The fact of the matter was that Draco Malfoy didn't want to go to Hogwarts again. He didn't care that it was their tenth year reunion. He didn't care that Harry bloody Potter had not only defeated Voldemort a year and a half before, he'd also managed to win the World Quidditch Cup for England, and that he'd even gotten married to that stupid Granger girl and managed to start reproducing tons of little children. No, he didn't care a whit about any of that. He was too tired to care about any of that, and even if he did, he certainly wouldn't let anyone know.

With care, he hitched his hip a little more to the side and the baby there gurgled happily, delighted with the tiny motion. That was the nice thing about it, he decided. He was tired, but he was also rather happy with himself and life in general for the first time in years. He hoped that his father had been as enraptured by him, but he couldn't say for certain that was so. It would have been somewhat difficult to ask, considering that Lucius was in Azkaban and he certainly had no intentions of going there, even to visit.

"There, there, sweet demon," he said, and lightly plucked the bottle out of the warm water in which he'd heated it. "There, there..."

It wasn't that he was a spectacular sort of parent, he figured; but he'd much rather do this than allow one of the house elves to do it, even if Dobby had come back once Lucius was in Azkaban. The little elf had been ecstatic when Draco had offered to equal Dumbledore's payment of him, and the rest of the Malfoy house elves had been just as delighted to have Dobby back to tell them what to do again. It worked out all around.

He tested the milk upon his wrist before shifting the child upward and lightly placing the nipple into his mouth. Silvery eyes closed, white-blond hair standing on end even as Draco walked back towards the study and his account books. With a sigh, he sank into his chair and proceeded to ignore the lot of them, watching instead as his son greedily devoured the milk with all the air of a little glutton.

Unlike the Weasleys, Malfoys rarely (if ever) managed more than a single child in a generation. His own father had been an only child, as had been his grandfather and his father's grandfather. It was an unbroken line of succession, but it was one constantly in danger of dying out; he wouldn't trust anyone enough to keep his child for him to go somewhere else, even if it was just for the weekend.

It probably would have sounded ridiculous to anyone who had known him as a child. He'd been a pampered brat, he knew, but that also was a precept of being a Malfoy child -- not only that you were likely to be the only one, but also that you were very likely to be spoiled completely rotten. He had no doubt that he'd do just the same to Damon. He'd been through altogether too much to get the child; he certainly wasn't going to do anything that might cost him all of that time, work and emotion!

One of the lovely things about being a wizard was that there were ways around certain biological facts. It was just as well. Women actively made Draco just a bit nauseous since Pansy had tried to fondle him in sixth year, and so he'd been hard put to figure out what to do about getting an heir. He knew he needed one. He knew he wanted one. And he knew that there was no way he was having sex with a woman, so that was right out. Permanently.

That being the case, he had begun doing research. He'd checked all of the books in his father's library. He'd consulted certain mediwizards in Sweden and Switzerland and even France. And he'd pulled it off. It had taken nine painstaking months of sitting beside a magical womb, weaving tender spells and songs and forming most carefully the child that slept within it. He'd been so out of it that no one had been welcome at the mansion, and if it hadn't been for Dobby's return and the absolute care the house elf had flooded him with, he'd have been an utter wreck by the time he was done.

He never, ever, ever wanted to do that again.

So, that left him in the position of overprotective, overbearing, and completely possessive parent. He hadn't been out more than twice in the four months since Damon's birth and he truly had no urge to go anywhere. Why should he? Everything was provided, his investments were all doing fine, and he'd much rather devote himself to being a full-time father, unlike his own parents had chosen to do. He was pleased with himself. He was pleased with his life.

And even if he did sort of wish that he could go back to Hogwarts, just to see what that one person was doing. Well. Damon was only four months old...

But...

The sound of a little dozing noise reached his ears, as Damon decided he'd drank enough -- almost the entire bottle -- and nodded off in Draco's arms, the nipple still half in his mouth. Damon knew just when it was time for his afternoon nap, often taken in the arms of his father. Four months, and he was already on the path towards being perfectly spoiled. He was a sweet child, didn't cry very often, cooed and showed a lot of interest in the world around him. Certainly well behaved enough to carry around for a weekend at Hogwarts. The school was a safe haven for wizards of all ages.

Perhaps Draco was just rationalizing because he wanted to see that one person one more time.

Then again, they hadn't said 'no children allowed', now had they? With a wicked grin, he whispered down to Damon, "We're taking a trip, sweet demon. You'll really like where I'm taking you, and we'll shock the hell out of all of them." Oh, yes, they would... and he'd find out just what he wanted to know.

"So, everyone's replied, then?" Harry asked Hermione, a brow arched in curiosity.

"Everyone," his wife confirmed with a slight smile. "Well, only a few of the Slytherins, of course."

"Figures," Ron said from some feet away, playing with their five year old, little blocks set up all around him -- he had been built into the castle. "Unfriendly lot of bastards, half of them Death Eaters..."

"Malfoy's coming," Hermione pointed out, looking down her little checklist. The sleek grey owl had drifted in that very morning with the short reply that Draco had sent.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked. "I thought he'd drifted off the edge of the world or something, the way he just kept not showing up... I mean, he did do an awfully fast disappearing act after graduation..."

"Bet he's a you-know-what," Ron said in agreement, nodding knowledgeably.

"I bet he just hasn't worked," Hermione thought, making a note beside the name. "With the Malfoy fortune, why would he have to do anything other than whatever made him happy?"

"Whatever the case, he's been awfully quiet," Harry agreed, sitting down next to her and beginning to magically reproduce the little folders of information they'd created to hand out to the other members of the class of '98 as they arrived. "That usually meant he was up to something."

"I wouldn't doubt at all that he's been up to something for the past ten years!" Ron declared, making a gesture with his hand that sent blocks flying. Little James took one look at his destroyed castle wall and promptly burst into tears.

"Oh, it's not that bad," Harry said, leaning down and putting the blocks in place. "See? All fixed. Uncle Ron is sorry for being a goofy git and knocking down the castle walls."

"'t took a lot of work," James frowned petulantly, leaning up to sling his arms around his father. "Som'day, I wan to be as big as you are, and make things as good, and, and..."

"And you will be," Harry promised and pulled James up to settle on a hip, kissing him on the forehead. "Can Uncle Ron come out, or does the great big fire breathing dragon have to stay trapped?"

"Really, Harry..." Hermione laughed.

"Unca Ron can come out," James decided, squeezing his father's neck. "Should I get Cedric? D'we get to go with you, too?"

"You get to go spend the weekend with your Grandpa Sirius and Grandy Remus. Won't that be exciting?" Hermione asked him. "They'll be here this afternoon, and I made them promise not to give you too much chocolate..."

"...which means they'll give you tons," Harry whispered in James's ear.

Ron carefully stood up, and tried to step over the castle walls. "Neville's coming, isn't he? You two have any idea if the faculty's changed much, or...?"

"I wan' tons," James agreed merrily, mugging his father again. "'ll get to play fort with them!"

"All you like," Harry promised.

"Well, aside from Professors Vector and Binns, they're all the same," Hermione replied. "Professor Binns finally gave up the ghost, so to speak, and Professor Vector is on sabbatical."

Ron shook his head as he ruffled James's hair after unseating only one block of the castle. "I liked Vector -- wish it had've been Snape on the sabbatical."

Harry snickered at that, shaking his head as he sat James down and sent him to play again. "No such luck. That greasy bastard's eternal," he declared once James had slipped from the room.

"Language," Hermione said sternly.

"Don't want the children sounding like we do," Ron grinned at Hermione. "So, are you two taking this trip as a little... ah, romantic vacation for yourselves, too?"

Harry wriggled his eyebrows, grinned and gave Ron a look as if to say, 'What do you think?'

Hermione's snicker gave him away, unfortunately, and the redhead looked at her with an inquiring gaze. "As if we'd have time for romantic anything," she denied dryly. "We're organizing the whole thing. Right down to the last minute, I might add."

Harry rolled his eyes mournfully, shaking his head. "Hermione, I really think that everyone doesn't want to be pigeonholed into doing certain things the entire time..."

"What sort of things are we doing?" Ron asked.

"Oh, all sorts of things! There's even going to be Quidditch, if you old men can still ride broomsticks," she teased, grinning at, both of them. "Aside from that, we're having tea Saturday and Sunday, a lot of games, swimming in the lake Saturday afternoon," for those who were brave enough to get in even with the giant octopus that resided there, "and a dance Saturday night."

"Hey, I think that Harry shouldn't be allowed to play in the Quidditch game," Ron decided, looking a little wild-eyed. "Considering what you do for a living, Harry!"

Harry just grinned at him, though. "Tell you what. I'll even agree to play Keeper, just to keep from having the advantage. But you don't want Gryffindor to win?"

"Yeah, but who wants to play a five minute game, Mr. Snitch-Catcher?" Ron grinned, leaning against the table Hermione was sitting at. "Anyway, if Malfoy's dropped off the face of the earth, I doubt he's been playing Quidditch."

"Well, one way or the other, it will all be quite a great deal of fun. I think Harry had ought to referee," Hermione added, winking at him. "It'll be interesting to see how everyone still manages!"

Ron nodded to himself, looking down the list over Hermione's shoulder. "So... any ideas on who's bringing their spouses? I want to know how many of us poor singles there are."

"Probably two -- wait, Herm, do you know if Neville married or not?"

She nodded. "A Ravenclaw, I believe, a year younger than us. I forget her name just now... Malfoy seems to be single, according to this. He isn't bringing anyone with..."

"Hey, I've just had bad luck!" Ron growled, pushing at Harry as the other man sidled up towards his wife and his best friend.

Harry laughed. "Well, you did date Parvati for almost six years..."

"And then she left me for 'a better offer' without any warning." Ron sniffed slightly. "I'll probably never get over her. The bitch."

"Well, you hadn't asked her to marry you and it had been six years," Hermione reminded. "Girls don't like to wait that long."

"I was... waiting for the right time," the redhead sighed. "Can't be any worse than Fred and George -- they've got two years up on me, and they're both still single."

Harry shot a glance at Hermione. "They're going to be single forever," he said dryly. "After all, who'd marry both of them? They rather come as a set, don't they?"

"Maybe they'll find other twins," Ron said hopefully. "But... my own changes of finding love at the reunion are dead, hmn?"

"Unless you have some urge to boff Malfoy," Hermione agreed.

"Ew, I'll pass, thank you. My own branch and berries are enough for me, thank you muchly," he shivered, plucking her pen from her hand.

Unable to help herself, she snickered, finally settling into outright laughter. "Oh, Ron," she sighed. "We do love you awfully. You know that?"

"If we didn't, you wouldn't get past the front door," Harry added, stealing the pen from Ron to give it back to Hermione.

"I know that, you two doofs." He leaned both hands on the table, rocking a little. "You'd both better be as excited about this as I am."

"Can't wait," Harry agreed.

"Now, both of you sit down and go to work! We only have two days to finish getting everything ready!" Hermione demanded.

"Gee, Hermione, and here I distinctly remember you started two months ago..." Ron got elbowed by Harry, but only lightly.

After all, Ron was right.

"There, there," Draco whispered as he peered out of the Malfoy carriage at the sight of Hogwarts coming into sight. "There, there..." Damon hadn't been happy to be jostled from his nap, and was whining softly, but not crying yet. Even from where they were, he could see people lining up outside to go in, moving past the doors where folders or some-such were being handed out as they walked inside. "Interesting..."

Nervousness welled up in the pit of his belly -- not for the people he saw, so much as for the one he didn't see. He let out a breath and began shifting to lift the diaper bag onto his shoulder, absolutely smirking at the thought of what the lot of them might say to that. He could almost hear it now, sheer horror that Draco Malfoy might be someone's daddy. He was greatly amused by the mere thought.

Damon was clinging to him, making more unhappy little noises as the carriage bounced over every bump in the path at irregular intervals. That didn't help his nervousness, either -- after all, what if the person wasn't there at all? There were surely better things to do than attend an reunion in the beginning of the summer, after all... Like travel, or do research, or... or just not be there.

"Dobby thinks Damon wants pacifier," the house-elf sitting across from them both decided.

"Dig it out," Draco demanded, handing over the bag and pulling Damon up close, lightly patting his back even as they came to a stop. "You brought plenty of milk...?" He'd already asked that twice, but he fretted.

"Yes, yes, Dobby brought plenty, but Dobby keeps saying that there is milk here..." The little house-elf dug fingers into the side of the bag, and pulled out a bright green pacifier, which was promptly handed over to Draco.

"He won't like that milk. He wants milk from home," Draco said, slipping the rubber nipple into the baby's mouth. That calmed him perfectly in time for the carriage to stop and for Dobby to swing the door open to allow him to get out, grabbing the diaper bag as he stepped down from the thing. Dobby would get the rest of the luggage, he knew, and place it wherever it was appropriate.

Damon was, in fact, making tiny coos behind the bit of rubber in his mouth as he sucked, and seemed delighted by the appearance of the school - and all the people! For the four month old, everything was new because the only person he saw was his father, and that seemed to be all right until he learned there were more.

More, he decided, was good.

The sound of murmurs followed Draco all the way to the queue outside the door, where he quite calmly proceeded to walk past the lot of them. "Excuse me," he said not-quite-politely. "There aren't separate lines for each house? I need to get inside to change Damon," he declared, smirking. It wasn't true, but he wanted to scare them all half to death from the mere thought of him and a baby. "Isn't that right, sweet demon?"

The silver-capped head bobbled for a moment -- just might've done the same for any question -- and Damon reached tiny fingers to grab his father's chin as he kept sucking on his pacifier.

"What ho-- Oh, my god, Draco!" Blaise gaped quietly after that, his own packet of papers barely held in his hands. "Oh, I never thought you were going to show..."

"I responded to the invitation," Draco said, glancing over to where Hermione was handing out papers. "I see they've got that Gryffindor lot handing out all of the necessary information. That figures. So much for nappy changing, Damon," he told his son with a smile.

Bobbling for a moment more, Damon laid his head down on his father's shoulder, and snugged himself comfortably in.

"How old is he...?" Blaise reached fingers towards the baby, almost touching. "Is his mother around, or did she decided to not come...?"

"Four months," Draco said, and though he was leery of letting anyone touch his child... well. It was Blaise.. "And I'm afraid he doesn't have a mother. Just me," he said dryly.

"Just you?" Blaise's head snapped up, and the impressed look on his face was as clear as the sun was bright. "He does look... just like you."

Draco's expression as good as declared, 'I'm impressive'. "I'll be right back," he said instead. He shook his head and calmly broke in line just behind the person with whom Granger was currently speaking. "Give over, Gryffindor. I need inside," he drawled, enjoying himself. It had been forever since he'd gotten to be nasty to anyone, and it was rather enjoyable to do it now! After all, they weren't expecting anything else from him, if they were expecting him at all.

"Hold just one mo-- oh." He was sure, as the evening went on, he'd get to see more delightful expressions of shock and startlement. To see Hermione's face go blank was infinitely pleasing.

"Brains failing you after all these years? Shame, that," he drawled, one blond brow raised.

"Hello, Malfoy," Harry Potter greeted him with a stubborn frown, handing him a green folder over Hermione's shoulder, barely giving him a look.

Draco shuffled the diaper bag around, shifting Damon and took it. "How polite of you, Potter. Hello, yourself." Two sets of glimmering grey eyes looked at Harry, and he shivered just a little as he looked at the baby.

"You, uh... corresponded back that you were coming by yourself," Hermione pointed out, "So there isn't room for your wife, if she's coming along..." She was already discreetly scanning the crowd, trying to place who could marry that.

"I don't have one of those," Draco said primly, "and Damon will sleep with me, thank you."

"What'd you do, Malfoy, clone yourself?" Ron Weasley asked in surprise.

"Something like that. I'm sure you wouldn't understand the sort of procreation that requires only one parent," Draco said breezily.

"You sure it's not Pansy...?" Ron hedged, frowning at the little baby that was leaning against his father's shoulder, watching them all.

A delicate shudder worked through Draco's body. "Ew. And even if it was, I wouldn't admit it, Weasel. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Ron just managed a smile, though, and let Draco sidle past them, with his baby undisturbed by it all. "Have a nice stay, Malfoy..." And once he thought Draco was out of earshot, "God, that must be how the priggishness passes down through the lines."

"Thank you, Weasel," Draco called back. "At least you don't seem to have reproduced, though I doubt not that there will eventually be half a dozen little Weasels running about biting ankles. The lot of you proliferate quicker than your namesake!" He winked at Blaise, tilting his head to the side. "Come on. Let's go... if you're here alone, that is?" Even if the other man wasn't, that was all right, too.

"Maybe I shouldn't admit to it," Blaise drawled, crossing his arms over his chest as he fell into step with Draco when the man started to walk. "Pansy will be along in just a moment..."

Unable to help himself, Draco choked. "Merlin, Blaise! Tell me you didn't!"

"I did." Blaise sounded grim for a moment, but seemed to snape out of it. "We make a good couple, actually."

"Congratulations, then," Draco wished dryly. "I'm very glad it was you and not me, as I'm not at all inclined. Not just to Pansy," he said pointedly. "I'd have likely said the same regardless of who Weasley named."

"That way, huh?" Blaise didn't seem surprised at all. "We all guessed you were."

"Shame no one thought to mention it to me," Draco replied, and lightly bounced Damon in his arms, gaining giggles from the child. "So. D'you know who's returning, if all of the professors are here, or...?"

"Vector's not, and Binns finally disappeared. Someone in one of his classes -- a Slytherin -- told him rather coldly that he was dead. Seems it just finally sank in then, and poof, mid-class, he disappeared." Blaise seemed pleased by that fact, as they strode into the entry hall. "Damon, hmn? He seems happy. How's life been for you, Draco...?"

"Not bad, all told. Been awfully busy the last ten years..." He trailed off, shrugged. "You know. My parents sent me out of country for a while, and I've only just gotten back a little over a year ago. Right after You Know Who died."

"So that's how you didn't end up dragged down into it." Blaise seemed a little relieved. "A lot of our house is... well, with Lucius, in Azkaban."

Draco nodded ruefully. "Father didn't want me involved, I think. Best to get me out of the way, that being the case, and he managed it." They'd begun the trek down to the dungeons before either of them heard Pansy's voice behind them.

"Blaise, darling! Wait for me!"

"I've found Draco, Pansy -- come along and see his son!" Blaise shot Draco a grin. "I haven't gotten a chance to get down into the dungeons yet, but the Gryffindors were joking about the place having been redecorated."

"Oh, God, if the bloody creatures have gone down and painted everything red..."

"Oh, hello, Draco, and my, who is this sweet ickle thing? And where on earth is his -- it is 'his', isn't it? I can't imagine you having a daughter... --mommy?" Pansy said as she caught up with them.

"Draco -- wove, right? -- had the baby all by himself. Damon," Blaise said, pride in his fellow Slytherin for the accomplishment clear. But Pansy still swooped in to touch the baby's cheeks, getting a distraught cry that made him drop his pacifier.

"He doesn't like to be touched any more than I do," Draco reminded her a bit sharply, catching the green thing and promptly teasing it back between Damon's lips. "I'm afraid he hasn't seen very many people as yet in his short life..."

That distraught noise didn't stop, though, and turned into the first real squall Damon had ever given since his completion. The pacifier was a hopeless cause, and Blaise carefully nudged his concerned wife back from Draco.

"Oh, you need a woman's touch to soothe a baby, Draco -- here, let me try..."

"Pansy, if you touch him again, he's likely to scream," Draco announced, now alarmed as he backed away from the woman, which actually gained him more by way of silence, though Damon still wasn't very happy. "I told you, he doesn't like to be touched."

Pansy set her hands on her hips, though. "Draco, you may know a lot, but everyone knows that babies like to be touched! You're depriving the poor darling. I've already gotten two through that stage, I think I know what I'm talking about." And so, moving like a snake, she approached again.

By the time he took another step back, she was on him, and she touched his child and before he could even get his wand loose from the bag, she'd been pulled back, and Damon was screaming fit to burst his lungs.

Apparently she was very wrong, because tiny hands clutched at Draco's neck, and Damon just bawled and cried right in his father's ear, in a fit of purest panic. Somewhere farther down, a door slammed open, and footfalls could be heard marching towards them.

"Whoever is killing Mrs. Norris, could you please just be DONE with it, because I am attempting something that requires delicate concentration, and a screaming cat--" Severus Snape didn't get any farther than that, and trailed into giving the three ex-students a dark glare, once he'd swung open the dungeon door.

"I'm sorry, sir," Draco said, lightly patting Damon's back as he continued to cry. It wasn't helping. "Pansy just wouldn't leave him alone, and it's the first time he's ever left home..." He was babbling. He was babbling because Severus Snape was standing in front of him looking angry and completely gorgeous in that hook-nosed black-eyed way of his that made Draco's knees weak just as it had for years. /Oh. Damn./

"Pansy, just leave the child alone. It's Draco's baby," Blaise said with a scowl. "Really!"

Snape just looked at him. Draco could feel eyes scrape over him, and then over Damon, and then him again, before they shuttered off entirely. He didn't look different -- he'd hit that point of being a Wizard where aging slowed to a crawl, that part that allowed most wizards in good health to live to a hundred and fifty, or sometimes more. "Pansy, if your presence makes the child scream, perhaps you should let its mother fuss over it."

"It doesn't have one," Pansy said pointedly. "Draco did a weave so that he wouldn't have to procreate."

Color flooded his face as he looked helplessly at the potions master, Damon still shrieking in his ear, beginning to hiccough despite his soothing. "I'm sorry, sir..."

"Go on to your room, Pansy, Blaise," Snape instructed in that cold tone he'd always used. "If there's anything you can do to calm... him? Please, make the attempt."

/So, now that I feel as if I'm eleven again.../ "I'm afraid he's never done this before," Draco mumbled as Blaise and Pansy went on their way, a sheepish admission. "He's not very happy about that cow touching him. I can't imagine why he should be, I never liked it when she tried to touch me, either!"

The professor loomed nearer, as if his presence would somehow muffle the child's hiccoughed cries. "Most attendants with children have left them with caretakers -- surely...?" Hands that were knitted together as they'd so often been when Draco had been a student there, moved, one as if to touch Damon, though Severus didn't. It was futile to calm the child, it seemed in his eyes.

"I couldn't," Draco said miserably. "I wouldn't. I suppose I shouldn't have come..." But that almost-touch seemed to gather all of Damon's curiosity, and his wails became quiet, and his fingers reached out and touched those chemical-stained fingertips... "I think," the blond man whispered, "that he likes you."

Long fingers shifted a little, letting the baby grasp onto them with curiosity. "Or is soothed to know that Pansy has left."

"That is also a possibility," Draco admitted, smiling at him. "How have you been, Professor? It's been so long..." His heart was fairly hammering in his chest, and Damon was beginning to lean just a bit, playing with those hands delightedly, trying to gnaw on a knuckle.

Snape seemed willing to let him, so whatever he'd been working on -- if he'd actually been working at all, and not just set on edge by the noise -- must not have dirtied his hands. Draco couldn't see the potions master letting a baby possibly ingest something poisonous. "I've been teaching. There is little difference from one year to the next, aside from my own personal research. And you, Mr. Malfoy? You've been very low-key since your graduation... One hardly knew you were alive."

"Father and Mother sent me to the continent. I've been writing, mostly, keeping quiet. They didn't want me involved with... what was going on," Draco finished quietly, smiling at him. /This is good,/ he decided. /Very good./ "You know, so far, Damon really only likes you and me," he declared, looking up at the older man through blond lashes.

Damon was busy, in fact, holding onto Snape's hand, as if to hold it still, while he chewed at one knuckle, cooing to himself. His little face was still tear wet, and little hiccoughs resounded in his chest still, but his mood had swung dramatically towards good again.

Black eyes looked down under black lashes at the younger Wizard. "Perhaps he can sense a personality that pleases him. What sort of writing have you been indulging in?"

"This and that. Mostly articles on potions, a few fictional pieces," he admitted. "And mostly to keep myself from being bored out of my mind. There was a lab in the cottage that Father set up, so..."

"If you're here to seek a teaching position, I regret to say that I've plans of staying on indefinitely," the potions master told him. "But it's heartening to see you take up the art that you were so talented in when you were a student. Perhaps I've read some of your articles...? What was your nom de plume?"

"Oh, I'm not here for that reason," Draco told him with an almost secretive smile. "And it was Diane Madrigal." At that name, Damon fairly giggled, soft cheek rubbing against Snape's other knuckles as he looked up at the man with silvery eyes altogether too like his father's.

Well, there was little else to expect from a weave child, other than those startling similarities. The professor moved his hand a little, so that stained fingerpads stroked lightly over the smooth, silken cheek. "It doesn't quite set off any whistles in my mind, though I'm sure I may have read them. DM --- well chosen."

"I like to think so, anyway. I doubt they were even close to the sorts of things that would gain your attention," Draco said almost demurely, eyes roaming over that face, cataloguing the changes that had occurred in the last ten years. A few more lines around the eyes, expression just a bit more tired... Still an utterly magnificent man.

Particularly when the edges of his mouth curled in a slight smile, and the expression reached stormy eyes for a fraction of a second. "If your topic of choice was something wasteful such as love potions, Mr. Malfoy, I'll have to agree that it wouldn't have gained my attention."

"Oh, no..." Draco answered, sounding almost breathless. "You never seemed to approve of those. Besides, if I'd ever known how to make one, I'd have likely tried to use it or something, wouldn't I? You know I've never been able to resist trouble."

"Well, it couldn't have been something too dangerous, either, because I've heard no reports at least recently of potions related explosions..." He stroked the wild feathery strands of silver atop Damon's head, for a moment, before he drew his hand back. "Would you like to join me for tea, Mr. Malfoy? You've a house-elf already banging about within your room."

"That sounds just wonderful," the younger man agreed, smiling at him. It sounded beyond wonderful. It sounded like the answer to dreams. "So long as you don't mind the sound of a bit of sucking... It's almost time for Damon's nap."

"I've a record playing -- something so slight will blend away." It was dismissive of the idea that he'd be bothered by it at all, just as much as the way he turned away to lead the day down the stairs. "What made you decide to create a weave-child?"

"Father always used to say that a man should be sure of his line before he becomes as old as thirty. I was getting perilously close to that age," he admitted as he followed behind Snape, "and I really... Well..." He sighed. "I really am not fond enough of women to want to do... THAT... with one. It's moderately distasteful."

