might care about Potter, Severus cannot be pleased that his lover is lusting after another man. And it would be right, because what Draco did was wrong and he is ashamed for more reasons than he can count. He deserves punishment, he will gladly suffer anything, if only Severus doesn’t leave him.

But the words never come. Severus is silent, only watching him, and all Draco can hear are the soft footsteps of Potter ruining the carpet.

Then the footsteps stop, and from somewhere behind Draco, Potter snaps an impatient question. Finally, Draco feels Severus’s eyes leave him. He sags a little, not sure whether to be relieved or afraid.

Is Severus angry with him now? And how could he do it, lust over Potter. He doesn’t like the other young man! They have been rivals at school for years and are now on opposite sides in a war. Everything Draco holds dear Potter reviles. How could he long to touch Potter and fantasise about his cock?

The voices behind him rise into another shouting match about Potter’s lack of brainpower and foolish faith in his luck.

Draco finds himself absently disagreeing. After all, Potter is here and no one has called the Dark Lord; nor is anyone going to do so. Has he just changed sides, Draco dazedly wonders and twists around, looking for Potter and Severus.

They are standing on the opposite side of the bed, Potter with his back turned towards Draco and Severus facing him. But Potter stands so close to Severus that Severus’s face is hidden behind the black excuse for hair, and while Draco watches, Severus hisses and steps even closer, and Potter tilts his head back, and Draco cannot stop the gasp.

Potter quickly turns, eyes wide behind his glasses, and looking over at Draco with a certain alarm. Severus steps back sufficiently to peer past Potter’s shock of hair at Draco, who flushes hotly. Severus’s expression turns from worried to amused to pensive, and his dark glance slides away from Draco to stare at the back of Potter’s head.

Potter, seeing nothing that would have caused Draco’s gasp, frowns. ‘Something wrong?’ he asks, looking around uncertainly.

Draco doesn’t dare to look at him, too mortified, and shakes his head.

There is a soft rustle, and the movement of something black at the corner of his eyes makes Draco look up again. Severus has stepped forward, so that he is now standing next to Potter. He is watching Draco. When their eyes meet, his lips twitch into the ghost of a smile, and he looks down at Potter.

Potter turns to face Severus, opening his mouth, clearly intending to continue their discussion, and he freezes. He blinks rapidly at the expression in Severus’s eyes, closes his mouth, opens it again, and then licks his lips. Draco can’t help mirroring the action, but then his eyes widen in shock as Severus wraps one arm around Potter’s waist, tilts his chin up with the other hand, bends down, and kisses Potter squarely on the lips.

This is clearly as much a surprise to Potter as it is to Draco. Potter doesn’t move, doesn’t react, and his eyes are wide. Then, to Draco’s shocked surprise, he shivers, and his eyes flutter close. Severus’s mouth moves over his lips, softly and coaxingly, and Potter sinks against Severus’s body. His hands come up, gripping the heavy wool of Severus’s robes.

Draco’s heart is pounding in his chest as he watches Severus kiss Potter thoroughly. He teases Potter’s mouth open with the tip of his tongue – oh, and Draco knows how that feels! – and when Potter complies, Severus darts in, tangling his tongue around Potter’s. Potter moans softly, surprised, and kisses back. Severus lets go of his chin and pulls Potter closer into his arms and into the kiss.

Draco stares at the sight of his lover passionately kissing another man, and not just any other man, but Harry Potter. A Harry Potter who is not disgusted or enraged, but participating enthusiastically. Draco had never thought Potter would be one of them.

When did that happen? When did they stop hating each other and started, well, lusting after each other, as they quite obviously do? They must have been in contact for far longer than Draco had previously thought. Even his relationship with Severus progressed slowly, and they had never hated each other. How long have Potter and Severus been … close?

And where does this leave Draco? What does it mean for his relationship with Severus? They are – were – no, are lovers and Severus is leaving him out. Again. Doesn’t he want Draco anymore? Why is he doing this, kissing Potter, here and now and in front of Draco?

Draco shifts on the bed, drawn closer to the two men, ensnared despite himself. It is clearly the first time they have kissed, for there is a certain hesitation and delighted discovery in both men that is only part of a first kiss. Draco doesn’t know whether to be thankful that he is here to witness this or resentful of Severus for kissing Potter in the first place.

But he can’t really be resentful, not after he himself was lusting after Potter’s body earlier. Not when he finds the sight so disturbingly arousing. He can’t do anything but watch and yearn.

When Potter begins to squirm and buck against him, Severus pulls back. He stills Potter’s movements with a hand on his cheek. Potter opens his eyes and looks at Severus, who bends his head so that their foreheads touch. He whispers something which makes Potter flush hotly in embarrassment and squirm again, but this time not with lust. Severus laughs a soft, throaty laugh that sends a shiver down Draco’s spine, and pulls Potter’s hips flush against his own. Potter groans, and Severus speaks again. This time, it is loud enough for Draco to hear.

‘Don’t deny it,’ Severus breathes against Potter’s lips. The red on Potter’s cheeks deepens and, to Draco’s surprise, he darts a quick glance in his direction, biting his lips. He mumbles something unintelligible, and Severus laughs again. ‘Don’t deny it,’ he repeats, louder this time, and then grabs Potter around the waist and throws him onto the mattress.

Draco loses his balance as Potter bounces, scrambles to get up, and then he actually jumps back as Severus pounces on Potter. Draco gapes at his lover, crouching on all fours over the younger man. He cannot see Severus’s face, but he can see Potter’s, and it is flushed and terrified, with wide, eager eyes.

Frozen in shock, confusion, and breathless, painful envy, Draco watches as Severus slowly bends down, his longer hair trailing over Potter’s face. He never once looks at Draco, doesn’t say a word to him. He kisses Potter once more until the young wizard bucks up into him. Then he mouths along Potter’s jaw down to his neck. His lips caress Potter’s fluttering pulse before he moves to the back of Potter’s neck. Roughly pulling at the jumper, Severus bares a bit of shoulder. He licks along the line where shoulder meets neck, making Potter shiver.

‘Courage, Gryffindor,’ Severus breathes against Potter’s moist skin before he bites down. Potter moans loudly, arching his back. His head falls back, and his green, slightly dazed eyes meet Draco’s upside-down.

Potter whimpers as Severus suckles on his neck. He twists a little, then manages to get one arm free from Severus’s grasp. But instead of tangling his fingers in Severus’s hair, as Draco would have done, as he expected him to do, Potter raises his hand up over his head, reaching out to Draco. Potter’s green eyes never leave Draco’s face.

Draco’s mouth falls open. Stunned, he gapes at Potter – extended hand, flushed face, slightly open, kiss-bruised lips. A shy invitation in his eyes.

Then Draco understands Severus’s cryptic words and Potter’s earlier, fleeting glance. He understands why Severus is doing this, here and now and in front of Draco.

Draco stands still as his world shifts on its axis. Wide, unbelieving eyes look down into a sea of green. He hesitates, trembles, then something gives and he decides questions and answers, doubts and remonstration and everything can wait until later. He takes a deep breath and lets go.

Draco clasps Potter’s hand and lets himself be drawn down onto the bed and into his first, awkward and clumsy but so incredibly arousing, kiss with Harry.

~*~

The angle is not quite right. Draco is kneeling on the bed, bending down to reach Harry’s lips. Their faces are upside down and their noses get in the way. Draco shifts and almost loses balance on the soft mattress. It takes some manoeuvring until he has found a position that is more suitable for kissing.

Harry’s lips under his are soft and shy and eager. They open readily, letting Draco in. Harry’s tongue is clumsy and too forceful against Draco’s, and what should be an erotic dance becomes a battle. Their tongues push and twist around each other. Harry starts whimpering almost soundlessly.

Severus’s soft moan makes Draco break the kiss and peer down at him. Severus has bunched Harry’s jumper and shirt up and is sucking and nibbling on the skin of Harry’s stomach. Draco watches in fascination as Severus’s lips tug on the thin trail of dark hair than runs down Harry’s stomach and disappears into his jeans.

Draco forgets to breathe as he sees Harry’s now definitely hard cock outlined in loving detail by the tight denim. While he watches, Severus dips the tip of his tongue into Harry’s navel and gently cups the hard bulge. Harry gasps and bucks his hips into Severus’s hand, and Draco licks his lips at the sight, images of his earlier fantasy flitting through his head.

Then, there are fingers in his hair, and they are insistently tugging him down. Draco smiles at Harry’s wild eyes and gives in. Their lips melt together in another kiss. This time, Harry’s lips aren’t shy at all. He is demanding, hot, and so incredibly strong. After perfunctory resistance, Draco surrenders to Harry, and then uses all his wiles to spur the other man on to even fiercer passion.

It works, for suddenly there are arms around Draco’s waist, and he is rolled over until Harry’s surprising weight pins him down. He blinks, a little stunned, up into bright green eyes. Harry grins, showing teeth in a way only a predator would, and Draco shivers. His own cock is rock hard in his pants, and he can feel Harry’s answering hardness press against his thigh. Grabbing Harry’s hips, he pulls him up until their cocks are lined up through their clothes.

