Children stood silent and occasionally giggling in the line. Few knew what House they'd sort into, just as few teachers knew, looking at them, where they would end up. The broad-shouldered, grinning boy? The quiet, observant brown-haired boy? The pudgy blonde? All roughly the same in the eyes of many.

Personality was a hard thing to gauge just from a glance down their eleven year old ranks. All were essentially harmless -- essentially. But Dumbledore knew better than to believe that entirely. All could be harmless, but there were a few...

"From what family does the little one near the end come?" Flitwick whispered, nudging Dumbledore slightly.

"Snape," Dumbledore murmured to his fellow professor. "He'll sort Slytherin, not Ravenclaw, Filius."

Flitwick eyed him in utter shock for a moment, then laughed, "Well, I suppose someone must sort there. A good guess! We'll soon see how right or wrong you are."

The other wizard nodded, smiling that light, disarming smile -- it still didn't change that he knew. It was a feeling that touched at his mind, intuition united with facts squeezed from gossip. The Snape child had lost both parents in the War when he was very young. They'd died in the service of Voldemort -- the boy, four, had been with a nanny when the Aurors swept into the estate. His aging Ravenclaw grandfather had moved back to the Manor to raise him. But the damage had surely been done, and the boy had already gleaned a particular... mind set. It was tempered by his grandfather's love of books, yet...

Yet Dumbledore knew where he would sort even if the headmaster would draw no such conclusions. And he could only hope that this one didn't slip entirely through the school's weak safeguards.

---

It was too loud. Not noise -- but silence, a full measure of it. Then, almost startled clapping, from the rows of green-covered tables, when he walked towards them. There was an empty seat near the end, so he slipped there silently. It was hard not to look with utter disdain at his new 'friends', so he let a little of his distaste slip through in his eyes. Unfamiliar faces, every one of them. It was, in fact, the only time he could remember seeing so many children in one place, let alone so close to him. He was supposed to make friends? That was a tiresome thought, one that made him want to go home immediately.

His gaze drifted -- other names were called, more loud cheering from the red tables, but he didn't seem about to be bothered by it. Instead, he looked at the older boy he'd sat down beside, studying him as he would some wild animal.

The young Snape wasn't sure why, but he thought he'd like him.

"So. You're Severus Snape." The blond looked at him, sharp nose lifted slightly, head tilted to the side. "I've heard of you. Your parents used to visit the Manor."

"Oooh," a dark-haired boy said from across the table. "Malfoy's got an interest in one of the new brats."

"Shut it, Lestrange, or you'll wish you had," the blond said idly, sharp grey eyes never once moving from Severus's pale face. An idle hand was held out, gracefully limp. "I'm Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy."

Severus didn't shake that hand, though -- he just continued to look at Lucius with appraising eyes, that looked a twinge sharp for his age. "I haven't any parents." Not that he could remember, at least. Oh, there were faces -- baby sitters, nannies and nurses, and his Grandfather, of course. The old bookworm, who at least had let him read his way through the library. "I'm Severus." At last, he did take that idle hand carefully with his own small, thin, and warm fingers. The severity and calm of the gesture was shattered when a lock of thin hair slithered from the side of his face to his cheekbone, and he blew it off his face.

"It's nice to meet you, Severus." Lucius's own fingers were cool, smooth, and they barely clasped his. "I'm second year. Sadly so's Lestrange, though he's a bit of a prick on occasion."

"Don't make me hurt you, Malfoy."

"Don't make me make you regret that, Lestrange."

Severus slid his hand free of those limp fingers, not because the sensation was odd, but because he wasn't very used to touching someone for longer than a few words. Still, he remained very close to the Malfoy that sat beside him on the bench. "What's it like here?" His voice was soft, low and whispery compared to the cheering that rose up.

Hmn. Just some old, old man standing up to make a speech.

"Very goody goody. They're all into 'doing the right thing' and 'winning fair' and 'working hard'. You know," Lucius drawled. "The Gryffindor way or some sort of ridiculous thing such as that." The declaration brought laughter from most of the Slytherins, none of whom were paying any attention to the man speaking at the front.

Severus among them. He hadn't even glanced to the boy in front of him on the other side of the table -- his pale face was still upturned to look at the second year beside him. Lucius seemed so much older than him! "Grandfather wanted me to sort Ravenclaw -- he'll just have to take this," Severus murmured quietly.

"Your parents were both Slytherin," Lucius assured him. "They were at school with my father. He said they were brilliant, and that you were sure to take after them." Lucius's father had also said that they had been sneaky, and that it was a good idea to make friends with Snape to soon as he arrived if at all possible.

The boy looked innocent, though -- not sneaky at all... Well. It was hard to tell, because he looked so quiet. And he was still all but staring at Lucius -- though when he gave that comment, black eyes narrowed doubtfully. "I am brilliant."

One white-blond brow rose, the pale boy appearing quite amused. "Well, if you're so certain of it, I won't argue."

"Nah," somebody muttered, "Lucius will just show him up like he does all the rest of us."

Severus's gaze finally snapped towards that boy, and he flicked his wand out. It looked almost over-sized in his slender fingers, and the willowy voice of a boy seemed ill-fit for hissing the curse he gave. The third year's mouth puckered and shrunk, and stayed that way.

"There isn't anything to show up," Severus declared softly.

"Just at a guess," Lucius drawled, "I'd say he can hold his own. So sorry about that, Baddock. If you ask nicely, he might even tell you the countercurse. Oh, wait... That's right. You can't ask now, can you? Tch. How sad..."

Lucius's banter finally dragged a smile to Severus's lips, at the very moment food appeared on the tables. Piled high, fancifully decorated, laden all over the table. There was so much... Severus darted a hand out, almost warily, and plucked up a cup-cake from the tray in front of Lucius. "I may undo it if you beg."

"MMMM!!!!" Baddock demanded.

"Nicely, he said," the blond boy chided. He decided right off that he was going to like Severus better than anyone else thus far. Not only was he willing to make enemies, he was smart enough to know a curse that Lucius fully understood as being on a sixth year level and he was only eleven.

Two thoughtful phrases left Severus's lips, as he flicked his wand again. His other hand, far less delicately, was full of cupcake, icing side in. But Baddock's mouth twisted open again, though he looked... stunned.

Severus knew well enough to cover his tracks, too. He didn't linger over the act, as he put his wand back up his sleeve, and took the cupcake in both hands. Too often he ate alone, so his manners, still neat and fastidious, seemed... odd. The palmful of icing wasn't wiped off on a napkin, but licked off.

There wasn't much sense in wasting a good sweet, in his opinion.

Lucius decided that he DEFINITELY liked this brat. He was fully aware of certain things, things that perhaps the average twelve year old hadn't yet considered, and the way that pink tongue darted out, caressed over palm and finger... He smirked, the sight of it visibly twisted. "My. I do believe we will make excellent friends, Snape."

It soared over Severus's head, even if Malfoy only had an inkling of it himself. He scraped the rest of the icing off with his thin fingers, and then started to delicately eat the cake part of it. "I don't really know what that means. I haven't any..." Not the mournfully toned words that Lucius would've expected. Plain, calm, uncaring statement.

Those grey eyes widened, gleamed. "Don't worry," he promised. "You and I, we'll both find out, then."

"Isn't that just fucking sweet," Lestrange muttered, looking warily at Severus. He didn't want to find his mouth all shrunk up like Baddock's!

"You think you're funny because you're being sarcastic. Well, you're not," Severus pointed out, after he'd chewed a few mouthfuls of his cupcake, and picked the excess out of the paper wrapper. His grandfather was always very sparing with sweets, which made Severus want all the more to just gorge himself on them.

Disgruntled, the other boy shook his head. "Well, you're a little smartass, and a know-it-all besides, so it's rather the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?"

A rather thick-looking fellow beside Lucius turned to his friend. "'Ey, Crabbe?" he asked, grabbing at a chicken leg.

"Yeah?"

"Why'd a pot call a kettle black?"

"Dunno," the one named Crabbe said. "Maybe it's 'cause they're kitchen utensils."

Lucius sighed impatiently. "It's because pots and kettles are black," he pointed out, rolling his eyes and then smirking at Severus. "As I'm sure Snape here knows, even if the rest of you lot don't."

Severus gave a nod, and for a moment his gaze drifted over the hall. He wasn't attached to the bickering, and didn't seem to care much over who won. No, he wanted to learn everything he could, everything there was to learn, and to be left alone.... well. Black eyes drifted back to Lucius, and Snape tilted his head back a little again, almost staring once more. Severus decided he'd be all right if the stupid people left him alone.

"Who's the head of our house?"

"Professor Hecate," Lucius said. "She teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said a little slyly, giving a smile that would have fairly well rocked any of the Slytherin girls down to their toes, no matter whether they were twelve or fifteen, and no few amount of members from other houses. "I'll bet you'll like that one. What else do you like?"

"Potions," Severus replied. His eyes glinted a little, and that faint smile on his thin face remained in place. "Grandfather let me help with his research, and it was always very interesting." One bony hand edged near a bowl of candies, but didn't take. Not yet.

Lucius noticed, though. Oh, he noticed. "You like sweet things," he said, tilting his head to the side. "So, sweet things and potions, hm? Well, now I know how to win you over," he whispered so that the others couldn't hear, expression vaguely amused.

Severus wasn't sure he liked having people amused because of him. Caught, he took the handful of unwrapped candies, and settled them on his lap to pick through out of sight. Most of them were new to him, and very interesting to look at. "You haven't to win me over. I am in this house now."

"Don't worry," Lucius assured smoothly. "You'll know what I mean by the end of the week, likely. Anyway, pretty soon, the prefects will gather up all of the first years and herd the lot of you along to your dorms."

"Who else is a first year...?" He expected Lucius to have the answers he didn't -- the social things, ceremony and such. It seemed that Lucius knew that well. "I didn't pay attention to that."

"The ones from Baddock to the end of the table; and the ones from you to the end, as well." Lucius had caught a few names; one of the Parkinson brats, a sister of some Gryffindor, Brown or something, but other than that, he really hadn't noticed much about them, either. They didn't seem that important, really, in the face of a much more interesting person.

Lucius always indulged his interests.

It was better still when an interest could eventually facilitate his own interests. His father always stressed that he look out for himself, and do what would serve him best, after all. Severus seemed to... lack that, but he wasn't trusting or stupid, at least. Slytherin didn't need any more stupid, cruel brutes in the house.

Severus glanced at the other first years, chattering among themselves, and no few watching him talk to Lucius. An exclusive sort -- he knew he'd be the one excluded, knew it right away. It wouldn't bother him much at all. "Oh. Those."

"Look, if you want, I'll show you our rooms, later." It wasn't an offer out of the goodness of his heart, even Lucius had to admit. The boy showed great promise, capability that was quite frankly more than any of the other boys his age had ever shown except, perhaps, for Lestrange, and he wasn't really to be trusted. It would be better, he thought, to be sure that Severus trusted him, perhaps even only him. Yes, that was a plan. He'd see how it worked out as they went along.

There seemed to be no apprehension over that idea, not even a flicker of it. "I'd like that." And then he went back to chewing on a piece of toffee, still looking at Lucius. It made the blond boy feel like he was some glass-caged creature, but the drilling looks from black-black eyes were appraising.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lucius asked him, tilting his head to the side. It was odd, as if Severus had never seen anything quite like him before.

"Because you don't look real. You look as from a book-illustration." Severus decided that as he idly popped another toffee into his mouth, chewing neatly. The silence he'd suffered after being sorted was worth it to eat sweets and sit beside someone so fascinating to look at, and intelligent.

"Of course I do," Lucius agreed, preening slightly for Severus's benefit. "I'm a Malfoy. It's a trait of ours to be devilishly handsome and charming."

The black-haired boy grinned, for just a flicker of a moment, in an almost nervous way. Lucius was devilishly handsome, and Severus knew that he... well, he was skinny, and he had a big nose. That was all he needed to know, and that it didn't really matter to bookworms. If he could cast spells, no one would pick on him. Of course, his grandfather had told him to just smile and be nice.

The old man was out of touch with reality. "You're very good at it."

"I know," Lucius answered smugly. "And when I have children, they will also be very good at it. The best, in fact, I do believe."

"It only goes to figure that the people best at being Malfoy-ish would be Malfoys," Lestrange drawled, leaning an elbow on the table.

"Was I talking with you?" Severus fixed that intense gaze on the boy who'd just spoken -- but didn't leave him with a chance to answer. "No. So it isn't any of your business."

"Fucking God, Lucius..."

"DO watch your tongue," Lucius drawled. "I'm sure you'd hate to lose it." It wasn't a threat of Severus doing it, either; Lucius was fully capable of at least temporarily shutting up Lestrange in quite a manner of delightful magical ways, as he often practiced on the Manor's house elves.

"Why're you cursing like a muggle?" Severus was tidying up his candy, tucking it away into his pockets as the Hufflepuffs were being rounded up to be taken off.

"It's a horrid affectation he picked up on holiday, slumming with the nastiest trash imaginable, I suspect," Lucius informed Severus smugly.

"You're a hateful brat, Malfoy, and I'd watch your back if I were you!"

"No problem there," the blond drawled limpidly, gesturing to Crabbe and Goyle beside him. "I really don't think you want to try that, Lestrange."

"Why is he a hateful brat, but you're not? You've been saying things, too." Severus folded his hands in his lap, and then unfolded them to take a drink of his juice. "Are there two standards?"

"Yes," Lestrange agreed.

"I am a brat," Lucius informed the table at large, "but I'm the best brat out of the lot of you, and I suggest you not forget it. Else I'll find ways to make sure you remember it," he threatened, and in that moment, he honestly looked frightening enough that even the few fourth years nearby backed away slightly.

A lean boy from the other side of the table stood up, then, and made his way towards where the first years sat. "All right -- first year Slytherins, follow me. You're going to go with me to the dormitories..."

"See you downstairs," the blond told Severus with a distinct smile. "You'll love it."

Downstairs? He stood up smoothly, and dusted down the front of his cloak. "Goodbye, Lucius." A pity that he had to go off with his peers and face their stupidity... but he'd be able to see Lucius soon, and that was grand.

A languid motion of one pale hand waved him away, a sort of goodbye, and grey eyes watched him as he walked out with the other first years.

"Hey, Malfoy?"

Lucius turned to look at Gristian Goyle, a pale brow rising in question.

"Why so much interest in a first year?"

It was an excellent question, really, all things considered, and that misty gaze turned to once again watch the door of the Great Hall thoughtfully. "A bit of a hunch, actually. His parents died in the service of the Lord," he murmured, and they all knew what he meant, just as most of them knew that his father stood at Voldemort's right hand. "He's bright, a little unusual, and he already knows curses most of you lot don't, just from the look of what's passed."

Goyle nodded slowly, equally contemplative. For all that some things passed over his head and that of Pyrrhus Crabbe, both of them were devoted to Lucius and took his word above all others as to what might be right or wrong or even necessary.

"Really, Malfoy," Lestrange sneered. "It's so out of character for you to take interest in someone else. What's that brat capable of giving you?"

"We'll just see, won't we?" Lucius drawled, standing from the table. Crabbe and Goyle both stood with him, swiping cupcakes as they did so, and Lucius grabbed a couple as well, almost as if it was an afterthought. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually, Nordstrom," he said sweetly, almost insulting Lestrange with the use of his ridiculous first name.

And they left before Lestrange had time to snap out a retort.

---

The stairs were moving, and Severus's first thought on it was that he didn't like moving stairs at all. So far the whole of the building seemed alive, in ways that Snape Manor never had been. Oh, he was used to moving pictures, unlike some of the half-bloods who walked in that group. He was also accustomed to hidden doorways and floating candles for light, though he shied away from the candles a little. They had a nasty habit of dripping wax when least expected, and his pale skin didn't handle burns well.

Just as he didn't seem to handle listening to banter well. The other children talked, but he walked quietly in their ranks, listening patiently to the Prefect.

"...boys dorms down and to the left, girls to the right. Your things have already been put away for you."

An idea that had never occurred to him before. Severus was used to having his own room, his own bed, and the quiet, smothering silence of privacy. Now he'd have to share a room...?

It didn't promise to be pleasant, especially when he stepped into the room that seemed to be assigned to first years.

"Hey," a redheaded boy said. "Look. It's that guy that was talking to the blond..."

Another boy moved forward, thrusting out his hand. "I'm Parkinson. And you are?"

"Snape," Severus murmured, staring at Parkinson's hand as if it were a foreign thing. Then he took it, after a long pause, and shook lightly with his thin hand. "Severus Snape." He didn't really look at Parkinson as he shook the other boy's hand, though -- he glanced around the dormitory, the handsomely crafted, large bunk-style beds, for his things.

"Yes, yes, I've heard of you. Parents are dead, aren't they? Poor little orphan boy," the redhead mocked.

"I'm not an orphan," he defended, letting go of Parkinson's hand. "I've my grandfather, and he's family enough. Who're you, to laugh at me?"

"Oh, him. He's just a Weasley or something."

"I am NOT a bloody muggle-loving Weasley!" the redhead sneered. "I'm Marvin Bulstrode, and you know it, Parkinson, you ass!"

"You've no right to say a thing to me in that tone of voice, Marvin Bulstrode," Severus decided, before he turned away to head to the bunk he saw his trunk on. It didn't take him but a moment to sit on the bottom bed, and start digging through it for a book. The other students his age struck him as dull.