"You're aware, of course, that you're going to have to be explaining that for the rest of the weekend." The potions master sounded oddly bemused, as he pulled open a side door of the hallway that simply hadn't been there before, and slipped in. "Yes, you've managed to create a rather beautiful-seeming, and personalitied baby without a woman."

Draco smiled, nearly giddy from the compliment. "I rather think if there had been a woman involved, he wouldn't be half so marvelous. I also think that I just won't explain it..." He wrinkled his nose. "Can you imagine what Weasley and Potter would say about it? 'Poor Malfoy,'" he mocked in a squeaky voice. "'Can't even get a woman in bed with him!' And why would I want to is the question," he finished off with a firm nod. "If Mother could hear me say that, she'd likely cry."

"You somehow managed to turn out decently, despite having had a mother." Snape sounded dry, as he led Draco down the little hallway, and pushed open a door that led into his office. "Sit down, please, Mr. Malfoy."

Carefully, Draco settled into a chair with which he was most familiar, having spent no few number of afternoons in discussion with his favorite Professor. He rummaged about in his bag, pulled out a bottle and his wand and performed a warming charm with the ease of someone accustomed to needing four hands and having only two. "Yes, well. Mother was quite different than, say, Pansy, I should think."

It helped some that Damon clung to him while he went about warming the bottle. Little hands reached for it greedily when Draco put the nipple into his maw like mouth, hungry and wanting it. "Quite different. Your mother had an air of common sense about her that Pansy... desperately lacks, for want of better words." There was a tea-tray in one corner, and Severus moved to it gracefully to pour two cups.

Draco laughed softly, delighted in many ways by both of them -- the Professor and Damon, who was always a greedy little thing. "Yes, that's right, sweet demon. Grandmama was a much more pleasant sort of woman than that nasty Parkinson wench. I'll bet even that silly fluff-headed Granger would be more agreeable for you, though I shouldn't think I'd try it, one way and another..."

"Still two cubes of sugar?" Snape turned a little, to look over his shoulder at Draco, half-watching little Damon drink greedily from his bottle. Any sucking noises were impossible to hear above the soft, blanketing noises of some ancient wizard composer's aires.

"You remember." That was said most warmly, and Draco smiled at him, that terribly irresistible smile that wasn't smarmy or even particularly sharp, but amused and pleased.

"I can't remember having another student in to have tea as often as you." Dismissive again, but it still didn't change the fact that he had remembered, and done so without any effort at all. Two cubes were dropped in, a spoon added so Draco could stir it in, though on second thought, and after seeing how busy Draco's hands were, he stirred it for the younger Wizard. "I'll have to go through my journals now, you know, so I can see just what sort of knowledge you left this school with."

"Hopefully, you'll be proud of me. At least a little," Draco replied, watching him solemnly even as Damon dozed off, nipple still in his mouth as he sucked lazily.

"I don't doubt I will. After all, complete dreck seldom reaches the printing presses, so surely someone thought it was worth a read..." The drawled, smooth words weren't hurtful, but Severus's version of teasing, as he set Draco's saucer and cup on the small stand beside that chair. Then Snape moved to sit in his own chair. "I'm relieved to know that you kept yourself free of the mess your father was involved in."

"I am, as well. I think..." He paused, bit at his lower lip. "I think perhaps there was more than a simple suggestion that I should join. Vince and Greg did, after all..." They were in Azkaban now, which gave him no joy. They hadn't been so bad, really, only they'd made the wrong choices upon encouragement from their fathers. A boy, Draco thought, ought to be able to trust his father to look out for his best interests.

His own father had, after all, despite what he was doing. Because he'd loved his only son, he'd protected him as best as he could... "You were always... a greatly heated topic, when you were brought up. Your father covered for himself so well, that it was never clear if you were dead, alive, joined or not."

"I'm glad to know that he at least..." Draco sighed. "I don't know. I don't know. It was his choice to make, though, and making any other or changing it..." Changing it as Severus had... "Well."

"You've already left a good mark on the world, if a quiet one, in so few years." The potions master took a quiet sip of the tea, watching Damon snuggle up to his father. It wasn't very chill in there -- just comfortable, probably the most comfortable place in the entire school in the summer.

"Hmmm." It was agreement as he reached out to take his own cup, carefully watching the older man. "So. I'm sure you've been busy with more than just teaching..." His voice trailed off quietly.

"Research -- the Trials, for a time, but mostly research. I've all but perfected the wolfsbane potion, at last." Years and years of work, but it was no small matter to refine a reliable potion that would counter to lycanthropy time and time again.

"Brilliant. I'm sure Remus Lupin is grateful... among others." And oh, how jealous he'd been of Remus Lupin! Deathly so, and for so many reasons, but at the end of third year, Snape had been furious with him and had told everyone that he was a werewolf; that had pleased Draco at least a bit.

"Among others. The stipend the ministry is giving me for 'research in the service of Wizardkind' is... quiet substantial." A glint of Slytherin ambition in the man who was drinking tea across from Draco -- Severus was obviously laying on the school's resources for a time until he had enough of a decent reputation rebuilt to set out on his own and take at least potions creation by surprise.

It was absolutely breathtaking for Draco. "Congratulations, sir. That sounds just wonderful," Draco replied, his own gaze sparkling with the same aspiration and sheer determination. "Of course, I always knew that you were brilliant." And hot. He couldn't leave that part out, could he?

Still, it was hard to broach that point verbally. Severus would probably wonder if he'd had a few drinks before coming to the school, or worse, had a good, long 'smoke'. "Knew, or just preferred to be a bit of a kissass, Mr. Malfoy...?" No anger at all, only a bland drawl and another spark in those dark dark eyes.

For a moment, Draco was almost angry at that, but Damon was in his arms, and that more or less countered his fury. He shrugged, smiling. "Does it matter which? Either way, it amounts to admiration of you, doesn't it?"

"Admiration doesn't serve much of a purpose." Snape set his tea-cup aside after a moment more of idle sips. His eyes were all but boring into Draco, digging for... something in the younger Wizard's form, in silvered eyes. "Why don't you take a look over your packet there, Mr. Malfoy -- it would be best for you to be aware of what Mrs. Potter has plotted out for this weekend."

"Oh, he married the little...?" Well, it wasn't nice to say Mudblood, much as he wanted to do so. He grinned, instead. "Bet they've got a passel of brats, too. I'm only surprised that Weasley doesn't have lots of little redheads running about his ankles."

"Not married. It's a blessing, because the Wizarding world doesn't need to be overrun by Weasleys." In fact, the family seemed to have a strange default system -- through the generations, only one or two of each gaggle of Weasleys ever reproduced. The others, not unexpectedly, simply turned out gay.

"Well, there's no worry about it being overrun by Snapes and Malfoys, I do suspect," Draco said dryly. "Malfoys tend to be single-heir generations, as they either have one male, or a male and a gaggle of females. And..." He smiled almost shyly at the professor across from him. "You're the last of the Snapes, aren't you?" He knew that Severus was, actually; the man once had a sister, but she'd died in some bizarre accident involving a broomstick, a troglodyte and a handful of Cockroach Clusters, or so it was said.

Obviously, it wasn't spoken of very often, even in the most gossipy of circles -- after all, if a Snape could die so gruesome a death... "Much to the regret of no one at all," was the Potions master's dry reply. "I'd say it's a shame, but it really isn't one."

"I disagree," Draco told him firmly. "Though..." Well, he shouldn't say that. No, in fact, it would be downright rude to tell the man that the thought of him with any woman anywhere made him just as nauseous as, say, the thought of Severus Snape boffing Harry Potter... or worse, Ron Weasley. "Well, at any rate, point being, it is a shame."

"I fail to see how. After all, I'm not denying the world anything by deciding to not marry and 'settle down'." Snape looked at Damon for a moment, "Though, you've managed well without having to suffer that fate."

"Precisely," Draco agreed. "Just think. If we didn't manage, there'd just be more room in the world for Potters and Weasleys, and then there would we be? Full of insufferable rule-breaking gits. With lots of red and bushy heads of hair," he declared.

"I hope that when your son is school-aged that he gives hell to whatever Potters or Weasleys he comes across," Snape drawled. "He'll have to make up for the fact that there's one less family line to prove a threat to those sorts."

"So you don't have any intentions of ever...? Oh, pardon," Draco said, grey eyes widening slightly. "I don't mean to pry, Professor..." All right, so he did mean to pry, and he meant to pry lots...

He just didn't mean to be caught at it.

"If I'd ever made the decision to, I should be a grandfather right now," he said, with a slight inclination of his head towards Damon. "Considering that I attended school with your father."

Draco grinned at him. "You were three years under him, though, weren't you? So, technically, you'd have at least another two or three before you reached that point, surely? And you definitely don't look that old," he added slyly, peering up at him from under those pale lashes.

Quiet for a moment from the older Wizard, though eyes continued to bore into him. "That would still involve a woman, for someone unwilling to attempt a weave. You've more faith in your genes than I've in mine, for good reason."

"Not if you could get someone else to help you work the weave," Draco pointed out, flushing. It was as good as an offer, and he wasn't sure how that would be taken at all!

Severus very obviously chose to ignore Draco's implied words. "And whoever would offer that to me? A child takes a great deal of time, as I'm sure you're aware, and I would be a man most unable to spare that time."

"Ahhh." He sounded almost disappointed; he couldn't help himself. "Well, if you change your mind, Professor, be sure to let me know..."

"Why are you here, Draco?"

That question made him startle slightly, and Damon hiccoughed in protest. "What do you mean?" he asked, raising one slim blond brow. "Can't I just come like everyone else?"

"Well, for a decade you've been conspicuously absent from wizarding life in England. Yet after not hearing from you during all that time, you very seriously make an offer that has grave implications." The potions master folded his arms slightly, fingers of one hand stealing up to press against the edge of his mouth in thought. "It makes me wonder."

"Makes you wonder what?" Draco responded, shifting Damon quietly as he sipped from his teacup. "Precisely?"

"Why pick up again as if ten years never passed, Mr. Malfoy...? I could imagine the boy that I taught making such a rash offer." And being rebuked for being foolish, and for not thinking it through properly. 'Five points from Slytherin for poking your nose in business that shouldn't concern you'. "But for you to suggest such a thing to a ex-professor that you haven't spoken to in a decade, well..."

Quietly, Draco stood, nestling Damon closer to his shoulder. His smile wasn't quite a smirk -- no, it was simply the quiet sort of look that had sometimes passed from him to Severus Snape on quiet afternoons such as this, long passed from memory. "You don't honestly think I'd come just for some sort of ridiculous reunion, do you?" he asked, lifting his bag and tilting his head to look at the man.

"The thought that you'd want to spend time rubbing elbows with old adversaries never even crossed my mind." Snape stayed still in his chair, looking at Draco when he stood. The young Malfoy heir had gained height in his seventh year, though not enough to set off his delicate features as anything but beautiful. "Yet that still doesn't tell me why you're here."

"Doesn't it?" Draco asked him, nodding to the tea tray, to Snape himself. "All things considered, I rather think that you should be able to guess..."

"There are four or five reasons that I can guess right now, Mr. Malfoy," Snape murmured, still trying to hold Draco's gaze with his own. "Yet, if I were to jump to the wrong conclusion..."

"Then perhaps we should talk about it again Sunday evening," Draco suggested. "Just so that you can be quite sure you aren't... jumping to the wrong conclusion, that is."

"Or, you could simply tell me what conclusion I'm supposed to reach." Severus stood now. He was only a little taller than Draco, but it was enough for him to have to look down to his former student when he stood. Damon made a quiet coo, snugging closer to father's neck.

"Where would the mystery be in that?" Draco asked, moving closer to the other man. The space between them would have been nonexistent if Damon hadn't resided in Draco's arms.

"I suppose, if the mystery will amuse you for the next day or so, that I can oblige." Severus's breath was sweet from the residuals of the tea, warm, and so close to Draco... The temptation was so absolutely mind-bogglingly impossible to resist that if Damon hadn't lifted his head right then, Draco would have leaned forward and kissed him absolutely stupid.

"Oh, I think so," Draco told him, mouth trembling just a bit with the repressed desire.

"Perhaps you'll head to your room now...? If Damon needs to be tended to before the social meet and greet that Mrs. Potter has planned..." Severus stayed close, as if he knew what he was doing, and moved fingers to pet the top of Damon's head gently -- accidentally touching Draco's cheek in the process.

The baby cooed even as Draco's breath caught slightly. "Charming," he managed to get out. "More time spent with Pansy. I hope Blaise can keep her off of me." And, most particularly, off of his baby.

"Faculty is required to attend, if they're still in the building," Severus went on, fingers making that idle motion once more, exactly the same as before. "Hopefully no one other than Pansy will make your child scream so."

/No,/ Draco thought, /but maybe I can do a bit of my own screaming./ "Sounds marvelous," he agreed, not wanting to step back, but forcing himself to do so. "That means I'll be seeing you later tonight, then."

"I suppose so." The Potions master moved at last, to open the door for Draco. Damon moved fingers towards him nonetheless, tiny hand waving in the air as he looked over his father's shoulder.

"One thing is sure, though," Draco called back as he continued along the way. "Damon likes you quite a lot." /Even if it's not as much as I do./

"I'd already guessed at that," he drawled, hanging out of the doorway for a moment, watching Draco. Then he turned away, and the light spilling out of his office faded away entirely.

That had gone better than Draco had expected.

"Let's go have a nap, sweet demon," he whispered to the little boy in his arms. "Because Daddy's absolutely giddy, and I rather doubt he'll even be able to stand up much longer if he keeps on being this happy." So, Draco laughing and Damon giggling, they headed for the Slytherin common room.

"You say you saw Malfoy...?" The mere suggestion that the boy who'd embodied everything a Slytherin was expected to be was not only in attendance, but that he hadn't changed a bit, sent a shiver of fear down Neville's spine. "Oh, please let him keep busy with the other Slytherins, I don't want to be turned into something..."

"He's got a baby with him. Called him demon," Ron said with a firm nod. "Probably is one, as it doesn't have a mother."

"Damon," Hermione corrected, "and it's a Weave baby."

"I've never heard of a weave baby before now, Hermione," Harry sighed as he leaned an elbow on the old commons room table. Everything was still the same, as if the school had been in some sort of time stasis since they'd been there.

"They're special, require lots of time and patience to create. You make a child out of your own seed with magic, and for nine months, you weave a womb around it to cradle it and hold it safe and make it strong. Sort of like... surrogate motherhood," she suggested. "Or at least, it's parenthood of a singular sort. You make all contributions to it."

"Guess he just didn't want to get hitched," Ron shrugged. "I still think that as long as it's a Malfoy, it's a Demon, not a Damon."

"I... I heard something," Neville suggested softly, tentatively. After all, no one would repeat what he said to Malfoy, not a Gryffindor. "I heard Pansy groped him a lot when we were in school and he doesn't like girls and I'll bet that's why he did it..."

"... wouldn't surprise me," Harry murmured after a moment. "Not considering who it is."

"Weave babies are very difficult to create," Hermione chided. "And I heard he's been in seclusion for the last ten years."

"Wanking, probably," Ron snickered. "So. Malfoy is a mommy..."

"Well, since he's male, wouldn't that make him a father...?" Neville suggested tentatively.

"With Weave babies, you're really both," Hermione answered, frowning at Ron. "No cracks about Mommies."

"Oh, but Hermione, it's so easy..." Ron wheedled. "We don't like him, anyway -- I don't even know why he showed up, since most of his friends from school are in Azkaban."

"Probably trying to get into your pants, Ron," Harry told him cheerfully. "I mean, put it all together, doesn't like girls, has a thing for you, teased you in school like a little boy does a little girl he likes, pre-made family..." he teased.

"Harry, you're being gross," Ron declared, frowning a little -- at least until he heard the commons room door open.

"We're not too late, are we?" Seamus called.

"Only if you're interested in gossip," Hermione told him, standing up with a laugh. "Hullo, Seamus. Did you have a nice trip?"

"Except for the seagull I caught on my broom when I was skirting the coast, not a problem at all," the other wizard smiled. "What gossip have I missed? Dean's just coming up the stairs. Ran into Peeves, poor bugger."

"Frigging goddamned motherfucking..."

"I see Dean's learned a few new words," Harry said lightly, raising an eyebrow.

"And what red paint can do to new robes," Seamus went on cheerfully. "So, everyone made it...?"

"Most of the Gryffindors, three fourths of the Hufflepuffs, most of the Ravenclaws are apparently immersed in research but spouses," Hermione grinned at Neville, "have dragged them along, and a bare handful of the Slytherins."

"Just how bare a handful...?" Seamus asked, tossing down his rucksack lightly, before aiming his wand at paint-soaked Dean. "Hold still for a sec, buddy, and let me get that."

"WHY hasn't anyone killed that frigging poultergeist yet?" Dean groaned.

"Because he's dead already?" Ron suggested.

"Because the Bloody Baron hasn't said it was all right yet?"

"And what the hell gives the Slytherin ghost the right to keep the damned thing around!?!?!?!"

"Probably because it amuses him," Harry murmured with a slight smirk as Seamus cast a spell to clean Dean's robes. "Sit and calm down -- Hermione, I'm glad we didn't bring the children..."

"James would have learned a grand lot of new words," she sighed in agreement.

"You have children?" Dean asked, grinning. "As in, plural? Wow. I'd only heard about the one..."

"There's Cedric, he's three, and Molly, who's one and a half," Harry all but beamed at Dean. "I've promised Hermione Molly would be our last..."

"And James has reached the grand old age of five. I don't think I care for more than three. I can barely keep up with two at once," Hermione said dryly. "Thank God for Grandpapa Sirius."

"And Grandy Remus," Harry reminded her, as if she needed to be reminded. "So, it's four adults to three children -- we've almost got them outnumbered."

"Wow -- and you, Ron? Being a Weasley, why, I bet you've got those two over populated already..."

"I'm...er...not married yet," Ron admitted a little sheepishly.

"Going the way of Fred and George, are you?" Seamus asked with a grin.

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

Dean quirked an eyebrow at Ron. "What, you don't know your brothers are--" He stopped when harry gave him a look, and just went, "Oh, never mind."

"It's a bit late for THAT, don't you think!?" Ron demanded, groaning.

"So. How's that Quidditch, Harry?" Seamus asked self-consciously.

"Well, won the cup last year," Harry said a bit nervously.

"Hold on, now, I want to know what you all are saying about my brothers," the Weasley there demanded again.

"Well, I mean... YOU know, Ron," Seamus blurted out. "That they're..." He let his wrist flop. "Poufs..."

"WHAT?!!"

"Well, you KNOW they were sharing Justin Finch-Fletchley last year they were here..." Dean said with a shrug. "I mean, really, they were!"

"Oh, sweet Merlin." Ron fell back into a chair, wide-eyed. His brothers were... and everyone but him seemed to know it! His brothers were that way, and they weren't married -- neither was he. Maybe he was just so blind to it that he didn't know... "Oh, oh, sweet Merlin."

"Smelling salts?" Hermione offered sympathetically.

"Really, Seamus..." Harry sighed.

"I thought he knew," Seamus sighed, moving to pat Ron on his shoulder. "Sorry, chap."

"That explains all of the time they spent in the bathroom," Ron answered dazedly.

Dean watched Ron for a second, before simply shaking his head. "Harry, 'ermione, what've you got on the table for us this evening...?"

"Dinner, little gatherings like this one, and settling in. The real fun starts tomorrow morning..." Hermione said with a grin, still sneaking worried looks at Ron.

"Muggle games. Water balloon fights first thing," Harry said with a laugh.

"Water balloon fights?" Seamus looked at Dean and grinned wickedly for just a moment. "Wanna bet the Slytherins enlist Peeves?"

"Malfoy probably won't join in," Ron said after a moment more of his shocked silence. "Doesn't look like he'd let go of his baby demon for anything."

"Baby demon?" Dean asked, startled for a moment. "Someone's let one of those things into Hogwarts!?"

"Malfoy's woven a baby instead of adopting, or just getting hitched," Harry explained. "Named it 'Damon'... given that it's a Malfoy, it probably is a demon."

"Ohhhh. Well, he's a pouf, too, we always knew that," Seamus said with a grin. "I'm as likely to get hitched as he is, though, so I probably hadn't ought to talk, hm?"

"At least you wouldn't have demon children," Ron reminded, getting up from the chair with a sigh. "So, what've you been up to, Neville? You pulled a disappearing act, too."

Shyly, Neville twisted his hands together. "Vera and I have been doing potions research, actually..."

"POTIONS research!?" the lot of them said together, no small amount shocked.

"Well," he continued, "yes, actually. As it turns out, I'm not half bad at it. Really!" he insisted. "Truly!"

Harry stared at Neville for a moment, before saying, "Explosive ones...?"

"Medical ones," he said shyly. "Some that are even good for psychological purposes."

Harry knew what that meant and couldn't help but smile slightly at the other Wizard. "That's damn good to hear. You should go tell Snape that, in fact -- he'd probably be proud that you managed to do what you do despite him scaring us all shitless for years."

"I'm still scared shitless when it comes to him!" Neville blurted out, wringing his hands.

"I saw him smiling just about fifteen minutes ago," Dean declared. "Terrifying, that."

"Smiling?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow at Dean. "Really?"

"Uh-huh," Dean agreed. "Well, it was a smile for him anyway."

"Oh, god, should we check the commons room for a trap or something...?" Harry glanced around, still grinning to himself slightly. "Whatever would Snape be smiling over?"

"Dunno, but whatever it is, I'd say he passed for giddy, considering all the faces I've seen on him before," Dean said, and Seamus agreed.

"How fucking strange," Harry mused, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Hnn. Think he just handed in his resignation papers, or...?"

"Language," Hermione prompted him primly. "You have to go back to a house full of children, Harry. And I suspect that he's probably finally gotten recognition for the Wolfsbane Potion he's been working on -- Remus said as much when we saw him last evening."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't think it'd make Snape giddy..."

"Maybe he's glad Malfoy reproduced?" Ron said it, and immediately wanted to take the words back. "Never mind. I think... Dean, do you have any smelling salts on you?"

"Grim thought, that," Neville agreed.

"Indeed," Seamus said with enthusiasm. "Can't imagine anyone boffing him no matter how sexy he is, so it's no surprise he's been weaving."

Dean's nose wrinkled. "I didn't really need to hear all of that, Seamus..."

"What, someone boffing Malfoy? Oh, come on. He'd got a bloody sexy body, but... he's Draco."

"Oh, I thought you were talking about Snape. 'Evermind," Dean rescinded.

It didn't help Ron's lightheadedness at all. "Fred and George... are queer. Malfoy's a Mommy. Snape is SMILING. It's a sign of the coming Apocalypse, I tell you."

"You need four, actually -- I'm good in potions," Neville smiled.

"There you have it," Ron said. "Famine, War, Pestilence and.. What's that last one again?"

"Death," Harry intoned in a deep voice, chuckling. "So. Which one's which?"

"Snape smiling has to be death. Your brothers... eh, pestilence. Malfoy, well, he's war. So, Neville, you get to be Famine," Seamus smirked a little.

"That explains the weight loss," Neville decided, patting his flat belly. "Shall we go to dinner, on that note?"

"Hopefully Death and War won't be there," Harry grinned, getting firmly elbowed by Hermione. He might not be able to use language around the children, but she was teaching them perfectly well that daddy made a perfect doormat.

"Or if we're lucky they'll set up shop somewhere and leave Famine and Pestilence out of it," Ron agreed.

"Well, your brothers aren't anywhere in the building, so..."

"...it's not the end of the world just yet," Dean said with a grin.

"Thanks ever so much," Ron sniped, shaking his head. Fred and George. GAY! /No one ever tells me anything!/ "Let's go eat."

"That sounds like a good idea to me," Harry said, and they headed for the Great Hall.

Draco hadn't been aware that babies could even try to glare.

He was starting to become well aware of it now, as he sat in a chair in the Slytherin Commons, rocking his baby a little. A change of both diaper and clothes had left his darling sweet-smelling again, though Damon seemed displeased by the other Slytherins filtering into the room.

Damon had particularly disliked Millicent, who'd apparently married a Hufflepuff some three years younger than her. /Probably the only person she could get to marry her,/ he thought, disgruntled. They kept trying to touch both of them, she and Pansy, and even Blaise's notoriously long temper was shortening rapidly.

"I've just never seen such an ill-tempered baby before," Pansy sighed, finally giving up -- for the moment, at least -- and sitting down beside her husband again. "However did you finally get him to stop crying?"

"He adores Professor Snape," Draco said shortly. "And he apparently detests women, as he keeps glaring at Millicent."

"Well, I never!"

Yes, indeed, she likely had never, he thought darkly, scowling at her.

"Must take after his father a great deal," Blaise smiled, patting his wife's hand to soothe her a little. "Does he have godparents...?"

"No, actually," Draco admitted. "I'm afraid that... Well, with things being as they are..." No one wanted to admit to being friends with a Malfoy these days. That was all right with him.

"Well, the poor child should have someone," Millicent brayed loudly. "What if something happened to you, Draco? Hm?"

"That eventuality is covered," Draco replied coldly.

In response to Millicent's braying, Damon wrinkled his little nose, and tried to hide away against his father's chest.

"Who...?" Pansy pressed.

The arch of one of those blond brows was quite enough to still the already quiet conversation. The four of them were the only Slytherins in their year who had not died or been sent to Azkaban; it was disturbingly quiet. On the other hand, they each had one of the wide dorms to themselves, which suited Draco just fine. It meant neither of those brash creatures could touch his baby. /Mine,/ he thought smugly to himself.

"Pansy, love, it's none of our business, really," Blaise sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, but... he's such a darling thing, and I'd hate to know that he'd be cared for by something like a house-elf if you died, Draco," Pansy fretted softly.

"That eventuality is covered," he repeated, trying not to yell at her. He'd give his son to Potter before he'd give him to Pansy Parkinson-Zabini, and that was saying quite a lot!

Blaise let out a thready little sigh, and gave his wife's hand a squeeze -- as if it would silence her. Not enough luck for for him to have it work for long... "What've you been up to, Draco?"

"Writing, actually," he told the other man, nudging Damon's pacifier towards those tiny lips. He took it, but he didn't like to -- he was still busy glaring. "Potions work, somewhat, a few other things..." Fictional stories about redemption and choice, mostly.