Both young men moan. Harry swoops down and claims Draco’s lips once more as Draco gropes Harry’s ass and pulls him, hard, against his hips. Harry groans into Draco’s mouth. The sound tingles over Draco’s tongue. His cock strains against his pants. It demands more friction, more touch. Draco moves harder against Harry. He can already feel his balls pull tighter against his body.

The bed dips, and suddenly Harry’s mouth is gone. Draco mewls petulantly in protest, but when he opens his eyes, he has a first class view of Severus devouring Harry’s mouth. Draco stares in wide-eyed desire. Harry’s hips twitch desperately in his hands.

Severus pulls back slightly and whispers a few words against Harry’s mouth that make him pant softly. He darts forwards and catches Severus’s lower lip between his teeth. Severus’s breath hitches. He growls and kisses Harry again. Just when Draco’s desire induced daze begins to fade for feeling left out, Severus ends the kiss and swoops down. Draco gasps and arches as he feels Severus’s hot breath on his ear, and then the tip of Severus’s tongue traces the shell and dips in. Draco lifts one hand from Harry’s wiggling arse and tangles it in Severus’s hair, tilting his head to give Severus better access.

What he hasn’t expected is a second mouth on his other ear, a second set of teeth on his lobe, or a second tongue licking the outer ear. Draco is reduced to undignified whimpering. He can hear their tongues move, counterpoint to the rush of blood in his ears and speeding up the thrum of his heart.

When first the one and then the other tongue leave him, he whines. When the bed moves again, and Harry stops frotting against him, Draco looks up. Seeing the expression in Harry’s glazed eyes, he cranes his head to look at Severus.

The man is standing beside the bed, smirking down at them. He is dressed only in the loose linen trousers he always wears under his robes. There is an impressive tent at their front, and the thought of what causes it makes Draco salivate. He loves Severus’s cock, its shape and weight and taste.

Severus leans forward and removes Harry’s glasses. Harry blinks. Without the glasses his eyes are so much larger and greener.

‘Wha—?’ he tries hoarsely.

‘Time to undress, Harry,’ Severus says softly. When Harry only blinks again, he laughs. ‘Draco, I believe he needs a little help.’

A thrill runs through Draco at these words. It is not so much about seeing Harry naked as it is about the idea of Severus and him sharing Harry.

Draco cannot help but grin at Harry’s expression. ‘So it would seem,’ he agrees, his voice as hoarse as Harry’s.

‘Wha—?’ Harry tries again, but Draco has grabbed the hem of Harry’s jumper and pulls it up. When the bunched wool reaches Harry’s armpits, Severus takes over and pulls it over Harry’s head. Draco starts tugging on the t-shirt underneath – ugly, shapeless thing – and they repeat the manoeuvre, leaving Harry bare-chested kneeling above Draco. Severus and Draco pause and look at what they have uncovered.

Harry’s chest is almost entirely hairless. Only a few shy curls surround his surprisingly pink nipples. The soft, downy treasure trail begins shortly above his navel. The muscles of chest and stomach are a bit more defined than Draco would have thought, but his shoulders are just as fine as the jumper suggested. Draco lets his eyes wander over the expanse of naked flesh, and then reaches out and trails his fingertips over Harry’s stomach. The muscles underneath tremble and clench.

Severus tosses Harry’s t-shirt aside and reaches out, taking hold of Harry’s shoulders. He pulls him off Draco and onto the bed, eliciting protests, but Severus doesn’t pay them any attention. Instead, he attacks Harry’s shoes.

Draco licks his lips at seeing Harry stretched out next to him, and then mirrors Severus’s earlier caress, kissing Harry’s stomach and softly squeezing the bulge in his jeans. Harry gasps and tries pressing his cock harder into Draco’s hand.

Draco lets his hand slide between Harry’s legs to cup his balls while he devotes himself to kissing and licking every inch of Harry’s chest. Harry’s skin is incredibly soft, so different from Severus’s. He tastes different, too, of course, and Draco delights in discovering the unfamiliar body. He will love doing the same with Harry’s cock.

Then his hand is tugged away from Harry’s crotch. Draco frowns, but Severus doesn’t even look at him as he reaches out and opens Harry’s fly and lowers the zip. He takes hold of the waistband and pulls, divesting Harry of trousers and pants in one swift, smooth move. Harry hisses when his cock springs free, and Draco’s eyes are instantly fixed on the sight.

Harry’s cock is, like his body, only medium sized, but it is, for lack of a better word, pretty. A nice hand- or mouthful, Draco thinks. It rises proudly out of a thick nest of dark curls, slender and pink. Only the round head is coloured deep red. It bobs slightly as Harry breathes in, and Draco is fascinated by the numerous thick veins running down its length. He reaches out to wrap his fingers around it, feel its heat, but his hand is batted away again. Draco growls.

The growl turns into a surprised gasp as he is pushed backwards onto the bed, Severus pinning him down by the shoulders.

‘You, Mr Malfoy, are far too overdressed to be allowed to play,’ Severus says in his deep, smooth bedroom voice – the voice that makes Draco’s cock begin to leak.

‘Severus,’ he moans, and there is that look in Severus’s eyes that makes Draco’s toes curl.

They both move at the same time, Draco reaching out for Severus’s hair to tug him down, and Severus lowering his head, and then they are kissing. It is the first kiss since this started, and Draco pours into it all the emotions he cannot ever express out loud. But Severus understands and kisses him with consuming passion. When he pulls back, Draco is once more close to orgasm.

Severus smiles at him, their private smile, lopsided and lovely. He moves back as his fingers begin to make short work out of the fastenings of Draco’s robes. When they are open, Severus sits up and looks at Harry, who is crouching next to Draco, watching them with a fierce expression.

Severus raises his eyebrows. ‘I could use a little help here.’

His voice is a teasing parody of his classroom voice. Harry blinks at him, then down at Draco, and then grins mischievously. Draco can only moan and writhe in pleasure as these two team up in undressing and caressing him. Hands and lips seem to be everywhere, multiplying even as more and more of Draco’s skin is revealed.

And when his pants are finally gone, it is Harry who wraps his fingers around Draco’s aching cock, squeezing lightly. It’s too light, too little, and Draco whines with need. Then there is a second hand, larger, that closes over Harry’s and squeezes just right, and Draco cries out, ‘Ohhh, f-fuck!’

Harry’s hand jerks and tries to pull back. ‘Uh, sorry,’ he whispers.

‘Nooo, harder!’ Draco bucks his hips. ‘Severus.’

‘Shh. Here, Harry, like this.’

And Severus proceeds to show Harry how he has to touch Draco. Whatever difficulties Harry had learning Potions from Severus, he has no trouble at all learning how to please Draco. There are whispered words and tentative hands that quickly become assertive. Soon, Draco is almost sobbing with pleasure as four hands stroke and fondle and squeeze him. But just when the pleasure becomes almost too much, a vicious hand tugs on his balls. Draco yelps.

‘What? Why?’ he whines. Harry’s face in scrunched up in sympathy. Severus only smirks.

‘Not yet,’ is all he says.

He slides off the bed to shed his trousers. Draco’s pain is instantly forgotten. He surges up and kneels on the bed in front of Severus, and now it is his turn to bat Severus’s hands away. Draco smiles up at his lover’s amused expression.

‘My turn,’ he says, and slowly picks open the knot that ties Severus’s trousers.

Severus runs his fingers through Draco’s hair as Draco works. When the knot comes undone, Draco bends forward. Placing his hands on Severus’s hips, he buries his face in the soft thick hair that creeps up from under the waistband. Severus is so different from Harry. The line of dark hair runs up to his chest where it spreads and circles Severus’s small, brown nipples. Draco likes rubbing his cheeks over the slightly coarser curls and feeling them tickle his skin. He does it now, and feels rather than hears Severus’s low chuckle.

Draco peers up at Severus, all innocence, and then lets the trousers drop. Severus hisses as they brush over his erect cock.

‘Minx,’ he growls at Draco, who bats his eyelashes.

Draco leans back and admires the cock he has freed. Severus, following the cliché of large noses and large wands, is exceptionally well endowed. His cock is long and fat and dark purple with desire, curling into an elegant arch. Draco squirms a little, rubbing his arse over the heels of his feet, remembering the feeling of this huge cock opening his hole and sliding into his body. The delicious pain-pleasure of a slow entry. At the same time, his mouth waters at the almost-feel of Severus’s cock sliding past his lips.

Unconsciously, Draco leans forward and buries his nose in the dark hair surrounding Severus’s prick. He breathes in deeply, smelling musk and Severus. Turning his head slightly, he can rub his cheek along the length of Severus’s cock. The tip leaves a small trace of wetness on his face. Draco smiles dreamily.

A sound like a strangled gasp coming from behind him makes Draco turn his head. Harry has sat up and is perching right behind him. Past Draco’s blond head, his eyes are fixed on Severus’s cock. He looks half-terrified, half-eager. Draco’s smile widens at the expression.

He darts a quick glance up at Severus’s face. The man is watching Harry. Draco grins and then, in one swift motion, sucks Severus as far into his mouth as he can take him. Years of practice have made that a considerable amount.

Severus hisses again, this time with pleasure, which almost drowns Harry’s tiny moan. Draco hums and slides back until only the tip remains in his mouth. He swirls it with his tongue, tasting salty precome, and suckles gently.