"Just leave him alone," Parkinson drawled. "He probably should've been Ravenclaw or something anyway, as he's even brought books with him, particularly ones that aren't schoolbooks. 'S not worth the effort, all right, Bulstrode? Keep your shorts on."

"What was I supposed to bring with me?" Severus asked, looking up from the pages a bit idly. His wand, unseen to them, slid down his sleeve a little, until the point nuzzled against his palm with familiarity.

"Schoolbooks, school stuff, that kind of thing. Not outside books. Only people do that're Ravenclaws," Bulstrode said a little rudely.

"So who was that blond kid you were sucking up to?" Parkinson asked him.

"Lucius Malfoy," Severus pronounced with obvious delight curling his mouth. "I wasn't 'sucking up'. I was speaking with him. Something you can't do because you've probably the conversational ability of an owl."

"Why you obnoxious little geek!" Parkinson declared, moving to push at him. "Say that again!"

Severus closed the book slowly, bent a little to slip it back into the chest. His wand fitted better into his fingers, ready to use it at a moment's notice -- at the first touch of hand to him. "You've the conversational ability of an owl."

"FIGHT!" Bulstrode yelled as Parkinson flew at Severus.

"I wouldn't suggest that if I were you," came a slow drawl from the doorway. "But go right ahead, if you want to destroy any hope you ever have of speaking again or, say, having children."

Parkinson felt the tip of Severus's wand nestled against his breastbone, the other boy having jerked back into the bunk proper when Parkinson had lunged. Fear had made him do that, but instinct put his wand to the fore, ready to blast the bigger boy back. Then, lucky for them all, that voice broke in. Not lowering his wand, Severus murmured, "Hello, Lucius."

"Do come along, Severus. I'm sure there are far more entertaining things to do than to lay beneath a Parkinson, of all people," Lucius said primly.

"Oh, yeah!?" Parkinson asked.

"Quite," Lucius agreed.

The thin boy squirmed a little -- accidentally kneeing Parkinson in the crotch -- before he slipped to the floor and straightened his clothes. A toffee fell out of his pocket, and he stooped a moment to clutch it in the same hand his wand held. "All right." Then he brushed past Bulstrode, who at least had the sense not to defy the blond boy looming in the doorway. The other first year boys had the sense to stay out of the fray.

"And you just make sure that you remember to act that way," Lucius told them coldly. "I won't accept any of you losing House points over something stupid, and particularly not over abusing Severus. Keep that in mind."

Parkinson was clutching at his crotch and making whining noises -- though, Bulstrode nodded for them both, even if it was insincere. Severus didn't seem to notice, instead standing right in front of Lucius, waiting to be led out.

After all, he wasn't just going to walk past Lucius, too! Severus was mostly sure that three steps out of the dormitory, and he'd be permanently and hopelessly lost.

"Come, Severus," Lucius said, and turned, moving out into the hallway with an aching grace that would have made anyone envious, a hand lightly gesturing for him to follow.

Severus fell easily into step with Lucius. The blond boy may have been older than him, and generally bigger, but Severus had long, skinny legs that let him easily match Lucius' footfalls. "Where're we headed?"

"Second year dormitories. They're a level down, actually. Crabbe and Goyle and Lestrange are all in there, as well, but I doubt you'll have any worries. If you like, you can stay there tonight." It was an offer made purely because Lucius did know that the other boys were likely to exact revenge in the dark of the night, but he wasn't going to say it aloud. He didn't want company in his bed every night, after all.

Severus was an odd enough duck to do just that, too -- oddly puppy-like in that he seemed to trust Lucius, but sharp-minded, and a bit vicious. "If I run, it won't do me anything but make them more sure of themselves. And I shan't like living with cocky people." Still, he wanted to go with Lucius, and see the other dormitories, and be with the older boys.

"Well, it's certainly your decision," Lucius agreed, slipping down the stairs. "Watch out for every sixth step. One occasionally tries to eat you."

"On all of the stairs, or only this set?" He paused at the top of the steps, as Lucius slipped lower. Black eyes looked warily down their length, as if seeking teeth.

"Only this set," Lucius admitted over his shoulder. "You'll learn the peculiarities in time. There are staircases that move, some with disappearing steps, others which turn into spirals when you step on them, that sort of thing. Once you step on the first, I suspect you'll remember about it thereafter."

"I'd rather not be eaten my first day..." But he started down the stairs stubbornly, counting softly. When he stood on the fifth step, he jumped to the seventh, and started the count anew. It was a great deal slower than Lucius's careless trot.

A fair snicker came from the blond as he reached the landing. "No," he said, "I can't imagine you'd like that at all."

"They don't really eat people do they? Steps haven't stomachs, have they?" he asked warily, once he was standing beside Lucius again, and peering over his shoulder.

"It'll just slobber all over you, no real harm done," Lucius admitted, continuing down the hallway there. "But it is awfully disgusting to feel and nasty to hear, and quite frankly, I don't want to listen to the screaming about it tonight."

"I wouldn't scream," Severus halfway promised, looking sideways at Lucius as they went down the hallway. It probably wouldn't help him from getting lost, watching the other boy instead of the hall.

"I wouldn't, either," the blond replied, "but it's just as well to know its there and what it'll do, isn't it? Veela," he announced calmly, and a hidden door swung open, revealing the second year dorm room. It was quite different than that of the first years; for one thing, there were bookcases scattered across the walls, and separate beds, though all but one of them were actually smaller than the bunk beds Severus had seen. That one almost naturally belonged to Lucius, for the older boy strolled over and dropped onto it. "So."

"Brought your pet, I see," Lestrange grumbled, pulling his covers over his head.

"Shut it, Nordstrom."

"I'm not a pet," Severus murmured, crossing his arms for a moment as he stood near the bed for a moment, then sat down beside Lucius thoughtfully. "Will you tell me what classes are like here? They went on and on about ceremony and blither, when all I want to know is what we'll get to learn."

"The first few years are core classes; Transfigurations, Potions, History of Magic, Flying Lessons, Charms, Dark Arts -- they call it Defense Against, but you can ignore that. It's that sort of thing. You learn the basics, and then third year, you get to choose electives of sorts, Divinations, Arithmancy, etcetera. Would you like one?" Lucius asked, offering him a small box with a chocolate frog in it.

A soft, pleased noise left Severus, and he uttered, "Thank you," even as he reached for it. Chocolate Frogs were fun to eat because they moved. He could snap one jumpy leg off and suck on it, while the rest of the enchanted frog twitched pathetically. It was indescribably pleasing, and easier to do because it was just an enchantment, and meant to be eaten. He cupped the squirming thing in both thin hands for a moment, then did just that, popping one twitching leg halfway between his lips. "Grandfather didn't like me to have candy, ever."

"Bad for the teeth, right?" Lucius mocked. "Father feels the same way, but Mother sends me packages every other day."

"An' he shares," Goyle agreed from where he lounged on his own bed several feet away, parchment spread out around him.

"You really should have done your homework before now, Gristian," Lucius sighed, but he knew it was useless.

"No, he says it's bad for the..." Severus patted his concave tummy. "He is a big man. I think he doesn't let me have any because he'd eat them himself." Severus's gaze followed Lucius's and he skipped right along in conversation with, "You have summer homework?"

"Yes. Learning is a constant process, or so Father claims. Personally..." Lucius's voice lowered to a mischievous whisper. "I think it's just the parental hope that having a tad more to do will keep us out of a bit of trouble, hm?"

"Or out of the garden," Severus agreed softly. He finished chewing on the frog's foot, before he snapped off the front leg on the same side, and then set it on the bed to watch it try to hop. "Does Hogwarts have a garden?"

"Several," Lucius replied. "Why would they want to keep you out of the garden, though?" Watching the small dark-haired boy torture the chocolate frog was no small amount fascinating.

"Because I liked to look through the flowers. And sometimes I chewed on them, because I knew what they'd do if I mixed them in my mouth." That was why his grandfather had banned him from the garden, which had been a depressing prospect.

"What would they do?" That was a sleepy Crabbe, but he was curious enough to ask the question.

"Some of them turned me colors," Severus said, as he scraped a nail down the back of the frog, making it squirm furiously. Then he brought his finger to his mouth, and licked the chocolate off. "Others were like weak pepper up potions. I liked that one."

"I'll bet they have some of them in the gardens here," Lucius offered with a brilliant smile. "If they do, will you show me?"

"If you'll show me around the gardens." The boy agreed easily to most things Lucius suggested, and he was heavily distracted by gouging a hole into the chocolate frog's side.

"Why are you torturing the frog?" It was curiosity more than anything else, and the blond leaned over, watching him. "It's only chocolate. It might be more fun if you had a real one."

"That's too messy," Severus informed him, "and this won't get me in trouble with anyone, will it? Because even if I get chocolate on the bedding, it's not anything bad."

That was sort of sweet, Lucius decided, if a tad misled. "No. That won't get anyone in any trouble, and since it's my bed, and my sheets, I don't see why you can't get chocolate on it."

"I do know cleaning spells..." It was only common sense that when one could draw blood with a spell that the cover-up had to be learned. Severus stopped gouging the frog, and simply snapped a foot off, and popped it into his mouth.

"Merlin, can't you send the little sadist off to bed?" Lestrange snapped, as he peered out of his bedding, one eye cracked open.

"Hmm, I'm not ready yet, Nordstrom," Lucius said almost teasingly. "Besides, Goyle's doing homework. Cast a silencing charm and stuff your head under a pillow or something."

"I think I'll do just that," Lestrange muttered, jerking his sheets up. A wand poked around beneath it for a moment, and then he settled down.

Severus had pressed the frog's foot to the roof of his mouth, so he was occupied licking the melting chocolate. The flavor was certainly something he was going to savor -- because he was well aware that if he had another bite, he'd be sick. "Do you want the rest of it? I don't think I can eat any more."

"You'll probably have a bellyache later," Goyle predicted. "Happens to me when I eat too much chocolate."

"I know a charm for that, if you like..." Lucius offered.

"Can you teach me it?" Severus leaned eagerly nearer, even as he shuffled the maimed frog nearer to Lucius in offering. It was nice to have someone offer to do something for him.

"Sure," Lucius replied, popping the remains of the mutilated thing into his mouth. "This is how you do it..."

---

It was just before curfew when Severus slipped back into the first year dorm. He had two unopened chocolate frogs with him -- and the card from the first -- and four new charms to practice. His stomach had entirely stopped threatening to upturn itself, and the stairs hadn't eaten him. The whole experience had been pleasant, more a highlight to the day then the pomp and ceremony of the sorting.

Severus Snape was now exhausted.

The dorm room itself was almost suspiciously quiet; only one candle remained lit, and it was set upon the table next to one of the bottom bunks, where all of his things remained near.

It was, to be quite frank, a little suspicious.

Why ever would they leave a candle burning for him? He set his chocolate frogs down, letting his wand slip carefully into his hand as he started to strip off to put on his pajamas. It was going to be slower going because one hand was occupied with the wand, but better safe than sorry for it.

A little whisper caught his attention, a bare slither of sound; he was accustomed to sneaking about near his suspicious Grandfather, though, and that made a boy very well aware of out-of-place noises. It was no particular surprise when one of the other boys launched out of the dark and slammed into him.

He just didn't expect to be knocked forwards. Severus went down quickly, thin frame unable to put up much of a struggle. His wand ended up pinned under his narrow chest, jabbing his skin as he struggled to get untangled from his trousers and half-off shirt. "Get off me! Get off me!"

"You little freak!" He was pretty sure that was Parkinson hissing in his ear. "Don't you ever knee me in the crotch again!" A fist slammed into the back of his head.

Stars burst faintly in his vision, pinpricks of reds, blues and greens, when his head jolted again the tiled floor. "Don't hit me!!"

"What are you going to do about it, mister 'I have a wand and a stupid blond friend!'?" Parkinson sneered, hitting him once more.

"I'll kill you!" Severus howled softly, struggling. It was pathetic to be pinned there to the floor, being battered around -- but that boy didn't know what he was doing. He'd regret it, when he slipped, or even let Severus up. "Get off me! Get off me!"

Hissed encouragements came out of the dark, the other boys in the room cheering Parkinson on even as a firm knock came upon the door. "This is your Head of House. If you are not in bed and properly dressed, you will shortly find yourself humiliated!"

"Help me! They're trying to kill me!" Severus cried out loudly, even as he kicked a foot to catch Parkinson in the groin again.

"Ohhh!" Parkinson yelped just as the door flew open, a woman standing there with what was plainly fury on her face.

"YOU WILL NOT BEHAVE LIKE THIS IN MY HOUSE!" she bellowed, and promptly cast a spell that set both of them reeling.

Severus didn't like that. His head was already spinning and throbbing from the pounding he'd taken, and to have that dropped on top of him intensified it. Parkinson staggered up, though, and Severus, tangled in his clothes still, stayed passively on the floor. It was better to act like he was even more badly off than he was, in that moment. "Professor..." he whimpered softly, making a hazy attempt to push himself up a little.

"That will be fifteen points off, gentlemen. Mr. Snape, are you in need of the infirmary?" Professor Hecate asked coolly, wand still leveled at the both of them. "And I believe I will wait for an explanation of this behavior come morning. Then, the responsible party will be serving detention with me."

Infirmary meant not having to sleep the night with the other boys, and stopping the ringing in his head. "Yes... I've a skull-ache," he murmured, rising to his knees, and making a sad attempt to straighten his trousers and pull his shirt on. His wand lay where it had fallen beneath him on the floor for the moment.

"Come along, then," the woman said with stern inflection. "I'll take you to see Madame Pomfrey."

That name sounded as formidable as the Head of House did. Still, a bed all to himself and silence promised to be pleasant. He stood up shakily, one hand pressing to the side of his head, before he stooped carefully to get his wand. "Yes, ma'am."

The woman waited for him, and lightly put a hand on his shoulder just once when the door was closed, moving it away again just as easily. "You'll be feeling very much better shortly, Mr. Snape. I feel sure Madame Pomfrey will want to keep you overnight. She often does."

"Can I stay with the second years?" he asked hesitantly, still holding his head just as tightly as he gripped his wand. He didn't want to go through that every night. At least, he wanted to stay there until he'd scared the other first years enough in class. Then he'd be all right.

"That would be most unusual, Mr. Snape. I did notice you speaking with Mr. Malfoy earlier, however... I suppose that you might ask him if you may, for I generally leave such decisions up to my students. You will find that I do not often strictly enforce curfew nor make unreasonable demands. However, in return, you must keep all things tidy and be at least marginally polite. Do you think you might manage that?"

"Yes, ma'am." He was going to take forever to get used to calling them 'professor' -- until then, there were default polite words to be used. He walked beside her carefully, mindful now of the scenery. The infirmary sounded like a good place to know the location of, from the doorstep of his dorm, to the front door of the place. He was oddly sure he'd have every step of the route memorized within weeks. It wasn't a pleasant thing to note. "Lucius showed me about the steps that chew. He's very nice."

That seemed to startle her, just a bit. "How remarkable. Well, hopefully you will continue to get on. Here we are. Poppy!" she called, pushing open the door to the infirmary.

"What's wrong so late, Josephine -- it's past curfew..." Any injuries past curfew tended to be the worst. A young-looking mediwitch slipped out from a back curtain, walking pointedly towards them. Looks were often deceiving, Severus reminded himself, edging a bit behind Professor Hecate's robes.

"Fighting amongst the first years, I'm afraid. I've got one with a bit of a battered skull, Severus Snape. Mr. Snape would likely benefit from your expertise," Hecate explained.

"And on the first day of school -- before classes even start. I never..." Madam Pomfrey shook her head, holding a hand out to Severus. "Come along. We'll put you into some pajamas, and then give you a potion for your head. Make sure there's nothing serious wrong."

He edged forwards, wand still firmly gripped in his right hand, and lightly touched her fingers with his thin palm, grasping. "All right."

"I will see you promptly in my office by seven, Mr. Snape," Professor Hecate informed him. "We will discuss this matter then."

"Yes, ma'am," Severus murmured, peering over his shoulder at her. Even if he did get in trouble for being battered around, he was sure that he'd be able to be on his best manners for the next few years.

"Well, then, Severus, come in and we'll do something about that head of yours," Madam Pomfrey told him, nodding to his Professor, who left the Infirmary with a wave of her hand. "Show me where it hurts."

Severus didn't hesitate to touch the growing bruise on his forehead, or the welt left by fists at the base of his skull. "There, and there."

"Ahhh, yes. Yes. We'll have that all taken care of by morning. Now, you lay down here, and don't move until I get back," she told him, and bustled off to somewhere or other.

He glanced at the bed, with its crisp frame of white-painted steel, and perched on the edge of it for a moment. His head was still throbbing, and he didn't quite feel like he had all of his bearings yet. Not so bad, for a first night -- he just hoped Professor Hecate wouldn't send a note along to his grandfather about it. Too many people knowing would be embarrassing, and he wanted to avoid that.

By the time Madam Pomfrey came back, he'd pulled his vest up over his head to set it beside him, and was staring at his wand, held in both hands now. Thin legs kicked idly, the toes of his shoes scraping the infirmary's tiled floor. It was something he'd always done to occupy himself, repeating spells to himself without enough effort to cast them. Only, they were spells he was unaware were most horrifying for an adult to hear leaving his small mouth.