He hadn't told Professor Snape about that, of course -- only mentioned in passing that he'd written a little fiction. Then again, Snape had all but leapt on the idea of Draco writing on potions, and hadn't even seemed to notice the mention of fiction.

Millicent smiled, though, when he said it. "What sort of other things...?"

"Oh, boring dry sorts of things, not interesting like potions," he declared, and Damon cooed at him, clutching at the collar of his shirt.

Tiny, slightly pudgy fingers clutched at the material, tugged it to one side as his baby made another soft noise. The other little hand reached for a lock of hair at the side of his head, and promptly clutched at the silver strands.

"I would've claimed it the other way around," Pansy grinned a little. "Your baby really is a beautiful thing, Draco -- only, he's got such an ill temper with everyone but you."

"And Professor Snape," Blaise added with a grin, "as proven by the fact that the man managed to stop the wailing. Who'd have thought it? Maybe Malfoys are just an odd lot," he winked.

"Are you sure he just didn't cast a silencing spell?" Pansy frowned, "Because your little boy stopped crying so quickly... I'm sure that my children would've been scared by the professor if they saw him."

"Quite sure," Draco drawled. "Damon liked the taste of his fingers, didn't you, my sweet?" He brushed a kiss over the baby's temple, an action that gained him little sighs from both women. /What is it about women and babies?/ he thought grumpily. "Well, little demon, shall we go to eat? It's surely almost that time..."

"You let him chew on the professor's hands?" Blaise looked green as he stood up, and pulled Pansy up with him. "Not to say anything mean about the professor, but with the things he works on..."

"He wouldn't have let him chew on anything if he'd been working on something dangerous," Draco drawled. "I'd trust the professor a lot farther than anyone else when it came to that. Can you imagine me allowing him to gnaw on the fingers of Neville Longbottom? I thought not," he said with a nod.

The pleasantly jostling movement of standing gained him a soft burble in his ear, and Damon leaned against him, tiny fingers tangled in Draco's hair still.

"I suppose not," Blaise nodded. "Well, let's go eat dinner. We might as well represent what's left of our house with a bit of pride, hmn?"

"Shame there aren't more of us," Millicent murmured almost morosely.

"We'll have to make do," Draco said proudly, shifting to grasp Damon's bag and take it with him.

"We've always made do," Pansy agreed, as Blaise all but dragged her towards the door and away from Draco's baby. His ears, quite frankly, couldn't take the wailing.

"Let's show them what it is to be Slytherin," Millicent agreed, and the lot of them marched off to the Great Hall.

Ron looked as antsy as he felt when he entered the Great Hall, just ahead of his group of friends. It was much the same as ever, only there were less tables out. Hermione's idea, of course, so that less of the household rivalry feeling could set up between them all. She was being too idealistic, in his opinion, though he wasn't going to say anything just then. The teachers were already there, talking among themselves or not, a good number of the Hufflepuffs, and all four Slytherins. Well, five if one counted the newest Malfoy, who Ron just knew would sort into that house eventually.

Not that he was staring at the baby. He was staring at the shirt Draco was wearing.

"I-I-I-I..." he spluttered.

"We haven't even eaten anything yet, Ron," Harry said. "You can't be choking...?"

"I-I-I... Oh, my GOD," he managed to scrape out, unable to tear his eyes away from IT.

IT.

That SHIRT.

It was black, and scrawled across the front of it in glittering green and silver that practically danced were the words, 'Snakes Swallow It Whole'.

Ron felt a nosebleed coming on as his blood pressure rose. "Fuck."

"Ron, what's wrong...?" Harry jostled his friend a little, but to no avail, until he looked up, too, and saw IT.

Oh.

"Damn," Seamus whispered. "The question now is, do we get to try it and find out?"

"Seamus!" Hermione gasped, jaw dropped slightly as she caught sight of it. "That... That's just indecent!"

"None of them seem bothered by it," Neville pointed out softly, gesturing to the rest of the Slytherins.

"Well, they're all perverts, aren't they!?" Hermione managed to get out, nearly traumatized. Hermione, it seemed, had been a parent so long that she had forgotten any other role or duty in life, and Harry simply rolled his eyes and gently led her towards a table.

She'd forgotten, it seemed, just how those children had come into being.

"Yeah, probably," Ron agreed past dry lips, jerking his head to look anywhere but the Slytherin table. But seeing Snape sitting at the teachers table, still smiling ever so slightly, was enough to send him into a fit again. "My nerves just can't take these kinds of surprises," he declared, reaching up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

"Well, Ron, I hope you won't get any more then," Neville said with a little smile. "We'd miss you if you were gone."

"Why don't we all just sit down...?" Seamus pressured, guiding Ron and Neville to sit down, too, across the table from Harry, Hermione and Dean.

/Right. Like anybody could sit comfortably after seeing THAT!/ Ron thought, letting Seamus push him into sitting. "Gyah..."

It seemed very obvious that his friends had been right in their passing comment. There Draco was, beautiful, fucking sexy, with a 'family' that was just waiting for that one more person to make it perfect. He had to have worn that shirt to catch Ron's eye!

"Wow," he said a little breathlessly, grinning in the direction of the Slytherins' table.

"What're you 'wow'ing, Ron?" Harry asked in a worried tone, leaning across the table to look at his friend.

"Hmm? OH. Oh!" Ron said, shaking his head. "What?"

"He's done in," Seamus said sadly. "Lost to the Dark Side, and all it took was a t-shirt..."

"It's so indecent!" Hermione fretted, glancing over at it again. "What will it do to that poor baby's mind...?"

"Herm, I'm more worried about what it's done to Ron's mind -- are you with us, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Huh?" Ron said vaguely, swallowing hard.

Dean nodded. "Yep. The Slytherin Sex God has Struck Again."

Before one more remark could sweep in at Ron, though, he was saved -- well, almost -- by Professor Dumbledore's voice filling up the cozy-feeling hall.

"What a pleasure it is to have all of you here with us! And what a pleasure it must be for all of you to see each other again -- eat, drink, talk, and please, get up and move about to see how your classmates have changed! That will be all! Nitwit!"

Nothing, it seemed, had changed in regards to Professor Dumbledore.

Plates filled, laughs sounded, and everyone was very shortly mingling together, walking with plates in hand, except for the Slytherins. They remained right where they were, haughtily holding court, with the exception of Draco. He simply glared at every woman who looked as if they'd like to touch Damon and waited.

Waited, Ron guessed, for him. Merlin, it was going to take an act of Divine Force to get him moving towards the glaring Slytherin, who only occasionally gave an off-handed comment to his companions.

"Gonna take a try?" Seamus whispered. "He's a prat, but I'll bet he's magnificent in bed!"

"Oh, Merlin, be quiet," Ron sighed, starting to his feet, half-eaten plate held in hand as he stood. "Just wish me luck."

"You're gonna need it," Seamus told him firmly, shaking his head. Ron had obviously lost his mind...

Well, it at least promised to make the reunion interesting.

Damon made a worrisome, questioning noise when he spotted the head of red hair walking towards Draco, and hid his face away for a moment as if to make it go away. "Hey, Draco..."

"Hello, Weasley," he drawled, raising an eyebrow. "On a first name basis now, are we? It's all right, sweet demon," he whispered atop Damon's head, tucking him close. "It's just a Weasley. There are tons of them."

"Not tons of us," Ron said with a flush dancing over his cheeks. "Just... well, I was just wondering how've you been. You seem a little different from how you were when we were just kids."

/Interesting.../ Well, it was. He'd never had this particular Weasley be friendly towards him, though Fred and George had been on occasion. "Well, ten years of seclusion will do that to you," Draco said, wondering what the point was.

"Why'd you seclude yourself for ten years...?" Draco didn't look like he'd secluded himself for ten years... no, not at all. If he'd been secluded somewhere, it was a place where he'd gotten more than enough fresh air.

The look that gained him as much as announced what an idiot Ron was. "Let me think, Weasley. There was this madman running about killing people and recruiting Slytherins left and right -- Voldemort, you know, that fellow? Can't imagine why I went off for ten years and kept to myself," Draco replied sarcastically.

Ron went a little pale, but... "But, Draco, you were... I mean, it wasn't like you had to join them, or... Never mind. So, what's you do while you were secluded?"

Stars. Answering the questions of Gryffindors. /Maybe,/ Draco thought, /I should have just come some other time to find out about him./

"He wrote. Potions work," Pansy announced primly. "Brilliant, really."

"Potions...?" Potions, oh, great, just like Snape, then... but no, Draco gave great head, the shirt as much as said so! Ron felt addled, but pressed on, "That's great, really. And what made you decide to have your little demon?"

THAT, Draco had to admit, was a question that went straight to his pride. "Weasleys have lots of children. Malfoys only rarely have more than one. I thought it was time to get a start," he declared as Damon peeked out and promptly hid his face again.

Ron gave a soft, nervous laugh, bending just a little. "He hides a lot -- shy...?"

"Apparently only with women," Millicent said sarcastically as Damon began to whimper and squirm.

Having his baby be so unhappy obviously had the same effect on Draco himself, because Ron noticed he was frowning. "Poor thing. Hey, Draco, I've got a room to myself if you want to talk without women around..." Well, not actually a room to himself, but there was a room in the dorms that was empty.

That didn't seem to help Damon any whole lot, as he began wailing at the mere suggestion, almost as if he knew what Ron was saying. "No, thank you, I think it would be better to just..."

"Just move along, Weasley." The potions master's voice hadn't changed at all since they'd graduated. It still sent shivers of fear down Ron's back, and he turned a little. "You're making the child cry."

"It grates on his ears," Pansy explained sweetly, and that made Damon cry even more loudly, refusing to be teased into complacence by bottle or toy or anything at all.

"Professor?" Draco sighed, looking up at him helplessly.

The man gave a very slight nod, hands reaching to touch the baby's cheek, grasp one tiny hand. "Damon...? The red-headed Weasel isn't much to be afraid of, young Malfoy." Not baby talk, as so many of the woman had subjected the baby to, but the professor's usual tones, low and seductive-sounding in Draco's ears.

It was almost humiliating that the baby stopped crying the moment those fingers touched him and then turned to gnaw on the things.

"He likes you," Draco explained with a smirk. "Can't say I blame him."

"It makes me wonder how much of your personality he's ended up with." Ron was all but brushed off, and completely ignored by them both. It wasn't fair! Snape sat down smoothly beside Draco on the bench, letting Damon grasp onto one lean finger and chew.

Ruefully, Draco shook his head. "A great lot of it, I suspect. He's a very spoiled demon, but I can't help myself. It's the way of Malfoys," he shrugged.

"Well," Ron said awkwardly. "I'll just be going along now, shall I?" He didn't even get a reply, which made it all the more humiliating. Perhaps it was only because Snape had showed up...?

"How strange," Pansy murmured to herself, though it was audible to all at that table. "I wonder why he wouldn't calm down so with a woman...?"

"He doesn't like them," Draco said pointedly.

"He didn't like Weasley, either," Blaise pointed out.

"It was all of that red hair. It's vulgar."

"Draco, he's none too fond of me, either," Blaise pointed out.

"How very odd, then," the head of their house mused -- without giving it more than a seconds thought, obviously, because he looked very unconcerned.

"He adores Professor Snape," Draco pointed out, Damon practically squirming over his shoulder to reach the dark-haired man.

"And you should probably let the professor hold him before he decides to crawl out of your arms," Blaise pointed out with a slight smile.

"Care to give it a whirl?" Draco asked, tilting back so that his shirt was in plain sight even with the squirming baby held up to Snape.

Snape took the baby in careful hands, settling Damon comfortably to be held in one arm, steadied by the other. Yet his eyes were without question on Draco's shirt. "Without a doubt I'd like to."


Tongue darted out, moistening lips. "By all means, then, do. He adores you, doesn't he? I knew my son would have excellent taste to accompany his excellent breeding."

THAT brought absolute howls of laughter from the remaining three Slytherins; it was, after all, so typically Malfoy, and even if the rest of the Hall thought they were mad, it didn't matter. At least they were alive, and not in Azkaban, and they could still manage to be themselves, not the softened, weakened things that the others expected them to be. And Draco could be sure that he'd made a good choice in coming, after all, because Damon gave them both a perfect excuse to interact. The baby was genuinely happy in the professor's arms, too, being jostled just a little, long fingers stroking over his back, while Damon grabbed a little fistful of black hair and just held.

Damon was very fond of hair.

"Well, Professor? Do you think we've mingled enough for the evening? To satisfy the rest of them, I mean," Draco asked with a pleased leer.

"I believe so. And, have you a room to yourself if we want to talk without women around...?" The purely wicked look in the man's eyes made Blaise burst into laughter -- apparently he, at least, had understood what Ron had been trying to imply with his pathetically worded bit.

"All to my lonesome," Draco agreed in a slow drawl that was quite enough to make even Millicent perk up.

"If you've had enough to eat, then... shall we go?" The professor moved back just slightly, waiting while Damon looked at his father, as if he was proud that he'd 'caught' Snape.

"Go where...?" Pansy managed to ask.

"Why, to look at the potions articles he's written, what else?"

"Much better than etchings, Pansy dear," Draco whispered as he stood, smiling wryly at the older man. "Maybe I'll even volunteer some of my fictional pieces later."

"It would hinge on just what sort of fiction it is..." When Draco was standing, they walked together -- past the other's tables, past the teachers with only a faint nod to Dumbledore, before Severus slipped out.

"All above-board and clean. Well, every bit of it that got printed, anyway," Draco replied, dangling Damon's diaper bag by its straps. He gave Severus a look that as good as promised he was as good as the shirt said. "Some of it was rather too naughty to print."

"It would've been most irregular if, during ten years of seclusion, you didn't write things that were far, far below board." Severus saw the look, and was suddenly very sure that the conclusion he'd made that morning was very right.

"Even smutty things that were far, far below board?" Draco teased.

"You're below the age of eighty, male and not an eunuch, correct?" Severus asked, his free hand moving to stroke Damon's downy-soft hair.

"Fully functioning in all ways," Draco agreed, smiling as Damon giggled and grasped that hand to gnaw upon its fingers.

The edges of Snape's mouth lifted a little as he let Damon mouth his loosely closed hand while they walked. "Then, I can't see any reason why what you wrote could be considered exceptionally odd."

"Hmmm." Oh, Draco was infinitely pleased with himself, and there was no hiding the fact that he was wildly excited in more ways than one. "Marvelous," he nearly purred.

"Does this... preempt our meeting of Sunday?" Severus drawled, taking a turn into the dungeons.

"I believe so, yes," Draco replied as they continued farther down, pausing outside of the concealed stone door in the wall that led to their common room. "Pride," he said simply, and it opened onto the warmth of the room within.

"I'm still interested in learning why..." But he wouldn't push for it, not if Draco didn't want to give him a why. After all, he could guess at that, too, and probably with just as much luck as he'd guessed the first one.

"I'd have thought you'd know," Draco said lightly, though his eyes said much, much more as they began the trek further down into the dungeons, leading towards the bedrooms below.

"Well, my memories of you have faded over a decade, Draco, so you'll have to forgive me for not immediately leaping to the simplest conclusion." He was walking close now, close enough for Damon to lean a little and get a handful of his father's hair, still leaning in Snape's arms.

"Sometimes, the simplest conclusions are the right ones," Draco told him a little huskily, laughing. "Sweet demon, don't pull out Daddy's hair. I'd like to keep it!"

"He seems to have a liking for hair -- yours in particular." Severus reached out a lean hand to untangle Damon's clutching fingers from Draco's hair, pulling carefully at those little digits, fingers brushing Draco's neck. Of course, he had to move closer, so Damon wouldn't pull to hard on any more that he caught... "I have a liking for it, too."

"That's remarkably good to know," Draco answered, mouth curving upwards, a distinctly sensuous sort of motion as he paused, extracting the last of his hair from Damon's clutch. "Night and day, aren't we?" he asked, glancing at Severus's own dark mop of glossy hair. As it was summer, and cool in the dungeons, it wasn't nearly so greasy as it was when he spent the winter slaving over cauldrons all day long. /I could get used to that,/ he decided.

"Outwardly exact opposites is so many ways," the potions masters agree, shifting Damon slightly in his arms. The baby gurgled in delight, leaning his face against Draco's shoulder. "If you've changed at all in the last decade, Draco, I would have to say that it's only been for the better."

With some care, Draco shifted the baby from Snape's arms to his own, and gained for his trouble a good pull of his hair as Damon latched hold of it again. "I hope you'll say that again tomorrow," he said wryly, sneaking a look up at Snape from beneath his lashes.

"Why would tomorrow make it any harder to say that...?" Snape was looking down at him, so close, lingering even though he didn't have to keep Damon close to his father any longer.

"It's been ten years," Draco said solemnly. "I might not be as good as I think. Even riding a broomstick might be hard after that long without, don't you think?"

"I think you're overestimating me if you think it's something I've kept up with, myself," the professor murmured, leaning near enough to almost kiss Draco.

"Oh," Draco whispered, shifting slightly closer. "I don't think I'm overestimating you at all." And his lips touched the other man's, and parted, and moved, tasting him lightly, so lightly.

All it took was for Severus to tilt his head a little for the kiss to turn perfect, warm lips parting to move bettered against Draco's. Light, careful pressure, angled to stir but not inflame Draco entirely. A dart of tongue against the younger Wizard's bottom lip, lingering at the edge. "Nor I, you."

"It's good we're so confident in one another's skills," Draco managed to whisper, his own reaching out to taste the same flesh and catching Severus's lightly. That resulted in another of those perfect kisses, and it made him shiver with the pleasure of it. /Merlin, yes.../

Black strands of hair slid forwards, caressing over his cheek when Snape leaned down into the slow kiss. Warmth seemed to spread down his spine, lingering at his lips where Draco's mouth was, and the sweet tangle there. "Perhaps we should move to your bedroom?" What to do with Damon, though -- the potions master was well aware of the baby's presence, because one tiny hand had decided to catch hold of his robes.

"That sounds like a very good idea," Draco whispered, and Damon squealed in seeming agreement, waving both hands despite the fact that they were attached to Snape's robes and his father's hair, respectively. "Ow..."

"Very much his father's son," Snape breathed against Draco's mouth, lean hands untangling the baby's fists again, both from Draco's hair and his own robes. "Which one have you been placed into...?"

"Third from the left on the bottom level," Draco answered, Damon squealing again and reaching for Snape's robes once more. He didn't quite catch them, for Draco laughed at him and pulled him close once again. "The others are on second level."

"How conveniently close to my own rooms," Snape told him, leading the way again -- still near, but not so near, as they walked, that Damon could snatch a hold of anything again. "You'll have to forgive me if I slip and call you Mr. Malfoy occasionally... Draco."

"That's all right, Professor," he said in return, slanting a look his way. "That might be a little fun.. and just a tad kinky..."

The older Slytherin arched an eyebrow at Draco, lips curling upwards for a moment in a pleased expression. "School boy fantasies?"

"You can't imagine how many nights I laid in that bed and thought of you," Draco drawled, cheeks flushing distinctly. "It tells on a man's thoughts after a while."

Pale cheeks flushing to a scarlet red was a beautiful thing that made Draco seem to gleam more than he already did in the familiar torchlight. "You were the cause of many Gryffindor detentions -- those brats distracted me from some of the most... enjoyable daydreams of bending you over your desk and fucking you."

"Maybe we could do that later," Draco suggested breathlessly.

Given that it was the start of summer, it was certainly an option. "And what will we do with Damon...?"

Draco grinned. "He naps every afternoon at four for an hour. Nothing wakes him. He's perfect, aren't you, sweet demon?" he asked. Damon's head bobbled happily by way of answer and then he squealed again, delighted. "Sleeps all night, too," Draco said, giving Snape a sideways glance.

The implications of that were obvious to them both; Severus clearly appreciated that idea, from the way he turned on the bottom step of the stairs, and pressed a soft kiss to the baby's forehead. "He is perfect."

"And he obviously has excellent taste," Draco agreed as the tiny boy patted Severus's face.

The smug look on the older Wizard's face said his agreement plainly, as he backstepped, and moved towards the third door. "Warded, or simply locked?"

"Just locked," Draco answered, "though Dobby might be in warming Damon's bed..."

"Dobby...? Ah, so that's where he went..." Right back to the Malfoys, though Snape had no doubt that Draco treated his elves better than Lucius had. A quick mutterance, and the third door sprang open before Severus even had a chance to lower his wand.

"Oh, is Master Draco back again? Cradle is all warm! Dobby made sure, and bottles on dresser... EEE! Is Professor!" the elf declared, ears flapping excitedly.

Snape never could tell if that was a good, excited 'eee', or a bad, frightened 'eee'. House-elves were hard to fathom creatures, no matter what. He let Draco go in first, Damon making delighted noises over all the fuss he'd been on the receiving end of, and then closed the door behind himself when he came in. "Yes, Dobby, it's Professor Snape."

The house elf nod-nod-nodded 'til it seemed that his head was going to bobble right off. "Yes, yes. Have missed Professor and requests for sweets. Yes, yes!" he declared, and Draco laughed, tucking Damon into the cradle near to one of the beds.

"Indeed," he said dryly. "And good night, sweet demon. Close your eyes..." A wave of a wand created a lullaby and brightly colored little blobs of color that danced over the bassinet.

Damon cooed at the floating blobs of color, fingers reaching for them for a few moments, before he snuggled in. That left Draco free to turn and see Snape glaring bloody murder at the house-elf for spilling the secret of his sweet tooth.

"Dobby, why don't you run along to the kitchens," Draco suggested, trying awfully hard not to smile. It was nearly a lost battle, but he managed, somehow. Somehow.

"Yes, yes! Dobby think he'll do just that!" the little elf squeaked, and promptly made himself scarce.

"Brilliant, for an elf," Snape muttered, glancing over to Damon and his bassinet. "So, he's asleep...?"

"For the next eight hours," Draco agreed, wondering precisely what would come next as he leaned a thigh against the high poster bed.

Given that most Wizards functioned perfectly on six hours of sleep... Two hours, at least, to enjoy themselves. Severus gave a definitive nod, and moved forwards towards the pale younger Wizard. "Then we should make the very best of it..."

"That sounds just..." Draco whispered, and moved to meet him, arms wrapping tightly about the other man's neck as he pressed close, tight. "Perfect..."

"I half expect your father to pop out from behind a curtain any moment now, to kill me," Severus drawled as he evaded Draco's mouth, and caught the side of his jaw instead, to nip there with surprising calm.

"I think I won't think about that," Draco decided with a little gasp, head dropping back to offer more of that jawline, more of his throat. "I think... Oh, GOD, that feels nice..." he whispered, hands shifting down to touch surprisingly firm arms hidden beneath the man's robes.

Oh, unexpected, but nevertheless a wonderful thing! Robes were deceiving things, and touch was so much more reliable... "Shall I show you how correct that shirt you're wearing is, Draco?"

"I think I'd love that," Draco purred, fingers shifting to dance down the buttons that hid the man beneath them. "I think I'd love that a lot."

A pointed suck could be felt against the pulse point between the edge of Draco's jaw, and the cords of his neck, and then Snape's tongue lathed lazy apology atop it. "I think you will... and I know you know the divestment spells, so use one..."

"Ohh, no," came the whisper, those fingers weaving slow magic all their own in a mundane fashion. "This is something I definitely want to do for myself. I've been thinking about it for almost fourteen years..." His first wet dream had been about Severus Snape, something to do with a potion and the man standing over him, as he recalled. "I'd hate to go and rush it now..."

"Then I'll have to simply content myself in covering your neck with marks until you've decided to give up on the buttons." Two full layers of them to cut through, Snape was aware of. At least Draco's shirt would pull right up off of his body, over slender arms, pale, beautiful skin... "I've done a great deal of dreaming, myself. You're going to scream so loudly that the Gryffindors will hear you."

"Oh, GOD, yes," Draco agreed, finally making his way through the first set of buttons only to find the second set belonging to a soft, crinkled white linen shirt beneath it. "My. You are well covered," he sighed, beginning to work his way down those as well, finally getting to flesh. His fingertips lingered over it, teased at it, slid inside of the shirt to caress wantonly. "I hope I keep them up all night," he whispered.

"We should put a charm over Damon so he won't awaken from the noise," Severus murmured, his own hands shifting and pulling Draco's shirt until he had his fingers wrapped around Draco's bared waist, searching for buttons so he could bare Draco's lower body, too. Draco's fingers were caressing half testingly, half knowingly, over the firm flesh, of his torso, over smooth skin.

"Mmmmm," Draco agreed, and his own mouth met warmth, the taste of skin and salt and bittersweet, the winging delicacy of collarbone exposed by the finally opened white shirt. "Can you reach..." he whispered against that damp flesh. "...a wand?"

Severus tilted his head back, fingers finishing off with the last of the buttons. They curled over Draco's cock atop the silken material of his boxers. "I believe I have..." With his free hand, he slipped the wand from his white shirt's sleeve, flicking it in the direction of the crib.

The little sound that Draco had given upon being touched had been intensely erotic; indeed, it had almost been enough to make Severus drop his wand, his hands shook so badly, but he managed to cast the spell all the same as Draco continued undressing him, shoving hurriedly now at robes and pants and pushing slightly to get everything else off of him.

Lean fingers kneaded gently, slipping over the wet spot on that silken fabric. Snape shrugged out of his shirt, letting go of Draco's prick long enough to toss his shirt and outer robes aside. Then before Draco had a chance to rid him of any more clothing, the potions master all but fell upon him, down to his knees and leaning forwards to free the younger Wizard's erection.

Severus may have temporarily lost his own wand in the fray, but he was sure to have a close grasp on the wand that was nearest and dearest to Draco.

In fear that his knees would give out at the mere sight, Draco leaned back against the bed, a hand going to one of the posts to help hold him upright. A deep breath pulled in didn't do much to calm him, so he let it out again, hands shaking, and reached for the darker man, shuddering with his touch. "Fuck..." he whispered, biting down on his lower lip.

Snape leaned, lips closing around the proud head of Draco's cock to suck for just a moment, tongue pressing against it. Then he pulled back just enough to murmur, "Do you care to try something more creative, on the bed...?"

"I think we can arrange that," Draco answered hoarsely, promptly pushing off the remains of his clothing and slipping up onto the high bed, holding out a hand to Severus, pure mischief suddenly gleaming in those grey eyes. "Come..."