Severus’s hands in his hair tighten. His hips jerk forward. Draco closes his eyes in pleasure and lets Severus slide deeper. He alternates sucking and whirling his tongue in time with Severus’s shallow movements. One of his hands finds its way to Severus’s balls and gently cradles them.

And then there is a hot, hard body pressed against Draco’s back and arms reach around his shoulders. An equally hot and hard prick drools down his lower back. Harry’s breath fans over his cheek.

Draco opens his eyes and squints, trying to see what Harry is doing. But all he can see is that Harry’s hands disappear behind Severus’s back, and so he closes his eyes again and concentrates on sucking Severus.

After a few minutes, though, Draco pulls back. Although he has learned to relax his jaw and ignore his gag reflex, Severus’s girth still makes sucking him a tiring endeavour. Draco regrets this deeply. He likes sucking cock, and never being able to give Severus a real blowjob frustrates him. Perhaps, he thinks suddenly, he can do it with Harry’s help, alternating until Severus comes. The thought makes Draco’s cock jump.

After a last, satisfied glance at Severus’s purple prick, glistening with saliva, Draco turns around to face Harry, about to share his idea. Harry perches so close behind him that their faces brush, noses bumping into each other. Harry instantly moves back with a nervous giggle but Draco won’t let him retreat, closing the distance between them again. He kisses Harry, hard, and Harry reciprocates enthusiastically.

There is a hand on Draco’s shoulder, pushing him gently but persistently to lie down on the bed. Draco ends the kiss and shakes his head, not willing to give up his fantasy. He takes Harry’s hand and brings it up to Severus’s cock.

‘Touch him,’ he breathes into Harry’s ear.

Harry licks his lips. His eyes dart from his fingers around the hot prick up to Severus’s face. He blinks, cocks his head, and then squeezes. Severus gives a strangled groan, and Draco can see the hint of a smirk on Harry’s kiss-bruised lips.

Wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist, Draco comfortably sits back. For a while, he watches Harry stroke Severus. Harry turns out to be a good student. He is quick in noticing what Severus likes and what drives him wild. He uses both hands and, after a short hesitation, he leans forward and touches his lips to Severus’s cock.

Severus’s shoulders rise in a deep sigh. Draco smiles, pleased with both men, and even more pleased when Harry begins sucking Severus clumsily. This much complaisance deserves a reward, Draco thinks, and reaches for Harry’s cock. He brushes his thumb over the smooth head, gathering the drop of moisture that pools there, and slides his hand down the length in a firm grip. Harry’s hips move up into the stroke.

Suddenly, Severus gives a sharp hiss and Harry jerks back.

‘Teeth,’ snaps Severus. Harry flushes bright red and looks away, shoulders slumped. He looks so dejected that Draco barely feels a sudden flush of smug superiority but the need to comfort Harry, and so he leans in and kisses him softly.

‘Don’t worry, Harry,’ he soothes. ‘It’s not easy with him. You’ll get better in time.’

Some part of his mind shrieks at him for comforting an enemy and demands, enraged, what he means by “in time”. But Draco is good at Occlumency. He smiles at Harry, and as he leans back, Severus swoops in and kisses Harry as well.

‘Now, onto the bed,’ he commands when he ends the kiss. ‘Both of you, up!’

The two young men scramble to obey, moving into the middle of the bed and looking at Severus questioningly. He crawls after them and gestures.

‘Lie down, Harry. On your back.’

Harry exchanges a glance with Draco and does as he is told. He looks faintly worried. Draco wonders, at the predatory look in Severus’s eyes, whether he might be on to something. But all is forgotten once Harry is stretched out on his back. Draco’s eyes are drawn irresistibly to Harry’s slender, pink prick.

‘Go on,’ Severus whispers in his ear. ‘Do it. I know how much you want Harry’s cock. Lick it, suck it, play with it. Use your tongue. Suck on his balls. Drive him wild, Draco.’

And Draco does just that. Within the blink of an eye, he is kneeling between Harry’s legs and has Harry’s pretty cock in his mouth. He is so used to Severus that Harry is no problem for him, and to his delight he finds out he can swallow Harry whole. Nose buried in Harry’s pubic hair, he hums with pleasure, and above him Harry all but shrieks. Draco looks up, grinning around his mouthful. Harry is half propped up on his elbows and he is gaping down at Draco, who winks and goes back to do what Severus told him.

He does so with great thoroughness. He licks and sucks and uses his tongue. He ignores the cock in favour of playing with Harry’s slightly furred balls, rolling them between his fingers and then sucking them into his mouth. At one point, he has to grab Harry’s hips to keep him from crushing Draco’s nose. Harry sobs and gasps and twists.

And then Draco begins to gasp and twist as well. Severus has stopped caressing his back and kneading his arse. He has pulled Draco’s arsecheeks apart and buried his nose in the crack. Draco knows and anticipates what will follow, and he is right. Severus draws his tongue from Draco’s perineum up to the rosy, puckered hole where he stops and demonstrates that his tongue is as talented as Draco’s. He licks until Draco is shivering with bliss, and then presses the tip of his tongue inside.

Draco whimpers around Harry’s cock, eliciting a drawn-out moan from him. Harry’s hands have tangled in Draco’s hair and he is raking his nails over Draco’s scalp. It feels amazingly good. Draco arches like a cat. Then a finger enters his arse and twists, and Draco yowls like a tom in heat.

‘Draco? What …?’ Harry asks, blinking.

Draco shakes his head, unable to answer.

‘Prostate,’ Severus purrs and crooks his finger again.

‘Oh … oh, fuck, Severus …’ Draco gasps out.

‘Hmm?’ Severus withdraws his finger.

‘No, please, again!’ Draco cries out.

‘Again? Like this?’

And Draco’s eyes cross as Severus rubs two fingers over the sensitive gland. The sting from the unprepared entry fades in the bliss of Severus moving his fingers. He cries out when the fingers vanish.

‘Don’t stop, Severus, please. Please!’

Severus kisses both of Draco’s quivering cheeks. ‘Why don’t you show Harry how nice it feels?’ he suggests. ‘He looks a bit doubtful.’

Draco squints up at Harry, who is indeed watching them with a doubtful expression on his face.

‘Um,’ he says and flushes bright red. ‘He’s got his finger in … uh …’

‘Up his arse, yes,’ Severus agrees conversationally. Draco chokes on a laugh and Harry’s blush deepens.

‘Um,’ he says again, wriggling his hips in Draco’s grip.

Draco can almost hear Harry think about ending this, about drawing back, but Draco doesn’t want to stop. He feels a strange kind of tenderness towards Harry and a wish to help him.

‘Scared?’ Draco taunts him, but not unkindly. Predictably, Harry’s jaw tightens and a determined look replaces the worry. He lies back and stops wriggling, but he is stiff and unresponsive.

‘Ever the martyr,’ Draco chuckles, and before Harry can answer, he has swallowed his cock again. It doesn’t take long before Harry has relaxed and doesn’t even flinch when Draco slips one finger between his cheeks and circles his hole. He pulls the finger back, wets it with his saliva, and searches for Harry’s arsehole again. He gently rubs it and then slowly, carefully pushes the finger in.

Harry starts and clenches. Draco hums a reproach and Harry unconsciously relaxes. Gradually, Draco works his finger in, keeping Harry distracted by sucking him down hard. It takes all of Draco’s concentration to coordinate the movements of mouth and finger. Harry is very tight and very hot inside. Draco’s prick leaps in eagerness.

When Draco can move his finger easily inside of Harry, he begins feeling for his prostate. He crooks and twists his finger, which makes Harry aware of what he is doing. He is beginning to tense again when Draco finds the spot and rubs his fingertip over it.

The sound Harry makes is indescribable, a mixture of yelp, sob and curse. His whole body spasms only to melt in the next moment. Draco feels incredibly proud of himself and moves his finger again. Harry writhes and bucks his hips up, forcing his cock deeper down Draco’s throat. Draco feels like laughing out loud. He pulls back, letting Harry’s cock slip out of his mouth, and grins smugly at his former rival.

‘I think he likes it,’ he says in his best imitation of Severus’s purr.

‘Very good,’ Severus replies softly.

And then the fingers are back at Draco’s arse, slippery and warmly wet. Severus has retrieved the lube from his bedside locker. His fingers push inside, stretching Draco. Draco moans and pushes back against Severus’s fingers. He hopes Severus will fuck him. Although, he thinks with a jolt, he wouldn’t mind Harry fucking him, either.

‘Severus …’ he begins, craning his neck to look over his shoulder.

The small jar of lube is pushed at him.

‘Use it,’ Severus says so softly Harry won’t hear him. ‘He needs it.’

Draco has to prop himself up on one elbow to take the jar. He casts a questioning glance at his lover and then another one at his other lover. Harry’s eyes are closed. Sweat plasters his fringe to his brow, hiding the scar. His expression is of stunned delight. Draco’s eyes widen as things click into place.

‘Harry? This is … You haven’t done this before?’ he asks incredulously.

Harry blinks at him and it takes a while until his eyes clear.

‘Huh?’

‘Draco, don’t,’ warns Severus from behind him.

‘Harry?’ Draco insists. ‘You’re a virgin?’

Harry frowns. His eyes dart from Draco to Severus and then back. ‘Is … is that a problem?’