"Goodness gracious, Mr. Snape!" the woman gaped, looking at him as if he'd quite lost his mind. "Don't you dare cast so much as a single one of those! You hadn't ought to even know them!" How could something so very tiny and vaguely adorable possibly know something like that!?

He looked up at her with sleepy eyes, though his eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "Why hadn't I ought to know them? I read them. If they're in books, they ought to be known..." And tested, often on the house mice. Those were fun to make walk backwards, and climb up walls backwards, and do everything backwards, and when he was done, he'd feed the mice to his owl, and his grandfather was never the wiser of it.

"Not everything in books is good," she told him seriously. "Just because it's in a book doesn't make it right or proper for such a young man to know. Books have no sense of morals or justice. One cannot always trust them," Pomfrey explained.

"I've not had a book try to crack my head open, yet," Severus pointed out, still looking up at her. There wasn't a thing wrong with what he was learning and wanted to learn more of -- so obviously there was something wrong with her. "And I can do everything I've read. Everything. It's nice."

"Listen, Severus, that's not what I'm saying," Madame Pomfrey said gently. "There are moral questions of whether one should do something or not that perhaps you just don't grasp yet. Do keep that in mind, won't you?"

He was still looking at her as if she were speaking some foreign tongue to him. "Grandfather says that if you've read it, it's meant to be done..."

That, she decided, certainly said quite a lot about the reasons why the Snape family had gone bad. /Dear God, someone trusted that old man to raise a child and look at what's happened!/ "Dear, your grandfather might not always be right," she said, prodding him into swallowing a potion for pain and healing his bruises with her wand.

"Indeed, young Severus. Even old people are not infallible." And the man in the doorway was certainly old enough, with a gray beard and half-moon glasses and twinkling eyes.

"How do you know my name?" He held still as Madam Pomfrey cast a spell to rid him of the bruise at the back of his head, except for thin fingers lifting to push a wisp of too-long hair from his face. "I've never said Grandfather is infallible."

"I know a great many things, Severus. My name is Professor Dumbledore, current head of Gryffindor House. I'll be teaching you Transfigurations; at least until next year, then you'll get a new teacher," the old man said, sitting down beside him. "Though you are, perhaps, right. Infallible is too strong a word, isn't it? Madame Pomfrey is also correct, however; not all learning should be put to use. A little bit of knowledge can be a very dangerous thing."

That was an entirely new concept to wrap his mind around, and Severus was sure he wouldn't be able to take it to heart without a great deal of effort. "How's that?" He glanced up at the old man, at those strange glasses, and his open expression. It was the same pointed way, almost rude in its intensity, that he'd looked at Lucius earlier. Sudden trust, not the wary sort he'd granted Madam Pomfrey and the Head of his House, was almost palpable. He decided things, as always, on the spur of the moment and without dickering.

"Oh, well. Imagine that you know how to, say, make flowers grow in the middle of the Infirmary. While I quite like flowers, they also make me sneeze, and if I were to come to the Infirmary seeking help with my sneezing, then your flowers would only make them worse; especially if you didn't know how to get rid of them, say. Just because you can grow the flowers doesn't mean that you should," Dumledore said quite simply.

"Oh." It made a great deal of sense, but still... things could be tampered and toyed with, couldn't they? He did that all the time not to get in trouble with his grandfather. Carefully, he fitted his wand into his palm, and pointed it at his other hand, expression screwing up for a moment in concentration. "Orchideous." Dull purple flowers burst from the tip, and fell into Severus's waiting hand. He offered them up to Dumbledore, before adding, "They haven't any pollen. That's what makes you sneeze."

Unable to help himself, the old man laughed. "Well, well. It is indeed. Thank you, Severus. That is much appreciated."

"I have a few manners," Severus half-suggested, glancing to Madam Pomfrey. He still thought she was a little mad -- all she had to do was say it the way that Dumbledore had, instead of nattering on about books not being trustworthy. "I learn the undoing spell first, always."

"That is most wise of you," Dumbledore told him, nodding seriously. "Did you know that there are some spells for which there is no 'undoing'?"

"Cruciatus. The killing curse..." It was all that rose to his mind immediately, so he let his voice trail off, and waited expectantly for Dumbledore to tell him what he'd missed.

"And Imperius, as well. You're a very bright young man, Severus. You will undoubtedly be a delight to teach," the old professor said, gently laying a hand upon his shoulder. "Now, lay down. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will have my head if I continue to keep you awake, as you have a very busy day ahead of you tomorrow."

"I've your class tomorrow?" He shifted a little, to stretch out fully clothed atop the reasonably comfortable mattress. It was a bit sad that his schedule was with his things, and that he hadn't had a chance to look at it yet because his new roommates were intent on antagonizing him.

"Indeed, you do, and..." Blue eyes twinkled wildly. "Perhaps if you ask Mr. Malfoy quite nicely, he'll be willing to have a fifth bed added to the second year dormitories for you. He's rather dictatorial with the rest of the Slytherin House, but the two of you seem to have had quite a nice conversation tonight during dinner."

Severus nodded to that. It had been a nice conversation, and the other boy seemed... different from the rest of them. "The other first years don't like me," he told Dumbledore as he closed his eyes. "That's all right. I don't think much of them, either. I should've stayed with Lucius -- he offered, for tonight..." There was safety there with the blond boy, when he couldn't provide it for himself. "I should've given Parkinson a beak."

"Well, there's always tomorrow."

Severus listened to Dumbledore leave, then glanced over to Madam Pomfrey. black eyes remained open for only a moment. "Can you wake me up very early?" It might take him far past an hour to lip down to the dorms again, wash, get his books, then visit the Head of his House at Seven promptly.

"Six thirty and not a moment sooner. I'll walk you down to your dorms, never fear," she promised, and gave him another potion, this one for sleeping.

He wanted to protest that, but there was no chance before he was sucked down into sleep.

---

Madam Pomfrey had woken him up just slightly before six thirty, and let him bathe in the infirmary. Then she walked him down to dorms, and lingered as he gathered his books for the day, his schedule, and stuffed them all into his shoulder sack. Someone had eaten one of the chocolate frogs Lucius had given him, but he pocketed the other to eat later that day.

Then he followed Madam Pomfrey's directions to the letter to get to the office of Professor Hecate. It was two minutes before seven when he knocked.

"Enter." The word seemed sort of cold, and he couldn't help but shiver just a tad as he walked through the door. "Good morning, Mister Snape. I see that you seem to have passed the evening well enough. Come in."

Silently, he closed the door behind him. It was a crisp office, as crisp as her voice had been. The stone walls seemed almost too clean, until they looked as neat as brick. No papers on her desk, and there was a heavy bookcase behind her. Severus took all of that in, and filed it away in his mind, as he stood in front of her desk. "Yes, ma'am."

"Now. Tell me, most precisely, what happened last evening. Keep in mind that I will be comparing your tale to others, Mr. Snape, and that I do not approve of falsehood in any shape or form," the professor told him sternly.

"From when I came back from the second year dorm, ma'am, or from when we first arrived there. Because it started then." He didn't plan on lying to her -- the truth could sometimes be uncomfortable, but he didn't feel guilt over anything, or any shame at all.

"From the beginning, then," the woman told him, and nodded firmly.

"When we got to the dorms, Parkinson and Bulstrode introduced themselves. I shook, I think it was Parkison's hand, and introduced myself. Then Parkinson said I was an orphan, which just isn't true, because I live with Grandfather. Then I asked him who he thought he was to say that to me. Bulstrode said something that distracted him, so I sat down on my bunk to read. They teased me on that, too, and on my talking to Lucius at the feast. I told Parkinson that he wished he had better conversation ability than an owl. That got him very up, and he asked me what I said. So, I repeated it. Then he tackled me, and I was going to get him off of me with my wand, but Lucius stopped them. I got out from under Parkinson, and I think I kneed him in the groin." Severus paused there, and looked at her a bit ruefully. "I've very long legs. Sometimes I trip. I'm not always sure where they are." Which was entirely a truth, because he was just starting to hit a growth-spurt that his grandfather said would make him very tall.

"I see. And I assume that Mr. Malfoy then took you out of the dorms, as you were still dressed when I arrived?"

"Yes. We went down the munching stairs -- because they don't really eat you, do they? I don't think they do -- and I met the other second year boys. He gave me a chocolate frog that we ate, and we talked. Lestrange complained that I was there, but Crabbe and... Goyle, I think it was, didn't mind me. I got a bit sick to my stomach, so Lucius taught me a charm that would fix that, and then he led me halfway back to the first year dorm. I had two chocolate frogs that he gave me in my hand. When I opened the door, it was very quiet in there, and the only candle lit was the one on my bedside. It was very suspicious, so I set my frogs down on the table there, and got my wand out of my sleeve as I started to undress. Parkinson tackled me before I could get anything more than my outer robe off. He started to punch me in the back of the head, and called me a little freak. I dropped my wand then, when he tackled me, and I couldn't get it because he had a knee in my back. Then you came up."

"Well," the professor said, "that actually coincides quite well with what Mr. Malfoy has told me. We will see what Mr. Parkinson has to say. For now, I suggest you go to breakfast, Mr. Snape. Straight down this hall, up a flight of stairs, to the left, and up another flight of stairs. I will see you in fourth period. That is all."


"Could you..." He paused a moment to pull the other chocolate frog out of his pocket, and set it on her desk. "They ate the other one. I'm worried this one might've had something done to it." Something muggle-ish, because he hadn't picked up any magical tampering. She, being an adult, was better equipped to see that sort of thing.


"I see..." For a second, he wasn't quite sure what she was going to do, but she opened the right-hand drawer of her desk and pulled out another box identical to his own, lightly placing it in his hand. The woman's dark eyes were without a doubt shining as she gave him a tiny, secretive little smirk. "Well, why don't you eat this one in front of them, instead, Severus."

His own eyes, so black that they seemed to lack pupils, lit up for a moment. That secretive smile was returned, and he closed thin fingers around the box. "I'll do that. Thank you. Oh--" He realized he was probably taking too much time, but things just kept leaping to his mind. He made himself walk halfway to the door, though. She didn't seem so frightening now. Cold within reason. "Professor... Dumbledore, I think, with the moon glasses? He said that I should... ask Lucius if I could stay in the second year dorms, But since you're the Head of House, and not him, I don't know..."

Obviously, their conversation from the night before had been forgotten; and no small wonder, as his head had been battered against a stone floor. "Speak with Mr. Malfoy. I don't tend to interfere in the business of my students, Mr. Snape. However, you may come to me if you have any further needs. That is all." A second dismissal, and this one was more firm than the first.

He wasn't going to dicker around past that. "Thank you, ma'am." And then he slipped out, down the narrow hallway. Parkinson was coming down the hall towards him, so he stopped, and pressed against the wall a little to let Parkinson pass. The other boy sneered at him, smirked at the sight of the chocolate frog in his palm, and then continued on towards Professor Hecate's office.

If Severus hadn't been sure before that it was tainted, he was entirely sure now. And he was going to eat the 'clean' one. Slowly. Professor Hecate, he decided as he followed her directions to the great hall, was a quick-minded woman.

By the time he made it to the Great Hall, breakfast was in session and voices could be heard from out of the doors, though they were mostly muffled and the sounds of eating were much more prevalent. Lucius and his roommates were all at table when Severus headed in that direction, and the blond waved him over languidly, tilting his head to look up at him as the brunette stopped beside him. "Good morning, Severus. Breakfast?"

"Yes, I think I will," Severus replied, still feeling smug, as he sat down beside Lucius again. The gold and blue box the chocolate frog was in was slipped back into his pocket with a gesture of almost triumph. "I don't believe I'm in trouble with Professor Hecate."

"She came by earlier, very interested in whatever had happened last night." Those grey eyes gleamed at him, Lucius's gaze narrowing slightly. "I told her everything that I could think of." That meant everything he had thought best for her to know; there were some small secrets even amongst what they had done the night before that he would not have wanted revealed.

"Parkinson tackled me when I came in the dorm. Hit my head around, and I spent the night in the infirmary. What's Professor Dumbledore's class like?" Unlike the day before, Severus felt more comfortable in the hall. It was emptier of the crush of students. and the mess of the night before left him feeling, oddly, as if he'd been initiated into something. His first fight ever. He'd only read about that in books, until then.

"Lots of silly turning things into other things," Lucius said, his nose wrinkling slightly. "He thinks he's very entertaining, at any rate."

"I dunno," Crabbe said across the way. "I kind of like it. I mean, it's kind of fun, isn't it? Maybe we'll learn how to turn people into things, then."

"Yeah," Goyle agreed. "Then we could get rid of all the Gryffindors. Turn 'em into pincushions or pastries or something."

"They're the ones in red, aren't they...?" Severus asked, peering over to the other side of the hall. He didn't pay very much attention to who'd sorted where -- only that on the train ride there, he'd bumped into an obnoxious boy with scruffy black hair and glasses. Who in their right mind wore glasses? There were correction spells, after all...

"And they all think they're better than everyone else," Lucius agreed with no small amount of exasperation. "Really. You'd think they'd all just accept that Slytherins are better than they are..." That statement was greeted with hoots of laughter. "But I suppose, when you're as intolerable as they often are, you do the best with what you're given. Muggle-loving lot."

"And we'll kick their muggle-loving asses during the Quidditch season!" a fourth year a bit down agreed. Severus didn't comment right away -- he only picked up his plate, shoveled himself a healthy portion of scrambled eggs, and started to eat.

"They bring themselves down, doing that, don't they? I mean, having muggle-borns on their team?"

"Yes, but they don't seem to see it that way. I'm afraid they see it as the big bad Slytherins cheating again," Lucius sneered. "It isn't cheating. It's just a willingness to sacrifice anything one must to win." His expression had become extraordinarily intense. "I will win in the face of all adversity, Severus. I refuse to lose. Keep that in mind, always."

"That's something very hard to forget." He swallowed another mouthful of scrambled eggs as he mulled that over, too. Parkinson should've been one of those Gryffindors, he decided. They seemed that way, superior about things which they didn't have a right to be. He'd guessed that much about Gryffindors from a few comments he'd heard that boy tossing back and forth with other boys.

"Don't worry, though," Crabbe said around a mouthful of porridge. "Lucius'll kick 'eir ashes 'gain 'is year." He swallowed. "He's our Quidditch Seeker. Shoulda been last year, but first years aren't allowed to have brooms. Stupid rule," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Anyway. We had more House points 'n they did."

"We're already down fifteen. Does that mean we've started in the red?" Severus took a careful sip of his juice. It didn't mix well with the taste of scrambled eggs.

"Not precisely," Lucius drawled. "And don't worry. I'll take care of Parkinson for getting that fifteen knocked off. I don't approve of some twit making the beginning of the year less than stellar."

Severus glanced over at Lucius then, and smiled so very slightly. "That's good. I still don't want to sleep there, because I've no liking of being smothered in my sleep, or spelled to death." He knew, after all, that he could do it to them if he put in the effort, so perhaps if they worked together... It was something to gnaw at his mind. "Professor Dumbledore said I should ask you about staying in the second year dorms."

"There's not enough room for another bed," Lestrange pointed out, lower lip looking slightly as if it was going to poke into a pout at any moment.

"No," Lucius drawled. "There isn't. However, I wouldn't be averse to sharing my own, as it's large enough, Severus. Bring your things later."

"You'll let me?" He'd hoped, but hoping and expecting were separate entities. "I hardly move, so I won't disturb you..."

"Don't worry, HE'S The disturbing one," Lestrange muttered. "Malfoys are all perverts."

"Stop while you're behind, Nordstrom." Lucius's voice was pure steel as he turned to look at the other boy. "Or I'll show you pervert."

"I'll skip out on that..." Lestrange darted a glance over to Severus. "You deserve to get along with him, Snape..."

"I think I'm lucky." Severus finished his eggs, and then decided to simply watch them.

Lucius's mouth curled up with amusement. "I'm sure you are. After all..." He paused, tilted his head to the side. "Well, you likely should have been here last year, anyway. You know more than some of the sixth years." Though not more than Lucius himself, of course. Malfoys were all trained in magical arts from the time they could walk.

"I know more than you think." It wasn't threatening at all, or even bragging. Just a proud little statement, from a boy who knew he knew a great deal. He shifted, sitting on one foot, and looked over at Lucius again, with that same curious gaze of the day before. "All sorts of potions things from Grandfather and lots of Dark Arts stuff, too."

"Well, we'll know by the end of the day just how much you know, won't we? If that's so, Professor Hecate will adore you," Lucius purred as Parkinson came in, also clutching a chocolate frog. "Hmmm."

The edges of Severus's mouth curled a little in cool delight of the same sort he'd had when he'd been mutilating the frog the night before. He stayed silent until Parkinson came near, to sit down. "Did you have a nice talk?"

"Yeah, and you're going to get it, Snape," the other boy said, poking out his tongue.

"I most sincerely doubt that, Parkinson," Malfoy said from across the way. "And I will be taking those fifteen points out of your hide."

"Touch me again, Parkinson, and I'll give you a beak to go with your intelligence." Severus only spared Parkinson a glance. Then he shifted to pull his satchel into his lap, digging for his schedule. The first class of the day was... Double Charms. He glanced at that again, to make sure it was right, then folded the sheet away. How dull, and it was almost time for class.