The last of Severus's clothing hit the floor, pants discarded to reveal that the robes had been entirely too concealing of a very nicely formed body. Draco found his hand grasped, and Severus stretched out beside him on the bed -- but not so that he could kiss Draco's lips. No, his head was instead down by the younger Wizard's groin, picking up right away where they'd left off.

"Ohhhh..." He couldn't help that sound or the way that he bit his own lips almost as if to quiet it. "I was right," he said shakily, shuddering. "It does feel like being swallowed whole..." Carefully, he shifted, arms reaching for Severus's hips, tugging him closer, bringing him into reach. The man's cock was lovely, uncut and long. His fingers curled about it slowly, and he slid his tongue across the folds of skin, delving beneath carefully. "Hmmm..."

A shiver of sensation at the careful, stealing touch of that tongue, tasting salty musk just as Severus was doing the same. It nearly stole the other man's breath from him, as he kissed down the underside of Draco's cock. "Lovely..."

Delicious, Draco thought, and his brain was failing him, preferring to consider the musky smell and the texture of impossibly soft skin beneath his fingertips. One hand moved to clutch at Severus's hip, the other to gingerly cup the heavy weight that hung roundly beneath that hardness, and he ran his nose lightly from belly to root to tip. "Ohhh, yes..." Yes, and then he slipped his lips around the tip and ever so tenderly sucked.

He didn't have to drag Severus any closer, because with that suckle the other Wizard strained to shift his hips nearer to Draco's hot mouth. It had been too long since someone had done, particularly someone that he wanted to do the same to; it certainly stirred him to enthusiastic reciprocation, nipping and sucking along the prominent vein just beneath the swollen head of Draco's cock. It was a beautiful piece of work, and Severus was glad that it wasn't being wasted on a woman.

It felt deliciously sinful to lay there on dark green velvet, feather mattress moulding around them as they shifted, moaned, sucked. Draco's fingers feathered over Severus's inner thighs, teasing at him, and the taste of the man was in the back of his throat as he whined and took him deep, one hand coming to rest on the professor's ass to tug at him, pull him closer even though he didn't need to, even though he was already so close that it was almost difficult to breathe.

/So good... so perfect... so everything.../

Lips closed over Draco's cock again, sucking with perfect suction as the older Wizard pulled it into his mouth by teasing degrees. Draco seemed to be trying to simply overwhelm him with the perfect sensations, but Severus would make it last. An act of sheer will to not just give in when he felt Draco's throat flutter against the head of him, but he managed. Barely.

Barely.

The blond shifted against him, high-pitched whine sounding from his throat, and it was more than obvious that he was enjoying it -- enjoying it so immensely that he shook, hands trembling with each passing caress that Draco gave. It was all give and take, the fulfillment of desires that had not been slaked for long years, wants and needs that had gone ignored. Neither wanted it to end too quickly; yet how could there not be an immediate need when every part of it was so much pleasure that it almost hurt?

Still, if immediate need was filled then, they had the rest of the night to drag it out. Severus assured himself of that, between the spell cast over the bassinet and Draco's own words on how well the baby slept. Hours left... Severus took Draco in deep suddenly, down to the very root, still sucking. Why not give in to passion's call?

"MMN!!" Draco's entire body tensed with that motion, barely resisting the urge to come, shatter into thousands of well-pleasured pieces at the feel of it. Two more good strong sucks and he couldn't avoid it anymore, spilling explosively down Severus's throat.

A taste that was almost unfamiliar except for the occasional taste of his own, Severus carefully drank it down, letting little spill. His own hips hitched against Draco, trying to urge the younger man to more, to give him the same completion. It was all that Draco could do to think that far in the state that he was in, but he managed; managed to remember what he was doing and to suck hard, swallowing around the heavy erection in his mouth with unmistakable want.

The swallow tossed Severus over completion. The blond wizard felt lean hips jerk forwards against him, driving home until he was all but smothered, and forced to swallow a sudden gout of semen.

By the time he managed to pull away, he was trying to catch his breath, and also trying desperately not to laugh at himself. "Never thought," he panted a little, "that would go so fast. Wanted for... SO long..."

"We still have all night..." Severus's voice dipped into a sensual drawl, as he turned his head a little to kiss the inside of Draco's thigh. "And tomorrow you can go see the rest of your classmates while bleary-eyed and debauched."

"That sounds just beautiful," Draco agreed almost dreamily, nuzzling the tender flesh where thigh met body, tongue darting out to trace over it lightly. "Hmmmm. All night..." And tomorrow night, he hoped. And maybe quite a few nights after that, but he wasn't going to bring that up just yet... "And we can have 'tea' around four..."

"Without question." The dart of Draco's tongue made him shiver and close his eyes for a moment. He reciprocated the gesture, biting lightly at the inside of Draco's thigh, a thin path from there to the base of Draco's sated cock. "I think Mrs. Potter might have something planned... but she can bloody well piss off." His own plans were obviously more important, and those plans were detailed heavily in enjoying Draco's wonderful self.

Husky laughter sounded, Draco nuzzling against him. "Hmmmmmm, yes," he agreed, lips pressing to the roundness of testicles with a light brush. "Still a busybody, she is. Always up to something. Still can't believe she got better scores than me in Transfiguration!" Not that she'd managed it in Arithmancy or Potions, but still. "I can think of many more pleasant things to do," he whispered, cheek pressed to Severus's thigh.

Like teasing his mouth over sensitive skin that nearly sang from the first touches Draco had left on it. Severus had to move, though, and swung his body away from Draco so that he could come around and kiss the younger Wizard's mouth. "We could make a weekend of it." His research could go to rot for a weekend.

"That sounds just magnificent," Draco agreed in a whisper, opening to him, melting against him. Actually, the next hundred and twenty years sounded better, but... /One step at a time, Malfoy, old boy. One step at a time.../ "D'you suppose those stupid Gryffindors might come barging in to be sure I haven't offed myself if we just don't come out of bed all weekend?"

Kissing laying down was almost better than kissing while standing up -- perhaps it was the comfort of hte bed, or the fact that there weren't clothes between their two bodies to hinder the press of skin against skin, muscle to muscle. Severus felt drunk just from kissing Draco, and ate idly as the younger Wizard's mouth while he mused over a reply. "Why ever would you kill yourself?"

"Wouldn't," Draco denied between kisses. "Not stupid enough." He liked that steady twist of tongue and lip, the taste of Severus's kisses. "But you never know." Another one, lingering, sliding down to the older man's throat and teasing at the throbbing pulse before moving to kiss a collar bone. "They might hope."

"If they hoped, why would they even bother looking? Mm, don't stop that..." Severus let a hand cup the back of Draco's head, sliding into silky pale strands. He tried to coax more from the younger Wizard by roiling his hips up against Draco, rubbing their groins together.

"Wouldn't dream of it..." Draco whispered, hardening again. His tongue darted out to taste the slightly damp flesh at the hollow of Severus's throat and he groaned, the salty taste of fresh sweat delicious. "Don't ever want to stop," he breathed, hands roaming, flattening out over sides, over hips, teasing.

That was something to note, and file away for perusal at a later time. For then, though, Severus simply breathed, "Then don't stop..." His body arched in a graceful motion against Draco, fingers of his free hands reached down to tease along the crevice of Draco's firm ass.

The motion gained him a little hitch of breath, a pause in Draco's motion, a sound that was very very wonderful to hear. "Wouldn't dream of it," he repeated, voice a low purr as he nipped with some amount of consideration, biting Severus's shoulder.

Biting, ohh... Severus closed his eyes, and made an encouraging noise, fingers stroking slowly in response to Draco's noise. "Better to dream of other things..."

"Yes..." That affirmative was good, and gained him another sharp bite of white teeth, tongue lathing over the red mark left behind. "Good...." God, he was so hard! Draco shivered; he hadn't gotten hard again like that since... Well, since the last time he'd been in a room with Severus Snape, he thought wryly.

And now he had the man, beneath him, arching up to him and baring his neck, anything Draco wanted. Severus's own cock was stirring to life languidly once more, something that amazed him beyond grasp -- already, he wanted more! "You're going to be... bloody exhausted by morning..." he promised.

"Wonderful. I hope I walk funny, too," Draco said, lifting his face to smirk down at the older man, strands of silken platinum hair falling to frame that look.

"I can certainly arrange that -- have you yet, Draco?" He would've been highly surprised if the young man atop him hadn't.

"...does it matter?" Draco asked, suddenly worried that the answer he gave wouldn't be the correct one. It had just been the once, and that had been nearly twelve years prior to this moment where they lay naked together...

"Not at all," Severus purred in bemusement, "as long as you aren't expecting a blushing virgin for a lover, either." Flushed with lust, and a bit overexcited, yes, but certainly not blushing. "I only asked with your ease in mind."

Relieved, Draco's mouth twisted upward in a little smile, not quite a smirk. "Once. Twelve years ago." /And I was thinking about you the entire time./ That was why he hadn't ever done it again.

"Must not have been so good," Severus drawled in a sultry whisper, leaning up to catch those twisted lips in his mouth. Draco's worry was something else to tuck away -- one just didn't worry over a one-night stand!

"Wasn't you," Draco whispered against them, unable to lie about it despite wanting to. He'd been able to lie to Blaise about it, of course; at the time, he'd simply murmured the appropriate words, done the deed, but the whole time, he'd been thinking about someone else. It had been an appalling letdown. "Could've been better, I'm certain."

Long fingers stroked through his hair, lingering with unexpected, and unthought of tenderness. "Then let us see how it can be now." And just as quickly as Severus had initially taken him into his mouth, Draco found himself rolled over, with Severus now atop him.

Legs tangled, and Draco brought one of his up to press against Severus's erection, chuckling to find himself pressed into the mattress. "I think... it will be very... VERY... GOOD."

"I think so, too." That was an assured purr of noise, while the older wizard thrust against that leg with a dip of his hips. "So you wanted this for years...?"

"Used to think about it in class," Draco answered, moaning as his own cock brushed carefully against a hipbone. "Could hardly think about anything else the year I was fifteen!"

The motion came again, slower this time, and Severus moaned with him when a slight side-shift brought their cocks together. "You don't have to think any longer..." Because very shortly, once he'd teased them both into a frenzy, Snape was going to lose himself in Draco's body.

The blond man shifted with him, arched, shuddered. "God, that feels so..." he managed to grind out, reached between them to tease fingers over their cocks, pressing them together. "So..." Tongue darted out, tasted his own mouth before he leaned up and pressed lips to Severus's, devouring him whole.

Wanton.

Debauched.

Needy.

Most importantly, his. Giving himself over, every dark shadow swept out for Severus to observe, every want and little weak point -- a risk for Draco, but he was trusting the professor to not abuse it. Something was murmured against his lips, Severus slipping a hand between Draco's back and the bedding. Grey eyes caught sight of a glassy glint in the older Wizard's hand, and felt slick fluid pouring over their cocks.

Draco gave an audible gasp, whole body stiffening slightly as he fumbled loose a soft curse and a groan. "Feels almost too good," he finally managed to say, shuddering. "Feels... GOD!"

"Louder," Severus encouraged, slipping down enough to do what Draco had done for him -- bite lightly at his neck, kiss and suck snow-pale skin that seemed to beg to be marked. Slippery fingers pumped over them both for a moment, then stole between Draco's legs, one knee parting them further open. "I want to hear your screams echo from the walls..." If his voice sounded a bit ragged, a bit panting, it was excusable. "Use your beautiful voice."

"God, yes, God, yes.." It seemed to be all he could ramble loose, those words, and his whole body was arching into Severus's touches, into mouth and fingers and the press of skin on skin. He gave a little cry as a thumb pressed behind his balls, caressing over the tender flesh there with a firmness that made the blood-filled flesh above it twitch. "PLEASE, fuck, yes!"

Severus wanted to milk those noises from Draco for hours, and probably could if he could just force down his own lust enough to pull it off. Not at the moment, though. At the moment, it was all he could do to tease at the younger Wizard, thumb slipping down to press into him. "'Please'?"

"Please," Draco rambled hoarsely, gasping as that digit opened him, made him squirm. His face was flushed with heat, and he was pushing up to the touch despite the stretching feeling of it, or maybe even because of it. "Please, God, please, yes, Merlin, Professor..." It sounded almost bizarre to call him that, but... "Oh, yes. Severus..." That name felt so good on his lips that he had to give it again, groaning loudly.

Lips dragged mercilessly over his chest, kissing and nipping without care for response -- it was more to taste the young Wizard beneath him, at least until he fastened his mouth over one perked nipple. It received its first strong suckle when he slid his thumb into Draco's body.

Heat flooded the blond man, a cracked cry loosening from his throat as his entire body arched into that touch. It brought him closer to Severus, the digit deeper into his body, and he wrapped his legs tightly around Severus's, hands moving up to clutch at strands of black hair as fine as Damon's. "FUCK!"

It sounded like a pleased sort of noise, an outcry of... pleasure? Enjoyment? He couldn't tell, only that Draco was trying to goad him to more. His twitched his thumb, bending it a little, before bringing a slicked finger to press against the entrance to join it. "Patience, Draco..."

"Don't... have any," Draco declared, and it wasn't a lie. He was tight around Severus's thumb, and the finger that crept in beside it slick with unknown potion made him moan, shifting restlessly beneath the other man's touch. "Good..."

Lips lowered again, tickled against his nipple. "Yes, it is... I want you." There was possession in his voice, as he worked that finger in steadily, parting them after a moment.

"YES!" It was pure, raw sound, and Draco was shifting his hips up impatiently for more of that touch, more of Severus's hands, more of everything. "Yes, please, please. Wanted so long. So... so... PLEASE!" Since he knew what it was. What sex was. What he wanted. What he needed....

"Do you want me to fuck you, Draco...? Is that what you want? My cock inside your body... child?" A teasing, sharp drawl, as his fingers slid out of Draco, moving to slip over his already slicked cock. "You're beautiful, Draco. Exquisite in ways that your father never was..."

The implications there were more than a little perverted, and they definitely made him hot. Oh, they made him want it even worse than he had before, and his eyes opened, gleaming up and into black. "YES, I want you to fuck me.. Professor," he returned just as prettily as he'd been called child.

His legs were shifted when Severus sat back, hands grasping Draco's legs behind the knees to pull them up over his shoulders. "This is every detention I could never give you." The words made Draco's cock jump visibly, his lips parting as he pulled in a deep, shuddering breath, the imagery wild in his mind.

"Please...!"

It was clear that Severus knew what he was doing, when he dipped his hips against Draco's, just enough to wedge the head of his cock against Draco's fluttering entrance. A little breath of anticipation left him, and he tried to not simply delve in too quickly.

"Please..." It was a plaintive whimper, and the pressure that began to push him open slowly made him groan, hands reaching up to clutch at his own hair wildly. "OH, GOD! Fuck... Fuck... YES....!"

Hands rubbed at the sides of his legs, massaging and rubbing as he pushed in with an aching slowness. "Merlin, you're tight!"

"B-been.. long time," Draco panted, whole body flexing up to the man. The tight stretching made him moan; it stung, more than a little, but it also felt so incredibly fucking good that he thought he could come right then with little more than a touch, the proper shift of Severus's body. "Oh, GOD, YES!"

So long, it felt, that Draco might as well have been a virgin. As Severus pushed in, he was ready to swear that his cock was going to be snapped right off by the tight muscle. "Push out -- Draco, oh, push out."

That made it easier, helped him to slide in and brush delicately against the inner wall, drawing another strangled cry from the bitten red lips that were parted for breath. Draco's face was flushed, his eyes slitted, and there was no question that Severus was deeply wanted. "Fuck.. PLEASE..."

Fuck, please. Severus would have to comment on it later -- because for the moment, he did just what Draco had been begging. Bent down over the shorter body, caught those beautiful lips, and started to thrust his hips without any other warning.

The stinging died down and Draco flexed his entire body to meet Severus's motions, short, sharp cries spilling from within him every time they met, body to body. His cock was crushed between them and he shuddered, shifting his arms to tug at the dark man, pulling him down to steal his lips again, the last kiss not enough. Even then, he couldn't muffle his cries as he shook, shifting with every lunge, whole body given over to the action in that moment.

Hard, thrusting motions, and Draco could swear they were shifting over the bed -- it was very possible, since the roiling kisses that neither were going to let end disoriented them both. Smooth skin, and a tickle of hair, rubbed over his arching cock, as the older wizard continued to thrust into him. So, so close...

Close, it turned out, to the edge of the bed, for his head was over it and half of his shoulder, as well, before he managed to let loose and gasp out the other wizard's name. "Severus! We're falling off of the bed!"

Too late for it -- with an ill timed thrust, they fell. Right over, and onto the floor, though Severus all but snarled a spell to cushion their joined slip.

Despite the jar of it, Draco was laughing as they began to untangle themselves. He was fairly certain he'd bruised a hip, and he'd hit his funnybone, to boot. "Next time," he said, "I think we should get a bigger bed."

"Mine," Severus agreed, as a shift brought him the rest of the way out of Draco, and he simply loomed over his partner, regathering his breath. "Damn the luck."

"It just means we get to start over," Draco assured him, argent eyes turning dark for a moment as he gave a feral smile, standing to push Severus back into the bed.

Grey gaze turned from silver to steel was formidable, though Severus let himself be prodded backwards. "Start over where we were," the professor asked, "Or start over, period?"

"Start over," Draco purred simply, allowing the other man to sit and lean back before he came over him, knees on either side. "Just... Start over. I want to do..." His mouth caught Severus's, moved once more to nip at a shoulder. "EVERYTHING."

"This is what I deserve for being slow enough for you to pick things up," Severus moaned quietly, pressing towards that nip. His hands lifted entirely of their own will, to grasp Draco's waist, stroking down to his hipbones.

"You think?" Draco asked him, prodding him further into the bed. He was going to make very sure that they were in the middle of it before he did any of the things he wanted to do, and he fully intended to do quite a few of them.

Almost reluctantly, Severus agreed. "Unfortunately. And tomorrow we're going to be in my quarters." Because the bed was larger, among many other things.

"That sounds..." A hand trailed down his side, grasping the slick protrusion of muscle at his groin and stroking. "Delightful."

Draco had the joy of watching Severus's face go completely lax in pleasure, a moan slithering loose. "That's perfect, Draco..."

The blond man kissed him again, now slick fingers heading further down. He wanted, for the moment, to see if Severus liked being touched there as much as he did, and the pure and complete intention wasn't going to be denied. "Like this...?" he whispered, parting cheeks slowly, teasing his way closer... closer...

He halfway had his answer, because Severus didn't stop him, or say a word of protest -- and Severus Snape was nothing if not a man who was quick to say you were doing something wrong. Draco found his lips caught fiercer, and a hand at his hip dragged him closer still. "Like that..."

It was the absolute pinnacle of every wet dream he'd ever had, Draco decided, finger sliding inside slickly as he moaned, feeling the clutch around it. Professor Severus Snape, naked and wanting to do anything that he wanted to do, too... and he truly hoped that anything was every good thing he'd ever considered! "Is this all right...?"

"I'll have to turn you into something... ohhh, disgustingly cute if you stop moving your hand..." His own hand clutched at Draco's side, pulling him closer in want. His hips pushed up to that finger, and a panted breath left him. "More."

"Disgustingly cute?" It was a breathed question, but he didn't stop, couldn't bring himself to stop, could only pry at that delicate aperture with fervent touch, needy fingers. "Such as?" As if either of them could think well enough to come up with such a thing!

"Something... something... pink." It was the best that Severus could come up with, as he slid a long leg around behind Draco's thighs, trying to jerk him closer. "Now..."

"Now," Draco agreed, obeying. Pink was quite a threat, but truth be told he wanted to be where Severus was pushing him so much he could hardly think!

Fingers slipped loose, with barely enough preparation, and Severus tugged again, trying to drag his companion into him. He was still needy from what they'd been doing before, and both of them were still well-slicked thanks to his pervasive potion. "Fuck me."

"If you say that again, I swear I'll come before I can," Draco gasped out, shuddering as he began to push slightly, wanting inside, wanting to take the man and to come in him and to just do anything so long as it was body to body, flesh to flesh.

Severus was guiding it, hands sliding down to Draco's ass to pull him closer with a jerk of motion. Closer and in -- his own ragged moan sounded in the room, a pleasured outcry at the sudden stretching-stuck-filled feeling. "Fuck yes... Ah, yes... Ahh..."

So much for control.

Draco groaned, shuddering, tugging at sweat-damp locks of black hair to pull him close, to kiss him again. Hips shifted, pistoned back and forth in a quick, hard motion, leaving little time for adjustment. He wasn't sure he could wait for anything at all, and he hoped to God Severus would be able to take it, because if he couldn't, they'd have to switch positions again, and Draco just knew he'd come all over the place if they had to change again!

Kisses muffled any noises of discomfort that might have come when Draco started his frantic pace, and Severus was goading it on with legs wrapped tight around him, hands that pulled him in deeper. Perfect, with every jolt of Draco's cock -- not too much in any direction, and far from too little -- scraping over his prostate or nudging it. Caught between their bodies, his cock, already so close, felt as if it were going to be rubbed right off.

They were trembling, both of them, and shifting across the mattress again with the sheer force of motion and wanton activity. Draco's hands braced against the velvet beneath them, breath panting out sharply as he shifted his thighs almost underneath Severus to tilt him up, offer a better angle, and his eyes closed tightly. Almost... Almost... If he could just hang on...

The steady caress of lips broke, just long enough for Severus to gasp out something that was loud and utterly incoherent, before Draco felt a hot splash against his belly, and then another pulse of it. Muscles clutched around him suddenly, and Severus's entire body seemed to seize up, hands clutched tight onto the blond man's back. It was more than enough incentive for Draco to cry out as well, a sharply strangled sound that echoed back from the walls. Two more sharp thrusts of hip and thigh and he came, shuddering from the sheer wild pleasure of it even as he collapsed onto Severus's body, thoughts and breath both having escaped him entirely.

The older wizard was still wrapped tightly around him, minutes later, when movement was thinkable once more, and thought almost possible. "That... was worth waiting for," Snape purred near his ear, because Draco hadn't moved from where he'd collapsed atop him.

"'d wait for it again," Draco mumbled in agreement, face nuzzling into the hollow of Severus's throat. Maybe not another fourteen years, though. No, that would be much too long. "We don't have to wait for it again, do we?"

Long fingers were playing at the back of his neck, and shoulders, caressing lazily over sinew, but with a great deal of interest in the touch. "Not on my account."

"Oh, good," Draco said sleepily. "Another fourteen years would be unbearable."

"Another fourteen years, and I'll probably be teaching Damon. Go to sleep -- I believe we deserve... need a rest." And he wasn't planning on moving to shift the velvet bedding at all. Draco was still partly in him, and warmth and sweat and heat left over was more than enough to keep him comfortable through the night.

A little sigh filtered over his skin, teasing at it, cooling it, and he felt Draco's mouth shift into a smile. "Wake me if you get cold," he managed to murmur, and then he closed his eyes, and he slept, as easy as that.

The idea of the class reunion seemed much more attractive to Severus Snape in the moments between that and his own sated slumber.

Blaise sat almost stoically between Pansy and Millicent as the two women whispered back and forth.

"And then," Millicent whispered, "I heard the professor moaning! And Draco was laughing!"

"Laughing? What sort of laughter?" Pansy looked curious -- they had all seen Draco and the professor leave, but...

"Giggling," Millicent declared with a firm nod. "I can't believe the two of you didn't hear them! I'm sure that if we'd gotten in any earlier last night instead of staying out so late..."

"I think I heard them -- but, well, I just put it down to Peeves making noise," Pansy nodded. "Do you really think they were...?"

"Do we have to talk about this?" Blaise sighed.

"Yes," they both told him simultaneously.

"We want to know!" Pansy insisted.

"Hell," Millicent muttered under her breath, "I want to watch..."

"I'm not sure I would," Blaise sighed, stabbing a fork idly into his breakfast. "But I think you're both hallucinating. It was probably just the baby making noises in his sleep."

"TRUST me," Millicent informed him dryly, "NONE of those were baby noises."

"Making baby noises, maybe," Pansy muttered, face flushed. "If they could, I mean."

"Now I'm very sure I don't want to think about it. Draco's fine, but the professor...? That way...? I'd rather not, Pansy." Making baby noises indeed!

"You'll see," Pansy told him primly as a fair number of Gryffindors came in, the lot of them blurry-eyed and not quite awake. "Just you wait."

"What're you Slytherins waiting on?" Ron huffed, as he and his fellow Gryffindors moved towards a table. "Us to pass out from lack of sleep? Very funny joke..."

"What?" Blaise asked, his brows rising. "What sort of joke are you whining about, Weasel?"

"You know what sort of joke," Seamus yawned, smirking. "All of that racket. Couldn't keep Pansy quiet after dark, could you? Well," he admitted, "it didn't SOUND much like Pansy, but it couldn't have been what it did sound like, so obviously it must've been a spell or a joke," he seemed to decide.

Pansy scowled at Seamus sharply. "I don't know what you're talking about -- all three of us went into Hogsmeade last night -- in fact, you saw us leave!"

"You didn't just set up a spell beforehand?" Ron blurted out, paling. "Oh, ew. Then it really was..."

The doors to the Great Hall opened again and Draco walked in, squealing babe in arms, with Professor Snape right behind him. He paused, raising one pale brow and looking at all of the Gryffindors gathered about the Slytherin table. "Hmmm...?"

"You make a damn lot of racket!" Dean blurted out right away. It gained a barely raised brow from Snape, who veered just a little to be the first person to sit at the teacher's table.

For a moment, Draco seemed startled, and then he laughed. LAUGHED! "My GOD! I wonder how he managed it?" he asked himself, grinning down at Damon. "It seems, sweet demon, that the Gryffindors have been kept up most of the night..."

"Most of the night would be no exaggeration," Ron pouted, glaring at the bruises on Draco's throat. "Slimy git."

"Poor pitiful bastard," Draco returned with easy amusement.

"I am not!" Ron growled, even as Harry wrapped a hand around his upper arm, and pulled him backwards.

"Ron, come on..."

"YOU saw," Draco drawled to Blaise as he seated himself, Damon balanced upon his lap and staring up at the head table. "He started it. Bad habit, that, as he can rarely finish it."

"I'm half as confused as they are," Blaise admitted, looking at the baby for a moment, and then following the child's gaze -- right up to Snape, who was talking almost silently with Minerva, who seemed quite displeased.

"How so?" Draco asked, looking at him with honest curiosity even as he began to delve into the bowl of scrambled eggs set out before his plate, serving himself easily even with his arms full.