Draco can feel his jaw drop. A dozen or more reasons dart through his mind why this isn’t a good idea, why Harry shouldn’t be here with them, why Harry can’t be a virgin. A sudden pinch in his bum interrupts his thoughts.

‘No, Harry,’ Severus says softly. ‘Not if you want this.’

Harry looks steadily at Severus. ‘I do,’ he says calmly.

Draco studies his expression, and then twists his body until he can look at Severus. The man is gazing down at Harry, holding the green eyes. There is a certain wistfulness in his expression. Draco realises that Severus must have known that Harry is a virgin. He also realises that this is what Severus wants, what both he and Harry want: Severus to fuck Harry. Draco feels a pang; he is not really needed or wanted here. But then he realises something else, and his feeling of being unwanted changes to gratitude and love.

Severus wants to fuck Harry. He wants to be Harry’s first. But he can’t be. He is too large. He is likely to hurt Harry, who is inexperienced. Draco remembers well his first time with Severus. He wasn’t Draco’s first, but it still wasn’t easy for Draco to take him. And as much as Severus wants to be Harry’s first, he will let him experience this with Draco, who isn’t as long or as thick and therefore less likely to hurt Harry. He will give up being Harry’s first so that Harry can experience the act without pain; so that he can feel how good it can be.

Draco’s heart clenches with love for this man. It’s things like these that show how much Severus cares when he lets himself. It shows how much he cares for Harry, much more than Draco would have thought. But this time, Draco doesn’t feel jealous or unwanted. He feels honoured and pleased that Severus is willing to give something he wants so much to Draco.

Draco pulls back from Harry, eliciting a wince when he pulls his finger free, and leans back, twisting slightly, to kiss Severus. He flings one arm around the man’s neck and presses up and into Severus’s body and the kiss. Severus doesn’t react at first, surprised. Then his lips soften and he kisses back. And for the moment, it is only the two of them until Draco leans back, ending the kiss.

‘Thank you,’ he whispers against Severus’s lips, smiling tremulously. ‘I’ll show him how good it can be. I’ll make him want you.’

A slight shudder runs through Severus’s body, and he claims another quick kiss. The two men look at each other for a moment, then Draco turns back to Harry. And finds the other young man watching them with an attentive expression on his face as though he knows something important has been decided, even though he doesn’t know what it is. Draco smiles at him and, after a moment, Harry smiles back.

Draco crawls forward until he can kiss Harry, which he does.

‘I’m going to fuck you, Harry,’ he whispers in Harry’s ear. ‘I’m going to make you scream with pleasure you haven’t even dreamt of.’

‘Stop bragging and do it,’ Harry whispers back.

Draco chuckles. ‘Who would have thought it? The great Harry Potter, begging me to fuck him!’

Harry stretches lazily. ‘Pfft. That was an order.’

They grin at each other and then Draco moves back down. Coating two fingers liberally with lube, he settles back between Harry’s thighs. He winks at Harry, grips his cock with one hand and wraps his lips around it once more, while the other hand travels further to Harry’s entrance. He slips one finger in, finds Harry still relaxed and open, and inserts the second finger. This takes some time and Harry winces once or twice, but he never asks Draco to stop.

Behind his back, Severus gives a low, approving sound and returns to his task of preparing Draco.

When Draco can move and scissor his fingers easily within Harry, he looks up, regretfully letting the cock slide out of his mouth. Inwardly, he promises himself that one day he will give Harry a proper blowjob, and that another day – perhaps – he and Draco will do the same for Severus.

‘Harry?’ he asks.

The hint of a smirk is back around Harry’s lips. ‘If you ask me for permission, Draco, I will hex you.’

Draco laughs breathlessly. His own cock, neglected, has drooped a little, but now it perks up. Draco gives it a few, encouraging strokes as he sits up. The movement makes Severus withdraw his fingers and lean forward so that he can look over Draco’s shoulder. Reaching out, he picks up the little jar and scoops up a hefty dollop.

‘Hands off,’ he tells Draco, who complies with a soft moan. Severus then proceeds to slather Draco’s cock with lube. When he is satisfied, he urges Draco to use some more on Harry, and then he leans back with a nod to Draco.

Draco bites his lip and inches forward between Harry’s thighs. ‘It would be easier if you faced the other way,’ he mumbles.

Harry shakes his head, and Severus says, ‘No, this way.’

Draco nods, grips his cock and lines it up with Harry’s glistening, stretched hole. It is not the first time he has been on top, and he doubts it is the first time he has had deflowered someone either. But under the frank, trusting green of Harry’s eyes, he is incredibly nervous.

A hand touches his shoulder. Harry smiles. Draco presses forward.

He sinks slowly into this incredible heat and tightness. It’s so tight, he is sure it can’t work. He must be hurting Harry, but there is no resistance. Harry’s muscles around him clench from time to time, but relax again almost immediately. Harry never hisses in pain, and his face looks more concentrated than pained. Then he jerks and cries out as his eyes fly open.

‘Bloody … fuck …’

Draco groans and shoves the remaining inches inside. When his balls touch Harry’s thighs, he leans forward, resting his forehead on Harry’s shoulder. After a deep breath, he slowly pulls out, and then pushes in again. Harry bucks his hips and swears again.

‘You all right?’ Draco manages.

‘Keep moving,’ Harry growls. His face is twisted but Draco resumes it must be lust. ‘You’re … fuck, yes! There! You’re hitting the right spot.’

‘Good,’ Draco gasps out. He pulls back and then slams into Harry, making him scream and grab at Draco’s shoulders. Draco groans and does it again. And again. And again.

Then, hands grab his hips and stop him. He whimpers but Severus keeps him still.

‘What…?’

‘What do you think, Draco?’

Draco’s eyes roll back. He never even thought how this would work, or that Severus would fuck him while he fucks Harry.

Severus shoves him forward, deeper into Harry, making both young men moan. Then Draco feels Severus’s fingers probe his entrance. The fingers are soon replaced by something much thicker and hotter. Draco gasps and swears as Severus inches into him.

‘Push up on your arms,’ Severus rasps. ‘You’ll be crushing Harry.’

Draco struggles to get up. He almost hasn’t enough strength left, but manages to prop himself up. He glances at Harry’s face and moans softly. Harry is rapturously watching Severus’s face over Draco’s shoulder.

Severus begins to move. He withdraws slightly, then his hips snap forward, pushing his cock deeper into Draco and Draco into Harry. All three of them gasp. Harry bucks up into Draco who moves back against Severus who pushes all three of them forwards again. Soon, they find a rhythm, moving with and against each other.

The room is filled with the sounds of movement; flesh slaps against flesh, bedding rustles, and the bedsprings creak in quiet protest. There are more sounds, moans and wails and shouted ‘Fuck!’s. Unnoticed by the three on the bed, the Silencing Charm in the wards glows into life.

Draco trembles against Harry as Severus tightens his hold on Draco’s hips and thrusts harder. He can’t groan anymore. The pleasure is too intense for words as he is caught between Harry’s tightness and Severus’s strength. His thought processes have long since shut down, so he doesn’t understand at first when Harry begins tugging on one of his hands that are pressed into the mattress on both sides of Harry’s shoulders.

When the tugging persists, Draco opens his eyes. Harry is staring intently at him and mouths his name. Draco gives in, leans down so he can support himself with his elbows – the changed angle makes all three of them gasp – and leaves Harry in possession of his hand. Harry entwines their fingers and holds onto Draco’s hand for dear life.

Draco tries to muster a smile for the sentimental Gryffindor, but just then Severus hits his prostate, and for the next couple of seconds all that Draco is aware of are the stars in front of his eyes. He gasps for air and tries to say Severus’s name when he does it again. Draco keens, head thrown back.

With Severus’s next thrust, Draco’s head snaps forward again, and Draco notices that Harry’s other hand is gripping one of Severus. Gryffindor. Holding hands during sex. This time, Draco manages a smile as he looks down into Harry’s face.

Harry’s green eyes are almost impossibly wide, but Draco doubts he sees anything. He looks dazed and very close. Draco angles his hips so that he might hit Harry’s prostate again. Severus’s thrust makes the move almost bruising. Harry tips his head back and screams, and for a split second, Draco is worried, but then something wet splatters against his stomach and shoots up Harry’s chest, and the muscles around Draco’s cock spasm as Harry comes, almost untouched save the occasional slide of Draco’s stomach over his cock.

Severus gives a strangled sound and thrusts once, twice, thrice, then grunts, and Draco feels hot seed fill him. He shivers and shatters with a silent scream.

They fall down in a graceless heap, panting and gasping, too weak to do more than try to breathe for the moment.

Draco is already half asleep when Severus nudges him. ‘Draco, move. You’re crushing Harry.’

Draco mumbles something unintelligible and slides off Harry’s sweaty body. Harry stares up at Severus with a goofy smile.

‘Hn,’ he says.

Severus finds air to chuckle. ‘Indeed.’

It is Harry who casts the cleaning spell on them a little later while Severus checks the wards. Then they fall down onto the bed and, with a lot of wriggling and groaning and swearing, manage to get under the covers. Draco ends up in the middle which, he decides fuzzily, isn’t right. Mustering his feeble strength, he slides over Harry and, snuggling up against Harry’s back, he buries his face in Harry’s shaggy hair. Lifting an arm isn’t easy, but he gets it up so that he can wrap it around both Harry’s and Severus’s waist.