"Do eat up, Parkinson," Lucius said almost sweetly. "It's time for... what is it that first years have now? Oh, yes. Charms. You've nearly missed breakfast."

"Professor Hecate gave me this, to make up for you shoving your bony legs where they don't belong," Parkinson sneered at him, opening the chocolate frog's box.

Severus schooled a smile from his lips, and cast only glances from the corners of his eyes.

"How remarkable, Parkinson. You'd best eat it before it jumps away on you," Lucius drawled.

"I will." Parkinson smiled defiantly, then tossed it back into his mouth, and bit.

Severus was glad that he was a few plates down, because right away, Parkinson spit it back up, and chased it with heaving, retching noises.

"Perhaps next time, you'll think twice about stealing other people's chocolate and doing terrible things to it?" came the absolutely saccharine suggestion from Lucius's lips. The sound of retching answered all on its own, and the blond laughed. "Well, we'd all better get to class. We have Dark Arts..." Crabbe and Goyle grumbled. "...and you know how Hecate gets pissed off when we're late."

"The Charms classroom is... which way?" Severus asked, standing with them when they stood.

"Up four flights and on the right in the fourth corridor," Goyle replied. "I think."

Grey eyes rolled. "Come on, just follow us. The DADA classroom is down the third corridor."

"Things would be easier to find here if the stairs didn't move," Severus sighed, pacing beside them easily on the way out. "Is there a why to the stairs moving, or do they just do it?"

"They're just fond of it. If you like, I'll allow you to borrow my copy of 'Hogwarts: A History', and you can see how they were enchanted, if you like," Lucius offered.

Life seemed oddly good, with that very simple offer. Severus nodded to it, mentally filing away the many things that had made his being sent to Hogwarts less of a horrifying thing than he'd suspected it would be. There were still an awful lot of people, but that had to be overcome as it was. Lucius was nice. If there was just one person nice to him that way -- two, counting Professor Dumbledore -- his life felt most complete. "I'd like that."

"Come on. Let's go to class," Lucius said, and they all headed up the stairs.

---

Severus's first class, as it turned out, was shared with the Gryffindors. The room was already partially full of members from both Houses, and the difference was clear to be seen by all from the start. The Slytherins were all much quieter than the Gryffindors, it seemed, for the lot of them were making enough racket to wake the dead, or at least conceivably a few ghosts. The boy with glasses was tossing some sort of folded parchment back and forth with another black-haired boy near the back of the room, and even when it whacked another student, neither of them apologized.

Severus glared at them, and then scanned the front row of seats. Full already. Taken, no doubt, by people who just wanted to look smarter. Sitting in the front of class would sadly not make up for deep, unshakable stupidity. Severus slipped quietly into a third-row seat, and turned around to watch the Gryffindors for a moment.

It gained him the smack of that little triangular-folded piece of parchment right between his eyes.

"Oh! Hey, sorry, give that back, please?" the black-haired boy said, reaching out for it.

He'd caught it in his hand though, and was looking at it in his palm. Folded up just enough to act as if it were a ball of some sort. Makeshift games that the black-haired boy would probably carry on all class. Severus didn't want to be distracted or smacked with it again, he was sure of it. His hand closed into a small, tight fist, crunching it. "Sorry, no."

"Why you little... Little TWERP!" the boy said, face flushing slightly with anger, arms akimbo.

"Hey, let it go, Sirius. I'll just make us another one," the boy with glasses said, looking at Severus coolly. "It's not like he's going to stop us."

"I won't -- if I'm not hit with it again," Severus agreed, resting an elbow on the back of his chair, as he continued to look back at them. "What're your names?"

"I'm Sirius, and he's James. You're a Slytherin, aren't you?" the black-haired boy asked, tilting his head to the side.

Severus glanced at his robes for a moment, double checking that the Slytherin crest was still on them. It had appeared magically over night, but it was there with a clear purpose, just as the odd green hue his clothes had. "I hope I am," he drawled, looking back up at them both.

"I heard Slytherins were all slimy liars and that you lived in dungeons full of mold," the boy with glasses said. "Is it true?"

"No. I'm very honest, and the dorms are cleaner than this classroom." He gave it a slightly disdainful glance, then went on, "I heard Gryffindors were grass stupid, and that your tower has bars on the windows so you don't fall out. Is it true?"

"Why you little...!"

The boy with the glasses grinned at him. "That was pretty good. Not that we believe you, of course, because that would be a lie you just told, as all Slytherins are liars." It was said with great amusement, though. "What's your name?"

"Severus Snape. I'd spell it, but I'm not sure you dumb Gryffindors would know what to do with all of those letters." He seemed impossible to rile, tossing back banter as quick as they tossed it to him. It was... almost fun. Was that what sport was?

"What kind of name is Severus??" Sirius asked, nose wrinkling. "Man, and I thought my parents saddled me with a nasty one..."

"It could always have been worse," James pointed out with a shrug. "It could have been... I don't know... Maledictus or something."

"It's a family name." He'd been named after his great-grandfather, just like that man's great-grandfather before him. A bit of a twisted tradition, but he was very comfortable with his name. It sounded... sibilant to his own ears. "Sirius. Isn't that the dog-star?"

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "But at least it's not Severus. Or Maledictus," he admitted even as a short, white-haired man climbed atop a pile of books at the front of class.

"Woof, woof." Severus's odd, final words to Sirius and James as he turned back around in his seat, and put some of his books on his desk. It was a pity that they'd be doing elementary things. That stomachache fixing charm had been good, though, and it was relatively simple. So perhaps he'd stumble across a few new things during the term...

He'd just have to wait and see.

---

Summer had been brilliant, with tons of nothing to do except read and eat and occasionally sleep.

Severus was very glad that it was over.

Of course, he was a little uncertain about the companions who'd joined him in his cabin on the Hogwarts Express. One fellow seemed as if he was falling asleep and he had strange, golden eyes that made him just a bit nervous. The other looked something like a rat.

They were both Gryffindors.

Second years, he guessed, because they were already wearing their robes and didn't look so lost as the first years. But he himself felt a little lost -- he'd seen neither hide nor hair of Lucius, or his two defenders. Severus mused to himself that this year he'd probably go back to sleeping in the dorm with the others of his year. They were no small amount scared of him... But it still depended entirely on Lucius. He'd lost a week of sleep the first week of summer because of a change in sleeping habits, from waking up beside nothing at all. So part of him yearned for independence, and the other part wanted to stay with the now third years that he considered friends. Lucius's bed was soft and comfortable; many an hour had been wasted there talking, scribbling homework, and torturing animals -- both candy and real.

"You're a quiet one, aren't you?" That was the mousey one, a shortish boy with a bad haircut sitting beside the gold-eyed one. Severus glanced up from his text of Forbidden Spells throughout the Ages.

"Perhaps."

"I'm Remus Lupin," the other boy said, holding out his hand politely. "It's nice to meet you."

Overly polite, nearly rehearsedly so, Severus noted as he leaned forwards almost absently, and took the offered fingers. They were warm and supple, as he shook them, compared to those on his own thin hand. "Severus Snape. And I'm not sure if it is nice to meet you or not."

Remus blinked almost audibly, and the rat-like boy beside him snorted. "You're polite," he said sarcastically. "I'm sure it isn't a pleasure to meet you."


"I've never strained to make it so," Severus murmured, as he drew his hand back. Both hands settled neatly atop the book on his lap, and he head tipped down a little as he looked at them both. "You're Potter's friends, aren't you?"

"Ah, yes," Remus said solemnly. "We're friends of James's, I think he and Sirius are about somewhere..."

Severus had been unable to find Lucius and the others, but that was because he'd already almost missed the train. There had been muggles standing right in front of the entrance to the platform, and he certainly wasn't going to try it without a good running start. Remus and the rat-boy must've been late, too, to have ended up sitting with a Slytherin.

"You must've been in charms, too," Severus observed. The last day of the spring semester he remembered very well, and hopefully so would Parkinson, who he'd shrunk down and shoved in his pocket for an hour. It had been much to the delight of the class and Professor Flitwick.

"Yes. I sat near the front," Remus answered a little shyly as Peter stood up, frowning, his face twisted unpleasantly.

"I'm going to find James and Sirius," he declared, tromping towards the door.


"Don't bring them back here." Severus's warning tone was a firm one, as he shifted the ancient text languidly to set it in the seat in front of him. Then he leaned forwards a little more, looking at the gold-eyed boy. "You don't seem like them. You haven't thrown anything. Or started name-calling."

"Well, no. Why should I?" Remus asked him, tilting his head to the side. "You haven't tossed anything at me, after all."

"I don't do things like that. That's Potter and Black's styles..." His voice dipped distastefully, a show of equal distaste for the other two boys. "You've very quiet in class. I didn't notice you." Not more than enough to know he was a Gryffindor, one of them. Past that, he at least knew most people's names -- it helped him to know names, for whatever purpose.

"They're not so bad," Remus said quietly. "Really nice, actually, once you get to know them. You don't seem so bad, either, for a Slytherin."

"Does that mean I'd be horrible if I were a Hufflepuff?" Severus shifted his legs, a bit restless. Remus was something new to him, and he tended to be restless around newer things. A Gryffindor acting like a human being -- how odd. "I've always wondered why you Gryffindors think you're so special. Professor Dumbledore doesn't act like that."

"I don't guess you would be," Remus agreed. "But if you were a Hufflepuff, you wouldn't be Slytherinish, would you?" He wasn't entirely certain whether Slytherinish was a word or not, but it was the best he could come up with by way of description. "Professor Dumbledore is nice. I hear he's going to be Headmaster this year and we're going to have a new Transfiguration teacher."

"That means you've lost the Head of your House, haven't you?" He'd known for certain, at the end of the last semester, that Dumbledore was going to be the headmaster. It would have bothered him to think of the strange old man as leaving the school entirely. Despite being the Head of Gryffindor, he was nice to Severus in the same ways that Lucius was. Two friends out of an entire school of people, and having those two people delighted him. No sense of loss or lacking because he wasn't one of those popular boys. Severus was pleased with the way things were.

"Mmm," Remus agreed. "They say that the new Head will be a woman. McGonagall, I think her name is, or something like. I hope she'll be nice."

"I'd hope the same, were I a Gryffindor." And as a Slytherin, he hoped she'd be stricter and take more points from the Gryffindors -- like Professor Hecate was always willing to do. "I'm just a Slytherin, though." He glanced to his book again, half-wanting to pick it up again, and half-wanting to talk more. Something niggled at the back of his mind, tugging there. "Are students in your dorm allowed to go where they wish within the house area?"

"How do you mean?" the other boy asked, hair tumbling into his eyes. "You mean like, into the girls' dorms or something? No, we don't do that, just the common room and our dorm rooms, really..."

"Really? How strange. Why aren't you allowed? Slytherins have free reign of the house area, as long as everyone behaves..." It simply struck him as odd -- to think that in another house, he would've had to have stayed with the other first years.

"Really??" That seemed to intrigue Remus for a moment. "Well, I like everyone in my dorm, so I guess I don't mind. But why would Slytherins be allowed and no one else be, I wonder?"

"I've no idea." He shifted a little, to lean back in his seat. Absently, he tucked one long leg under himself. "I sleep in the third year dorm. Professors Dumbledore and Hecate said I could -- that's why I thought you Gryffindors had free reign."

Remus only shrugged, though, and continued to look at him. "Maybe you're a special case. Sometimes, they have people they do things for, I think. Depends."

"Oh." Now he looked less curious, and more displeased with himself for sounding stupid. "Well, they'd ought to tell the special cases that they are that."

"Maybe all Slytherins are special cases," Remus said, catching on that Severus wasn't entirely happy. "I wouldn't know, after all. I'm a Gryffindor."

The other boy just frowned, though not particularly at Remus. What was he doing, talking to the gold-eyed boy, anyway? "Your friend's been gone for a bit. You'd better look for him."

"Peter? Oh, he'll do just fine on his own," Remus replied, shrugging. "I'm comfortable here."

The lady with the trolley came by outside just then, pausing to peer in at them. "Boys? Chocolate Frog? Every Flavor Beans?"

Severus was quick to rise and nod to her. "Three chocolate frogs, ma'am." One for then, one for whenever, and one for him to show a Lucius a spell he'd picked up over the holiday. He shoved his hand into a pocket of his robes, and pulled out the right amount of silver.

"Do you have just a bar of chocolate?" Remus asked politely, pulling out his own little pouch of money.

"Of course, dearie, the best from Honeydukes, right here. That'll be a sickle for the three frogs and fifteen knuts for the chocolate bar, sweet."

Fifteen knuts wasn't very much, so Severus dropped the total amount in her hand before Remus could even fumble open the strings of his bag. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Thanks," Remus said, smiling at him. "You shouldn't have done that, but it was very nice of you. I like chocolate a lot. You?"

Severus handed him the bar once the woman had given him his extra knuts back, and gestured with his other hand. Thin fingers strained to properly hold the three chocolate frogs. "Grandfather never lets me have sweets. I've gone without all holiday, and that's far too long." Two boxes were set atop his book, the third he opened as soon as he was seated again. "Lucius shares his with me, but that's still not the same as buying your own."

"You like it better when you can take care of yourself," Remus said, nodding approval as he, too, settled down. "Me, too, I think..."

"Hey, Moony!"

That voice brought both boys' attention to the door, now open again. "What are you doing here with him?" Sirius asked, sneering at Severus.

Severus's fingers, which had been carefully lifting the chocolate frog from its box, tightened. It was a twitch of motion in lean muscles, but one back leg snapped cleanly off the frog. Then the spark of distaste and anger at being disturbed mellowed. His fingers fell under his control again, and they popped the leg half into his mouth, so the foot and lower half dangled from his mouth while he sucked the top. "Sitting here, I believe."

"Ew..." That was James, his gaze vaguely horrified. "Snape, that's just disgusting, you silly twat!"

"That's worse than disgusting," Sirius agreed, and Remus shrugged at them, or perhaps it was at Severus.

"It's only chocolate," the golden-eyed boy told them.

"It's good that one of you knows the difference between a chocolate frog and a real one." Severus was letting it melt slowly in his mouth as he talked. The melting bit of frog-shaped chocolate was garnering more attention than they were, as was obvious from the way his eyes didn't focus on any particular one of them.

"My, my. What a lovely little gathering of Gryffinbrats. Severus, have you started collecting the lot of them?" came a drawl from out in the hallway.

"They've wandered into my cabin," Severus confessed. His attention, waning as it had been, snapped to the doorway. Lucius. A summer had been too long, despite the odd letters passed between them. His Grandfather hadn't been at all pleased to see Lucius's owl, and had made Severus stop writing back in attempts to discourage Lucius from writing at all. "Shall I make them go?"

"No, but why don't you come along? Crabbe, Goyle, get the brats out of the way, won't you?"

"Hey!!" Sirius yelped as one of the bigger boys shoved him forward. "You asshole!"

It took Severus only a moment to gather the few things he had with him -- candy and books -- and stand to press past the Gryffindors. He did spare a pointed inclination of his head to Remus, and a faint smile that was obscured mostly by the curtain of his hair that slipped out from behind one ear. Remus seemed all right, for a Gryffindor -- at least he had brains about him.

"I'm glad you found me, Lucius," he was commenting even before he was out in the hallway.

"Well, you seemed quite lost, surrounded by those hoodlums. Really, Severus. One should be more careful, they're a lot of little Mudbloods and muggle lovers," the blond sniffed, turning to head back down the hall.

"There were only two of them when the train started," he sighed. "Then they just seemed to crawl out of the wood..."

"Better that than from under a ROCK!" Sirius called down after them.

"Don't mock your betters, boy," Lucius said evenly, glancing back. "Goyle, Crabbe, please tend to the matter." That taken care of, he swept on, moving two cars up before slipping into a cabin with Severus just behind him. "Nasty, that Black."

"He and Potter are foul-ups -- I told you how charms class was." Severus closed the door, then sat down beside Lucius in the cabin. "How was your holiday?"

"Long and boring, particularly after you started ignoring my owls." Pale pink lips poked out into a sulk, grey eyes sparking resentment at him. "I'll assume that was your grandfather and not you. The benefit of the doubt, Severus."

No guilt reflected back to Lucius in steady black eyes as Severus met that grey gaze. "He wouldn't let me reply. He wouldn't even let me see them after a while -- tossed them into the fireplace. Even my recovery spells couldn't make handwriting out of them."

"I'll accept that." Mostly because he knew it to be true; he'd flown after his owl one night to see what was happening, and witnessed it himself, but contrition was an excellent tool to use against someone, if it was applicable. Unfortunately, Severus was so incredibly lacking in morality that guilt was unlikely to work well for him.

It had been worth a shot.

"That being said, are you going to try out for Quidditch? There's an opening on the team this fall," Lucius continued smoothly.

"I do enjoy watching the game, Lucius, but..." He pulled the rest of that chocolate frog leg into his mouth and chewed it before snapping off another limb to offer to Lucius.

"But?" Lucius asked, accepting the jerking little leg and popping it into his mouth to bite viciously.

"Someone would aim a bludger at my head, and then I'd be done in. Madam Pomfrey would finish me off herself, because she already sees me far too often." Any excuse at all, even if he had to use an authority figure as best he could.

"Severus, I've seen you fly and you do it quite well. We need a chaser. That's what beaters are for, you know -- to keep the bludgers off of you," Lucius informed him firmly. "You can fly rings around those Gryffindor Mudbloods."