"Well, the noises from your room last night, Draco," Millicient hedged.

"OH," Draco said, unable to resist a smirk. "THOSE."

"Yes," Pansy agreed. "Those! What was that all about, Draco?"

"What do you think it was all about, Pansy-love?" came the sardonic reply.

"I think you and the Professor were--" Pansy ended up cut off by a cruel nudge in the ribs by Blaise, who went back to stoically eating his bacon.

Unable to help himself, Draco grinned, biting into a crisp piece of bacon while trying not to laugh. "You were saying, before Blaise's elbow seems to have bruised you?" he asked teasingly, shaking his head. "Really, Pansy. Yes. All right?"

"Oh, my," Millicent said, fanning her face. "I told you so."

"That simple?" Pansy asked. "Just... just like that?"

Slim shoulders shrugged the answer as Draco delved into his eggs.

"It's really quite none of our business," Blaise sighed to the two women at the table, not, he realized, that they were likely to pay him any attention.

"Don't spoil things for us," Millicent scowled, firmly kicking him beneath the table. "Or I'll make that bacon of yours into a pig!"

"You should both be nicer to poor Blaise," Draco informed them. "He's really quite right. It's no one's business but mine and the Professor's and perhaps Damon's..."

For a moment, the baby bobbled atop his lap, and then simply went back to peering over at the head table.

"And everyone else who heard you last night," Blaise drawled.

"Well, there's that, too," Draco agreed with a smirk. "I didn't think we were THAT noisy. Damon didn't even roll over 'til six this morning, did you, sweet demon?"

Damon cooed up at his father, little hands waving in the air to grasp a hold of him after a moment.

"Well, the Gryffindors heard you," Millicent murmured, "As did I."

"And I thought that was just an idle threat!" Draco muttered under his breath. "Well, I'm sure it irritated the lot of them. Good for me," he decided with a vicious smirk that he cast in the general direction of the Gryffindor table. It looked as though most of them were about to fall over in their oatmeal!

Funny. After all, he felt refreshed and wonderful, not so groggy as they looked -- and he'd been the one making at least half the noises all night. Then again, that might have had something to do with the potion Severus had retrieved from his room on the way up.

Might have.

It also might have a great deal to do with the fact that he'd gotten what he'd wanted for at least half of his life, now -- namely, one Professor Severus Snape, if not wildly in love with him, then at least in his bed for the time being. The rest could come later, he decided.

"So," Draco began, "what does that fluffy headed Mudblood have on the agenda for today?"

"Probably a nap during lunch," Blaise risked, before he pulled out his copy of the schedule. "A water-balloon fight, this morning, more socializing, a Quidditch game, more socializing, there are rumblings about a swim, and a dance this evening."

Draco made a face. "I suppose, as few of us as there are, they plan to fairly stomp us into the mud at Quidditch... ESPECIALLY with Potter-the-Seeker over there," he drawled. "With just the four of us, they're likely right."

"Are you up to sitting on a broom today?" Blaise drawled at him. "We might be only three, if you're not..."

The two women laughed as color suffused Draco's face despite the smirk. "I assure you," he drawled, "I'm more than up to it." Well, he was sore, and he was fairly certain he might be walking a bit funny after what they'd done this morning, but he could still sit a broom!

If he was careful about it, that is.

"Perhaps we could ask the professor...?" Pansy asked. "Would he even..."

"We could ask," Draco agreed, "though I'm not sure what he would say. And there's always Professor Sinestra, as well..." She had also been a member of House Slytherin, so it would be acceptable. "Pansy, have you ever played?" Millicent had been a beater their last year at Hogwarts and Blaise had been keeper for the last three, but he didn't believe Pansy had ever done anything more than cheer from the sidelines. In point of fact, he wasn't even certain about her flying skills!

"No..." She looked a bit sheepish, "which was why I was wondering if the professor would play -- so it wouldn't just be three."

"That's just what I was afraid of," Draco sighed. "Sweet demon, I'm only sorry you aren't old enough to play as yet..."

His son, who seemed to be a bit fidgety that morning, snugged against his shoulder and chest, burbling softly.

"Well, at least we know that in twelve years or so our house will have one good player," Blaise shrugged. "Your father was good, too, wasn't he...?" But Draco was probably out of practice -- the idea of a Quidditch game was absurd, given that most the people, with the exception of Potter, hadn't played in years.

It must've been his idea, the little show-off.

"Won the cup all seven of his years at Hogwarts," Draco answered dryly, shaking his head. Lucius had rubbed it in, too, and they'd had quite the fight over whether or not he'd get a Firebolt after Potter had gotten his. Draco had gotten one, of course, and after that, the odds had been evened out once again. It wasn't that Draco wasn't every bit as good as Potter -- it was just that the damned Gryffindor seemed to lead a charmed life. It was frustrating, but Slytherin had still won the Cup his last year at Hogwarts, and Lucius had been unbearably proud.

"Well, we should put on a good fight today, just to show them that we still can," Millicent decided.

"I hope we drown Weasel during the water-fight," Blaise nodded sharply.

"Let's make a point of it," Draco agreed. "Him and Potter. Shame he's not as nice as Fred and George..." He'd actually been rather fond of the twins, but they'd been much nicer than Ron had been when they were children. "And I'll ask the Professor about the game later..." He grinned. "He wasn't on the team when he was in school, though."

"We're doomed," Blaise decided, giving up on finishing his breakfast. "He refereed, didn't he...? So he has to be a pretty good flyer..."

"He can stay on a broom, if that's what you're asking, but Father said that he couldn't get the Quaffle..." He paused, snickered at the sudden allusion, shook his head. "Um, get the Quaffle to the goal for trying."

"I'd say he hasn't got any problems getting it there now," Pansy told him dryly. She got another elbow for her trouble, from her husband again, but laughed it off.

"Pansy can't even stay on broom, so it's one or the other..."

Their comments rose up and died just in time for Hermione Potter to approach the table. "Good morning, Blaise, Draco, Pansy, Millicent -- how're you?"

"Just magnificent," Draco assured her with a smug little smile. "And what might we do for you this brilliant Saturday morning, Mrs. Potter?"

"I just wanted to see if you're all enjoying yourselves," she asked quite innocently.

"Indubitably," Millicent drawled, looking at her suspiciously as Draco went back to eating his breakfast. "Getting a few good laughs in while we're at it. I assume Perfect Potter will be playing Seeker later today?"

"Goalkeeper," she smiled. "Just to even things up a bit -- it's not really supposed to be house against house since there aren't enough to do it properly. Will you be playing in the game, Draco? I'm sure someone would watch over your son for you..."

"I have Dobby with me," he said, shifting Damon carefully, the little boy squealing with delight. "I'm sure he'll do quite well for the time we'll be playing. If it isn't house against house, how will it be set up?"

"Mixed houses -- we should probably figure out the exact teams once the post breakfast game is over."

"Water balloons, Gr... Potter?" Draco asked, looking at her with a bit of a sneer. "We aren't children..."

"I think, that deep inside of you, Draco... You still are." And with that, she brought the water balloon she'd had behind her back down upon his head, bursting it in a shower of wet that made Damon squeal.

Unable to help himself, he stared at her, mouth open for a moment before sputtering out, "You.. You... YOU BITCH!"

"Language!" And with that, she was off -- along with the rest of the Gryffindors, who seemed to have been the only people expecting it.

Well, they and Dumbledore, who gave a delighted chuckle, and announced, "You'll find a supply under your table, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, Slytherin! Points will be kept track of!"

"I'm going to get that woman," Draco snarled, standing up and stomping towards the head table. He deposited Damon with Severus without another word, the damp baby chortling with glee, and headed to get as many of the balloons as he could carry -- and with a fair use of his wand, even more.

Severus blinked for a few moments, then withdrew his own wand to dry Damon off, while Albus laughed. At him!

"It's not at all amusing, Albus..." A water-balloon sang past his head, and he barely twisted away. "I saw that, Evans!!"

"Oh, no," Dumbledore disagreed, holding his belly as he laughed again. "I think it very funny indeed!"

The war was on, and while there were more Gryffindors than any of the other houses thanks to the morning's late addition of Lavender and Parvati, it didn't seem to help them very much. A quick request to the Bloody Baron gained Slytherin Peeves, and Draco, it seemed, had decided that magic was best for aerial attacks upon the frizzy head of Hermione, who just kept giggling despite his best efforts.

Water balloon fights were often dirty, underhanded things -- and though there may have only been four of them, the attending Slytherins prided themselves in being very dirty and underhanded when it suited them.

Disguising water balloons as part of a footpath, for example, proved to be Neville's undoing. The useful application of a little needle-sharp magic every time Lavender and Parvati went to pick up a balloon was also an excellent way of staying ahead.

Severus and the other professors, unable to participate, along with Dumbledore, watched from the astronomy tower as most of the fight made its way outside. Damon was burbling, and surveying the other professors calmly, Minerva among them. She didn't make him scream, nor did any of the other women, but he frowned at them a little, and kept hiding his face against Snape's collar.

It was all in all strange for Severus -- it was going to take time to become accustomed.

"Babysitting now, Severus?" Minerva was obviously quite put out that her Gryffindors weren't doing as well as they might have. Potter had taken to flying around to use the same tactics the Slytherins were achieving with Peeves and Draco's magic, but it wasn't doing much good, as Blaise managed to keep most of those balloons from bursting upon them by sending them hurting towards the Hufflepuffs.

Those poor, besotted Hufflepuffs...

"Haven't you ever done it, Minerva?" he asked her blandly. Damon was 'hiding' again, except for one tiny hand that had wrapped itself tightly into his hair.

"Rarely," she drawled even as Trelawney sighed from behind her. Minerva detested Sybill.

"Oh, what a very bleak outcome I see before me!" she declared almost tearfully.

"Yes," Minerva sniped. "You see four Slytherins managing to defeat no less than eight Gryffindors! How they're managing it, I can't tell!"

"Wit," he drawled, looking coldly over to her, eyebrow cocked. It was less threatening with a babe in his arms, though he had no idea that was so. "You should teach your house that. It works wonders in reality."

"Huh," she said, trying not to snicker at him. She failed miserably, unable to help herself. "Oh, dear."

"Precisely." Albus was still chuckling.

"Do tell me what's so entertaining?" he drawled calmly, turning his attention back to the window for a moment to watch Harry fly right into a hovering water balloon.

"The great and cranky Severus Snape holding a baby who happens to adore him," Flitwick giggled. "Oh, look! There goes another one, right in poor Harry's face!"

The potions master snorted, watching Harry's broom plummet for too short a time, before he hauled it back up and zipped off to catch whoever had done it to him.

"Your house is down, Minerva." And his was up, up, up... And Flitwick's comment wasn't going to get a reply.

"Oh, that's not fair! Millicent has stolen half of their remaining balloons!" Minerva cried.

"All's fair in love, war, Quidditch and water balloons," Madame Hooch disagreed wryly as Draco's bloom flew wildly from inside the castle to come into his hand so that he could hurtle up to keep pace with Potter.

"We should be playing Quidditch by house," Minerva muttered under her breath. "It would be just as fair..."

"To your house, perhaps. You've a star seeker, after all," Snape was quick to point out.

"And enough players to make up a team," Sinestra added.

"But Malfoy's here, and he was good competition for Harry before," Flitwick pointed out.

"And Harry is a professional player -- Draco writes potions articles. Let us think for a moment who's more practiced..."

"In other words, Slytherin might be winning the water balloon fight, but they couldn't possibly win at Quidditch," Minerva announced smugly. "Particularly if we did play with our own houses!"

Flitwick simply smiled. His own Ravenclaws weren't doing so badly; they'd actually gotten more hits against the Slytherins than the Gryffindors had, and Padma had just managed to drench young Draco -- again. "Goodness, this is fun!"

"Certainly the best reunion we've had to suffer through in years," Sprout agreed, waving at Damon during the moment where he peeked up from Severus's shoulder. "Severus, are we going to be seeing a great deal of this young child around the school...?"

"I haven't any idea what you're talking about," he denied rather calmly, watching Draco cast a drying spell on himself before returning the favor.

"Oh, no," Minerva said, unable to keep a straight face. "Of course you don't know anything about the racket that kept the vast majority of Gryffindor Tower up all night, much less the noise that woke me just after six this morning. That certainly wasn't you, was it, Severus?"

"That noise?" he asked blandly, looking over his shoulder at her, with a perfectly deadpan expression on his face. "Why, no -- that noise was Mr. Malfoy."

Minerva nearly choked on that.

"Goodness, Severus," Dumbledore said with great amusement, thumping McGonagall on the back. "Do be more careful when you say such things. I do believe Minerva had just been about to swallow."

"Only one balloon left!" Hooch announced excitedly. "Malfoy has got it!"

Severus looked back to the grounds again, to see Draco, on his broom, zipping right over the head of Ron Weasley -- and landing it perfectly atop the red head's skull.

Malfoy had *definitely* got it.

"All wet, Weasel?" he yelled, laughing to himself as he rose up above Ron's shaking fist and growled threats. "My. I do believe we must have won."

"Cheaters!" Ron howled. "You bloody bastard snake-hearted cheaters!!!"

"How you play the game isn't important, Weasel!" Blaise yelled. "It's whether you win or lose!" There were only four Slytherins, it was true, but they were making a hell of a lot of noise -- there was no way they could have lost, and they knew it!

"Merlin, you still all piss the living hell out of me!" he snarled, tapping himself with his wand to dry himself, before he stormed off to find his fellow house members.

"Sore loser, still," Draco remarked, shaking his head as he settled down beside his House members. "Shame, that."

"That was fun," Pansy admitted, leaning into Blaise a little. "ARE we 'scheduled' to do anything else until the game later...?"

"More 'socializing'. I don't know that any of the Gryffindors are up to being social, however," Blaise replied with a visible smirk.

"Not right now, they aren't," Millicent grinned. "We should probably talk to some of the Hufflepuffs about joining for a team."

"Erm..." Considering that Blaise had spent a fair bit of time rerouting Potter's balloons to hit the Hufflepuffs...

"Better to try the Ravenclaws, then," Draco suggested as they headed back into the Great Hall, which was now dry -- magically, he was sure, as Filch would probably have had them all in detention otherwise, despite the fact that they were grown.

The Gryffindors seemed to have retreated completely, which was all right, since they certainly didn't miss them. The teachers filtered in, too, and Severus headed for the Slytherin table with Sinestra beside him. Damon started to wriggle when he saw Draco.

From the head table, Dumbledore cleared his throat and announced, "It seems that the Slytherins are the overall winners for the day!" It brought on a fair amount of cheers from the handful of students who were Slytherin, but very little from anyone else.

"Thank you," Draco told Severus with a brilliant smile as Damon passed from his arms and into those of his father, squealing with delight.

"He was quite good," Severus told him, though it didn't need to be said -- because they both knew that Damon was a good child, calm and happy very often. "It's refreshing to see the spirit of the house carried out properly."

Unable to resist it any longer, Draco leaned up and kissed Snape full on the mouth, lingering a moment over it before the yelps and laughter of his fellow Slytherins (and no few disconcerted gasps and cries from the other Houses) caught his attention again. "Um..."

Severus Snape simply licked his bottom lip, and murmured, "Apparently I taught you wit, but not tact, Draco."

"Oh, well," Professor Sinestra stammered.

"Or you just defy anything I have resembling self-control," Draco said by way of agreement.

"God knows THAT'S true!" Minerva yelled from the head table.

"Tea, Mr. Malfoy, and not a moment sooner," Severus half-way admonished, though he licked his lip again as he turned back towards the head-table, leaving Damon mournfully watching him go.

"Wow," was all Draco had to say for himself, grinning almost besottedly after the man.

"He's got it bad," Millicent sighed.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "He's had it bad for years, just hasn't gotten anywhere with it until now."

"How do you know that?" Pansy asked, once Sinestra decided to trail Snape up to the table.

"We did sleep in the same room for seven years," Blaise drawled, sitting down to breakfast, which had once again actually appeared on the table as none of them had finished before Hermione had decked Draco with that balloon. Obviously he wasn't going to give anything more than that away -- especially not the fact that they'd slept together, even if it had only been once.

"Oh, that must've been interesting," Pansy chuckled, darting a glance over to Draco and Damon. "Are you flinging, or...?"

"No, I'm not slumming," Draco replied, sitting down to his own breakfast -- again. "I'm after a great deal more than that."

"A father for your son?" Millicent suggested, at the very moment that Damon leaned forwards and put a hand down in the scrambled eggs.

"Are you implying," Draco said a little coolly, "that I am not his father, but his mum!?"

"Well, it's clear that you are," Pansy smiled. "After all, you wove him for months and months, didn't you?"

"But it's not the same!" Draco protested, looking just a tad panicky at the thought. "I mean, I didn't... I'm not...!!!"

And worse, Blaise was laughing at him. It didn't get any better when Damon settled back, squishing a fistful of eggs and trying to get Draco's attention.

Pansy was quick to point out, "But, you did, Draco. And look at the darling result."

"Yes, smearing eggs all over," Draco said grumpily, lower lip pouting. "I am your father," he informed Damon solemnly, wiping his hands clean of egg. "You can't eat that, so what do you want with it?"

Clutching fists seemed to say that he wanted to do just what he'd been doing -- making a small mess. Large grey eyes threatened to melt him entirely, before Blaise's voice broke in. "Well, at least you don't baby talk the boy."

"I actually rather think that might be what disturbs him about everyone else," Draco agreed, wiping those little hands clean with care despite the look he was getting. "Professor Snape doesn't, either, and that seems to suit Damon quite well."

"I'd wager you didn't like it, either?" Pansy almost smirked.

"I'd wager Father wouldn't allow anyone to even try it," Draco replied with a laugh. After all, Father had taught him no less than three foreign languages and all of the Hogwarts beginning spells before he was five. It seemed something that his father would do!

"It's quite a chore, though, to raise a child by oneself..." Millicent smirked. "Which might be why..."

"Why...?" Draco prompted.

She flicked eyes up to the head table, from which Snape was half-watching Draco. "Why..."

"Oh, no," he said, eyes gleaming. "That's purely selfish."

The words brought a hoot of laughter from Blaise, and Pansy shook her head at him. "Damon," she addressed the baby, "your father is quite mad. Charming, of course. He's always been charming. But utterly insane."

Damon just wrinkled his tiny nose at her discouragingly.

"I think you're going to break your own heart, Draco Malfoy," Millicent chided. "You've set yourself up to fall."

"We'll see," Draco said firmly, moving to stand up from the table. "And on that note, I suspect Damon will want a morning's nap..." And he might as well have one, too, all things considered. It was much better than 'socializing'. "Quidditch is after lunch, is it not?"

"Don't miss it." Blaise seemed all right with letting him get up, pick Damon up, and leave, while the two girls wanted to talk and talk and talk...

"Wouldn't dream of it," Draco drawled over the voices of Pansy and Millicent. "Five galleons says Potter ends up Seeker after all this afternoon. They'll be itching to beat us, now."

"Sore losers," Blaise agreed, giving a dismissive wave to his fellow Slytherin. "You'll have to be ours. I'll find a couple of Ravenclaws."

"We'll see if I don't fuck it up too badly," Draco agreed, and headed off to lay Damon down for his morning's nap.

"You've got to be seeker, Harry," Ron wheedled, pacing the floor of the commons room. "Have to! We can't let those slimy, cheating Slytherins win!"

"Well, but it's not really fair. Winning's only good if you do it fairly," Harry disagreed, biting his lip.

"They didn't win fairly," Ron muttered.

"Well, nothing was off limits, so they did, Ron," Hermione pointed out a bit quietly. Not that she was happy Draco had drenched her the entire time.

"Still. We'd be much more likely to win if Harry would agree to be Seeker," Ron said again, shaking his head.

"He's right, y'know," Seamus agreed. "We would. We can't just sit back and let them beat us, can we?"

"And they'll win if Harry doesn't play Seeker," Ron said firmly. "Though we might have an advantage over Draco's team..."

"Yeah, we've got more people," Dean snickered. "Saw 'em trying to recruit Ravenclaws. The other houses have all got enough to play for themselves."

"That's kind of sad..." Neville said thoughtfully.

"There are only four of them," Harry agreed after a moment of thought. "And even if they were the best, they'd still be out of practice..."

"Oh, come on, Harry!" Ron pleaded again. "Honestly. We have extras. We can give them Lavender and Parvati or something!" Even Ron had to admit that those two would be about as useful as Pansy, which was to say not at all.

"What, we don't get a say on what team we play for?" Lavender huffed.

"Pansy might as well be an extra," Harry pointed out. "Don't worry -- Ron's just shooting the breeze. He's miffed, for some reason." The reason was, God help most of them, obvious. He'd made a play for Draco and had it rebuffed, and Severus SNAPE had actually managed what he'd tried. It didn't make for a very good day.

"At any rate," Hermione said a bit loudly, "it's better to do it fairly! It is," she insisted, nodding at them all.

"Still doesn't tell me what position I'm playing," Harry groused.

"Well, it's really up to you, isn't it, Harry?" Seamus said with a shrug. "We've got a chance at winning one way, and will definitely win the other. Pound them into the dirt, I say."

"I think I'd rather play keeper," he decided after a moment, "because it's just not fair to anyone that I play seeker."

"Then that means we need a Seeker," Ron announced glumly.

"I'd fall off my broom," Neville denied rather more quickly than was necessary.

"I can't play well at all," Hermione admitted, while the two other girls made agreeing noises. "Seamus...? Dean...?"

"Might as well draw straws amongst the lot of us," Dean said with a shrug. "One's as good as the next, I'm betting."

"Harry, you have to be seeker. Just... just, use a shitty broom!" Ron suggested quickly.

"It just wouldn't be fair," Harry excused with a shrug. "Not to Slytherin or to Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw when we play them, either."

"But, but..." But he'd wanted to see Draco trounced royally, after a hurtful blow to his pride. Snape, of all people! The daft professor probably didn't even know he was being used to rub Ron's face in it, the Weasley was sure. How could anyone want that nasty, greasy bastard, after all? /I mean... IT'S SNAPE!/ he thought to himself, just a little on the wrong side of queasy at the mere notion. What on earth could possess that gorgeous damned Malfoy to offer him great head? There wasn't a single great thing about the potions master, unless one counted the size of his nose, and that wasn't anything to get worked up over... "...fine. Seamus, you should probably fly Seeker."

"All right," Seamus said with a shrug. "That'll make you a beater, then, and I reckon one of the girls or Neville...?"

"Lavender...?" Anyone, ANYONE other than Neville!

"I'll try it," Parvati said with misgivings.

"And that'd leave Neville and Dean for Chasers, then, because none of the other houses will be able to come up with more than six players, I'm sure," Hermione announced smugly. Thank GOD she wasn't going to be on a broom, though she rather thought she'd have a better chance than he would.

"No!" Neville disagreed. "Hermione, I'm MISERABLE on a broom, you know. Better that you do it!"

"He's got a point," Harry murmured to his wife. "You could play a chaser better than Neville -- no offense meant."

"None taken!" Neville hurried to say, relieved that he might not have to play at all.

"But Harry..." Hermione began. "I don't know anything at all about Quidditch, really, I've never played..."

"You've read, and watched enough games," Ron broke in. "And I'm sure Harry's taught you some tricks..." As long as Neville wasn't playing, then the man couldn't endanger them by being up on a broom.

"Oh, well..." She was obviously weakening.

"If I can pretend to be a beater, you're brave enough to pretend at being a Chaser, Hermione," Parvati told her with an unaccustomed frankness.

"And, it's not like the other team has more than one person who isn't pretending," Neville added.

"So we're still ahead, likely," Ron said with a firm nod. "I want to grind them into the dirt!"

"You're vicious today, Ron," Harry murmured, moving towards his friend. "How about -- Ron, how about you and I go for a walk, hmn?"

With a sigh, Ron pushed up from his chair, glancing over at Harry wryly. He was almost certain what Harry was going to say, and after so many years of being friends, he was getting better at just giving in to things. "All right," he agreed, heading for the portrait hole.

Harry was quiet until they were in the empty hallway. "So, why the sudden intense hatred of one Draco Malfoy, Ron?"

Ron sighed, leaning back against the wall and tilting his head to the side. "He still riles me," he admitted. "And it's probably still for the same reason..." Even though he didn't want to admit that, and he grimaced at the thought.

"What reason's that?" Harry probed carefully. He didn't want to set Ron off, but his vindictiveness was fit to rival a Slytherin that day.

"Other than the fact that I humiliated myself coming on to him last night? Though," he sighed, "I can't see how anyone ELSE resisted on the basis of the shirt alone..."

"Well, the idea of having Draco Malfoy's lips wrap around me is... far from appealing," Harry smirked a little. "Maybe you just had the bad luck of crossing whatever signals he was trying to send... ugh, Snape."

Unable to help himself, Ron did laugh, even if he was flushed a little. "Maybe so... But that's what I don't get. I mean... SNAPE??"

"Who knows why? I'd suppose... that they can stand each other when no one else could or would." And Draco's child -- which even he could admit was adorable -- looked to Snape with a gaze that his own children gave him.

Ron groaned. "All right, so I'll quit being such a venomous git about it, I suppose. Must be sounding like one of them if you'd take me aside for it."

"You've been sounding like Malfoy on a bad day, Ron," his best friend pointed out.

"Thanks," the redhead said sarcastically. "I feel better about it now. I still want to kick the lot of them in the ass, though."

"Same reason as two minutes ago, or a new one...?" Harry drawled at him, pausing for the moment to lean against the wall.

"General principle," Ron informed him, blue eyes shining with amusement.

"Of course. It wouldn't be jealousy, or an itch for revenge..." He was already turning back down the hall, to go to the commons room.

His friend just grinned at him, though. "Even if it was... I think it's a little excusable, no?" He laughed. "We'll see if they get anybody else to fill in for them. Hey, wonder if they'll manage to talk the professors onto brooms...??"

"I'd like to see them play each other," Harry grinned back, "though I've got a sneaking suspicion that Madam Hooch would be the only one who can play."

Unable to help himself, Ron snickered. "Can you imagine McGonagall...?"

"Sprout. Imagine Sprout."

And it was on that note that they slipped back into the commons room.

"Please?" It was a word that he hated to use, but he didn't see that he had any choice. "Please? I'll do ANYTHING. Anything!" Draco promised.