‘Hmm,’ agrees Harry and nestles deeper into the two bodies surrounding him.

Severus brushes a kiss over Draco’s palm, settles his hand on his hip, and extends his own arm to encircle Harry and Draco.

As he drifts off, Draco thinks of all the times he and his friends have discussed threesomes. What they had always all agreed on was that having a threesome meant that two lovers shared another person. Blurrily, Draco wonders who shared who with whom just now.

~*~

Draco wakes to the sound of kissing and to Harry’s arse wriggling deliciously against his hardening cock. Reflexively, he starts moving his hips, thrusting against the warm body next to him.

‘Hmmm,’ he hears Harry moan, and then a hand he recognises as Severus’s gropes his left buttock.

‘Finally up, Draco?’ Severus’s voice rumbles.

Harry wriggles some more. ‘Uh-huh, definitely up.’

Sleepily, Draco blinks his eyes open. At first, he can only see messy black. It takes a while until he realises that’s because his face is pressed against Harry’s back. He pulls back and turns his head so that he can peer past Harry’s shoulder at Severus. The room is lit by the last rays of the setting sun, and Draco can only dimly see Severus. It is light enough, though, to see the other man’s mussed up hair. The sight makes Draco grin, although he knows his can’t look much better. Here, Harry is distinctly at an advantage: his hair always looks as if he’s just crawled out of bed.

Severus smirks at Draco before he goes back to kissing Harry. Draco can hear the wet, slurping sound of their tongues twining. He feels Severus’s hand caressing Harry’s flank. Instead of making him jealous it makes him horny. Propping himself up on one elbow, he pulls the covers aside and watches his two lovers – lovers! – kiss for a while. Harry’s hips are undulating, rubbing against both Severus and Draco. It’s an incredibly good feeling, Draco decides, and lies back.

He snuggles closer to Harry and begins kissing Harry’s neck and shoulder. Sucking on Harry’s pulse makes him buck back into Draco, and biting down on the muscle where shoulder and neck meet makes him groan. Draco continues suckling the spot, laving it with his tongue and brushing it with his lips. Soon, Harry is writhing between him and Severus, and Draco congratulates himself for having found Harry’s sweet spot.

They lie like this for a while, Severus and Draco kissing and stroking Harry, making the dark-haired young man gasp and whimper. Then Severus is moving, and Draco pulls back reluctantly to wait and see what Severus has planned this time.

He is a bit surprised as Severus pushes a slightly resisting Harry to turn over to face Draco. Then he sees Severus grab Harry’s waist and pull him back forcefully until Harry’s arse is pressed against Severus’s erection. Draco’s eyes widen and dart up to Severus’s face. Black eyes meet his. A connection is made, a wordless message is passed, and Draco nods.

He scoots closer to Harry until they lie chest to chest and cock to cock and lips to lips. Draco kisses Harry slowly, languidly, but soon Harry takes control of the kiss and intensifies the heat until they are both panting and thrusting against each other.

Harry’s breath suddenly hitches. His hips twitch. Severus murmurs something against his neck, and Harry exhales a long breath. Draco swallows it, giving Harry a soft moan back. Harry jerks and breaks the kiss, gasping loudly into Draco’s ear. Draco leans back to look at Harry and smiles when he sees the expression of surprised bliss glaze the green eyes.

‘Prostate?’ he whispers against Harry’s lips.

Harry moans and his eyes roll back. His lips quiver, trying to form a word, a name. Draco kisses the name off Harry’s lips. His reward is a whined, ‘Draco!’ when he slides from Harry’s mouth to his chest. Harry’s pink nipples beckon him. He had not paid them sufficient attention earlier and he’s determined to change that now. Harry trembles and sobs as Draco licks and sucks his nipples into hardness, twists and rolls them between fingers and gently chews on them.

When Draco is satisfied with the bruised look of Harry’s nipples, he slowly kisses and nips his way down Harry’s stomach to the erect, bobbing cock begging and weeping for touch. Draco smiles lovingly down at the pretty prick and enfolds it gently in his hands. He relishes the hardness and heat against his palms. The strong veins throb faintly under his touch. Draco lowers his head and swipes his tongue over the red head, tasting the drop of precome. Salty, tangy, and so different from Severus.

Harry thrusts impatiently into Draco’s hands and then pushes equally impatiently back. Draco slides further down between Harry’s legs, letting go of Harry’s cock to gather his balls in one hand. They feel tight and hard. Harry yelps and his hips surge forwards, up, and Draco sees three of Severus’s fingers slide into Harry’s stretched hole. He licks his lips at the sight.

A soft double moan makes him look up. Harry is peering down at him, face flushed, lips open, panting. Over Harry’s shoulder Draco sees Severus watching him, equally flushed and panting. Draco smirks at them both and returns his attention to Harry’s cock.

Gently, he wraps his lips around the soft head, careful of his teeth, and then slides down. For a second, his gag reflex kicks in and he has to pause, taking a deep breath, before he can swallow Harry whole. The taste and feel of cock filling his mouth and throat is heavenly. Draco squirms against the sheets, searching for friction for his own leaking cock.

Above him, Harry suddenly hisses and jerks, back arching. Severus strangles a groan.

Draco’s lips twitch but he can’t smile. He brushes one finger over Harry’s perineum and back, and huffs through his nose when he feels Severus’s fat cock breeching Harry.

Harry hisses again and the cock in Draco’s mouth suddenly wilts. Draco peers up at Harry’s face. Yes, he is obviously in pain and needs a distraction. So, Draco begins to distract Harry with determined thoroughness. He sucks and licks Harry’s cock, presses his tongue against the spot under the head, then twirls it swiftly around and up and down the shaft. His fingers stroke Harry’s perineum, pressing up now and then to stimulate Harry’s prostate from the outside. Harry wails and thrashes under the double assault.

‘Ohh … oh, Merlin, God and all his Saints,’ groans Severus. ‘Draco!’

Draco blinks innocently up at his two dark-haired lovers and winks before increasing his efforts. Harry whimpers, and when Draco’s fingers trail down further to his hole he feels it stretched and hot around almost the entire length of Severus’s cock. Fascinated, he pulls back from sucking Harry to distraction and glances down. Under his amazed eyes, Severus keeps pushing in and in and in, until he is fully sheathed inside.

A shiver shakes Harry’s slender body. His breath is shallow and fast. ‘Oh … oh, Se— Ohhh,’ he all but sobs.

Severus’s voice sounds pressed. ‘Shhh, relax, don’t mo— Harry!’

Harry has twisted his hips ever so slightly. Draco caresses Harry’s trembling thigh and watches Severus withdraw slowly and thrust back in. Harry’s mouth opens in a wordless scream.

But not in pain, Draco quickly reassures himself. Harry’s face is scrunched up and his eyes squeezed close but his cock is still hard. It droops a bit under Draco’s eyes and he swoops back down.

Sucking Harry while Severus fucks him is a breathtaking experience. Draco hears Severus’s half-moans and hisses, feels the rhythm of his thrusts but not inside his body. It creates a weird kind of intimacy, of connection because Draco knows the sensation, can remember them so well that he knows what Harry feels, making Draco feel Severus is fucking them both at the same time. And Harry’s cock in his mouth heightens Draco’s pleasure immeasurably; in the same way weird way, he feels connected to Severus, as though he is sucking him, too.

The thought of sucking Severus while he fucks Harry gives Draco an idea. Slowly, he pulls off Harry’s cock. Replacing his mouth with his hand, he keeps up a lazily stroke while he first mouths the furry balls before he slides back even further, deeper between Harry’s thighs. He has to crane his neck at an uncomfortable angle, but Draco doesn’t mind at all as he trails his tongue over Harry’s perineum and then over the exposed length of Severus’s cock.

Severus moans and stills, giving Draco the opportunity to flick the tip of his tongue over the hard, hot flesh of Severus’s cock, the knobby edge of Harry’s hole, and the softer skin of Harry’s arse. Harry gasps and grabs Draco’s head, and Draco licks and licks until his tongue aches. Reluctantly, he pulls back, kissing first Severus’s, then Harry’s thigh.

‘Draco,’ rasps Harry, ‘You … you … That was …’

Draco, breathless with triumph and desire, quirks an eyebrow. ‘Yes?’

‘You … That …’ Harry’s lids fall close. ‘Fucking hot. You … Oh, fuck, Severus!’

Severus is thrusting again. The knuckles of his fingers gripping Harry’s hips have turned white. Draco can’t see his face but he imagines Severus’s lips pressed close to prevent his moans from spilling and his eyes squeezed shut so that no one can see the expression in the black depths. He is very close to losing control entirely, something that has happened only once or twice before, and Draco’s heart thrills at the thought that he almost did it again. He smiles and wonders if, perhaps, he might still manage.

With a mischievous grin, he returns to Harry’s cock. He lets his imagination run wild and does all the things to Harry he has always dreamt of doing to Severus. It soon reduces Harry to a quivering, sobbing mess. Draco has to take care that Harry’s thrashing legs don’t hurt him. But he can hear Severus cursing softly with every thrust and decides only a little more is needed, so he risks Harry kicking him and slips one hand between their legs to cup Severus’s balls.