Chaser. Chasers caught the quaffle, and scored goals. They didn't have to find the snitch, or deal with those painful, heavy and murderous balls. Which meant he could put everything but the relatively easy task of catch quaffle from his mind. And he wasn't as bad off physically as he'd been his first year. He was still small, despite the bits of height he garnered monthly. Thin, but... Hogwarts made him go outside, and in the gardens he could run and hunt for herbs. He hadn't had that chance before, and he hadn't let his grandfather take that from him entirely over the summer. "I'll try out. But you know very well that doesn't mean I'll be chosen."

The expression on Lucius's face was triumphant, however, as if he knew something that Severus didn't. "Well, we'll just see about that, won't we?" he said with a little smirk, and he seemed quite pleased with himself. "Coming in with us again this year?"

So the offer still stood. Severus didn't bother to hide his pleasure at that, as he carefully twisted the head off the chocolate frog's body. The feel of chocolate warmed from touch smearing over his fingers was a pleasant one. He popped its head into his mouth, and chewed, absently looking at his dirtied hand. "Yes, I'd like to."

"Wonderful. Mother's sent the loveliest white satin sheets this year," Lucius almost purred. "You'll adore them." There was just something about sharing them with Severus that absolutely made him shiver with the thought of it.

"Your bed is always very comfortable. I'm sure that I shall." For a moment, he let his tongue linger over the roof of his mouth, tasting, savoring that chocolate. It was heavenly, in the way that he'd read it described in muggle books he'd read. Chocolate to eat after sad months without, and Lucius to talk to again. And his bed to sleep in. The older boy had to know how pleased he was to be able to share a bed with him.

"You have chocolate on you, Sev," Lucius whispered, leaning forward. His thumb brushed lightly at the indention between nose and mouth, tenderly removing the faint traces of sweet that lay there.

It probably thrilled Lucius, Severus knew, to have the smaller boy startle at that touch, even ever so slightly. It wasn't the sort of 'don't touch me' startle that Severus gave every so often when someone brushed him in passing, or when he jerked himself back from bodily contact. It was just a pleasant thing he hadn't been expecting. "Oh. I should like to be neat when we get there -- thank you." And to further his point, he decided to lick the chocolate from Lucius's fingers.

That action made the blond boy smiled, and he pulled back just as Crabbe and Goyle pushed open the door to their compartment and slipped inside. "Took care of 'em," Goyle said, shrugging. "None of 'em seemed to think to use spells, they kept trying to fight back. Suited us fine. Too stupid to realize they couldn't win that way, I reckon." Coming from Goyle, that said quite a lot.

"Thank you, Gristian," Lucius said warmly. "Pyrrhus."

Yes, this was how Severus liked his life to be. He offered the rest of the headless, twitching chocolate frog to his companions, while he thumbed to a page in the text he'd been reading. "Have you seen this numbing curse, Lucius...?"

"The one with the ice properties?" the blond Slytherin asked, shifting to sit beside him so that the bench across from them would be free for the other two. "Show me."

Severus shifted nearer, book on his lap, so that his knees touched the other boy's. Then he proceeded to demonstrate it on his own hand, and had removed it a few times with a warming spell by the end of their ride.

---

"Oh," Parkinson said flatly as the Sorting began. "YOU'RE back again."

Bulstrode rolled his eyes. He, at least, had learned that it was a very bad idea to piss off Severus, and a worse one to piss off Lucius. If not more brains, Bulstrode at least had more common sense than Parkinson.

"There's no reason I wouldn't be back," Severus told him, shifting his body a little to make it easier to focus his attention on Parkinson.

"We could hope," Parkinson grumbled, and Avery grunted an answer beside him.

"Someone shorted you of brains," Severus decided crisply. "You haven't been snorting potion fumes, have you? Oh, and don't even think of attacking me like you started last term off. There won't even be a chance."

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

"'cause Crabbe and Goyle are six feet away," Avery muttered under his breath.

"I'm not even going to make an attempt to stay in the second year dorms this year -- I'm going to get my things and move again." The house-elves had a habit of sorting everyone's things into the proper places, which was annoying to Severus, because he didn't plan on staying in his 'proper' place.

"I had no expectations otherwise," Lucius informed him from further down the table. "Shift over," he told Crabbe, who promptly began pushing others down a seat and down a seat until there was space for Severus between the two of them. They'd parted into years for the Sorting, but Lucius was already sick of the lack of conversation.

Severus turned his head a little, and cracked a small smile for Lucius. Then he glanced back to Parkinson, idly. "Do you want to be shrunk again?"

The other boy's eyes flew wide. "You little prick! Malfoy can't protect you forever!"

"I can protect myself, Parkinson." Severus made a vague gesture with his wand, that made Parkinson's body tense. "You know that. How stupid can you be to keep bothering me?"

Gristian grinned at that. "Pretty stupid, I'd say," he snickered, and coming from Goyle it was twice the insult as if Lucius or Severus had said it. The black-haired boy just nodded, smiling a little to himself.

"You see? Everyone but you has seemed to realize it, Parkinson. It doesn't benefit us for you to go after me -- go after other houses instead. It's not smart to in-fight."

"Parkinsons have never been known for their brains," Lucius replied with a sneaky little smirk. "More for their resemblance to Pekinese."

With the flattish, upturned nose that Parkinson had, and his in-drawn chin, it was a perfect comparison. Severus smirked a little to himself -- he'd been about to say something, but there was a familiar sort of throat-clearing from the front of the room.

Dumbledore -- still there, in his usual eccentric robes. Only he was the headmaster now. Severus hoped fervently that the odd man didn't turn funnier than he already was.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts." That was met with an explosion of applause from the Gryffindor table that made most of the Slytherins roll their eyes even as Dumbledore went on.

"Dorks," Crabbe snickered, offering Severus a piece of candy under the table. He had learned that the black-haired boy could be bribed with candy for help with homework, and that was quite a wonderful thing, indeed.

It wasn't really bribery, since Severus was well aware of the trade going on. He liked it -- and usually, he could get Crabbe to pay attention over his shoulder. So the older boy learned a bit, too. It was probably the only way he would, Severus had realized rather quickly. The piece of candy was taken gracefully, though Severus didn't fiddle with the paper wrapper yet. He was still watching the new headmaster.

"Just a few words before the feast begins. Blubber! Nitwit! Toad! Rutabaga!" The food popped onto the table, and he waved a hand dismissively. "Carry on!"

"He's an odd, odd man," Lucius said sternly, and there was no doubt that he didn't like him. He'd never been particularly fond of the man before, of course; he was a Gryffindor, after all. The damning thing of it was, though, that he was very fond of Severus, and Lucius was most covetous of his friend. It drove him to fits of jealousy, and he hated it.

"I wouldn't think to argue that," Severus said. Dumbledore was an odd man who helped Severus in the classes that irked him -- occasionally History of Magic. Binns was depressingly boring, and Severus's mind tended to blank when he was bored, or he started to go through more interesting things in his thoughts. "He does let me browse the restricted section." Conditionally -- once a week, he had to show Dumbledore a bit of what he'd taught himself, in exchange for being allowed to continue browsing. He wondered if that offer would still stand, now that Dumbledore was a very busy headmaster.

"You could probably get half of those books sent from home, you know." Lucius's vague resentment showed, though it was certainly not resentment that Severus received privileges. It was, instead, jealousy that someone other than him granted them.

Severus shook his head as he popped into his mouth the hard candy that Crabbe had given him. "Grandfather would know what I was looking for. He doesn't want what happened to my parents to happen to me."

"That won't happen to you." Lucius's voice had gone hard. "I'll see to it that it doesn't."

"There isn't any reason for someone to do that to me," Severus reminded him, picking up a large cookie. He pressed it into Lucius's hand, hoping it would soothe down the sudden sharpness of his friend's demeanor.

It seemed that Malfoy was willing to accept that offer, for his expression softened slightly and he smiled with a strange intensity at Severus. "It's just a nasty thought. I knew your parents."

"Well... I've never really remembered them." He supposed he should miss them, and he had, those first nights... except it had faded entirely with time. Now Severus was only vaguely aware that he'd had parents; Grandfather had raised him, had been the most memorable family to him.

Lucius probably regretted pushing conversation that way, because Severus sank into thoughtful contemplation for the remainder of the feast. It was only when the dismissal came that he drifted out of it again, munching idly on a cupcake just as he had the year before. "I'm going to get my things..."

"I'll come with you," the blond offered, watching that flickering tongue with even more interest than he had the year before. It was... intriguing. Just as intriguing as the presence of a body beside him in his bed as his own hands had wandered, idly, under his pajamas.

It was impossible to tell if Severus had ever done that. Or if such thoughts, curious and impulsive, had even stolen across his brilliant mind. At night, Severus slept heavily, often curled towards the interior of the bed. He liked to watch Lucius when he woke up, if he woke up before the other boy; no shame ever entered those watching black eyes, no guilt. And no intent that was clear... just as there seemed to be no intent in Severus finishing his cupcake. "You'll have to carry my book-sack, then."

"Tch. Slavedriver." It was lightly mocking, but they both knew that Lucius would carry nothing for anyone else no matter who they were or what 'orders' they gave. "All right. I'll carry it for you, but you have to do something for me."

Then both stood up, but not before Severus picked up a handful of tiny splinter cookies. They weren't as sweet as cupcakes, but the almond flavor lingered like chocolate on his lips. "Do what, Lucius?"

"Oh, just a favor. Nothing too spectacular," Lucius said with a secretive look that as good as said that it wasn't something to be discussed in public.

Severus knew those looks well, and delighted in their implications. "All right. You've never asked a spectacular favor out of me, yet, so this can't be bad. Not any worse than having to help Crabbe with his potions final." Wordlessly, a cookie was offered. There was a clot of other Slytherins just ahead of him, but they turned and took a longer route that promised to grant them peace.

"I don't think it's that bad, no," Lucius returned, matching him step for step. "Much better than that, in fact. Sort of a treat for both of us, when you get right down to it..."

"So neither of us will end up in trouble?"

Lucius thought about it for a moment, gave him one of those smiles. "Not if we don't get caught, Severus."

Black eyes narrowed in thought, and one eyebrow lifted just a little. "I'm not going to put anything in Professor Binns's water."

"I didn't ask you to," was the almost innocent reply. There was no one near them, no one following, no footsteps in the hall. "All right, then, you want to know?"

Severus stopped in front of a suit of armor that was resting against the wall, and nodded his head. "Yes. That way I can decide if I should just carry all of my things myself. Two trips to the second year dorm, against one, and a trip to the headmaster..." Lucius looked mischievous, which told him far too little -- watching Lucius's face curl into an edgy smile was just a little worrisome, after all.

"Close your eyes, then," Lucius said, that smile turning into a full-fledged smirk, grey eyes suddenly sparkling with a deep and bothersome sort of devilment that screamed for all the world to see that he was up to something.

Severus knew he should've suspected something of Lucius. But all the other boy was probably going to do was put a mouse in his hands. Lucius knew very well that he liked all sorts of odd creatures, and didn't mind touching them.

"Don't turn me purple." Lucius had mentioned learning how to do that in one of the letters he had read over the summer, so Severus tossed that out on an odd thought, mostly amused. Black eyes closed so trustingly, in a way he'd only do for Lucius.

For a moment, the blond simply stood and looked at him, quietly perusing the small puckered lips, the nose that was almost too large for his face. It would have been if he hadn't possessed such a stubborn chin, such bright, curious eyes, and he almost regretted telling Severus to close them. Almost... Taking a deep breath, he leaned across the space between them and pressed his lips to those lovely, warm, pink ones he'd been watching since the train, his own parted just slightly as he did so, a tremor of nervousness running through him.

Severus felt it with a slight jolt of pressure against his mouth. Warm, dry against his mouth, and oddly interesting. He cracked his eyes open; it was impossible to focus, with Lucius's face so close to his, and warm breath puffing against the side of his cheek. That had so caught his attention that he missed his own exhaled 'oh', and the equally nervous, startled parting he gave.

It only lasted a few seconds and then Lucius pulled back slightly, one hand shifting to lightly touch Severus's shoulder. "I missed you," he said simply.

Missed him? Oh, so that was why Lucius had done that -- done that, and needed to get him away from other people to say it. "I missed you, too." Winter holiday hadn't been so bad, or very long at all. Two weeks spent reading and occasionally playing in the snow, compared to handfuls of weeks spent in summer warmth without Lucius. It was worsened, too, by finally knowing what it was like to have friends, and then not to have Lucius there with him all summer. In a bit of a rush, Severus re-closed the gap between them, hugging Lucius lightly. "I'm glad we're back in school."

"I'm glad you're going to stay with us again," Lucius whispered against his ear, the feel of Severus pressed tightly against him, almost face to face, making him tingle. "You'll love the sheets Mother sent, and there's new candy I brought with me, too. Bloodpops...." He laughed softly. "Very interesting candies, those. I don't know that you'll like them much."

Severus could feel his hair press against Lucius's cheek, crinkle against his ear just as Lucius's voice did. A bit of a smile tugged at his lips again, as he hugged Lucius just a bit more, before pulling back. "What're they like?" It was with a hand on Lucius's shoulder, just for a moment, that he goaded them to walking again. Somehow a proper reunion had set his nerves to thrumming along. It finally felt like the new year had begun.

"Disgusting things, all blood and sugar solidified. I sort of like them," Lucius confessed, pale skin prettily flushed as they walked along. "They have... Hm, what Mother calls a 'coming on' taste to them." Lucius's mother often had strange, quaint things to say, but she was very nice.

"What's that mean?" And Severus always asked for an interpretation of whatever she said. It was good to fall back to that routine.

"Oh, that she liked it rather much. You know mother's tastes are a bit odd." That was because Lucius's mother was half-Veela, not that many of the other students knew. It didn't make him any less a pureblood by any means, for Veela were considered a rare and wonderful thing to woo and wed, but Lucius preferred to keep a great many things to himself, a trait gained from his father. One never knew when such a thing might provide one with an advantage.

"Still, if you like them..." It was at least worth a try. And if they were bad, Lucius would still like them, and that was perfectly fine. As long as good candy didn't go to waste. "Your mother has passed on a lot to you."

The smile Lucius gave him was brilliant. "Her beauty, her charm, her temper... Indeed, Severus, she has, but I'm still a Malfoy at the core of it. It's good that people occasionally forget, because it gives me the opportunity to remind them." Lucius greatly enjoyed that.

It was hard to forget that Lucius was a Malfoy at the root of it, because that was why Grandfather wouldn't let him talk with Lucius over the holiday. "It's fun to watch you remind people who do forget, usually." Sometimes, it seemed that Lucius forgot that he was a Malfoy, too. The odd hum from the kiss and the embrace that followed still ran through Severus's body.

"Come on. Let's fetch your things and go to bed." The thought of it made his mouth curl slightly with pleasure, his head tilted to the side.

"Do you think Crabbe did his summer assignments?" Severus sounded a bit curious as they turned down a set of winding stairs that would take them into the depths of the dungeons.

"Does he ever?" Lucius drawled. "Goyle will be struggling to do his tonight. Crabbe, however, will go straight to bed and not care."

"Maybe I can help Goyle a bit before we sleep. I... almost missed hearing Lestrange complain that I'm there." Severus kept one hand on the banister as they went, fingers playing over the smooth wood as they circled down and down.

"He's had a busy summer," Lucius drawled. "Perhaps he got over it."

"As Parkinson didn't?" Severus stopped at the very bottom of the well, looked over at Lucius as he so often did. The second year dorms weren't far now, and he already knew how to get to the room he'd share with the third-years. "I don't know why he has to be asinine."

Lucius knew precisely why Parkinson was such an ass, and likely the reason that Lestrange was, as well. Severus's parents had been high in the ranks -- almost as high as his own father -- and Severus was, therefore, more likely to win the Dark Lord's approval than they. "Jealousy," he said simply. "Petty, but they're petty sorts of people, aren't they?"

"Yes." Twice as petty in Severus's eyes, because he was unaware, still, of his own parent's involvement in whatever they'd been involved in. There were whispers, of course, and murmurs, and what he'd gleaned from his own research, but there wasn't any way to form it into a coherent thought. His parents... had died serving Voldemort. And he knew nothing else, even from his Grandfather.

Petty, petty people, in Severus's eyes, because he didn't know what they knew, and didn't try. And now he was going to have to dart into his room and... well. He was brilliant and better than them, without question.

"Come on, Lucius," Severus said, just before he opened the door to the dorm. "You'll get the knapsack, won't you?"

For a moment, the blond boy's glacial gaze softened, warmed, turned a muted, delicate argent. "You gave me what I wanted, so yes," he agreed. "I'll help you with the rest, too, if you like." It wasn't an offer he would make many people, as he often didn't even do such things for himself. That was, after all, why he had Gristian and Pyrrhus.

"Thank you." Severus said it genuinely, as he moved into the room with compass accuracy towards his bed, and his things. Clothes were quickly packed out of the dresser, back into his trunk. The house-elves would learn eventually, wouldn't they? Sometimes his laundry disappeared to the wrong dorm, thanks to the silly creatures, and he had to retrieve it.

The other boys in the dorm-room were blandly, purposefully ignored as Severus went back to quickly packing things. "Pussy," Parkinson muttered under his breath only moments before finding himself with four white paws and ears.