"Draco..." Anything, well, he'd already had a few promises for that, in pre daylight hours. Severus twisted his fingers together thoughtfully, looking over at the other Slytherin. "No. Because I haven't played in years."

"You could just sit your broom and occasionally bat at something," Draco wheedled pleadingly. "When I say anything, I mean anything, Professor...." Well. He was a Slytherin, after all...

"You want me to play a beater? I prefer to not have my nose snapped off, Mr. Malfoy." He leaned forwards in his chair, nearer to Draco, and reached a hand out to cup Draco's cheek. "I'd be as dangerous as Mr. Longbottom, I believe."

"Maybe you could try something else?" Draco asked a little hopefully, damned near MELTING. Four o'clock seemed forever away! "We couldn't talk any of the other houses into helping out. They'll stomp us."

"None of them...?" He sounded doubtful, as he leaned in a little more, fingers starting a languid caress. "I find it hard to believe."

"Couldn't... convince them," the blond man breathed, teeth lightly catching his lower lip for a moment. Oh, to be touched that way, by him... "They've all got just enough for House teams."

The hand withdrew a little, to drag sensitive fingerpads along the underside of Draco's chin. "I'll convince Professor Sinestra -- we can play a six-man team, after all."

"I owe you," Draco managed to get out, smiling almost stupidly. He was going to melt, just melt, and that was all there was to it. "Going to collect afterwards?"

"Tea-time," the potions master assured, leaning just a bit more, and halfway getting up, to press a kiss against Draco's mouth. "Exactly four o'clock."

"You know, I..." No. It wasn't time yet, and Damon's gleeful gurgle from where he lay on a pallet on the floor at least caught the words. "Really REALLY hope we at least don't let them thrash us entirely. But even if we do..." He grinned. "That's all right, too. I'll still owe you."

"It's not often that one gets a chance to lose to an international Quidditch star, is it?" Severus asked in amusement, as he got up from his chair. "I have to find my broom, and talk to Sinestra."

"I'll see you after lunch," Draco promised, and picked up Damon and his blanket to head up to the Grand Hall. It was almost time to eat, anyway, and as they'd both had naps and he'd given Damon his bottle, they were at least ready to face the trouncing they were undoubtedly going to get.

Damon was making happy sounds near his ear, as they walked to the Hall, though those noises stopped abruptly when Draco crossed near Ron.

"Have you gotten a full team yet, Malfoy...?"

"I've managed, Weasel," he said breezily, pausing for a moment to sneer. "I do hope it will at least keep Potter's attention for a moment or three before he catches the Snitch."

"He's playing Keeper," Ron told Draco. He eyed Damon, half-wondering how the little brat could take one look at a person and decide whether he liked them or not. Babies just couldn't do that, could they...? "So you've got half a chance."

/Only if Longbottom's playing,/ Draco thought, nodding before heading to the Slytherin table. God knows Severus could fly... Lucius had said as much. On the other hand, he was hopeless for scoring...

"Well?" Blaise asked. "Did you talk him into it?"

"He's going to ask Sinestra, as well," Draco said with a little smile.

"I don't think it was that he *talked* Snape into it," Pansy smirked. "But thank you, Draco -- what'd you have to wager for it...? Your soul?"

"Afternoon tea," Draco informed them all primly.

"I refuse to go back to the dungeon this afternoon," Millicent said, shaking her head.

"At least we aren't Gryffindors," Blaise answered with a grin. "Professor Snape seems to take some delight in whatever he did to make sure they heard everything last night."

"You should ask him what spell it is," Pansy murmured with a quirk of her eyebrows. "Because we've neighbors that deserve a taste of that sort of thing, haven't we, Blaise?"

"Oh, LORD, Pansy!"

"I doubt I'd get an answer," Draco replied, watching the head table. It seemed that Sinestra was going to give in more easily than he had thought, and that made him smile. "Well. That gets us six, then. Pansy, just sit your broom and let Millicent take care of the bludgers, if you can. I hope to Merlin Sinestra will be able to handle the Quaffle."

"Well, we've got two broomsitters, and maybe four who can play... at least we've got a full enough team," Blaise murmured, following Draco's gaze. Sinestra gave a slight nod to them -- she'd given in. "Do you think the Gryffindors did this on purpose, knowing that we'd barely have enough...?"

"More like do you think they wouldn't?" Draco said dryly, raising a single eyebrow. "The Weasel has it in for me for some reason or other. You'd think he'd have outgrown that..."

"Fred and George haven't outgrown their childishness," Millicent pointed out to the table.

"Yes," Pansy agreed, "but Fred and George make money off of theirs."

"And at least they're pleasant about it -- that's ambition, there," Blaise murmured, shaking his head a little. "And you know very well why Weasley has it in for you -- we all saw him trying to pick you up last night."

Helplessly, Draco shrugged, though he seemed sly about it. "It isn't my fault he picked up on the wrong signals, now is it?" he asked, smirking.

"You should've just worn a shirt that read 'Fuck me, Snape'," Millicent smirked, leaning her elbows on the table. "You weren't very subtle."

"Subtlety is overrated," Draco replied. "Occasionally, one needs a bludger bat to get one's point across. Really, I'm not sure how Weasley missed that it wasn't pointed at him," he shrugged.

"Well, he did date Parvati for a long time before she married that Ravenclaw," Pansy noted, nodding towards them. They were talking amicably -- very Gryffindor of them. "Not exactly something that's likely to provide one with the subtleties of attraction and sex, is it? I mean, they *are* Gryffindors. Bravery is all well and good, but it's often equated with stupidity for a reason. Stepping in where angels fear to tread and all that..."

"Because they haven't got the sense to not step in," Blaise agreed. "Subtlety is something that their house just doesn't stress -- it's probably viewed as underhandedness."

"We're going to have to be extra devious to keep them from stomping us flat," Draco sighed. "Professor Snape couldn't score worth a damn thirty years ago. I sincerely doubt it'll be any better now..." /Dearly as I love him,/ he thought wryly as Damon giggled and clutched tightly at his neck.

"I wouldn't expect it of a potions master," Millicent shrugged. She'd already learned well enough to give up on trying to interact with Damon at all, because the baby hated women. "It's not a very physical activity, after all..."

"Neither is writing articles about them," Draco pointed out with a shrug of his own. "We'll just do our best. D'you think if we spike their pumpkin juice, they'll all be drunk enough to fall right off of their brooms?"

"That, Draco Malfoy, is a bloody brilliant idea," Blaise smirked suddenly, darting a glance over to the Gryffindors. "Let's do it."

"They'll suspect me. Pansy-love..." Draco wheedled.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?" Blaise added his own begging to the pile.

"....all right."

There was just the matter of her getting over there. And with something to spike the pumpkin juice with... "If you'll excuse me, I'll go talk to the house-elves. I think..." She looked at Draco, and winked, "I think I've just remembered an allergy that they'd best know about."

"This is going to be awfully amusing," Draco said softly, and Damon squealed with indisputable glee. "I can't wait."

Pansy stalked out of the hall, looking most unsuspicious as she went, and then disappeared to head down into the kitchens.

"Best plan we've ever had," Blaise grinned.

The heavy weight of black eyes lay upon Draco and he turned to smile innocently at Severus, tilting his head to the side. "He's not buying it," he informed Blaise, shrugging. "He knows."

"Think he'll do anything about it?" Millicent asked.

"You never know..."

Black eyes watched all three of them, but mostly Draco -- even if no one else was suspicious, Severus was. Then his eyes looked away, and he murmured something to Sinestra.

"I hope he doesn't."

Still, Draco couldn't help but consider the possible consequences. How could he not? After all, it wasn't as if he could take off points from their house for it, and it wasn't as if it was really all that dangerous -- after all, they let Hagrid fly, and the man was positively soused as often as not.

He stayed seated where he was, though, and didn't say a word to Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall. It seemed, when Pansy came back, waving slight to Damon, at the same time that Lunch appeared on the tables, that they were all right.

"Whew." It was a relieved breath that he let go, grinning wildly at Blaise, who was looking just as pleased across the table.

"Off like a charm," Pansy whispered. "I found a bottle of FireWhiskey and slipped it to the house-elves to take care of. They won't know 'til they're on their brooms."

"Now let's just pray they don't run into any of us," Millicent muttered.

"None of it's in our juice, is it?" Blaise asked, darting a look at his wife. She might very well have fouled it up...

"Do I look completely incompetent to you?" she asked him sharply. "I spoke with Dobby."

"Oh, Lord," Draco muttered. "You don't know how he is about 'Mr. Harry Potter Sir!' then, do you? I'd suggest NOT drinking. Just in case."

"Any way we can tell the Professor? Both of them...?" He glanced up to the head table, where Snape was already taking a sip from his glass. "Because if Dobby's that way, everyone's glass is probably tainted."

"I'd say it's too late," Draco sighed, grimacing slightly. "I'll go ask Dobby about it, instead. Shit..."

"Your son is going to know more curse-words than real words," Millicent pointed out.

"Who cares -- Draco, get moving!" Blaise hissed.

"Actually...." Draco paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Hm. If we let all of them drink it, and then slip something by way of a sobering potion to just the professors before we play...." he suggested slowly.

"... Then no one would be any wiser," Pansy finished softly. "That's even better. So, we'll just have to sit and wait."

"Actually, I have to slip out and do a little work if we're going to be sure that they're sober later," Draco murmured, peeking at Damon. "Shall we have a change, then, sweet demon? That would explain a bit of time away from lunch, don't you think?" His son's little blond head bobbled gleefully, a squeal sounding most approving of that plan. "Devious brat," Draco announced with no small amount of pleasure.

That was just how he wanted his son to turn out, after all, and the babe was clearly well on the way to being just that. Damon settled back down to cooing and gurgling when his father got up from the table -- this time, Snape's eyes were on him the entire walk from table to door.

He was going to be very, very lucky if he didn't get caught, he realized, and he bit his lip as he headed towards the dungeons. What would the professor say? Better yet, what would he do? An assault of nerves was making him queasy, and it was just as well that he'd stopped eating, all things considered. "Well, sweet demon. Either we're impressive or we're in trouble," he murmured, "and I suppose we'll find out very shortly either way!"

The baby in his arms clung a little closer, cooing. It was probably to himself, that babble, but his father could draw solace from it. After all, Severus knew that Draco was a brat -- he wouldn't just... stop, and leave, because of that.

Would he?

/It's a little late to be fretting now, Draconis Lucius Malfoy,/ he thought to himself crankily as he stepped into the potions classroom. What he would need would be in the students' cabinet, he had no doubt. He just wondered how long it would be before Severus caught him at it, as was quite inevitable. "Well, sweet demon. Let's get you changed before we start, shall we?"

Damon cooed again as he was laid down on a worktable, and Draco called a new diaper to his hands, to put on his baby beneath the thin summer-weight 'robe' he wore. It didn't take long, though Draco couldn't imagine the trouble such an act gave muggles!

He was laughing and tickling lightly at Damon's belly when Severus walked in no more than two minutes later. /Caught in the act,/ he thought to himself, though he gave no sign of noticing. "There, there, sweet demon. All clean and powdered and smelling like a Malfoy had ought. Well... perhaps not. But nice, all the same."

"What, exactly, are you up to, Mr. Malfoy?" Severus asked, over the sound of Damon's soft giggles.

"Just at this particular moment or some other particular moment?" Draco asked lightly, glancing back, argent eyes meeting ebony.

"Some particular moment in the future where you were planning on using my potions classroom for something," he replied with heavy suspicion in his voice.

"Well, you see, actually, there's been a little mistake of sorts," Draco professed coolly, heart beating rapidly behind his ribs. "We were going to, er, slip a bit of something into the Gryffindor's juice. Just a little!" he protested, taking a deep breath. "Only Pansy told Dobby to do it and, well, you know how Dobby feels about Mr.-Harry-Potter-Sir, so we thought perhaps Dobby might have doused the whole school instead and I was sort of thinking that perhaps it would be best to make sure that you and Professor Sinestra, at least, were sober by the time we got to the Quidditch match, as I didn't particularly want to get caught by the lot of them..."

Confession, they claimed, was good for the soul; all it seemed to get him was a nasty glare.

"What 'something', exactly, was slipped into the juice?" Severus demanded sharply, arms crossed over his chest as he continued to glare.

"Er... FireWhiskey," Draco admitted sheepishly.

"What strength...?" Severus looked less than amused as he crossed towards a locked cabinet. Draco could hear keys jangle in a pocket of his robes, as he pulled them out. "And spelled over how...?"

"She didn't say. Knowing Pansy, the pre-bottled variety." Draco paused, shaking his head a little. "There wasn't time for anything more. Are you..." Well, it was better to ask, wasn't it? "...terribly angry?"

"Mildly angry." That sounded a bit curt, and Severus started to rifle through neatly labeled bottles in that cabinet. "Is it time delayed, or...?"

"Well, you aren't drunk yet, are you?" Draco asked, one brow rising as he jostled Damon gently into his arms. "Shall I go ask for the phial from Pansy?"

"No. I was just wondering if it was action-activated, but... that's far too complicated for a pre-bottled sort." He pulled forth three phials, and moved to his work-table to pick up a fourth, larger one.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Draco offered, looking at him hopefully. "It likely would have been if she'd given it to anyone but Dobby. There's no guarantee he even put it in anyone's juice..."

"And just as little way to guarantee that he didn't toss it into everyone's -- go get him, Draco, while I mix this." Severus sounded perfectly miffed, as he started to measure out equal amounts of the three potions.

The blond man paused, frowning for a moment as he watched the potions master. "Am I going to be forgiven?" he asked, honestly wondering. "It wasn't meant this way. Honestly."

"I'm aware." He poured a small splash of the first in with the second, swirling them slowly. "However, I do expect a bit more in the way of planning from you..."

"They'd have suspected me. I should've sent Blaise instead of Pansy, I admit..." Draco's voice trailed into silence. Nothing had been said about forgiveness, though, had it? Even though he'd asked. "I'll bring Dobby back," he said quietly, a sudden overwhelmingly guilty sort of sorrow flooding him for a moment. /That's what you get for not thinking./

"Good. I'm going to have to administer this to everyone, if he did in fact put it in all the drinks. I don't want the game to take any longer than 'til tea time." He didn't look up again, as he spoke, just kept to his work of mixing slow parts of the three potions together.

That was sort of forgiveness, wasn't it? And that made it better, definitely, as he hurried along the way to the kitchens with Damon still in his arms. He probably could have just called Dobby to him magically, but...

Well.

It was just better to go and fetch him. If anything could fudge up magic, it was Dobby.

"Master Draco, is you needing food?"

"No," he said with no small amount of irritation -- mostly at himself, he had to admit. "I need to know what you did with what Mrs. Zabini gave you."

"A bottle, Master Draco," the house-elf said easily enough. "Does Damon need a bottle? Dobby has full access to the kitchen..."

"No," Draco said, gently jostling Damon, who was beginning to get a bit upset -- probably because he was. "I need to know what you did after Pansy spoke with you and left you the FireWhiskey, Dobby."

"Dobby threw it out," the house-elf said proudly. "Dobby tossed FireWhiskey into the bin."

"Dobby, you MARVEL!" Draco declared, dropping down and kissing the house elf atop his bald pate. Lucius would have had a fit. "You magnificent house elf, you! For that, I swear, I'll give you a raise! Two galleons and three sickles a month!"

"Ohhh, Dobby is so happy!" The house-elf bounced a little, hands clapping together for a moment. "Thank you, Master Malfoy! Dobby just is trying to keep Master Draco from getting in trouble!"

With a laugh, Draco turned to head back to the dungeons, hurrying along the way. He'd never been so pleased to have not gotten into a mess before, and it felt a bit odd. Perhaps even more than a bit odd, he decided, hurrying into the potions classroom, a little breathless. "Dobby didn't do it!" he cried out, smiling brilliantly at the professor.

"He didn't? Thank Merlin." The man looked cross, still, as he started to re stopper the potions bottles.

"He didn't want to get me in trouble," Draco said, relief still in him. "Does that make you less angry? Perhaps?"

"You've made me waste this bit of potion, but..." He brushed past Draco to get to the locked cabinet, and brushed fingers over Damon's hair. "No harm has been done."

"We could always use it later..." Draco suggested, following him, Damon's chubby hand reaching out and latching onto Severus.

"For what purpose...?" He didn't throw the mixture he'd made out, though -- no, it was put on the bottom most shelf, which Severus had to bend to get to.

Unable to help himself, Draco ran fingers lightly down the man's spine to caress over his bottom, eyes dropping almost closed. "Ohh... I should think we could perhaps try the FireWhiskey ourselves, later..."

"And find ourselves too soused to find where I put the antidote?" Severus closed the doors, and re-locked it. Keys were something he seldom used, preferring magic, but most of his students had a poor grasp of how to pick locks, he knew, while more of them knew how to break spells. The daring hand on his back... well, Draco had every right to, even in light of his behavior.

"Mmm, maybe if we set it out beforehand," Draco suggested, withdrawing his hand as Severus stood. "Am I forgiven?" he asked again, and it was obvious that it was worrying at him, at least a little. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared, but it wasn't. "I only wanted to win. Maybe a little too much," he admitted, "but I didn't think it would hurt any of them..."

"I can think of two Gryffindors that are allergic to FireWhiskey, Draco." Severus turned a little. "So, you just didn't think. But no harm was done, which makes you a very lucky man."

All right, still not forgiven, then. "Can I make up for it?" He was getting desperate.

"Play a game where you don't kill any of the Gryffindors...?" he suggested, moving his magically cleaned fingers to stroke Damon's cheek. He was obviously as fond of Draco's son as he was of Draco.

"I think I can manage that," the elder Malfoy told him with no small amount of relief. "Unless the Weasel deliberately kills himself just to spite me."

"The only possible way to do that, and have it be your fault, would be to stick himself on your broom. And I very much doubt that you'd let him impale himself on your broom." Severus's fingers drifted a little, from atop Damon's head, to Draco's cheek. "We've probably missed most of lunch, you know."

"We could stay a little while longer..." Draco suggested, tongue darting out to touch lower lip just as echoes invaded the hallways.

"Well, he should have been back by now..."

"I know, but the professor went after him..."

"Well, I don't hear any moaning, do you?"

"There's a side door we can use, or we can stay," Severus whispered, leaning nearer. That dart of pink tongue just drew him closer to the younger wizard.

As if there was any sort of question! It was rather unfortunately too late, for the classroom door was already opening. "Oh, there you are!"

"Where else would we be?" the professor drawled. He didn't flinch or twitch at all at the sound of intruding voices, simply stayed near to Draco, still mostly tempted by that mouth. And Damon was making noises again, a little hand darting out to cling onto his robes.

"Well," Blaise drawled, "I'll bet I can think of half a dozen places, most of which have either locks on the door or convenient flat surfaces, sir..."

"Why ever would we need a lock, or a flat surface?" He leaned in, and did catch Draco's mouth in a brief, soft kiss. "Get out, go back to lunch."

"See you in an hour?" Draco asked, wanting to kiss him again, Damon squealing with glee to be between them.

"On the field." The next kiss was for Damon, right atop his forehead. "Go, or else you'll never get to the field."

"Going." Even though he didn't want to, but Millicent had one arm and Blaise had the other, and Pansy was shaking her head from the doorway.

"Well," she said as they headed down the hallway, "what did he say?"

"Not much," Draco denied. "Dobby didn't do it -- he was worried I'd get into some sort of trouble for it."

"Well, the plan may have failed, but no one's any wiser to it," Blaise sighed. "Damn house-elves."

Draco simply shrugged. He was actually okay with the fact that Dobby hadn't done it -- mostly because it meant that Severus wasn't really pissed off with him. "Turns out two of the Gryffindors are allergic to FireWhiskey, so it's just as well."

"I'd bet money one of them's Potter," Pansy sighed. "Well, at least we didn't kill one of them. Wouldn't THAT have been ironic? Downed not by the You-Know-Who, but by pumpkin juice?"

The lot of them fairly giggled at the thought, and it was at that point they ran across a fair lot of Gryffindors heading out into the foyer to make their way to the Quidditch pitch.

"That," Seamus noted, "is the sound of a Slytherin PLOTTING something."

"Without a doubt. They all went streaming out after Draco left, didn't they?" Ron snorted. "I wouldn't put sabotaging the balls past any of them!"

"Oh, no," Millicent said almost innocently. "I really don't think Draco would do anything to sabotage the balls at all."

Dean gave her a glare, and then shared it with Draco, and Damon. "But you were plotting something!"

Perhaps, Blaise noticed, they could play off of a bit of paranoia. "Of course we were..."

"But I don't think we're really very likely to tell you," Draco answered with a smirk, one that was echoed on the baby's face. "Are we, sweet demon? We'll just let the nasty Gryffindors find out all on their own, won't we?" And Damon gurgled in agreement.

"That's just disturbing," Neville muttered under his breath.

"That kid's going to grow up to be the next You-Know-Who," Ron muttered darkly.

"Looks like you're raising the quintessential Slytherin," Harry observed.

"Would I raise anything else?" Draco asked. "I'm sure your ankle-biters are all as Gryffindor as they come."

"But why train a child to be evil?" Hermione pressed, frowning at both Draco and Damon.

That brought all four Slytherins to the defensive, on the angry end at that. "Slytherin does not necessarily equate with evil, you silly wench," Draco snapped out, shifting Damon so that his baby didn't have to look at the lot of them.

"Although it does usually mean one hell of a lot smarter than you lot," Millicent agreed coldly. "After all, your sort of bravery usually ends up in death!"

"Yeah, well, your sort of evil sneakiness usually ends up in Azkaban with the rest of the Malfoys," Ron sneered.

Damon, without any warning, cooed loudly, and started to try to squirm off of his father's shoulder. Turning around the corner was Severus Snape, in Slytherin quidditch robes, and a broom in hand.

"And your sort of lackluster, close-minded attitude to life in general ends up in a dead-end job with the Ministry. At least Lucius Malfoy enjoyed what he did with his life, misguided as it may have been."

The look on Draco's face was worth those words -- almost worshipful as he half-turned, ignoring the Gryffindors who were now quite off-center as a result of Snape joining the fray. "Let's go," Draco said to the others, and promptly made his way around the lot of them to head back into the Great Hall, where they'd been heading to start.

It was nice to see the Gryffindors, with their noble mouths hanging open, just a little, as they were left in the Slytherin's dust. No more than two minutes later did Professor Sinestra pass them, in Quidditch robes, a broom in hand.

Apparently, the Slytherins had simply been gathering a team. Maybe.

"Umm..." Neville said softly. "I think we might be in real trouble...."

"Are you sure you won't play Seeker, Harry?" Seamus asked.

"Why do you say that?" Ron asked, frowning at Neville.

"Well," Neville said, "I mean, they looked really serious! And I've heard Professor Sinestra was one of the best Chasers in her year. My grandmother said so," he nodded.

"Well, Sirius told me that Snape's a rotten player, so don't be too worried," Harry murmured.

The others all seemed a little worried, still, though. "Whatever they've been up to can't be good," Ron said darkly.

"They're Slytherins," Dean agreed.

"Slimy bastards," Seamus added for good measure.

"They were probably just up to putting together a team," Harry sighed. "Come on, let's get out to the pitch."

"Anyone who didn't see that coming, raise their hands," Blaise sneered as the Slytherins slumped off of the field's greens.

"We put up a good fight. It's not like they completely trounced us..." Pansy said weakly.

"Mrs. Zabini, the score was one hundred and ninety to ten," Professor Sinestra announced with dry inflection.

Draco sighed. "It's my fault. I should have caught the bloody snitch. At least then we'd have had something to rub in their faces."

"It's not your fault that Potter's got the 'magic touch'. I don't think I've ever flown upside down before," Severus added sourly. He'd twisted to avoid a bludger, and then the next thing he knew, everything was upside down. "At least you scored, Sinestra."

"I can't believe he managed to keep all of the others from going in," she groaned as they settled into the stands. "So not only is he an excellent Seeker, he's a Keeper, too. Is there anything that bloody Potter can't do??"

"Win water balloon fights?" Millicent suggested.

"Potions work?" Draco noted with a sneaky little grin trying to creep across his face.

"Snog Draco?" Pansy said, and then snickered as the lot of them looked her way, Blaise's elbow reacquainting itself with her ribs. "Ouch!"

"Would you like me to do that the next time she says such a thing, Mr. Zabani?" Snape offered, sitting down beside Draco on the stands. He really didn't feel like watching any other teams get pummeled -- because, of course, Potter's team would win.

Fate hated them that way.

"I could elbow her," Millicent offered, stilling a little as she caught sight of an ugly little house-elf crossing the edge of the field with a bundle of Damon in his arms.

"Dobby watched game! Dobby sorry Master Draco lost game..."

"Master Draco is very sorry he lost the game, too," Draco admitted, taking Damon easily as Dobby handed the child to him. The little boy was quite well-entertained, a variety of brightly-colored toys floating within reach of his hands should he want them. "Master Draco, in fact, hates to think that we'll all have to sit here and watch Mr. Potter win."

"Oh, but Dobby likes Mr. Harry Potter sir!"

"We know." Snape's muttered sneer seemed quite in character, which was soothing to the other students after seeing him act rather unexpectedly around Draco in particular.

"Mr. Harry Potter sir is good player, yes? Master Draco should practice more?"

Malfoy groaned. "Dobby. Do me a favor. Go play in the kitchens."

"Yes, Master Draco sir!" Dobby said, and with that, disappeared.

"Master Draco should practice more..." Draco muttered, eyes narrowing as he watched the Quidditch game now going on before them. "Ha."

"We were set up to lose," Sinestra complained.

"Don't whine," Severus chided. He decided to not watch the game, and instead had snatched a green stuffed dragon out of the air beside Damon's head, and was enticing the baby to chew on its wings. The child seemed quite delighted to do so, and squealed every time he managed to clutch Severus's fingers.

"Well," Draco said, "it could have been much worse. At least we beat Potter seventh year, right?"

"Right," Blaise agreed with a smile despite himself. "And considering the rest of us haven't played in almost ten years -- the professors aside, of course, as it's been even longer for them -- well. It could've been worse. Right."

"No one died, at least," Pansy agreed, eyeing Severus, who'd spent most of the game dangerously close to falling off his broom whenever he did try to catch the quaffle.

Thanks, Draco thought, to Dobby's choice of disobeying about the FireWhiskey, and thanks to Sinestra shoving Severus back upright upon his broom. "What time is it?" he asked abruptly.

"Three thirty," Millicent informed him. "Why?"