It triggers a long moan and Draco redoubles his efforts on both Harry and Severus, sucking and fondling, and then Harry screams and Draco is swallowing and Severus shouts and the balls in Draco’s hand tighten and pull up and then Severus is shooting his load into Harry’s arse. Some of it trickles back, and Draco scoops it up with one finger and pops the finger into his mouth, tasting the difference between Severus and Harry. He sighs happily.

When Severus pulls out and flops back onto the bed, Draco crawls up to kiss him. Severus brushes his cheek but it is clear he is utterly exhausted. Draco slides over to Harry and kisses him as well. Harry is a bit more responsive but not much. Draco sighs and lies down next to Harry. He curls up into the other young man’s side, pressing his by now aching cock into Harry’s hip and listens to his two lovers trying to catch their breath.

After a while, Harry turns his head and with his eyes still closed seeks Draco’s lips. They kiss again, this time languidly while all Draco wants is passion. He pushes a little closer and whines, tugging Harry’s hand to his cock. Harry pulls back, opening his eyes, and peers myopically first at Draco’s face and then down at Draco’s erect, weeping cock.

A heartbeat later, he has sat up, and after another, Harry is crouching between Draco’s legs and wraps one hand around Draco’s cock, making him moan with pleasure. Harry once more proves that he has been paying attention to Severus’s earlier lesson. Draco writhes and bucks his hips and cries out in protest when Harry stops.

‘Harry …’ he whines. ‘Don’t stop, please! Please, more, I … please!’

He can faintly see Harry’s smirk, but the other man doesn’t look up, apparently studying Draco’s cock. Draco peers down at it as well. It is almost purple with need in Harry’s strong hands, the head leaking continuously. Harry slowly strokes his hand up and down, then takes a deep breath and lowers his head. Draco sobs and throws his head back when Harry starts sucking him.

Draco is already so far gone that not much is needed to bring him off, but he does notice that Harry has not only been paying attention to Severus’s lesson. He is awkward and too forceful, but he copies a number of Draco’s tricks fairly well.

‘Oh … Oh, ah, f— Harry! Harry!’

And then he is coming, down Harry’s throat and, when he jerks back, startled, over Harry’s face, and the sight is so erotic Draco almost passes out.

From seemingly far away he can hear bedding rustle, and through half-slitted eyes he can see Harry cleaning his face on a sheet.

‘Heathen,’ rumbles Severus deep voice close to Draco’s ear. Harry grins, shrugs, and flops down next to Draco, wriggling closer.

‘Okay?’ he asks Draco a little shyly.

Draco can only pant.

Severus chuckles, then yawns. ‘Harry, you made him scream. It was more than okay.’

‘Hn,’ Draco agrees.

‘Hmhm. How did you manage that, Harry?’ Severus asks as he fumbles the covers back over them.

‘Stole … my … tricks,’ Draco gasps out.

‘Indeed?’ Severus is so tired he is slurring his words. ‘Must’ve been impressive.’

Harry breathes a kiss onto Draco’s ear. ‘I learnt from the best.’

‘Hn,’ agrees Severus.

And then they sleep, deep and dreamless and in peace, through the night.

~*~

This time, it is the murmur of soft voices that wakes Draco. Slowly, he drifts towards wakefulness as the words wash over him. He knows the voices but he doesn’t understand what they say and doesn’t try to. He is content for now to simply drift in the soft space between sleeping and waking.

Scraps of conversation filter through the haze of sleep.

‘— be careful with it.’

‘I expect you to.’

‘Or else?’

‘Or else.’

‘Promise?’

The voices cease to a soft hum. Draco buries his face into the pillow and breathes in deeply. The scent of musk and soap and Harry and Severus and love fills his nose.

‘— quite what you expected, was he?’

‘If you hadn’t been poking around in my head without my permission you wouldn’t even know I expected anything at all.’

‘And it would have been a pity.’

‘Hmph.’

‘Don’t you agree with me?’

‘Hah, I’ll be the one who has to explain to Ron and Hermione why I’m walking funnily.’

The deep laugh that follows is quiet and brushes over Draco’s naked skin like a caress. He stretches lazily. The haze of sleep is rolling back, though, pierced by names that make Draco uneasy.

‘— him to be so … so different, you know.’

‘You know him very little.’

‘Yeah. I’m beginning to see that. But …’

‘Yes?’

‘I like that.’

‘So do I.’

Draco smiles and opens his heavy lids. Turning his head on the pillow, he sees the two shadowed shapes of his lovers in front of the open window. Beyond the curtains, the world is bathed in the clear blue light of early morning.

‘I’d better go,’ says the voice he now recognises as Harry’s.

Severus’s shadow nods. He brings up both hands and cups the shadow of Harry’s face in his palms. ‘Good luck,’ he whispers and leans down.

The two shadows melt into each other and stay that way for long moments. Finally, the smaller one draws back.

‘You too,’ Harry whispers. ‘Both of you.’

He steps back from Severus and turns to the window. With quick movements, he has climbed up onto the windowsill and has swung his legs outside. Turning, he grabs the frame with his hands and jumps. Severus steps up to the window and looks down. The shadow of Harry’s hands clinging to the window frame vanishes. There are a number of muffled, scraping sounds, and finally a dull thud.

Draco frowns and wakes up entirely. Did Harry just climb out of the window? Quickly, Draco throws the covers back and slides out of bed, crossing the room and coming to stand behind Severus. Peering over his shoulder, Draco sees the dark form of Harry sprinting over the lawn towards the hedge bordering the grounds.

Draco wraps his arms around Severus’s naked waist, and together they watch as Harry reaches the hedge, stops, and turns back towards the house. For a moment, the rising sun glints on his spectacles. Draco knows he is looking back and seeing them, the fair head next to the dark one, at the window. He knows, because even though he can’t see Harry very well he can feel the green eyes on him. Harry raises a hand in a greeting and then vanishes through the hedge.

Neither Severus nor Draco moves even though the chilly morning air drifts through the window, covering their naked skin in goose bumps. Draco is resting his chin on Severus’s shoulder.

‘What are we going to tell them?’ he finally asks.

Severus gives an almost imperceptible shrug.

‘You’re helping him, aren’t you?’ Draco continues. His voice is soft, almost without inflection. Because now, it doesn’t matter anymore. ‘Dumbledore was right, wasn’t he? You’re working for him.’

Severus doesn’t answer and Draco doesn’t press him. Really, it doesn’t matter whom Severus is working for. He will do whatever is necessary to survive, and he will do whatever he can to make sure Draco survives as well. That is all Draco needs to know. He can trust Severus in that. He had forgotten that earlier.

What is new though, after tonight, is Draco’s knowledge that Severus will do whatever he can to keep Harry Potter alive too. Only yesterday this knowledge would have made him jealous and afraid to be left out, once more being less important than Potter. Now, he feels strangely reassured and a little curious, but more about the relationship between Severus and Harry than about Severus’s motives. Perhaps he is doing it out of some obligation, or because he made a Vow to Dumbledore, but Draco thinks Severus does it because he wants to, because he cares for Harry. It is his own free choice.

And isn’t that what Slytherin teaches? To make sure that what you chose is the right way? Blind loyalty is for Hufflepuffs. And perhaps Gryffindor idiots. Slytherin is about winning and getting what you want. Once, the Dark Lord was what Severus wanted, what Draco wanted. Recognition and power. Not bad goals, but the Dark Lord is clearly not the way to achieve those. Only a fool would follow that road any further after a way out had presented itself.

Severus is not a fool. Draco likes to think he isn’t one, either. Not now. Not ever again.

He will not sit still like the rabbit in front of the snake, terrified. There has to be something he can do to make sure he gets what he wants. And although he cannot be sure what it is that Severus wants now, he has the distinct feeling their goals aren’t so very different. And he knows what he, himself, wants: survival. Severus. Harry. In bed. With him. Free and safe and loved and … together. Like last night.

Last night. An epiphany clad in the disguise of his way out of the Dark Lord’s clutches.

He took an unprejudiced look at Harry and suddenly saw what had been there for a long, long time, ignored and denied: he wants Harry. The admission has loosened something inside of him. He feels freer, lighter than before.

Draco shivers and unconsciously presses closer to Severus. He can now admit that much of the jealousy he had felt for Harry at school was due to the rejection of his hand, and of consequently seeing Harry happy with others. He had never before been denied anything, and to suddenly lose something he did not even know was so precious had hurt. He had dealt with the hurt in the only way he had known how.

He can admit now that many of his actions towards Potter in their later school-years were fuelled by his desire for the other boy and his desperate attempts to both hide and deny it. It had become easier when he’d learnt Occlumency.

And he can now admit that there is a reason why he knows Harry so well that he can tell merely from the way he moves what the other is feeling.

An epiphany indeed. And Severus, the Slytherin, has taken advantage of it.

Draco smiles and brushes a kiss over Severus’s neck. Over his shoulder, he watches the rising sun colouring the blue morning pink.

The scream of a peacock breaks Draco’s peaceful contemplation. He shudders, suddenly realising that he is standing stark naked in front of an open window early in the morning. It’s damned cold.