"I do hope that was the proper answer to your request," Lucius said sweetly. It wasn't a nice spell he'd used, and it wasn't one a boy his age was supposed to know yet, but oh, it felt nice to do that to Parkinson!

Severus did things like that all the time, without even a flicker of worry. After all, why worry if he could undo it? Severus looked up and over to Parkinson, who was staring numbly at his white paws.

"Let me fix that," he declared, after he cinched closed his bag, and offered it to Lucius. A sharp flick of his wand, and the white fur turned a dingy shade of black. "There. That suits you better."

"Show off," Avery, one of the other boys Severus didn't have to room with, muttered.

Malfoy only laughed, though, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "Are you ready, Severus?" he asked with amusement, ignoring the frantic mews Parkinson kept giving.

"Yes. It was a long train-ride, and I'm tired." He closed narrow fingers over the handle of his trunk, and dragged it behind him. The gliding spell he'd cast on it worked better than any muggle wheels could hope to work.

They wandered out of the room easily, leaving Parkinson behind mewing frantically. "I can imagine. I'll bet all you did this summer was sit inside and read. Tell the truth, Severus," Lucius teased, flitting him a look from beneath blond lashes. "You didn't even go outside once since your grandfather won't let you into his precious gardens."

"I went out a few times," the younger boy denied. "He let me go into the gardens and play. Though I did spend most of it reading." Severus glanced over to Lucius, as they started their walk to the other dorm. Golden lashes seemed to slice the clarity of grey eyes, eyes that Severus liked to look at without hindrance.

"Thrice," Lucius teased him. "You went out thrice."

The horror of it was that Lucius was true -- Severus couldn't do anything but laugh, a soft, and thoroughly pleased noise, as he tripped ahead of Lucius down the stairs. "But I spent the entire day outside each time."

"Oh, well, I suppose that makes up for it," the blond teased him, momentarily using a leviosa spell to lift Severus's trunk over every sixth step on the way down. "Lots of sun you must have gotten those three days."

Severus simply jumped over those sixth steps. "And I slept on my balcony -- that must count for something."

"A lot, actually. If I'd known, I'd have come to see you," Lucius said, and that was true. He would have come, for he'd been awfully bored without Severus to challenge him.

"Oh -- well, I'll do it next summer, so..." Severus looked over at his third year friend, as they reached the hallway proper. "We could do that over Christmas, but it's far too cold to sit out there for hours and hours. But how would you get there? We're not allowed to practice magic over the holiday." And it had nearly driven him mad. All of those spells that he'd only been able to mimic; all of those spells he cast sometimes on barely a thought.

Lucius smiled, gave him a wink as they headed down the hall to the hidden opening into what was now the third year dorms. "Pureblood," he announced, and it appeared, opening for them. Lucius had charmed it to do that during first year, apparently, wanting it hidden from others. "We could always just stay over holiday. Just you and me."

"Grandfather might not let me." Bookish as he was, he liked to see his grandson as often as he could, and Severus acquiesced to that wish with his usual grace. "I'd like to, though." Severus let Lucius enter the dorms first, hanging back with his trunk.

"So, ask. The worst he can do is say no."

"Say no to what?" Lestrange asked, looking at them. He seemed a bit grumpy, but also resigned to the fact that Severus would be in the room with them whether he particularly liked it or not.

"My staying here over Christmas holiday." Severus lifted the trunk with a tug, over the bottom lip of the entryway. From there, he knew exactly where he was supposed to put it: just beside Lucius's, at the end of Lucius's bed. He was sure that his trunk, vaguely sentient as it was, liked Lucius's trunk as much as he liked being there himself.

"Oh, Merlin's balls, Lucius!" Lestrange snapped out, looking vaguely horrified. "He's only twelve!"

"Put your dick back where it belongs and keep it out of your thought processes," the blond snarled. "It's none of your consideration, nor is it what you think, you ridiculous twit!"

Severus looked over to Lestrange, as he pushed and tugged at his trunk to situate it perfectly. "What do you mean by 'he's only twelve'? I'm old enough to stay here over Christmas holiday!"

Lestrange snorted. "For a smart boy, you're infinitely stupid." The creeping flush over pale white cheeks made him snicker, and it made Lucius take a step closer to him threateningly.

"I'm not stupid," Severus muttered, letting his trunk come off of the buffering spell. It fell the last inch it had been above the ground, with an ominous thud. Lestrange soon found the younger boy's black on black gaze on him. Why Lestrange seemed to enjoy bothering him -- rather like Parkinson -- was beyond him, but he wasn't going to let Lestrange get away with it. "I just don't know what you're going on about. You aren't making any sense." No more than Lucius's retort about not thinking with his dick.

"Don't worry," the other boy said, backing away from Lucius. "I'm sure it won't be much longer before you do. You won't even be able to hold out the whole year, will you, Veela?" It was snide, sharp, and it gained him Lucius's fist against the point of his chin, slamming him down onto his own bed. "Fuck!"

"Keep your mouth shut," Lucius hissed.

"Listen, Nordstrom, you shouldn't talk that way..." Goyle was closing a text book he'd been staring at, and rushed to back his friend up.

Things were the way that Severus expected them to be. Only, he felt a little confused, and lost. Lost wasn't a familiar feeling -- he knew more than enough to get by in any situation. Except, it seemed, for that particular one. "You're trying to start something," Severus muttered, absently pulling his wand from his sleeve. "Are you trying to threaten me? I can't tell, because you haven't made a bit of sense."

"Don't worry, little Severus," Lestrange sneered, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Lucius had hit a little higher than Nordstrom had thought, and his lip had split. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually."

"Fuck off, Lestrange," Lucius said flatly. "Petty jealousy is such a trivial reason for you to die."

Severus was sure he'd figure it out. And when he did... well, he'd probably find there wasn't anything to figure out at all. Lestrange had a way of being asininely stubborn. Realizing that nothing would come of the confrontation other than irritation, Severus turned towards Lucius, tugged at his knapsack from the other boy's shoulder. "I'm going to go wash up," he explained, digging through it quickly for shampoo and toothpaste while it was still on Lucius's shoulder.

"Do that," Lucius said shortly, eyes never wavering from Lestrange. "We'll be here when you get back." Though whether Lestrange would be here or gone off to the infirmary, that was a totally separate issue. He wasn't included in Lucius's 'we'.

The black-haired boy had already slipped into his internal oblivion -- a tangle of thoughts, ideas, spells and potions mixtures to be sorted through. He grabbed his pajamas from his trunk, and walked towards the bath they shared with the fourth-years, now. Whatever happened while he was gone, it wasn't his concern. Lestrange had brought it down on his own head by insulting Lucius's heritage.

By the time he came back, Lestrange was gone -- no surprise there. The others had settled in, though Lucius was clutching one hand lightly over his eyes, not quite visibly upset, but neither entirely possessed of himself, either. Crabbe and Goyle both remained quiet and said nothing, as they were undoubtedly expected to do.

Severus set his things down atop his trunk, and padded quietly to what had become his side of the bed. He would broach the silence, as he always did for the sake of his curiosity. "Are you all right, Lucius?" Soft concern for his friend, as he knelt carefully on the bed, so as not to jostle it.

"Slight headache," Lucius announced, though his hand didn't shift. "The irritation of dealing with Lestrange after such a pleasant time of not having to listen to him whine and all that."

"I can brew you something for it," Severus whispered, shifting to crawl closer to his friend. Lucius had certainly been right about the new sheets. They were cool beneath his palms as he edged nearer, soft and sleek to the feel.

"Hm? Oh, no, that's all right. It's time to put the lights out now," he declared, and Goyle began gathering his homework together. "It's nothing a bit of sleep won't cure," Lucius told him, standing up and promptly stripping out of his clothing there and then. Modesty had never been a virtue of Lucius's, and Severus simply didn't know it was a virtue to begin with. Often, on the days that the dungeons became hot, the younger Slytherin would strip off to put on his pajamas bottoms, but he was so thin that it was often saner for him to conserve warmth and change after getting washed. So while Goyle was making an obvious attempt not to look, Severus didn't care at all. He'd been looking at Lucius to begin with, and wasn't going to stop looking at him. He was still like some figure from a fairy-tale book, pretty and warmly pale like the buttermilk the cook at Snape Manor was so fond of giving him, pure-toned with enough of a twist to make it miles more interesting than the usual sort.

The heat of grey eyes met his own inscrutable gaze, and Lucius's mouth tipped upward slightly in what was almost a smile before he slid into the bed in only his pajama bottoms, such a soft, thin cotton that they could be seen through with ease. "Ready for bed?" he asked. It seemed as though it was to the room in general, but it wasn't; it was without doubt meant for Severus.

"Yes." And without waiting, Severus pulled back the sheets to slip under them. Closing his hand over a fold of the fabric proved his first assumption about it twice as right. Soft as clouds caught in his fingers, chill as dissipating vapors. "This is very nice..." And such a light color. Any further animal experimentation would have to be done on the coverlet, or Lestrange's bed.

Malfoy slid into the bed with him just as Goyle blew out the last candle, and for a moment, they were apart by several feet, perhaps even inches, but then he felt Lucius close to him, warmth radiating from bare limbs, thin chest, legs that were not quite as long as Severus's. "Good night," the blond whispered, a breath of sound.

"Good night, Lucius." The drawl of the older boy's name seemed to hold the words 'I missed this' in its depths. Severus laid his cheek on the pillow, facing towards Lucius in the all encompassing darkness. It was such a good thing that summer was over at last.

---

Dumbledore looked at Severus thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose that we can continue as we did last year, Severus. You will show me what you learn, yes?"

"Yes, sir," Severus promised him. Eagerness was clear on his face, just as it had been when he'd given Dumbledore that dully-colored bouquet of flowers in the infirmary. Why he liked the often very silly old man, Severus couldn't say, and didn't wish to be bothered in doing so. There was just a... trust that he could grant, and did grant. "I plan on doing research on Veela first, though."

"Because of Mr. Malfoy, I assume. What do you think you will discover there, Severus?" the old man asked him with a little smile. "I hope that you are as eager to be his friend afterwards as you are now."

"I'd never not be his friend," Severus said a bit curiously. His head tilted slightly, and he looked at Dumbledore with appraising eyes. Lestrange had been trying to hint at something horrible, hadn't he? But here Dumbledore was, saying such odd things... "Nordstrom tried to say that there was something horrible about Lucius because of it. I just wanted to know what it is. I've no fear of Lucius."

"Veela are extraordinary creatures," the headmaster told him seriously, nodding. "Very hedonistic perhaps is the best way to phrase it, Severus. They are also very capable of a terrible anger. Mr. Malfoy is lucky to be affected by only a quarter of that blood, but I feel sure that it wears on him at times. I think perhaps you should begin by looking up Veela in the main library, Severus..."

"I don't think that would tell me what Lestrange was trying to insinuate. He said something about Lucius not being able to last a year, and something about me finding out soon enough." He was editing, with a purpose, as he talked. No need to start it from the beginning, or to say anything to the headmaster that could get people in trouble.

With a deep sigh, the older man rested both elbows upon his desk, fingers templing thoughtfully before him. "All right, then, Severus. Perhaps you should know...."

Severus folded his hands in his lap most patiently, looking at Dumbledore and waiting. For a second year, he had such bright, but cunning eyes; an intelligence that perhaps the rest of his body, and his own mental readiness, hadn't entirely caught up with. "If it's so grave, perhaps I should."

"We will discuss it at the same time next week, then," Dumbledore declared, scrawling out the note in green ink upon parchment that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. "Until then, Severus."

The black-haired boy slipped quietly from his chair, and reached for the note with his slender, delicate fingers. "Thank you, sir. If it can wait another week, then Lestrange was obviously wrong when he said Lucius would eat me whole while I slept." The edges of his mouth lifted a bit wryly; he hadn't believed Lestrange at all to begin with -- but it was gratifying to mention the boy's teases to teachers.

For a moment, he thought the old man would choke, but he only got a VERY strange smile in return. "Well, hopefully Mr. Malfoy won't be making any meals of you, Severus," he managed to get out, rather shocked. "Perhaps I should have words with Mr. Lestrange..."

Severus arched an eyebrow ever so slight, the opposite one dashing down over his pupilless eyes. "Thank you, sir. And... sir? I've learned not to put more than one candy in my mouth at a time. That keeps one from choking." It was the only thing he could come up with for the sudden wide-eyed, tight-throated look that the headmaster had taken on.

"Yes. Thank you, indeed. I'm overly fond of lemon drops, I think. At least they aren't Every Flavor Beans..." Dumbledore said dryly, letting Severus get away with thinking that was the cause of his problem.

It was probably easier on them both that way. Severus took his slip, and glided out of the headmaster's office, with a smile over his shoulder. He wondered just what he'd find in the restricted section on that topic, that was so horrible. It set his mind thrumming along with anticipation. Perhaps he could go down there after potions class, but before supper.

That would give him plenty of time to bone up on everything that he wanted to know.

---

Irma Pince looked at him with no small amount of panic in her wide, brown eyes. "Headmaster Dumbledore said that you were to have this book. This book IN PARTICULAR?" she questioned, waving her wand to test the permission slip for forgery.

The slip-thin boy looked up at her in purest concern for her intelligence. "It says it on my slip, Madam Pince. I talked about it with Professor Dumbledore this morning." Was she dense? It did say it right there, and whatever could be so wrong about the book he was supposed to look at? It was only a book, after all.

"Oh, goodness, but this book, it's..." Her face was flaming with color. "Oh, my goodness, me."

"Is there something wrong with it? What's it on, exactly? I'm looking for information on Veela." He stood on his toes, peering over the edge of her desk at her. She looked ill.

"Well, yes, but... but... Oh, goodness..." She seemed to have given up, for she took up her wand and moved into the restricted section, casting spells to open the way for her and withdrawing the book carefully, almost as if it would burn her fingers. "Mr. Snape, if I find that you have allowed anyone other than yourself to look at this book...!"

"I'll go find a quiet corner, Madam Pince." The same words he told her every time that he briefly checked out a stunning book -- either in comprehension level, or subject matter. There was a nice niche in the corner, at the far side of the 'sitting' area. He'd be left alone there, to read and figure out just what Professor Dumbledore had wanted him to come across in the book.

"Goodness, oh, goodness," she declared, lifting a thin book to fan her face even as he walked away from her desk.

Uncaring and unnoticing of anyone around him, Severus paced through the sitting area. His steps, pointed, targeted, carried him to his niche like a cleanly fired arrow. The cover was old, blue-dyed leather, delicately embossed and covered with a fine layer of dust that had settled over its exposed parts. Once Severus was seated, he blew the dust off the cover. Then he snugged himself nearer still into the corner, a shoulder buttressed against the wall, before he opened it.

/Veela, Voluptuous Vixens of the Wizarding World./ Well. That sounded promising, didn't it? It sounded something, anyway, and he turned the pages to peruse the table of contents.

Two hours later, he was fairly glued to the words, black eyes huge as he read. He was nearly two thirds of the way through, reading so quickly that his eyes seemed to shoot from side to side, so it was something of a surprise when Lucius's voice purred a hello in his ear.

"Busy much?"

Severus jolted more properly upright, and then very carefully closed the book. After all, he'd promised not to let anyone else read it; Lucius probably knew it all already. "Ah, not really, Lucius."

"What are you reading?" Lucius asked him, leaning over to look at the title. "Oh." That was a little flat, a little nervous, perhaps even a bit hurt.

Oh, no. He couldn't lose his only friend because of his own curiosity! Lucius was so quiet about it, so sensitive about the subject that perhaps... "I... Dumbledore told me to read it." That was lame, wasn't it? He looked back at Lucius, eyes still a bit wide from what he'd been reading. "I'm sorry. It doesn't change anything -- Lestrange was just being an ass, because there's nothing in here that scares me or could scare me, so he can just shut up about it." Voluptuous vixens indeed -- there were pictures in the book, of the Veela, and their ways of... hunting. Severus still felt a bit funny, strangely warm over what he'd read. Now he had to deal with that, and anxiousness over Lucius possibly being angry at him.

Pale pink lips compressed, Malfoy not quite looking at him. "Are you... bothered?" he asked finally, and it was obvious that he wasn't angry. He was just very distinctly worried that Severus would... he decided not to think about it, looking into those infinitely dark eyes. Lucius wasn't ashamed of who he was or of his mother, but he didn't want to lose Severus. There was just something about their friendship... something special.

Bothered? Severus glanced back to the book, then murmured, "No. It's interesting, but... why should I be bothered?" It had only explained that Veela were sensual creatures, and that maybe... Severus swallowed, still looking up at Lucius slightly anxiously.

"Read a little further," was the dry response, Lucius sitting down next to him and flipping the pages over to one of the later chapters on male Veela. "You might not want to crawl back in bed after that one. Lestrange was certainly intending to make you curious and make you worry about it," he sneered.

"I wasn't worried," Severus denied -- though he had been curious. A curiosity that he was unable to deny, as always. "I only wanted to know..." His fingers brushed over Lucius's hand as he stopped the other boy from turning any more pages. "I still trust you, Lucius."

"Are you entirely certain that's wise?" The question was just a little hard, but it didn't stop Lucius's fingers from turning to meet his own.