"Oh... it's almost time for Damon's nap. He'll be getting a bit cranky shortly. I think I'll skip out on seeing the rest of this," he said casually.

"I'll join you," Severus said, equally casual. "We were going to have tea, weren't we?"

"Tea," Pansy snickered. "Right."

"We were," Draco agreed, closing his eyes and shaking his head, unable to keep from smiling.

"Well, enjoy your... 'tea', Draco," Blaise drawled, watching Severus set the now slightly wet stuffed Dragon back into the air above Damon's head

"Thank you, Blaise," he said dryly as they headed down from the stands, the toys floating along in a little procession behind them. "I have no doubt that we will."

Severus rose smoothly, fell easily into pace with him. He heard Professor Sinestra mutter, "They should just be honest and say they're going to go fuck..."

"We're going to go fuck," Draco called back over his shoulder, and promptly stuck out his tongue at the lot of them before disappearing around the edge of the stands. "Sorry. I couldn't resist. I'm very glad we aren't Gryffindors..."

"I'm very glad that you're legal," Severus murmured, eyes a little wide. "Discreet you are not."

"This from the man who made sure all of Gryffindor Tower would be kept awake by us last night?" Draco drawled, amused.

"I had no idea they'd figure out it was us," Severus sneered in a very false voice of innocence.

"Of course you didn't," Draco agreed as they headed back to the castle, leaving behind the sounds of the shouting reunion members.

"No more than you knew that your shirt was advertising what we were going to do last night," Severus drawled, lifting one lean hand to rest against the small of Draco's back.

It sent a shiver down the other man's frame, grey eyes darting to the side, sly smile coming into existence. "Well, to everyone but Weasel. I suppose."

"Interesting, how someone who outwardly hated you for the entirety of school could be offended that you don't want to have sex with him." That hand pressed a little, lean fingers moving in a clear gesture of possession.

Malfoy was absolutely melting, and his son reacted by cooing with delight at the man responsible for it. "Well. He's an odd one, isn't he? Not at all like his brothers. Much more fiery. Not my type."

"And your 'type' would happen to be...?" the man beside him baited, lips curling slyly.

"Cool, calm under pressure. Sarky black-haired gits are my favorites," Draco answered with a smirk.

"Bratty, pale beauties with brilliant minds are mine. What luck we seem to have." He leaned near to press a kiss behind Draco's ear, and murmured, "We both need showers."

He couldn't help the shiver that rocked down his spine with those words, or the pictures it conjured up in his mind. "That sounds just perfect," he agreed, keeping a tight rein on himself. It was hard not to just jump the man right at the moment! Though, the baby cooing in his ear smothered down the urge a little. After all, he and Severus couldn't very well hop into the shower and have sex with Damon there. It just wouldn't work that way. "Yes, sweet demon, I know. You and I will just have to figure something out until you go to sleep, won't we?" It was only another half hour...

"You usually feed him, don't you...?" Severus half-reminded. While he fed Damon, they could talk... perhaps make sense of what they were doing.

"Right about now," Draco agreed. "He usually falls asleep with the bottle in his mouth. He's a very good boy, aren't you, sweet demon?" he asked, and kissed the top of that cottony head with a little laugh.

Damon tried to tilt his slightly bobbling head up into that kiss, as if to see what it was that Draco had done atop his head. Severus watched with a smile, as they turned down the stairs of the dungeons. "He is certainly a sweet boy."

"He's a perfect boy," Draco agreed. "And he'll be a perfectly spoiled little brat by the time he's old enough to go to school. I hope Potter's children all find him annoyingly and magnificently smug."

"Imagine the horror for Potter's children if I'm still teaching here when they come through," the potions master drawled in amusement.

"Pain," Draco agreed. "Suffering. Agony. I delight in that thought." Silvery eyes snuck to the side, gleaming at him. "I'd rather think that by then you might have moved on to something more like research...?"

"I never can be entirely sure," Severus shrugged. "Private research is rewarding, but harder to have your accomplishments recognized, without clear backing."

"Hmmm." No, now wasn't the time to offer. The time to offer was later, after other things had been worked out, Draco decided. "That's very true, but with your recent accomplishments, I don't think that would be so very hard to find."

"How many ministry employees end up anywhere other than pigeonholed?" he asked, pausing in front of his office door, and taking a moment to unlock it.

"Well, think about it, at any rate," Draco suggested as they walked inside the room. "At least.."

"Working at Hogwarts does, of course, limit my social life," the professor murmured as he closed the door behind them.

"And the noise you can make in the middle of the night?" came the teasing reply.

"During the school year? Merlin, yes." Snape moved to a tea-set in the corner, heating the pot. "You, of course, would probably have no interest at all in lingering around the school while I teach."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Draco answered almost casually. "I mean, there are benefits, aren't there? Not only being close to you," and the mere suggestion of his lingering made his heart beat faster, after all, "but also being able to encourage young Slytherins and aggravate equally young Gryffindors. It wouldn't hurt to show Damon the proper way of being Slytherin, either..."

"In another year or so, I'll be able to leave the school safely, and with enough wealth to be able to work on my research without worry." He knew why he was telling Draco that, almost warning him, as he poured hot water into two cups, and added leaves to let steep.

"Ahhh. So you wouldn't be interested, beyond that...?" In him. In anything.

Ouch.

"I'm afraid that didn't make any sense at all, Draco, though if you're trying to take my words the wrong way, you're really wasting your time." Severus was infinitely calm as he turned back to Draco, setting a cup of tea down in front of him. "I can't leave immediately. Albus would need time to find another Potions master who would have the strength of personality to serve as Head of House." Because Sinestra simply didn't. "I hope you could stand a year or perhaps more at this school, with me, before I could leave... that is, if you'd be willing."

"So it's by way of an offer, then," Draco said, lips curling upward in a genuine smile, the sudden weight that had descended upon him flying away just as easily. "Yes. I could stand ten years or twenty or seventy if I had to. I waited fourteen to get this close, Severus Snape. Don't think I'll be likely to give up easily."

"I was hoping you wouldn't," was the softly granted confidence. "Do you need to fetch a bottle for Damon, or would a conjured one do?" Because the baby was squirming, and looked hungry.

"Conjured will be fine," Draco replied, and simply smiled at him and waited.

It took a few moments, and he even pressed a warming spell over it before he handed the tidy-looking bottle over to Draco. "There."

"There, sweet demon," Draco agreed, and Damon clamped onto the bottle with all the starving manner of a man who hadn't been fed in a month. "So...." He looked across the way. "You..." He paused, bit his lip, smiled. "You're interested in this being long term, then. Instead of just a weekend. I admit, I was rather thinking the next hundred and fifty years or so, myself..."

"The next hundred and fifty years sounds... quite pleasurable to me," Severus decided, watching Draco bite his lip. The younger Wizard had no idea, surely, how coy and tempting he looked when he did that. "I'd like to see Damon here grow up to piss off little Gryffindors."

"And maybe match him?" came the tentative offer. "As I said. It would be a shame to let the lot of them off from another Snape to aggravate them..."

"That... I'm as yet unsure of," the older wizard admitted after a moment of quiet, though he leaned nearer to Draco. "It would be a shame, yet..."

"We can think about that later," Draco offered a little hurriedly. Just because he loved having Damon and just because Damon loved Snape was no reason to think that Severus was particularly fond of children. "Do you... I mean, well, you don't object to Damon?" That would be so incredibly awful that he wasn't even certain there were words for it. It wasn't as though he could give the child back, and not as though he would even if he could.

Black on black eyes softened slightly, as if that would reassure Draco. "Whatever would give you the idea that I don't like Damon?"

"Oh, nothing," Draco assured. "He adores you, and you seem to adore him in return. The idea of others seems to bother you, though, so I thought it pertinent to ask."

"I'm wary of passing on my genetics to anything," Severus said rather simply, reaching forwards to languid fingers to stroke Damon's soft hair as he drank. "And it's something I haven't ever given much decision to, before now."

Deep grey eyes peered at him, closing only slowly, sleepily, and Draco smiled. On the whole, he was rather fond of the genetics that made up Severus Snape, but so long as that was the issue, there was time to convince him otherwise. "That's all right, then," he said, looking at Severus quietly. "He's almost asleep."

"Sweet boy," Severus murmured, still stroking fingers lightly over his scalp, even as he leaned completely out of his chair to kiss Draco just as light as the touch of his fingers. "You, too."

"I've never been called sweet before," Draco whispered, eyes darkening slightly.

"Shall I call you it again...?" He leaned in to kiss him again, lightly as the time before it. "Sweet brat might be more appropriate, since you're very much not a boy."

"Maybe I can show you that again in a bit?" he whispered, closing his eyes and brushing his lips so carefully against Severus's. So tender... "Damon is almost asleep."

"And when he's asleep, perhaps we can lay him down, and spend an hour doing whatever we can -- slowly, this time." The play of lips against lips was an enjoyable one that Severus hadn't indulged himself so thoroughly in for years.

"That would be wonderful..." He had originally thought that the afternoon might be spent in the potions classroom, likely bent over the worktable he'd sat at for seven years, but right at the moment... right at the moment, slow was better, he thought. There would be time for the other later.

Plenty of time. An entire summer, in the very least. "To clarify, my offer has received a 'yes'?"

"A resounding yes. A yes meant to last, oh, I'd say, until the day I die," Draco agreed, Damon growing heavy in his arms as he nodded off, bottle nearly finished. "An utterly positively completely heartfelt YES!"

"Ten years ago, you would have had to put that down to boyish fancy," Severus confided in a low, smooth drawl. "Now, however, I can accept it gratefully."

"Thank you," Draco told him primly. "I'd have meant it fourteen ago."

"I'm aware." The kiss deepened, and one-handed, Severus took the bottle from Damon's slack lips, and set it aside. "But now we can act on it."

"Let me lay him down..." Draco said, shifting to stand and smiling, glancing at a door nearby. "Your bedroom?"

"Most conveniently placed," the potions master agreed, moving back a step, and cleaning up remnants of a mostly ignored tea with his wand. Usually his bedroom door couldn't even be seen, but he'd removed that seal, too, when he'd unlocked the first door. "We can lay him down in there..."

Quietly, Draco moved in that direction, pushing open the door and peeking inside. The room seemed surprisingly comfortable -- half of Hogwarts swore the man was an ascetic. From the size of that bed, Draco thought with a grin, he was anything but. "Have you a drawer I can transfigure?"

"An empty one, yes." He moved to a large, formidable dresser, and pulled out the smallest bottom-most drawer. "This will do?"

"Yes, thank you," Draco replied most politely, tugging his wand from a pocket. With a wave, it became a cradle, instead, and he laid Damon down in it, casting a silencing spell tenderly around him. "There."

"He's a good child." Down for at least an hour of napping, something that was very good. Severus slipped behind Draco, hands on his shoulders. "Bed...?"

"Yes," Draco agreed, turning and lifting his face the scant inches between them, lashes dropping to his cheeks as he pressed his mouth to Severus's.

One hand lifted to clutch at his chin, steering the kiss as Severus parted Draco's lips with a seeking tongue. Half of the fun was to see if they'd get to the bed at all -- and the other half was to see where they would end up if they didn't.

The mouth beneath his own parted willingly, giving him access to tongue and teeth and the moist inner recesses that seemed to sing with want of him on return of that kiss. Fingers were working at his Quidditch robes already, lightly fumbling down the front, releasing hook-and-eye latches to get at what was underneath, simple pull over shirt and pants. Draco's hands were greedy, seeking flesh almost desperately, and when they found it, he sighed, a wonderful feeling against Severus's lips.

"I think... that you and I are still in need of a shower, actually," Severus corrected, only when he broke the kiss. Draco's own robes were a lost cause, as nimble fingers plucked at the catches while Severus walked backwards towards another closed door.

"Yes," Draco agreed between kisses, following him obediently. The notion, naked wet skin pressed together, was brilliant. Actually, right at the moment, anything that amounted in the two of them being naked would probably seem so to him.

Draco was soon as much shed of his robes as Severus was, and he walked backwards for another few steps. Severus pressed the bathroom door open with his back, twisting a little to light the candles. "One hour, no more..."

"Yes..." Damon would wake up laughing, Draco knew, and that was as good as any alarm might be. They were naked, together, and that was really all he needed at the moment. "Yes..."

Snape didn't light the torches, preferring the candle's warmer-seeming light as he coaxed Draco backwards into the shower's stall. "Yes...?"

"Yes," Draco whispered, fingers fumbling momentarily behind Severus to turn on the water. "Yes, I'm naked with you. Yes, I want you. Yes, I'll do anything you want. Yes."

"And if what I want is something simple...?" He pulled a chain, starting a spray of magically heated water.

"Then yes. That, too," was the response.

"I want you with me, until I'm so old that I can't lift a wand by myself. And past it." He left his hands creep over Draco's body, one shifting to grab a bar of soap. "Though I imagine I'd like my own wand to still lift a little, and yours..."

"Yes." It was a promise, it was romance, it was everything he'd ever wanted and then some. He'd thought that perhaps they'd start with sex and, given enough time, he'd be able to convince the black-haired man that what Draco wanted was what he wanted, too, but this... "Yes, yes, yes."

"Now, stop 'yes'-ing, and wash," Severus instructed, smiled against his lips as they kissed again. the hot spray of the shower fell a bit harder, but not uncomfortable.

For a few moments, all remained quiet, the two of them washing. The soap smelled like Severus, citrus and clove, and that alone was quite enough to make Draco hard even if he hadn't been already. /God.../ Was it really so possible to be as happy as he was?

He was kissed again when Severus deemed the both of them clean enough, and somewhere, Draco dropped the soap. It didn't matter, because he was very shortly being pressed against the wall, hands touching slick stone as he moaned and arched, pressing the entirety of himself against Severus.

"Please...." he whispered. "Oh, please..."

"You want me to fuck you in the shower, Mr. Malfoy...?" Severus whispered in his ear, a bit louder than he would've liked to, but the spray's burble was unforgiving.

"I want to feel you so deep in me I can taste you in my throat," Draco managed to answer, tongue darting out to moisten his lower lip as he looked over his shoulder at Severus with a desperate want gleaming in his eyes.

And then he couldn't clearly see Severus's face anymore, because the man had bent his head, to bite at the side of Draco's neck. Hot, firm body pressed against his backside, a prominent erection jutting against him. "As you wish..."

He bit down on the inside of his mouth, a flood of heat washing through him as he moaned and pushed back, wanting, wanting so desperately for Severus to push into him. He got it, that cock covered in slippery cool something, soap maybe, to make it easy. It stung, the whole of him still a little sore from the night before and the early morning, but he couldn't help giving a frantic sound of pure need when the man did it, demanding more as his hands curled into fists pressed to the wall. "Fuck... YES..."

Skillful fingers crept around him when Severus rocked back slowly, both hands clasping around Draco's cock as Severus pressed back into that half-slicked clench. It was perfect, every time, and Draco's cries and moans, squirming arches, made his wood-hard cock turn steely. He could do that, every day, for the rest of his life, and never, never get tired of that voice crying out because of him.

"Please... Please..." He wasn't sure what he was begging for, exactly. The only thing Draco was certain of was that he'd never felt anything like this, nothing like this moment, and he shook, pushing back to meet every thrust of Severus's hips. He gave little sounds of pleasure, barely heard over the sound of the water, and finally pressed his face to the wall, little pants puffing from his lips to the stone and back again, reflected.

"Beautiful, Draco... just..." Severus didn't even bother with full sentences, as he kissed against the back of his lover's neck, his shoulder-blades, and shoulders themselves for a moment, before he pressed his face into wet silken hair, and started his hips into a fierce pummeling, hands matched in motion.

The sounds that gained him increased sharply, Draco shoving back to meet him with every push, and after only a handful of seconds, it seemed, he cried out. Semen spattered out against the wall and he shuddered, tightening inexorably around the cock still pushing into him, forehead pressed to the wall. He whimpered quietly, pleasure making his knees so weak that it was a miracle he could remain standing, just as it was a miracle that Severus's cock hadn't been peeled off by that clutch. A few hard thrusts after that whimper in Draco's voice, and a heat spilled into him, searing the weak-kneed sensation that was already in him. "Draco..."

"Yes," he managed to whisper tiredly some few seconds later. "Yes..." It was the only thing that he could think to say. Yes.

One hand slipped to turn the heated water up a bit harder, to wash away what they'd just done. Languidly, Severus eased himself out of Draco, letting his arms wrap around the younger Wizard. It had to be, at long last, some sort of retribution/reward for all the good he'd tried to do in his life.

"I think..." Draco murmured sleepily. "I think we ought to have a nap, too. For at least a little while. We could sleep through the next bout of 'socializing'...." Damon wouldn't mind, so long as the little colored magical mobile played above his bed.

"Fine by me." He didn't have to be there, and Dumbledore wouldn't see a need to drag him out of the dungeons, because with Draco there, he certainly wasn't working. A flick of motion, and the shower turned off, and then Draco was being dragged out to stand on a warm rug while Severus pulled out towels.

"I love you awfully." It was a strange, very un-Slytherin sort of thing to say, but it was true, and he shrugged helplessly as he looked at the dark-haired man, shaking his own head.

Pale skin soon found itself enfolded in a large dark-green towel. "You sound as if that should disappoint me -- it doesn't."

"It's not very Slytherin of me to say it, though, is it? Or very Malfoy," Draco said with a helpless little shrug, hands reaching to grasp the edges of the material. "Father would be yelling down the castle over our heads." He paused, shook his head. "I'm not going to do that to Damon. Even if it means not raising him to be a proper Malfoy."

Severus started to towel himself off, too, contemplative for a moment. "Being Slytherin, Draco, does not mean one has to be a heartless, cold bastard. I've seen perfectly affectionate Slytherins."

"Yes, and most of them suffer for seven years, too," Draco informed him with a nod, "as I'm sure you know. They cannot refrain from being publicly affectionate, and that, I suppose, is their downfall. Hm. I don't know."

"You managed," Severus pointed out, toweling his hair off, "somehow without being publicly affectionate -- yet you're very much so now."

"That's different, though, isn't it?" Draco pointed out, finished drying and discarding the towel, now. "It doesn't make me vulnerable now." To humiliation, to possible rejection, to half a dozen things.

Severus grasped Draco's wrist, and pulled open the bathroom door to enter the bedroom once more. "Not in any manner that I'd consider bad."

"I don't think I'd have ever minded being vulnerable to you," Draco agreed, chuckling as they neared the bed. Somehow, napping didn't seem at all like what he wanted just at the moment. He'd much rather wrap himself up tightly in Severus and just stay that way.

Severus paused long enough to set Damon's mobile above the bed, sending it into motion with a flick of his wand. It would stay silent at least until the boy woke up. "Then don't feel a need to start now."

"I don't think I will," Draco agreed quietly, and kissed him, tender motion of tongue and lips that teased lightly instead of demanding.

He gained himself a wordless murmur, and Severus pushed Draco down onto the bed to blanket him shortly. "I believe that you'll need some sort of healing spell, or simple respite, before we do that again, Draco." At least, with him on top.

"Just keep kissing me," he whispered, fingers moving up to tangle in damp locks. "Please."

"Entirely my pleasure," Severus whispered. Hands on Draco's back tugged him closer, until they were in a comfortable tangle atop the bedding.

It was a wonderful way to pass time, really; pressed together, a knot of limbs, lips brushing tenderly across mouth, jaw, nose, cheek. Draco was almost drowsy, and his mouth was chapping, and he didn't care, really, so long as they didn't have to move. So long as it went on forever.

Finally, fingers lifted to brush his lips, over damp skin. "I've a potion that will fix this." Then a kiss to the edge of that reddened mouth, laid there with Severus's own pressure-colored lips.

"I'd rather let them all see," Draco whispered. "I want to flaunt you. I want them to know I got the best one. I want to absolutely preen over it." He laughed quietly, rubbing the bridge of his nose against Severus's jawline. "I'm smug about it."

"And not -- even slightly -- affectionate?" he was teased, as Severus rapped lean fingers against the line of Draco's spine, tickling over the slight ridges.

"My affection goes without saying," Draco whispered back, chuckling and squirming just a bit. That touch made his skin shiver, and he enjoyed it greatly.

"Smug I believe I can readily accept," Severus purred, head lolling back for a moment, as a glimpse of motion caught his eyes. Damon's feet kicking in the air at the mobile, little hands reaching. "Merlin, I feel disgustingly pleased with myself."

"Good," Draco laughed, nipping sharply just under his jaw. "I shouldn't be the only one feeling horribly smarmy about everything."

"I rather think this has got Potter et al sick to their upright and do-good little stomachs," the older wizard drawled, tilting his head a little to let Draco do that nip again.

"Even better," Draco whispered, laughing softly as he did it once more before rolling loose and picking up Damon, bringing him back to the bed and crawling into it. The baby slid easily between them, gleeful to be there, fist waving faintly at Severus. "Damon seems to do the same, actually. Hello, little demon. Awake again, I see, and very happy. Would you like to meet your new daddy? Yes? You're very fond of him already. I think we shall keep him for a very long time."

"Kept, hmnn? Well, one can keep a Snape, but you cannot have a kept Snape unless they wish to be that way." Severus resettled, one hand on Draco's side, the other lightly touching Damon's back. It was a warm feeling, to be laying there with his new lover, and the babe. "I wish to be, of course."

"Wonderful," Draco almost purred, leaning forward and kissing him to Damon's great enjoyment, squeals of pure happiness spilling from the little boy. "My kept Snape. How magnificent that sounds. Malfoy the Magnificent and his Snape. Hm."

"You brattish git."

"We probably won't see Malfoy for the rest of the reunion," Harry murmured to Ron, "Because he's quite obviously off fucking Snape still. Don't know why it bothers you, Ron... you should be in a great mood, considering we won the game!"

"I don't take well to making a total prat of myself," Ron sighed, giving Harry a half-hearted smile. "Plus, I wasn't really expecting to find Malfoy hot. Not only is he male, he's, well, he's Malfoy!"

Harry just shrugged, tilting his head a little as he straightened his tie, then straightened Ron's. "Well, since Hermione has her brilliant idea of partner switching during the dance a few times, maybe you'll at least be able to dance with him..."

At that, Ron laughed. "At least we don't have to wear dress robes," he said, good-naturedly shaking his head. "Who knows? Maybe I can talk to Seamus and find out about this thing. Maybe it runs in the family? Now that I think about it," Ron murmured thoughtfully, "Uncle Randy and cousin Roger never got married, either..."

"You never..." Harry looked at him, a bit questioningly. "Well, I mean, you never thought of it before now? Not even when we were students...?"

"Once or twice," Ron admitted, "but I thought it was just a teenage boy thing. Didn't you?"

"I thought you were going to get under Hermione's skirts when I wasn't looking -- I, for one, never thought of going for another boy..."

"Well..." Even though Ron was flushed a bit, he still smiled. "You're probably the only boy I know who didn't at least think about it once or twice, Harry. You've always been a weird one, though."

"Yeah, probably," Harry grinned, patting his friend on the back lightly. "My thing was that I was always trying to figure out what 'normal' size was."

Ron snickered, heading for the door. "I wouldn't tell that to Seamus, Harry. He'll likely want to compare later if that's the case."

Harry's cheeks flushed a little. "Well, your brothers were always interested in comparing..."

Pausing, Ron pressed a hand to his face. "Harry. I hate to tell you this..."

That got him a scowl from the Cannons' seeker. "I know -- they just wanted to look at my bits. We all figured out they were gay before you did, you know."

"Well, you know, it explains a lot, really. All of that time spent in the bathroom together..." Ron said dryly as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "It's no wonder Mum nearly had kittens the time she caught them. And here I thought they were just trying to do something to the toilet seat..."

"Maybe they were," Harry teased after a moment. "They're a very creative duo..."

"Who's creative?" Neville asked, joining them.

"Fred and George," Ron said dryly.

"Oh, my, yes," Seamus said fervently. "Very creative, those two!"

"I don't want to know," Ron groaned. "Not my brothers -- creativity is fine, but don't give me details on them..."

"All righty then," Dean agreed. "Nobody's heard any shrieking and moaning from the dungeons. Think they've fucked themselves to death?"

"I don't think I really want to think about that, either," Ron murmured, eyebrows crawling up a little.

"That could be messy," Harry agreed with Dean, grinning a bit at his friend. "That poor kid, it's all I can say..."

"Well, it would have been a Slytherin anyway..." Seamus reasoned.

"Yeah, but a Slytherin raised by Malfoy and Snape? Brr..."

Seamus shook his head. "The lot of you are assuming quite a bit. For all we know, it's a weekend fling, isn't it? They haven't exactly spoken marriage vows or anything in front of us..."

"Don't seem the sort to fling," Dean pointed out. "The entire time we were here, Draco had sex with... No one at all."

"I thought he was sleeping with all of Ravenclaw!" Harry said.

"I heard it was half of Hufflepuff," Seamus agreed.

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. Blaise said nobody when I talked to him earlier."

"But, if he'd been such a slut as to sleep with half a house, you'd think Professor Snape and he would've... before now, huh?" Neville suggested quietly.

"I still say Draco was just trolling for that missing piece. He's a mother, with a baby, looking for a father and someone who'd support them both. I wouldn't put it past him," Seamus muttered.

"I think you're all obnoxious, jealous children," Hermione told them flatly. "Well. Except Neville and Harry, of course. Really, the lot of you ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Especially you, Seamus, for even thinking such a thing! Has it not occurred to any of you that perhaps, just perhaps, they might be in love? I'm sure it's hard to equate with a Slytherin," and that was true even for her, "but it does happen."

Harry raised eyebrows at his wife. "But, it's... Draco, maybe I can see, but Snape?"

"Well, he sacrificed a lot to keep your fat out of the fire, didn't he, Mr. Harry James Potter?" she said huffily as Parvati and Lavender came down the stairs at last. "Really!"

"'Really' what?" Parvati asked, moving towards them. "What're the boys up to tonight...?"

"Being brats about Malfoy and Professor Snape," Hermione answered, wrinkling her nose. "They're stuck somewhere between 'Malfoy is a slut' and 'Malfoy is a virgin trolling for a Daddy for his demon'."

"I think they're adorable," Lavender declared. "Isn't it so sweet?"

"You don't think I'm sweet!" Seamus huffed.

"Yes, but you're not settled down with just one man, are you?" Lavender pointed out. "THAT is sweet. YOU are not."