‘We’d better get back to bed,’ he whispers in Severus’s ear. ‘There’s still some time until we have to go down and let the others know our prisoner is gone. Perhaps the omnipotent Granger can help as excuse.’

Severus doesn’t react, doesn’t answer. Draco leans forward to peer at Severus’s face. The expression in his dark eyes takes Draco’s breath away. Severus is still staring at the spot where Harry vanished with eyes so haunted as though he has just sent Harry off to his death. Reflexively, Draco’s arms tighten.

‘Severus?’

A shudder runs through Severus’s body and he slumps against Draco, closing his eyes. ‘It is … nothing,’ he says tonelessly.

Draco shakes his head, worried and a little afraid. This isn’t nothing. But it’s not something that ought to be discussed in front of an open window, either.

‘Come back to bed, Severus.’

Draco gently tugs his lover back to bed, and then they huddle close together under the covers, shivering. Severus’s face is ashen in the pale morning light. With a sudden, icy pang Draco wonders whether Severus has just done that, sent Harry off to death. Were these the Dark Lord’s orders? Pretend to help Harry and lure him into a trap that would result in getting him killed?

No, Draco tells himself firmly. Severus wants Harry to survive. He is sure of that. But there is something that Severus isn’t telling him, something between him and Harry that Draco doesn’t know about, something more, or different, than their collaboration to kill the Dark Lord. The thought makes Draco’s emotions that seemed so clear only moments ago blur again into a mix of hurt, jealousy, love and insecurity. And fear.

After a while, he dares to ask, ‘Are you worried about Po— Harry?’

Severus takes a deep breath, eyes closed. ‘There is nothing I can do.’

Draco shivers, not from cold this time, at the tone of his voice. He sounds hopeless and resigned. Fear clutches Draco, overpowering all other emotions. It’s his old, paralysing fear of the Dark Lord and what he might do to Draco and Severus. And now Harry, too. The restraints that had loosened last night tighten again until he almost can’t breathe, added and strengthened by the new fear for Harry.

He tries to think of something to say, something comforting or encouraging, for Severus’s sake as much as his own, but there is nothing. Potter – Harry – is out there to try and kill the Dark Lord. Draco buries his face against Severus’s shoulder.

He is more afraid than he can ever remember being.

~*~

Four months later Draco is remembering that night. When everything is over and he and Severus are sitting under heavy Auror guard in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. And he thinks of that night because there is the same, haunted look in Severus’s eyes as he sits, slumped, still and silent, next to Draco at the Slytherin table.

Severus’s icy fingers are clenched around Draco’s in a vice-like grip.

A little further down the table sit Draco’s parents. It is heartbreaking to see Lucius, who has lost contact with reality entirely and thinks he is a schoolboy. In all manners of a teenaged boy, he tries to flirt with the girl he keeps calling Narcissa Black. Draco looks away from them. He can’t bear the expression on his mother’s face.

Around them, there is sound and movement. People in all kinds of clothes, from dress-robes to pyjamas, are milling about, talking and laughing and crying. Celebrating. The Dark Lord is dead, for good this time. The Chosen One fulfilled his Destiny. Death Eaters are rounded up and held under the watchful eyes of the Aurors until the new Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, decides what to do with them.

There aren’t many left. Some are dead, others have fled. Some had surrendered even before the Dark Lord fell. Technically, Draco is a prisoner of war, as is Severus, although neither has been fighting. Severus insisted on getting the students out of school when the Dark Lord attacked, and Draco had opted to help him, keeping out of the way and hoping they would make it through alive. And Harry, too.

Draco wonders where Harry is. He can hear people talking about him, about how he defeated the Dark Lord and what a courageous man and strong wizard he is. But he can’t see him and wonders, worriedly, if Harry has been hurt. His friends are all here; Draco can see a small crowd of red heads at the other side of the Hall, but no matter how much he cranes his neck, he can’t spot Harry.

He hasn’t seen Harry for the last four months, since that night, and doesn’t know what he has been doing in that time. He knows that Severus has met with Harry, but he hasn’t asked about those meetings except to hear Harry was well. He hasn’t asked if they had sex without Draco, he didn’t want to think of it, and Severus has never told him.

It hurt Draco that Severus was still leaving him out on something that has become so important to both of them. But he learned to accept the way things are, at least for now. Draco thought that he could live with his lover fucking Harry – is he still his other lover? – as long as Severus came back to Draco. He always did, and Draco didn’t want to doubt Severus again.

Perhaps Severus noticed how Draco felt, or perhaps it was Harry’s bright idea of keeping contact of some kind with Draco, but once Severus brought a small missive from Harry. Draco was grateful for the letter, something only for him from Harry, and murderously angry that his weakness had been noticed. He wrote an angry letter back, berating Harry for his stupidity of committing anything to paper – at least, not without a proper Concealment Charm!

Afterwards, he and Harry exchanged words via Severus. Mostly Harry sent questions and reassurances he was all right. Draco gave whatever little information he could gather to Severus in the hope that Harry might be able to use it. And now they are here, the Dark Lord is dead, and there is no trace of Harry, Severus looks half-dead, and they are surrounded by Aurors. Strangely, all that Draco wants is to see Harry to know he’s all right.

Suddenly, there is a commotion at the entrance to the Hall. Heads turn and Draco sits up straight in the hope of seeing what is going on. And then the crowd parts as Harry storms across the Hall towards the Slytherin table. People reach out, try to touch him. They call out his name, questions, praises, but Harry ignores them all. The Aurors guarding the Death Eaters straighten.

Draco’s heart leaps and starts beating faster as relief and nervousness course through him. The relief instantly changes to worry when he gets a good look at Harry. Harry’s clothes are torn, dirty and smeared with blood. He is pale under the layer of grime on his face. There is a drying smudge of blood on his forehead, over his scar. His eyes are fevered green and fixed on Severus.

The desperate gasp makes Draco turn to look at Severus. The man is staring at Harry as though he is seeing a ghost. Pain and grief are still etched into his features, but there is a small, fearful flicker of hope in his eyes as Harry approaches. Slowly, shakily, Severus raises and his hands rise in a pleading gesture that makes Draco’s heart ache.

‘Harry.’ It is only a faint whisper, desperate and beseeching.

One of the Aurors steps forward as Harry approaches. ‘Mr Potter,’ he begins, but Harry marches right past him and throws himself with such force at Severus that the man staggers back. Then Harry’s hands are in Severus’s hair and he is tugging him down, and those standing nearest gasp and cry out when Harry kisses Severus. Harry clutches at Severus’s shoulders so hard his knuckles turn white, and Severus enfolds him in his arms, clinging to him as their lips meet in a devouring kiss.

Draco’s heart is hammering in his chest and he yearns to reach out, touch Harry, wrap his arms around him and kiss him and then yell at him for worrying Draco, but Severus needs him more right now. And through his relief and stirring arousal at the sight comes the niggling doubt whether Severus feels like that for Draco as well. Whether Harry feels anything at all like this powerful emotion for Draco. Or was it all about Severus for Harry?

With a sound like sob, Severus lifts his head enough to look down at Harry’s face. His long hair falls forward so that his own features are hidden. His hands come up and cup Harry’s face.

‘You’re alive.’ Severus’s voice is rough, incredulous. ‘Alive! How?’

Harry’s hand shakes slightly as he points at his scar. ‘Boy Who Lived, remember?’

Severus gasps and sinks ungracefully onto the bench behind him. Harry follows him, straddling his lap. He touches his forehead to Severus’s.

‘I’m sorry you had to believe it,’ he whispers. ‘I’m so sorry he thought he couldn’t tell you.’

Severus jolts. ‘He knew? He knew you would not … would not die?’ There is so much pain in his voice Draco wants to cry.

‘He didn’t know exactly. Just … guessed, kind of. Which, considering who we’re talking of, means he knew, yes.’ Harry’s voice is trembling.

‘How … how …?’

‘I was one of them,’ Harry says so quietly Draco almost doesn’t hear him. ‘And … and the ritual he did for resurrection ... Some magic with my blood and my mum’s sacrifice and … But I’ll tell you later.’

Severus shivers and wraps his arms tightly around Harry, pressing Harry’s face into his shoulder. ‘I know I shouldn’t be the one saying this, but if he weren’t already dead …’

Draco can’t hear Harry’s answer to that. But he thinks he sees the corners of Severus’s lips lift minutely.

And then Harry lifts his head and turns to Draco with a smile and Draco’s doubts vanish. Harry does feel something for him, he is still Draco’s other lover. He extends a hand and says, ‘Draco,’ and there is something in his tone that makes Draco’s eyes sting.

Rapidly blinking away what cannot have been tears, he takes Harry’s hand. ‘Took you long enough, Potter,’ he says gruffly. Harry grins happily. It looks awful with all the dirt and blood and who-knows-what-else caked on his face. Draco wants to kiss him.

The moment is broken by the Auror who had addressed Harry earlier. ‘Ah, Mr Potter,’ he says, coughing politely. ‘You, um, shouldn’t be doing that. Erm. You shouldn’t.’

Harry looks at the man, and then for the first time seems to realise they are practically surrounded by Aurors.

‘Eh?’ he says. ‘Why’re the Aurors here?’