Black eyes peered up at grey, still curious. "Don't start trying to scare me off, too, Lucius. Lestrange does a bad enough job. I've a liking to make my own choices, when I can." Severus's fingers squeezed Lucius's hand, and then dark eyes looked down to the page Lucius had opened to. "I don't see anything to scare me. It's the same as in the female section."

"Keep reading," Lucius told him, accepting the touch of the younger boy's fingers. "It's not quite the same. Males mature earlier, Severus. That, in a roundabout sort of way, is what Lestrange was so infinitely interested in telling you."

"So, it's like you're older." Severus turned a page, glancing only for a moment at the picture. Blond and pretty, like Lucius was. Lucius had those grey, steely eyes that he liked to look at, that just enthralled him to see how they'd change colors ever so slightly. "So?"

"So... none of that bothers you." It was a bit surprising to Lucius, it seemed, that Severus wasn't upset or fretting about the matter.

"I don't see why it should." Severus was still looking at the pages. Matured faster, needs comparable to the female, enjoyments equal. There was, admittedly, a chunk of what he was reading that he had no real basis for. The sexual appetites of a Veela were fascinating to read, but... a bit embarrassing to think about. That was all, though.

"More to the point," Lestrange sneered from behind them, "I don't see why it shouldn't."

Severus could feel Lucius go stiff beside him. "Perhaps you'd like to take Severus's place in my bed, Nordstrom?" the blond offered with icy inflection. "You seem to have a perverse fascination with my own needs, particularly considering the fact that I know you tricked that house-elf for a pair of Anastasia Tremaine's dirty panties."

The second year closed the book again, holding it to his narrow chest as he turned to look at Lestrange. "Why would you want something like that? That's disgusting."

"Of course you'd think so, you little virgin," Lestrange sneered.

"Stuff it, Nordstrom," Lucius said, standing, and Severus could almost see pale blond strands of hair lifting slightly as if blowing in the breeze. He moved closer to Lestrange, a stride of a sort that Severus had never seen him make. "Or you'll regret it," Malfoy whispered, close to Lestrange's face now, and the other boy paled visibly.

"I should just tell Professor Hecate, or the headmaster, because it's obvious that Severus hasn't realized what's wrong with you yet, despite having read that book. You're a stupid, sick boy," Lestrange pressed on, pulling back from Lucius. Getting away from him seemed to give color back to Nordstrom's cheeks.

"Maybe what's 'wrong' with Lucius is 'wrong' with me, too," Severus muttered defiantly, standing up from his chair. "I'm going to give this back to Madam Pince. Do you want to go eat dinner earlier than usual, Lucius?"

"Yes," Lucius said, stepping closer to Severus, moving past him. "Let's do that."

"You're both sick," Lestrange hissed at the black-haired boy before he could get too far away to hear it.

Well. If they were, then it probably explained a lot, Severus decided. He approached Madame Pince's desk with the books still held to his chest, and Lucius beside him. "Madame Pince? I've finished reading."

"Oh, goodness," she continued to declare as she took it back. "Oh, my dear goodness..."

"Come on," Lucius growled, stalking out of the library ahead of him.

Severus had to jog a little to catch up with his friend, and when he did, his expression was faintly worried. Lucius wasn't happy, and when he had lost his temper the handful of times he had the previous year it was always a spectacular event. And painful for anyone within the sound of his sharp, targeted voice. "Just ignore Lestrange, Lucius. It doesn't bother me at all."

"Oh, no." The other boy's voice purely trembled with repressed fury, and when he turned on Severus, he was almost terrifying. "I will not ignore him. I will not forget it. I will make... him... SUFFER!"

"He isn't gaining anything by doing this. Nothing's changed, Lucius -- calm down?" Not quite a plea, though Severus did reach out to stop Lucius from walking any farther. He decided to guide them both down a longer, side way to the great hall. His fingers, light on Lucius's shoulder, clung ineffectively to the older boy. "Revenge is better when you're calm."

"I'm going to kill him one day, Severus," Lucius seethed on a hiss of breath. "And it's going to be deeply and truly painful when I do. Until then, however, I am going to make sure that he suffers. I am not ready to calm down. Severus."

"But why're you angry?" He didn't understand that, or why what he'd read in the book was giving so many people -- Madam Pince included, it seemed -- fits. Severus was forced to wonder, for a moment, if his mind was slipping. "I don't understand," he admitted after a moment more of holding them both still in that branch hallway.

"Because he's right," Lucius hissed. "Because I'm dangerous to you. Because I shouldn't have you in my bed!" That said, he leaned across, captured Severus's mouth, stole his way into it, took it.

The younger boy hadn't expected it any more than he had that first kiss they'd shared, which had been so much softer and nonintrusive. Lucius's mouth pressed against his, a warm thing that was slightly damp. Like a melting chocolate frog, he told himself before he felt Lucius's tongue worm to press against his lips, and into his slack-jawed mouth. The noise of surprise he made startled them both when he pulled away from his best friend. Jerking back didn't do him much good, because his hand was still clutching to Lucius's shoulder. And, surely, Lucius could hear his suddenly thrumming heart, nervous breath. "That's not dangerous..."

"Isn't it, Severus?" The answer was hissed, and Lucius's hands were hard on him, tugging the black-haired boy to follow him down some unknown corridor that branched off of the one they were in. "Do you know what comes after that, Sev? Do you want to know? Because trust me, I can show you. I could..." He stopped, seeming to pull himself together, and let go of the other boy. "Get away, Severus."

Dark brows, that seldom showed concern for more than an idle tick of a second, drew together as he looked at Lucius. The younger boy's deep black eyes, with their bottomless intelligence, stared at Lucius, as he held his ground. It didn't matter that Lucius had let go of the front of his robes, that he was free to run as part of him said he should. Funny, that part sounded like his grandfather. Skittish old man.

Severus was determined to never be like that, and it showed as he stepped closer to Lucius, eyes still worried. Not for himself, but for his friend. "Show me, Lucius. It's bothering you -- show me."

"You don't want to know," Lucius told him. "You really don't, Sev. You're too young. Wait a year. Wait three."

"I don't want to wait a whole nother year," Severus murmured. One hand lifted again, to press palm-flat against Lucius's chest. Warm, like always, and somehow feeling Lucius's less frantically beating heart soothed his own. "I'm poor at waiting."

"You'll want to wait for this," Lucius said thickly. "Do some research first, Sev. For Merlin's sake..."

"If you're going to insist..." Severus trailed off, hand still pressing. It was almost as if he didn't notice what Lucius's reaction was to him being so close, so comfortably close. "But... you're not going to make me leave the dorm, are you?"

"No," the blond agreed, voice rasping in his throat. "Severus. GO."

Severus stepped back at last, still gazing at his best friend. "Should I get Madam Pomfrey?"

"It's nothing anyone can do anything about, Severus. It's a matter of self control, and right at the moment, I don't have any, so you need to go!"

"All right. I'll... I'll see you at dinner, Lucius." Or that evening. Certainly that evening. Severus turned, a bit disoriented for the moment, but walked down the hall, looking back at his friend every so often.

He couldn't remember being so frightened for someone in his life.

---

"Well, Severus?"

It had been a week, and a stranger week, Severus couldn't recall having had. Rumors had run rampant for days that Lestrange was a freakish pervert who'd done much worse than stolen panties, and while the other boy had tried to spread rumors about Lucius, no one was quite brave enough to repeat them. Tack onto that the fact that the blond boy had nearly clung to his side of the bed every night for a week, hovering on the edge to keep away from Severus, and it had just been bizarre.

That in particular had unsettled him, because he was used to them sleeping where they would. The year before, and even that first night, had been different. Sometimes, he'd roll over to Lucius's side and get a good-natured elbow in the side that woke him up from his clinging to the other boy. And sometimes, Lucius would roll over to his half, and they'd lay there in a tangle of limbs until Severus cast a tickling spell that woke Lucius up. He didn't like the new tension and couldn't grasp it, even with the research he'd been able to glean from the main part of the library. Madam Pince wouldn't let him check the Veela book out again, not without a new pass.

"I'm confused," were the first words out of his mouth, once he'd settled down across from the headmaster, in a chair that looked as if it were going to swallow him whole. "Classes are fine, but... sir, about that book. I'm confused about that."

"Yes," the old man agreed carefully, nodding. "I was afraid that you might be. What confused you about it, Severus?"

Afraid that he might be. Severus caught at that immediately, frowning as he looked at Dumbledore. One leg kicked a little at the air, foot scuffing the carpet as it swung. "Sir, I've had a lot of people afraid for me this week, Lucius included. That's why I'm confused. So... so Veela mature quicker than others. And maybe Snapes don't, because I just don't understand what's so threatening."

"Well, it isn't precisely a subject we cover here in Hogwarts, and perhaps I should have you ask your Grandfather..." Dumbledore said. "But I know how stubborn he is, and how very unlikely you are to get an answer. I also know that you more than require one, you need one in a most desperate manner. Severus... how much do you know about procreation?"

His cheeks, pale from his proclivity to stay indoors so much, and a bit olive hued from heredity, had a faint burn rise in them. "It's, ah... when a man and a woman get into bed together to make children." He'd had to read about that in a book, and it had been damn hard to find, just like all the interesting books were.

"And do you know what happens there?" It was a gentle question. "What they do together?"

"They kiss, and they... they have sex." Not that he understood the nuances of it, or what that exactly meant. It didn't interest him too much, and still didn't seem to apply to him at all. Sex was just a blanket term for an act that eventually led to children, like him. "I'm still confused. I don't know what it has to do with Lucius." Other than that he matured sooner. Maybe Lucius wanted to do that? That was what he was supposed to be scared of? The idea of making babies was certainly a hair-raising prospect.

Equally hair-raising was that his thoughts were all but written on his face as they passed through his mind.

For a moment, it seemed the Dumbledore couldn't quite think of what to say; it was obviously not an explanation he had to give often. "Severus," he said gently, "when young men begin to mature, certain things happen to them. Are you aware of any of those things?" A negative shake of Severus's head nearly made him want to run from the room. "All right, then. When young men begin to mature, their bodies change. You're already growing taller." He sighed. "Hair will sprout out of funny places, Severus, from beneath arms and at your groin. Even your legs will become vaguely furry. There will also come a certain..." Oh, desire was the wrong word, he thought! "Need, in reference to sexual matters. This is what is happening to Mr. Malfoy, and what will without doubt happen to you very shortly."

"Oh." Moments like that, he hated being a year behind Lucius, a year slower than his friend. He looked down at his feet for a moment, thoughtful. "But is it so horrible? Lucius is acting strange. He's clinging to his side of the bed. I think he's going to fall off soon, if he moves over any further."

"With Mr. Malfoy, things are just a bit different. You recall what you read about the Veela nature, Severus?" The question was asked gently.

"They mature faster, and..." He bit one side of his mouth thoughtfully, as he quoted a particularly striking line from the book, "'They find themselves a slave to their wants, and indulge in them frequently as they can. Wants are needs.'"

"Just so. Wants are needs. Necessities, Severus. Desire in and of itself doesn't describe the drive that Mr. Malfoy is learning to control. Veela are somewhat indiscriminate creatures, as well; they do not often take great care in choosing their partners when their needs are desperate to be fulfilled. I'm sure that Mr. Malfoy is probably very worried that he will do something to you or make you uncomfortable with something of that nature and then everything will change between you. Perhaps you should get a separate bed, Severus, or even room with the other second years," Dumbledore said with serious inflection.

"Everything already has changed, though," Severus told the headmaster. His mouth was caught in a desperate frown, and he leaned a bit. "And I don't want to room with the other second years. I want to sleep with Lucius, and I don't see why I can't."

The old man looked at him, expression quite serious, and then he went to rummaging in a drawer. "Just a moment... Ahhh." It took a bit of conjuring, no small amount of razzle dazzle and even a bit of pure outright creation to root in that drawer and find just what one needed -- most specifically, a book about the development of young men, sex, and sex between them. "Severus. I will trust you with this, but for Merlin's sake, don't show anyone or tell them I gave it to you!"

"Can you put a locking spell on it?" Severus was equally serious, as he didn't take it yet from Dumbledore. "My locking spells don't work properly yet. I can't ever get them to unlock for me, but they unlock for everyone else."

A wave of the Headmaster's wand did the job perfectly. "Now it will only unlock for you and me, Severus. Perhaps we can talk about this again in a day or two." And by then, heaven help him, perhaps he'd have figured out how to tell a curious twelve year old about sex.

Severus clutched the book to his robes, looking up at Dumbledore with the eagerness he always had, and no shame at all in his eyes. "I hope I'm not taking up too much of your time... Professor Hecate runs me off when I bother her too much. You can just tell me to stop asking you things if I take too much time..."

"You aren't taking up too much of my time. I promise," Dumbledore assured him. "Now, go and read, Severus. We'll talk about all of this later."

Book held against him, Severus slipped out of the headmaster's office, and down the stairs. It took a bit of time, but he found a niche to hide away in. In the depths of the dungeons, a dark corner of one comfortably muggy room. "Lumos." With the glowing light from the tip of his wand, back tucked against stone, knees drawn up to his body, Severus was ready to read for hours to come, and it was hours later when he heard his name being called faintly.

"Sev? Severus, are you down here?"

That was Lucius, and obviously the blond boy was looking to find him.

There were no clocks around, so he had no idea how long he'd been there. Only that his legs were stiff, and he felt warm. Such a very interesting book, and a great number of things made sense now. Not perfect sense, but at least enough for him to muddle through the rest of it. What he did occasionally in the shower was perfectly normal, it seemed, and healthy. And, what Lucius was so scared of... didn't seem as bad as everyone thought. Lestrange needed to read that book, too. Maybe Lucius. There was an idea -- they could read it together, and then Lucius would be sure that it didn't bother Severus.

"I'm here..." He held his wand in his teeth as he squirmed out of the niche he'd tucked himself into.

"It's long past curfew, Sev..." The blond boy looked at him, face tight with half a dozen emotions. "I assume that it's because of what I did before... I know it must have upset you. I apologize for what happened earlier. I should neither have done nor said any of those things."

Severus brushed a smear of dust from his hip, shaking his head. Lucius was still as unsure as Severus felt -- so it was probably best that they were alone together to work through Lucius's problem. "I was reading. The headmaster made me promise not to let anyone else see the book, so I had to find a place to hide and read it." He gestured with his wand to the bland leather cover of the closed book.

"Oh," Lucius said a little blankly. "Are you..." He paused. It was obviously putting quite a dent in his pride to say it. "Are you upset with me?"

"Why do you keep expecting me to be upset?" Not quite an answer, but considering how... funny Lucius had been acting all week, Severus wanted his answers first.

"Because..." Lucius took a deep breath. "Things are changing. I'm changing. Maybe you don't want things to be the way they are anymore, or you won't once you understand it all..."

Severus gestured with the book again. "I think... I've figured it out, Lucius. Do you want to sit and read with me for a bit? We haven't got class tomorrow..."

Quietly, Lucius sat down beside him, expression vaguely arrogant and completely cut off... the face he gave to everyone else, but never to Severus. Never until now. "All right."

It unsettled him in ways he wasn't used to being unsettled, scared him in ways he wasn't ever scared before. It took his easy uncaring and made it tense, nervous as he settled cross-legged on the floor beside Lucius. "Alohomora." The book creaked a little, signaling that it was unlocked. Severus let nervous fingers open the cover, as he jammed the handle of his wand into a crack in the tile with his free hand. "See, Lucius? I've been reading. Like you wanted me too do."

Color flitted over grey eyes, a quick sheen there and gone. "And what did you find out?" he asked softly, turning to look at Severus very closely.

Black eyes were still fixed on the crisp pages, on his own narrow fingers toying with the pages. "That I could do a lot of this. And like it, if it was with you, Lucius..." It took effort to glance over at Lucius again, lips parted halfway in the act of saying more; he swallowed it down, though, anxious to see his friend's reaction.

"Severus..." It was a whisper just barely against his ear. "Can I... kiss you again?"

In the faint blue-white light from his wand, Lucius looked ghostly. That pale, pure skin seemed to glow -- or, perhaps it was something else that made it glow. "Yes." Still nervous, but anxious in the way that Severus often was before he tried something new that could either go horribly wrong, or terribly right.

"Close your eyes," Lucius murmured, and it was the same almost tender way he'd voiced it on their first evening back. It was only once his eyes were closed that Malfoy's mouth pressed tenderly to his, only slightly parted as they had been that night.

Severus moved this time, with careful slowness that was trying to combat the shudder of his fingers. They seemed to stop shaking when he'd latched onto the front of Lucius's robes, and that steadied him enough to kiss back. Open mouthed without intrusion, warm as that first kiss had been. There was a slight friction that Severus could concentrate on, press further. It made the warmth feel like it was spreading through him, and to Lucius, too.

For a moment, it went on like that, mouth meeting mouth, soft, warm, damp. Lucius's breath tickled his upper lip, teased at it, and the slight intrusion of tongue-tip nuzzled along the lower one. "Let me in," he whispered breathily.

Lucius certainly knew what he wanted. It was reassuring to Severus, since he was barely aware of why what was going on was going on. Fingers still clutched tightly, fisted in the robes Lucius had tossed on to go search for him. Three simple words made him open his mouth more, jaw slack as he took in the new sensations with the aid of the darkness behind his closed eyes. Lucius was ravaging him slowly, stealing his thoughts out with those kisses, and he could feel something growing deep in his belly, a demanding sort of something that wanted more.