"But, but..." Seamus sighed. "Merlin, I still think they're just banging for the weekend."

"Well..." Neville smiled at Harry and Hermione. "Our lives must be pretty dull if this is all we have to talk over."

Ruefully, Harry shook his head. "Well, I suppose we could always talk about Quidditch, raising babies, and the Ministry, but sex seems so much more exciting, I guess."

"Especially sex and how Ron isn't getting any," Seamus chipped in.

They all laughed at that, Ron's ears turning crimson. "Maybe if we go upstairs and get it on, Lavender will think we're cute, too!" he said.

"Hey, maybe..."

"How about we go into the Great Hall instead," Hermione suggested, edging the group on a bit. "Come on..."

"Time for the dance," Harry agreed, gently nudging the lot of them in the same way Hermione was.

"They've been parents too long," Dean said solemnly.

"Are we being herded, Harry?" Ron asked in a bit loud of a protest. "We're not your kids..."

"Really?" Harry faked a look of surprise. "You seem to require the same amount of prodding to get you somewhere!"

"Everyone is just ganging up on me today, aren't they...?" Ron muttered as they group finally moved forwards.

"Can I?" Seamus asked a bit politely.

"Gang up on me?" Ron asked.

"Sure..." Seamus grinned a little, then grabbed Ron's wrists, and jerked him towards the Great Hall. "No more moping!"

"More like take him upstairs and molest him," Dean whispered to Neville, who nodded in agreement as they headed downstairs, music already sounding through the stone hallways.

"Doubt he'd protest..."

Up ahead of them, Harry was trying a smooth move on his wife -- arm, lifted, slipping carefully over her shoulder.

It was rather lame, and just what the approaching Slytherins expected of Potter.

"Shall we, Pansy?" Blaise asked, desperately trying not to snicker.

"Shall we?" She grinned a bit wickedly, then mimicked Potter's motions, snagging her husband close.

Millicent snickered as his hand snuck up the back of Pansy's skirt to lightly pinch the back of her thigh and make her squeal.

"Blaise!" It wasn't a complaint.

"Under your... definitions, Draco, would that be unacceptable for a Slytherin...?" The owner of that questioning voice was unmistakable, as he and Draco turned the corner just in time to see it, lagging behind the other there. Sinestra was surely already in the hall, fidgeting with decoration as she tended to do.

"I believe, as it was distinctly sexual in nature, that it must be perfectly acceptable," Draco said with an equally distinctive sarcasm. "Particularly since it seems to be meant for making fun of Gryffindors, which surely must be a favorite Slytherin pastime."

"Well, since you've already tossed propriety to the winds, Draco..." Severus let a hand settle on the small of Draco's back, possessive. That, he assumed, was 'allowed', too.

The blond smirked, his expression as good as saying one thing extraordinarily clearly. /I win./

Not that Severus would've contested that win, or even bothered to ask what had been won. He was taking a healthy appreciation of Draco's backside, clothed in a neatly tailored tuxedo. It was hard to keep that hand from stroking lower.

"Not only does he show us all up, he looks hotter than should be fucking humanly possible doing it," Ron muttered under his breath to Seamus.

"Which one?" Seamus whispered back.

"Definitely Malfoy," he decided, though to tell the truth... Well. Damn. He shook his head. "I am not thinking Snape is hot. Help me, Seamus!"

"Can... I drag you back to the dorm?" Seamus asked after a moment, while they all strode into the Great Hall.

Startled blue eyes turned his way, going wide. "You mean...???"

"Mmm?" Seamus didn't look the least bit startled. "what?"

Ron's ears were burning, the flush creeping across his face. "Well. YOU know. That is... I mean..." He couldn't say it, he just couldn't! Was Seamus propositioning him? /Merlin,/ he thought. /I can't take the sort of humiliation twice in one weekend if I'm wrong!/

The other wizard just smiled at him, opened his mouth to say something, and then grinned. "After the dance is underway, yah."

Blue eyes became round, huge. "Oh," he said blankly, and for a moment, it seemed he would say nothing more. Finally, though, he came out with an answer. "Okay."

"'Okay'?" Seamus smirked a little at Ron, and patted his ass after a moment's thought. All Ron could do, it seemed, was squeak.

"Well," Draco murmured to Blaise as they looked around the Great Hall, "it looks like the Weasel's going to get at least part of what he seems to have wanted this weekend, after all."

"Part," Blaise said, glancing to Severus who was still... well, it was strange to see the professor not being a professor.

Laughing, Draco turned to Severus and bowed. They'd left Damon with Dobby for the evening, though his father had been most reluctant to do so. "Shall we dance?"

Severus had a moment of almost smug, relaxed silence, before he nodded. "I'll lead, if you don't mind..."

"This time," Draco agreed graciously. "It's my turn, next."

"I believe that I like the idea of switching with you..." Draco found himself tugged a bit closer than was necessary to dance, a closeness that promised an interesting evening.

~~~~~~

"I rather hope it doesn't bother you, Albus, or that you don't have reason to protest Draco Malfoy and his young son Damon moving into my rooms." No mention of for how long, which meant it was going to be permanent for as long as Severus remained at the school. "He'll be assisting me in my research."

"I'm delighted," Dumbledore replied, and his face said as much. "I quite despaired of you ever emotionally attaching yourself again, Severus. How wonderful!"

Severus didn't quite smile in reply, but his lips twitched for a moment, certainly in contentment, and one eyebrow twitched along with his mouth. "Draco has... certainly grown up impressively." And Dumbledore didn't mind him having an assistant on. Wonderful -- two Slytherins teaching potions would send the Gryffindors running in fear.

The older man somehow resisted the urge to snicker.

"Well, I quite agree with you. That year has turned out a most magnificent lot of adults. I do hope Messrs. Weasley and Finnegan continue to get along so well..."

"And I hope that they learn that crawling beneath the punch-table is quite publically unacceptable," Severus agreed a bit vaguely.

"There is that part," Dumbledore replied, sipping from his cup of tea. "I take it that Mr. Malfoy will be leaving long enough to fetch whatever he needs from home?"

"Actually, he won't -- he's sending Dobby to get his things for him." That was Draco entirely, still a bit unsure, and unwilling to apparate home even briefly.

"Ahh, well. We'll see you tonight at dinner, then?" There was that sparkle in the eye, and Severus knew that he knew that neither of them would show up for dinner, and that they'd be lucky if they came out for breakfast, too.

"Perhaps." That 'Perhaps' was all but a 'no', because Severus still looked pleased with himself as he folded his hands together. "I'm sure no one would miss my presence at the table."

"Promise that you will at least occasionally be present? It would be best if everyone accustoms themselves to Mr. Malfoy and son before school begins," Albus told him with an equal amount of satisfaction.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll make occasional appearances." When taking a break from research and sex every so often. The prospect of spending the rest of the summer, and years after that, just like that... Perfectly mind-numbing.

Dumbledore laughed, a hearty, rolling sort of sound that came up from the bottom of his feet, it seemed. "Congratulations, Severus. Indeed..."

"Thank you, Headmaster." Severus's mouth curled up a little, as he drained the last of his cup. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get back before Damon takes his nap..."

"Of course," Dumbledore replied with a nod. "Quite understandable."

When the cup was set down on the headmaster's desk, Severus rose smoothly, inclined his head slightly, and took his leave. With any luck, the Gryffindors would be gone entirely, and he wouldn't even have to pass them on his winding trip to the dungeons.

So much for luck.

"Mr. Finnegan."

"Yes?" Seamus asked slyly, Ron hidden behind a statue, likely with his face flaming red.

"I do believe that such acts in the middle of a Hogwarts hall are likely not only inappropriate but also..."

"Completely improper and maybe even a little unseemly?" Seamus offered happily. "Sort of like that spell that seems to link your rooms and Gryffindor Tower?"

It was hard to not seem at least partly flustered by that, so Seamus had the slightly malicious pleasure of watching Severus's cheeks flush. "It must have been Peeves's work. And that is no excuse for you to linger so in the middle of the hallway."

"Yes, sir," Seamus said, and pinched Ron's ass.

"Ouch!"

The disgusted snort he gave wasn't hard to dredge up. "Get moving, you grown up delinquents."

"Yes, Professor Snape," Seamus snickered, prodding the Weasley along until they were quite out of his sight.

Merlin help future Weasley brats, Severus decided. He waited for a moment, until the hall was silent again, before he moved down the stairwell towards the dungeons. Draco would appreciate the good news he had, news that wasn't unexpected.

By the time he got downstairs again, he could hear Damon's giggles echoing up from the potions lab. "And then, the prince said, 'I'll love you forever. Even if you eat onions.' And they lived happily ever after," Draco declared.

Story-time with Slytherin. Severus waited just a pause, and then stepped into the room. Damon was seated atop his work-table, and Draco had the baby's hands in his, half-holding him properly upright. Not many would believe the adorable picture that Snape saw. Fewer still would believe the feelings of ownership that washed over him.

That was his family, now.

"Did you send Dobby to get your things...?"

Draco looked up, gathering Damon into his arms. "About an hour ago. What did Dumbledore say?" he asked tentatively. He was a bit worried that there might have been objections raised to his presence, but he knew they'd work their way around them.

"That we must make the occasional appearance at table, so the other teachers can become accustomed to you." It took only short steps to cross the room towards Draco, close enough to touch. Not yet, though. Severus smoothed a hand over Damon's fly-away hair first. "He doesn't seem tired at all today..."

"He refused to nap," Draco agreed as the little boy squealed and clutched at Severus's wrist. "I think he knows we're moving in with you and he's so excited he simply can't."

"I hope he doesn't get bored of the surroundings," Severus murmured, looking at Draco as he let his fingers linger. "Sweet child, for a demon. But I would expect nothing less, given his parentage."

"Kiss me again," Draco demanded. "It's almost time for tea. Dobby should be back by then..."

"You're demanding," Severus told him -- but Draco didn't need reminding of it. He leaned closer, pressing his mouth first to the edge of Draco's mouth, then the entirety.

"Always will be," the blond assured a little breathlessly as they parted. "Shall we have... a nap?" he suggested with a look that most definitely requested something besides sleep.

"With Damon awake...?"

"Dobby will be back..." Draco promised with a smile.

"That is very good news. Because as fond as I am of napping with Damon between us... other sleeps can be just as enjoyable." He leaned in again, catching that almost wicked smile in another kiss. Draco's soft mouth was pliant, eager, willing. "As long as the house-elf stays out of the room."

"Master Draco, Master Draco! All is ready, all is back, all is... Ohhh, Master Draco is kissing Professor. Oh, dear," Dobby declared, flustered.

"Right, other sleeps," Draco agreed. "Dobby, take Damon and go..." Somewhere. Anywhere. "Go visit with Dumbledore," he decided, a slightly vicious little smirk crossing his mouth. "Well?" the blond said to Severus, raising an eyebrow. "It's out of the room..."

"Perhaps not far removed enough... simply stay busy for at least an hour or so, Dobby," Severus instructed, stroking Damon's fluffy hair one more time before he turned to pick him up and offer him over to the house elf. "Be good, Damon."

"Daaaaaa," Damon squealed happily.

"Sweet demon," Draco agreed, and kissed him on the nose.

"Did he just... no, of course not. It was just random baby babble -- here, Dobby." After holding the warm little bundle for a moment more, Snape handed him over very carefully to the house elf.

"Daaaa!" Damon shrieked again, clinging to Severus's fingers for a moment as Dobby took him. "Daaaaaa!"

"I think he did," Draco said, practically beaming. "I think he means you!"

"Have a nice time, Damon..." Severus trailed off, then gestured for the house-elf to shoo, before he decided against letting Dobby leave.

"Daaaaa," Damon cooed one last time on Dobby's way out of the classroom.

"Happy much?" Draco asked him moments later, leaning back against Severus's work table.

The school's potions master turned back to Draco, smiling almost secretively to himself. "You don't know the half of it."

"So...." Draco drawled. "Professor. What was that about detention again? Maybe we should just talk about that..."

"And maybe you deserve one for almost poisoning an already ill-fated Quidditch game." Suddenly stern tones, as Severus closed in on the younger man. "There are things, of course, which were never a detention option for you... before."

He saw those pale eyes widen, mingled nervousness and excitement, and he new without doubt that Draco was shivering and hard for him as he watched the younger man suck momentarily at upper lip in thought. "And now?"

And now, Severus thought he'd be lecherous and do what he wanted. "Now I can. Mr. Malfoy, please, remove your robes."

The gleam in the other man's gaze was promptly hidden away behind blond lashes, pale fingers coming up to begin unhooking his robes from the top. They came apart slowly, revealing nothing at all beneath, not unusual considering the heat and how it had filled all of Hogwarts save the dungeons. "Yes, Professor," he nearly purred, trying not to smile. Best not to, Draco decided.

To go on with the game, or to delve into his lover's sleek body? Severus felt his mouth curl into an evil sort of smile, and he goaded, "Lay on your stomach across the work-table, Mr. Malfoy. Stretched out over it, please." The contrast of Draco's pale, faintly peach-tinted skin against the smooth mottled marble of the desktop was already a tempting sight. And it would only get better with Draco stretched out on that table.

With a glance from the corners of his eyes, Draco shifted, turning and bending, fingers reaching for the edge of the marble even as he shivered. Tiny goosebumps rose all over him as he gave a little breath of shock and squirmed, glancing back at Severus with his mouth trembling just a bit.

"You look eager, Mr. Malfoy -- do you want this badly...?" Severus moved close as soon as Draco was still, and laid a hand on his buttock. Lean fingers pressed firmly, rubbing the warm skin. "Tell me you want this badly."

"Desperately," Draco answered, arching himself back to that touch, his entire body devoted to making himself open and available to the other man. It was one of those things he'd often thought about in Potions once he was done with his own work; to be bent over, open, fucked, punished, anything so long as Severus was the one doing it, so long as it was good, and he had known that it would be. "I want this desperately."

"Should I give in to you, Mr Malfoy, or...?" A whispered word followed that, and a small vial flew into his outstretched hand. The thin-looking green liquid would ease the way nicely, Severus decided. "Or should I remember that detention is not a place to be pleased."

/Oh, MERLIN!/ If Severus said something like that again, he'd come all over the table and be damned with waiting or anything else! "Detention..." Draco whispered, squirming. He wasn't sure he could get the rest out. "D-detention is not a place to be pleased," he managed to agree.

"You're to be punished, Mr. Malfoy, not rewarded. Whatever misplaced ideal made you think you were going to be rewarded, you will forget immediately." The vial was opened, and dumped carelessly over the small of his back. Lean fingers followed after it, chasing a good amount down the cleft of Draco's ass.

"Y-yes, Professor." It was said shakily, but he could feel the slim blond arching back to his fingers, to his touch, shuddering beneath them wantonly. "I'll be good." It was a promise and quite possibly a lie; Draco had always had problems being just good. He was sometimes a little bad, sometimes almost good, sometimes excellent, and sometimes a wretched, horrible brat, but never, ever had he been plain 'good'. There was always fine print under anything Draco did -- if he was good, there was a sure motive behind the 'goodness'.

"That... would be very boring." One finger delved into Draco quickly, a stab of sensation. "You're Slytherin, not a Gryffindor."

That motion brought about a yelp of exquisite pain-pleasure. "Yes, Professor," Draco blurted out, chewing on the inside of his mouth to keep from begging for more. "I'll remember that, Professor!"

"Good, Mr. Malfoy. I don't want you to fail the house's memory just because you feel a need to be 'good'." It didn't pause or fail in motion -- that digit started to drive in and out of him, squirming and twisting. "Tell me when you can handle another."

"Now, now," Draco whined, wriggling against the cold tabletop desperately. Even if he couldn't handle another, he wanted one, wanted Severus's cock pounding into him. His own was rubbing deliciously across cool, smooth marble, and he groaned loudly as he shook his head back and forth between his arms.

"I think you're lying," Severus smiled, as he wormed his thumb in beside the first digit. "I don't care, however. This is for my enjoyment, and I will enjoy you, Mr. Malfoy."

It was enough to make a grown man come all over himself, Draco decided, groaning loudly at those words. /Yes. Yes. Yours, all yours, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.../ He didn't even realize he'd said it aloud as he shoved back to meet each push of finger and thumb, crying out in a low, steady sound.

The finger pulled out, and Severus twisted his slick hand down to cup Draco's heavy balls; all the while, he kept twisting his thumb. "Beg."

Oh, MERLIN, just those words made Draco's eyes cross! Never mind the feel of the man's thumb teasing deep in him. "Please!" he moaned. "Oh, Merlin, please, I'll do anything, Professor, anything, just please, PLEASE, God, yes, anything...!"

One more slick-fingered squeeze of his balls, and Severus pulled his hand away entirely, invading digit and all. "Spread your legs, Mr. Malfoy, and get up on your toes."

/Oh my TOES?/ Oh, he couldn't wait for this, he decided, and he obeyed. Feet came planted wide apart, weight mostly supported by the table as he shifted. "Please..."

He felt a slick, blunt nudge, and he realized that the lifting of himself onto his toes put him at the perfect height for Severus to just press against him. "Take a deep breath, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco closed his eyes, trembling, breathed in -- half-way through that breath, his lover shoved in deep. His cock was crushed against the marble table-top, at the very time that Severus drove heatedly into him. The yell he gave in response was half-pained, more pleasured, and he clenched tightly around Severus in reaction, head flinging from side to side momentarily with the sheer heat of it. "FUCK!" he moaned virulently, letting loose a heated little sob. Draco couldn't help it when his hips beat back needily, asking for more.

Severus's hands, strong despite their leanness, caught at his hips, forcing him back even with the table. "I will move -- you will take what I give you."

The effect those words had on Draco was visible; his back stiffened for a moment, and then the entirety of his body became not-quite-limp, offering itself up to him as the younger man gave a quiet sob of reckless craving.

Hands guided, held him still and pressed down against the counter as if he were an ingredient. Just something to be used and taken, as Severus's width pressed into him, and then pulled out, and then pressed in again. It built to a rolling, easy rhythm, and soon the scrape of robes against the backs of his thighs matched the ragged gasp of Severus's breath, his own desperate little pants.

"PLEASE..." It was hardly more than a whisper, yet desperately meant. The thought of doing this, being this way with Severus Snape, was unbearably enticing, and he was shuddering, so close. If he closed his eyes, Draco could almost pretend that any moment, any second, the classroom would be invaded by Slytherins and Gryffindors, that they'd all see Severus fucking him, and the fantasy was nearly unbearable as he cried out, trying not to shove back for more.

"At my own pace, Mr. Malfoy, because this is your punishment." Words without action to meet them, because Severus's hips were slamming faster, rolling and grinding into him with force. He could've come just from having Draco so limp and willing beneath him.

Punishment, yes, potions room, yes, naked, yes, together, yes, Professor, student, coming, yes, yes, yes, so close, so close, clenching tight, overwhelming, yelling out, not able to stop, not ever able to stop....! "Se...e....ah....ah....ah....." Draco knew he couldn't hold back much longer, another moment at most, and his tightly clenched fingers held even more tightly to the table.

A hot burst of liquid spilled into him, and the fingers grasping at his hips dug in mercilessly to hold him still. "Draco... Mine." Barely audible at all, over the panting huffs of Severus's voice.

Just the sound of it finished him off, and he sobbed quietly against the table when he finished, trembling violently beneath Severus as much with emotion as with cold. "Yes," he agreed, closing his eyes tightly. /God. Yes./

"Shhh." One soft order, as Severus eased out of him, and pulled him back off the table. The motion streaked semen over the marble work-top, before the potions master pulled Draco's body upright, and back against him. "Well served detention, I believe." He could feel Draco wobble against him, knees not quite willing to hold himself up as yet.

"I only hope to serve it often," the blond agreed with a little sound that was almost a laugh.

"Not too often," Severus chided, hands pressing against Draco's stomach to pull him back against the older wizard's front side. Opened robes brushed the skin of Draco's side. "That was perfect, however."

Arms wrapped warmly around his neck and Draco turned, leaned up, kissed him deliciously. "Flawless," he whispered, "when combined with everything else you give me. "

Whispered words against Severus's mouth were one more thing to tuck away as a treasured thing. "Let's go to bed now, Draco -- finish making the best of our time alone.. today. There's an infinity of opportunities before us, now."

With a look, Draco gathered his hands and tugged at him, pulling him towards the bedroom silently as footfalls. Draco's empty robe, a cast off vial, and the messy table laid as testament to their shared affections.

"My, little demon. Dobby thinks all will be very entertained by this," the house-elf muttered from outside the door, and all was quiet.

For a time.

Severus had never seen Draco looking quite so ruffled. Well, perhaps that wasn't exactly true. Perhaps he had seen him looking that way before, only he'd never seen this. White blond hair stood on end the way Damon's had when he'd only been six months old, and one of his lovely grey eyes was twitching.

"Remind me," Draco said slowly, though perhaps not patiently, "why Madame Pomfrey thought that magical ways of curing colic weren't as good as the Muggle ones?"

"Because silence spelling a child doesn't get to the root of the problem... no matter how tempting it is." A hand slipped over Draco's back, soothing him much as Draco had tried to soothe the black-haired baby that was finally asleep in the room next door. "He doesn't sleep as well as Damon."

"Naturally not. He's a Snape." While that was said somewhat sourly, there was no denying that it wasn't meant. After all, Draco had done a good three-fourths of the weaving so that Severus could continue to teach and watch after Damon. "It would make me feel better." Back to arguing for the silence spell, then.

Severus twisted Draco to face him, and dropped a soft kiss against his companion's mouth. "Next time he wakes up, then. You stay in bed and I will take care of it..."

The blond responded to the kiss with one of his own before he sighed and crawled into their bed. There was just something so lovely about Draco at three in the morning when they'd only just managed to put out the surprises from 'Santa Clause' and gotten Sisyphus to go to sleep. "I'm not getting up tomorrow. I don't care if it's Christmas. I wouldn't care if it was my birthday. I don't care if there's a Potter-Weasley orgy being held in Diagon A... well, all right, perhaps I'd get up just to point and laugh, but never mind that now."

"Damon will be disappointed if his father isn't there when he... decimates his gifts," Severus murmured in droll recollection of the previous year. He tugged Draco nearer, still soothing his cranky mate; after all, if Draco were in a good mood, his own chances of having a decent day increased a thousand fold.

"You're his father, too. He'll be delighted," Draco disagreed sleepily, closing his eyes and snuggling into the covers. The faint wink of green and white fairy lights from the room next door left imprints on the backs of them, but he was so glad to be in bed that he didn't have the energy to get up and find his wand to turn them off.

His lover pulled him closer, almost coddling him, but it was comfortable. "I'll give you a pepper up in the morning."

"And perhaps another sort of up?" the blond asked him, rubbing back with apparent interest. Perhaps he wasn't quite so sleepy after all.

"Once you've slept, another sort of up would be more than appre--"

"Fath'r, there're gifts under th' tree!"

With a low whimper, Draco scrunched under the covers more tightly. "I'm not here. I'm asleep. I'm invisible... I'm so tired!"

Severus shifted to sit up, once his lover had made it clear he wasn't going to move. "Come here, Damon. What're you going on about?"

"Presents, Daddy!" The little boy was doing his very best to climb up into the bed with them, and with a bit of assistance, he finally made it. "There're presents an' things an' even, I saw my name! I know I did! It's time to open from Santa Clause!"

"Merlin," Severus moaned, even as he rapped lightly on the boy's back with a long-fingered hand. He loved the boy dearly, but sometimes he was so demanding, just like his father. "You... must take a nap first. You haven't gotten enough sleep, and if you don't get enough sleep, your presents will turn to dust before you open them."

"But Daddyyyyyy..."

"Daddy's right," Draco declared, pulling his head out from its snug little hiding place. "At least until dawn, Damon."

"Or else you won't have a single present there. Every last thing of it will be, foompf, dust. Now, lay down and be good." Severus started to do the same, laying on his back so he could pull the ensconced Draco near again.

"C'n I sleep with you and Father?" Damon asked. Severus knew they'd be in for a horrible bunch of fidgets, but there was nothing for it.

"Yes, but lay here." He patted the other side of him, hoping to spare Draco the pale boy's excited fidgeting over the gifts he was going to get.

"All right, Daddy," Damon sighed. "Will Sisyphus..."

"Sisyphus," Draco said sleepily, "will doze like a good boy should. Dawn, Damon."

Dawn. Severus wasn't sure he could stand to wait until dawn for the little boy to stop kicking or kneeing him accidentally in the chest. "Still, Damon," he hissed.

"I'll be still," the little boy promised, and he was more or less true to his word... more or less because he couldn't really help the excited wriggling he kept giving. He was already worn out and Severus knew it, but Christmas was so exciting.

"You haven't been into the candy, have you?" Severus hadn't thought to check his boy's breath for mint, or chocolate, but now he swore he could smell both. Or he was hallucinating both.

"Just a little, Daddy. Just the piece Father let me have before bed... Well, and the piece he gave me after supper, and the piece when we listened to the Wireless and..."

"Sorry, Severus."

"Indeed you will be," Severus scowled to the ceiling, though the arm around Draco gave a little squeeze. "Three or four...?"

"Four..." Draco admitted, squirming back to him. They were warm, Damon was in bed with them, and he could hear Sisyphus sleeping next door via the listening spell they kept running. "It didn't seem like so much at the time..."

"Mmhm. Christmas eve, an excitable boy, and candy." Severus kissed the top of Damon's head. "Try to sleep."

"Yes, Daddy." Such an agreeable, sweet little boy. It made him suspiciously warm, not that any of his Gryffindor students would believe him capable of such a thing. "I'll be good."

"And I'll be sleeping," Draco yawned.

"The two are not exclusive," Severus told them both before he stifled his own yawn. "Mm. I trust you both to be good..." And Sisyphus to sleep through the rest of the night. He'd already had three fits and seemed to have exhausted himself after the last one.

"I'm good, Daddy..." Damon said, and his eyes closed, though it seemed very difficult for him to do.

"And I, of course, am occasionally good, but more often naughty. I find it excellent that Santa's presents have been replaced by yours," Draco assured him, snuggling close. It wouldn't be long before they were both asleep, Severus knew.

There was contentment itself to be found in laying there with Draco snuggled up against his side, Damon at his other side, and Sisyphus sleeping safely nearby. His comfortable, content family. Draco and the two children would have all the gifts their hearts desired, but he would concentrate on savoring the gifts that were starting to finally fall asleep beside him.