‘Because we’re evil Death Eaters and need to be guarded,’ Draco snaps angrily. After all, he’s been helping Harry these last months. He shouldn’t be treated like a common criminal!

Harry turns his head and blinks. ‘Eh?’

The Aurors exchange confused glances.

‘But, Mr Potter,’ another one says. He has red hair. Draco shudders. ‘These two carry the Mark. And you yourself named Snape as the murderer of Dumbledore! These two are dangerous criminals! They deserve to rot in Azkaban for the rest of their lives!’

‘The Kiss,’ interjects a third Auror with a nod. ‘If we still had the Dementors, that is,’ he adds.

The three other Aurors nod their heads. Severus’s hands on Harry’s waist tighten as Harry looks silently from one to the other.

‘Harry, mate, what’re you doing? Are you all right?’ Harry’s friends have overcome their shock and have caught up with him. There are a lot of dark, hateful glances directed at Draco.

‘Come away there, Harry,’ coaxes the she-Weasel, while Granger-girl watches the scene with wide, horrified eyes. Draco thinks she doesn’t look surprised at all.

Harry heaves a huge sigh and shakes his head. ‘You guys,’ he says, then looks at the Auror who spoke first. ‘You! Can’t you do your job properly? Really, no surprise Voldemort could take over the Ministry that easily.’

The Aurors bristle but don’t say a thing. Harry Potter just defeated the Dark Lord, after all.

‘Mr Potter,’ the Auror begins again, understandably irritated but trying to hide his anger.

Harry shakes his head again. ‘No! You of all people ought to know better. Aren’t the Aurors said to be the elite of the Department of Law Enforcement? You’d better gather evidence before you jump to conclusions. You ought to be better than that!’

‘Harry,’ Granger says uncertainly, but Harry ignores her.

‘You,’ he points at the baffled, offended Auror, ‘will go up to the Headmaster’s office. You will turn to the cupboard on the left-hand side, the one with the silver stuff on the doors. You will open the door closest to the window, where you will find a locked compartment. The password is “Ariana”. Inside the compartment, you will find documents in Professor Dumbledore’s hand. These will tell you all you need to know about Professor Snape.’

Severus’s head snaps up, and he stares at Harry. ‘He left … evidence?’

Harry gives a short nod, still eyeing the Aurors. ‘Lucky that he did, too. I suppose he was afraid of his plans going off too well.’

‘How do you know about the documents, Mr Potter?’ demands the red-haired Auror, and another asks, ‘Why didn’t you tell us before?’

Harry snorts. ‘Because I didn’t know about them before. I do now because Professor Dumbledore told me.’

‘Told you? The man is dead!’

Draco catches a few people exchanging glances. Harry rolls his eyes at them.

‘As if that would stop him,’ he says simply. ‘Now, go and get the documents. And stop treating Professor Snape like a criminal. He isn’t. You’ll see when you read the documents.’

The Aurors grumble a bit, but two of them leave. Draco is amazed. Not only because he has never seen Harry like this before, but even more so because although the Aurors bristle, they neither take umbrage at Harry ordering them around nor refuse to follow his orders. They must have worked together, Draco thinks. Potter always had ties to the Auror department. And the men seem to have made the boy their leader. But Harry ordering them around is still startling.

‘Your arrogance, Mr Potter, is phenomenal,’ Severus says acerbically, echoing Draco’s thoughts. But there is the shadow of a smile hovering in the corners of his mouth. ‘It can only be tolerated since you use it in our advantage.’

Harry smiles outright back. ‘I learnt from the best,’ he says, a teasing note in his voice as he looks at Draco, who blinks and flushes.

Before he can react in any other way, Harry’s friends interrupt. Ignoring both Severus and Draco except for the occasional dark, suspicious glance, they urge Harry to come away with them. Harry shakes his head at them and addresses the remaining two Aurors.

‘Since we’re talking about it, the same goes for Draco Malfoy. He’s not a criminal either. I daresay Professor Dumbledore wasn’t quite as clear-sighted as to include him in his accounts, so I’d better say it now. Draco helped me, a lot, during the last few months. The last tip that allowed me to trap Voldemort came from him.’

Draco blinks. Tip? Trap? The Dark Lord? But his confusion is nothing in comparison to the warmth he feels growing inside of him at Harry defending him like that. Harry really does care and wants to keep Draco around, doesn’t want to get rid of him to have Severus to himself.

‘Not to forget,’ Harry continues, ‘I was caught at Malfoy Manor, four months ago. You can ask Kingsley, I told him about that. Draco knew it was me, but he didn’t leave me to the Death Eaters, and he didn’t call Voldemort either. He let me get away. After considerably broadening my horizons in more aspects than one.’

Draco’s jaw drops and he flushes again. When has Harry learnt to make allusions while keeping a straight face? But no one except Severus catches on to that. Instead, there are curious whispers and piercing glances. The Auror scratches his head. Clearly, the informal reference to the Minister for Magic has thrown him.

‘Um, are you sure, Mr Potter?’

‘Sure. I’m willing to swear an Oath in front of the Wizengamot.’

That stuns them all, including Draco. But it seals the matter for the Aurors. They nod and step back a little. The crowd seems to realise the show is over and disperses, leaving only Harry’s friends. Weasel looks murderous. Draco smirks at him, making him flush ugly red. She-Weasel stares at Harry with doe-eyed confusion. It is Granger who speaks.

‘Harry?’

‘Yes.’

There is a whole world of meaning in their words, Draco can feel it. It leaves him confused, but she understands and sighs.

‘Ah. O-okay. Well, then, come on, Ron. Ginny. Let’s go back to your parents.’

‘But Harry …!’

‘Later, Ron.’

And with that, they leave, Granger dragging both redheads with her, she-Weasel batting her lashes at Harry’s turned back and the Weasel-King hissing his protests at Granger. Draco watches their retreat with fascination.

‘What was that?’ he asks Harry, amazed. ‘They just went away.’

Harry smiles at him. ‘Hermione.’

‘What? You mean, she knows?’ Draco feels vaguely sick.

Harry shrugs. ‘Couldn’t hide it from her. I was walking funnily when I got back, after that night. She just put one and one together. And got three.’

‘And it’s okay? Just like that?’ Draco can’t quite believe it.

‘She’s had some time to get used to the idea.’ Harry grimaces. ‘Ron’ll be spitting mad at me, though.’

Draco shrugs impatiently – who cares about the Weasel, anyway? – but Severus says softly, ‘It would have been wiser not to come over here, Harry.’

‘What?’

Severus looks up, face serious and controlled now. ‘They will not like your … association with Draco and me. Neither will the wider wizarding world. You could have come and talked to us later. When we were less in public. Instead of making such a spectacle out of us.’

‘Well excuse me if I was happy to see you alive,’ Harry huffs.

Severus’s hands clench suddenly on Harry’s hips. ‘So are we, Harry.’ Draco nods. ‘Nevertheless, it would have been wiser not to throw it into the public’s face like that. Besides, your friends—’

‘Oh, sod the public and my friends,’ Harry says impatiently. ‘My friends will come around. I know them. Ron will take a while, but the others will be okay. And the public … Hey, I just got rid of Voldemort for them. I’m a bloody hero. I deserve a reward.’

Draco splutters with indignation. Severus snorts impressively. ‘Phenomenal arrogance, Mr Potter. Besides, if I recall correctly, the hero’s reward is half of the realm and the hand of the king’s daughter in marriage, not two former Death Eaters one of whom is twice your age.’

Draco frowns, not understanding – what realm? What king? – but Harry laughs. ‘Hey, Draco can easily pass for royalty. He’s snobby enough, after all.’ He grins at Draco, who ponders whether he has just been called a princess and whether he ought to be angry with Harry, or whether he ought to be pleased at being called royalty.

‘Besides,’ Harry continues, softer and with a shy smile at Severus, ‘why would I want half of the realm if I can have half of you?’

‘Harry …’

Severus pulls Harry into a very close embrace and Harry burrows into him, a smile on his face that can only be called tender. They look so wrapped up in each other that for a moment Draco feels left out again, even if Harry is still holding his hand. But then Harry smiles up at him, and Draco moves without thinking.

He throws one leg over the bench so that he’s straddling it, then scoots closer until he sits pressed against the other two men. Harry lets go of his hand and wraps his free arm around Draco’s waist, and a moment later, Draco feels Severus’s hand come to rest on his thigh. He winds one arm around Harry, the other around Severus, and lays his head on Harry’s shoulder.

They have made it through the war. They are alive, all three of them. And Harry has said “half of you”, which must mean he knows that Draco and Severus are lovers, and that he is willing to share and be part of that. That he is willing to continue what they had that night. And Draco is more than willing himself to share Severus with Harry – and Harry with Severus, and to find out what they can be together.

They will meet trouble. As Severus said, the wizarding world at large will not like Harry with not only one, but two men, and former Death Eaters to boot. But Draco is optimistic. They have survived the Dark Lord. He still has Severus, and now he has Harry, too. He has a future.

Besides, scandalous association or not, Harry is still the man who vanquished the Dark Lord. Draco feels excited at just imagining what Harry can do for him, for both him and Severus, in this post-war world! Recognition and power are worthy goals, after all.

Draco grins into Harry’s hair. All is well.


End