"There..." It was just a murmur, Lucius still kissing him. "Not any farther, Sev. That's as far as it needs to go. We can do this, but..."

A whine escaped from far in the back of his throat, before he drew slow breath in through his nose. "That felt so good," he half-sighed and half complained once his mind has cleared a little. Words were spoken against Lucius's mouth, and he was vaguely aware that the book had slid, still open, from his lap when they'd twisted together.

"We can do it again," Lucius promised him. "But not any further, Sev. Don't tempt me to go further. Please..."

"If you want to, Lucius... A lot of that looked pleasant." Severus's outlook on it was soothing, even as he pulled himself closer to Lucius with the hands that had been caught in Lucius's robes. "I'd like to spend the weekend going over charms homework, practicing flying so I can try for the team, and kissing, if you don't mind..."

"All right..." Murmured agreement pressed against his ear. "That sounds good. For now, though, it's late, we should go back to the dorm room before we get caught..."

Severus caught the book, and his wand, into his hand when they both stood. He was a bit reluctant to let go of Lucius's robe yet, and there was no reason for him to do so. The hand remained, as the younger boy peered at Lucius in the darkened space. "No more of you almost falling out of bed?"

"Just promise not to kick me out of it," Lucius agreed tensely, kissing once more very lightly at the edge of his mouth.

"You know I don't move so much..." Severus was able to gather up a smile as he returned those words against his friend's mouth. "Come on. Let's go up to bed."

---

Lucius held out his hand idly as his father came closer. "Goodbye, Severus. I'll see you at the beginning of next term, won't I?"

And, he hoped, once or twice over the summer. They'd have to work that out then, though. Lucius was going to send an owl or two, just to see if Severus had gotten his grandfather to ease off. Severus sincerely hoped he could, because a whole summer without his friend would drive him mad, he knew. He was so used to waking up tangled with him, lips chapped from kissing, and sometimes skin chafed nicely... Nothing had really changed. If anything, Severus felt closer to Lucius than ever before.

"I hope I'll be able to find you on the train ride, this time." Severus didn't hesitate to shake Lucius's hand, because his grandfather was nowhere in sight yet.

"Lucius." His father's voice held the same chill inflections, and he had the same pale blond look as Lucius did. "This is young Severus, I take it."

"Yes, Father," Lucius said politely. "Severus, this is my father."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said politely, bowing ever so slightly to the man in deference. He had a tendency to do that with professors, too -- handshakes were for equals to share.

The man smiled slightly. "You look so very much like Sabina. Your mother was lovely. My cousin was a very lucky man to have wed her, though you show traces of your father as well. Your nose and mouth..."

"Cousin?" Lucius asked, eyes dilating momentarily with the surprise.

"I didn't know that...." Severus's black on black eyes flared wide for a moment.

"Indeed, your grandfather is my uncle, and Lucius's great-uncle," Arioch Malfoy explained calmly. "If you like, you may call me Cousin Arioch, or even Uncle, if you would prefer."

"Oh. I..." Uncle had so much more respect than cousin, so he leapt at that instantly in his mind. "I.... Thank you, sir." To Lucius, it was obvious that Severus was rendered near speechless with shock, a rare occurrence. One hand tugged at his robes, straightening them a bit. "I never knew before."

"Nor did I," Lucius said, voice tinged with recrimination. "Why didn't you tell me, Father?"

"There was no point in telling you, Lucius," Arioch said firmly. "Uncle Badminster has been most firm in his choice of refusing to admit that our side of the family continues to exist."

Badminster Snape -- yes, that was his Grandfather... Severus darted eyes over to Lucius for a moment, looking at him with familiar appraisal. "Knowing now doesn't change anything, sir -- but, thank you for telling me." Being vaguely related to Lucius didn't change matters at all, because at the start of the new term, he wanted to be just where he'd spent the entire term already.

"Do you think he would let Severus come and visit us, sir?" It was a tentative question, and mostly without hope after Arioch's previous statement.

"Perhaps," Lucius's father declared. "If hell froze over and Dumbledore served our Lord."

"Who's--"

"Severus, you were supposed to meet me at the corner of the station; you neglected to pick up your bag, you so-- Arioch."

"Hello, Uncle Badminster. Still as querulous as always, I see," Mr. Malfoy said firmly, his own blue eyes narrowing slightly, the only reaction he gave as to how he felt about Severus's grandfather.

Severus's grandfather looked very much as if Severus, and Severus's father, had taken all of the worst traits they'd had from him. The old man was tall to the point of being towering and spindly, with skin turned greyish from lack of sunlight. Severus's faintly sallow hue was a comparative improvement, a blessing of his mother's olive complexion.

For a moment, Arioch Malfoy stared at his uncle, Severus's grandfather. Then the old man grabbed Severus by the shoulder, and jerked him back. "I've told you not to associate with this sort of people before, Severus. Bad enough that you had to go and sort Slytherin to spite me, but I will not have you dying the way your parents did. Come along!"

Actions matched words, and Severus felt himself being tugged along. One last glance over his shoulder at Lucius, and then they turned a corner.

What a terribly long summer faced him.

"Father?" Lucius asked quietly, left behind in the strangled silence the old man had created.

"Yes?"

"Why...?"

Arioch placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. "I'll tell you on the way, Lucius. Come, now."

For a moment, grey eyes danced up to look at him. "Poor Severus," he finally said simply, and they headed out of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to go home.

---

Family was going to pick him up. Severus had to wonder what family he had left -- would it be the Malfoys, now, or perhaps someone in an entirely different country? Would the old man have gone as far as specifying in his will that Severus wouldn't go to a Malfoy?

It was just him and the household servants since his grandfather had been hurried to St. Mungo's -- to be declared Dead on Arrival. Things had been a whirl of activity since then. Ministry people had investigated its suspicious suddenness.

Talking down to him. Severus didn't like that -- why were they talking down to him when his grandfather had died! It was his grandfather who was dead, just like his parents were, and he was just... something to be swept up to his room by the minimal staff. A butler had told him to pack his things, which was an impossible task.

The man had forgotten that he wasn't able to cast spells over the summer; Severus had so many books, and things that he'd smuggled that were his parents'. Little remnants of them, the odd picture so he knew what they'd look like -- odd objects, most of them 'dark' in nature.

It was an entirely impossible task, so Severus simply settled in the middle of his bed, knees drawn up to his chest, and started to read. In the corner of the room, his great black owl hooted at him from its stand.

"Ready to go, Sev?"

He hadn't even heard Lucius come in, and his heart began to trip wildly at the sight of him. The blond boy laughed and hurried forward, flinging himself into Severus's bed. "They didn't want to let you come to us, but Father pulled strings," he announced, grey eyes wild with happiness. "You're going to spend the rest of the summer with us, and every Christmas and summer after!"

Severus's book slipped from his fingers, and he started up onto his knees as Lucius came closer. "Thank Merlin!" The fear of being made a ward of the Ministry faded, as he moved to hug Lucius briefly. "I haven't packed -- I'm sorry, but I didn't want to go wherever I was being sent, because I thought..." But it didn't matter, so his nervous voice trailed off.

"Doesn't matter." Lucius was smiling at him, an unfamiliar wand in his hand. Drawers opened, clothing dancing to the trunk at the end of Severus's bed. It opened itself, and the entirety of the room was slowly packed inside. "It's Father's old school wand," he explained as Severus's underwear cavorted its way into the trunk. "Those idiots at the Ministry can't tell the difference in my using it and him."

Severus watched partly in envy, as he walked over to his owl, to coax it into the cage. "They must be stupid, not to notice that. They're still in the building, I think -- a few of them, at least..." He cupped a hand over the owl's soft feathers, stroking a bit worriedly. "Can I bring Abrahm?"

"Of course! We have several owls at Malfoy Manor, and a much nicer owlery than the one at Hogwarts." Lucius paused, smiled at him, a wicked, teasing sort of expression that made Severus shiver. "I'm so glad you're going to be staying with us, Sev."

Would things be as they were at the dorm...? Severus hoped so, as he turned to coax his owl into its gilded cage. To not do so would be infinitely strange in his mind. "I'm glad, too -- I was going to miss you terribly again..." Perhaps his grandfather was gone, but he had Lucius. It didn't make the first null, but it certainly soothed his fears down.

"There." The trunk lid closed and Lucius sat on it, reaching between his legs to hinge the latches shut. "You're all ready to go, I think." He was obviously very excited, but he didn't say it. With Severus, he never had to say it. "You can sleep with me tonight, Father says. He says you're probably quite shaken up..." Lucius tilted his head to the side as if to ask him if he was.

Severus seemed to be, even if he wasn't going to admit it. His fingers, nimble things that could tell from feel the difference between a pinch and a dash of some ingredient, fumbled and fidgeted at the lock to Abrahm's cage. "I wish the Aurors would leave. One of them said that I killed Grandfather..." Which just wasn't true, or even probable.

"Father will put an end to that nonsense," Lucius told him firmly, slipping his father's old wand beneath his cloak. "You hadn't ought to worry about that, Sevvie..."

Severus's nose crinkled a little as he lifted Abrahm's cage from its stand, and walked over towards Lucius. "You know I hate being called that. The last time the Gryffindors heard you call me that..." Teasing of the sort that had made him give each and every one of them rat noses. Which would've been so much more funny if McGonagall hadn't made him turn them back so they wouldn't suffocate.

It wouldn't have been his fault if they died because they were too stupid to breath through their mouths.

"Are we flying there?"

"Father brought a car..." Lucius paused deliberately, smirked. "Sevvie."

Lucius found himself with Severus's fingers in his pale white hair, touching before they ruffled. "Lucie doesn't fit you at all."

"Call me Lucie again and I swear you'll suffer," Lucius promised, but it was hard to believe him when he was smiling like that, looking across into black eyes that were happier than they'd been in days.

"Lucius fits you better than that. Sounds like something a Gryffindor would use -- all sickly cute." Severus leaned a bit nearer, before he pressed a kiss to Lucius's mouth, light for the moment, but his own lips were already parting with hope.

Hope was fulfilled, the other boy's tongue lightly darting into his mouth, teasing at him for a moment before he paused, eyes gone dark grey. "Come on," he said a little thickly. "Not here. Maybe at home."

When Lucius gave a 'maybe' it meant 'yes, when he wants it'. Severus drew back, looking deeply at his friend. Summers, for years and years, and Christmases... Black gaze gave a lazy blink as he pulled away entirely, and started for the door, Abrahm's cage swinging in his grip. "Maybe then, yes." And maybe, when he was grown up, he'd reclaim his home. Put up wards, so that no Auror ever tramped through his garden again. Until then, the retainers would keep it up...

"Let's go."

---

Malfoy Manor was beautiful, even lovelier than Severus's home. That was probably because it was lived in by a family, he figured, and quite possibly because he was so happy to be away from the Aurors, too.

"Your mother will undoubtedly have kept dinner for us," Arioch commented lazily. "The servants will deposit your things in your room, Severus. It will be next door to Lucius's."

Close then -- that made him happy, too. There weren't any Aurors, there was Lucius to talk to and just be near, there were two adults in the house... The Manor simply seemed alive, compared to Snape Manor. Someday, when he was older, Severus decided that Snape Manor would be just like Malfoy Manor. It, too, would be alive for him. People would come to talk to him about books he had written, or was writing, how to do one spell or another...

The internal fantasy drifted, as they paused in the hallway for a moment. His gaze drifted, too, black eyes crawling over the tiles of the ceiling. Intricate artwork adorned each one, though what they were pictures of, Severus couldn't tell -- it was far too high up for him to get a proper look.

Proper look. That sparked something in his mind. The next words from his lips were, "When will the funeral be, Uncle Arioch?"

"The day after tomorrow, Severus. If you do not feel that you are up to the task, I will make your excuses. You're young enough, still, not to be required at such an occasion," Arioch assured him.

"I'd rather not go," Severus said without hesitating over it. "It's not... him. It's like a dead bug. He's gone, now."

The older man looked at him seriously. "Yes. You should always remember that, Severus. Once the life is gone, there is no use moping about over it."

"It's all right to miss, though, isn't it?" Severus looked at Arioch for a moment as he would Dumbledore -- actively seeking the guidance he needed.

"Of course," Arioch dismissed. "You're youthful yet, Severus, and no one would expect you to publicly show your grief."

"Good." He didn't want to have to go look at his grandfather's body -- people cried at funerals, and acted like the shell was the person. Severus could recall that much, from being balanced on the hip of a nanny at the closed casket funeral for his parents. "So, I'm not going to become a ward of the ministry?"

"I have made more appropriate arrangements," was all that Arioch would say. "Lucius, take Severus upstairs and change into proper attire for dinner. His trunk should be in his room by now. If it isn't, let me know," he said, and moved away from them.

"Come on," Lucius said, grabbing his hand and tugging at him. "It's just this way!"

Just this way turned out to be up a set of wide, curving marble stairs, their shoes tapping out a little rhythm as they hurried up them, paintings watching them go and whispering amongst themselves. The sound of it echoed slightly ahead of them, and soon all of the portraits were talking as they moved past.

"Who're all of them?" Severus asked, peering back over his shoulder as they walked down the echoing marble-floored hall. Hopefully the bedrooms would have wood, or carpeting -- otherwise, he'd have to wear slippers for fear of the noise driving him mad. "Are they all Malfoys?"

"Not all of them. Some of them are Snapes, and a few are even Langlois and Savarines," Lucius explained. "Most Malfoys find wives from Beauxbatons, so most of the women are French."

"It's a great deal of people..." They came up upon picture after picture on the walls, until Lucius turned suddenly.

There were two doors side by side, with barely space for a wall between their jambs. "One's yours, and the other is mine?"

"And there's another door between the rooms," Lucius told him with a nod. "This one's yours." He pushed open the door and walked inside of the room.

"What's dinner attire?" he asked, following Lucius into his new bedroom. It was crisp, and his trunk laid, still locked, in the very center of the room. A few weeks there, and it would be as much home as his previous room, and just as neat and orderly. He only needed a chance to break it in. "Grandfather never had me dress particularly for dinner."

"Formal robes," Lucius said with a little grimace. "Awfully heavy things, but there you have it. If you haven't any, you can borrow some of mine and I'm sure Mother will take us to get some for you tomorrow."

"I've a set from when I was very little... but none that I can wear," he said, moving to unlock his magically packed trunk. "Your father seems awfully nice -- your mother seems so, too." She'd sent Lucius those care packages often, after all, and Lucius spoke of her glowingly. That eased any nervousness he might've had. "Yes, I think I'll have to borrow robes."

"She'll like having another boy to dress up," Lucius decided, moving to a nearby wall and brushing back the tapestry there. Behind it lay a door, which pushed upon another tapestry on the other side when he opened it. "Come on through."

"She dresses you up?" Severus brushed the second tapestry back with his arm, as it slipped over the door a little. Lucius's bedroom gave him pause -- beautifully decorated, and without a doubt, it was lived in. But to comment on its elegance -- that he should have expected, considering Lucius's affinity for satin sheets -- would have been rude.

"You haven't noticed the things she sends with me to school?" the blond asked him dryly, moving to a large wardrobe against one wall. "Really, Severus. She loves it. At least she has excellent taste," Lucius decided, shrugging.

"I don't dig around in your clothes, Lucius -- only your books." Severus shrugged, too, as he stood close behind Lucius. Books were more appealing than clothing, and thinking about it, bed sheets were more appealing than clothing, too. "I won't mind if she decides to dress me up, too, though."

"Good, as I suspect you'll have no choice. Here, try these. They're a bit long on me, and with your legs..." Lucius's growth spurt had not quite hit yet, despite the fact that the Veela in him had been screaming because of a different sort of spurt. That lack of proper height put Lucius at only a bit taller than his younger friend and relation, and Severus without question had longer legs.

Not that it meant the dress-robes would be accepted well. Severus stared at them for a moment, holding the outfit out from him a bit. "Is it supposed to have so much lace?"

"I'm afraid so," Lucius drawled. "Just be glad that they're black." He pulled out another set in a deep dark blue with even more lace. "These are truly atrocious."

Severus was smiling to himself as he asked, "Are those the ones that fit you?"

"Unfortunately," Lucius replied, rolling his eyes as he began stripping out of his clothing. "Go ahead and take off everything underneath them. They're impossibly hot, otherwise."

Severus was careful to lay his borrowed set on the bed. Then he stripped his own summer robe and trousers off, letting them puddle on the floor for a moment before he pulled his underwear down, too. There wasn't an ounce of shame in him as he walked towards the bed again, and picked up the dress-robes again, opening the buttons while uncaringly nude before the other boy.

"Merlin, Sev." It was a mildly rough-voiced complaint. "You could've let me turn around first. Now I'll be suffering all through dinner!"

"I won't be," Severus teased him, as he slipped the robes on, and left them open for the moment. He turned to Lucius that way, grinning slightly before he started to button them up. "You just said to take off everything..."

"Thanks so much," Lucius groaned, a shaking hand covering his own eyes. He'd stripped off his own clothing, and the blue formal robes were almost on him, revealing a great deal of pale skin and a rampant erection. "It's cruel of you, Sev. Just cruel!"

"I might suffer, now..." Severus paced close, closer than Lucius would have liked, with his robes only halfway buttoned. He pressed a hand against Lucius's chest, over his heart and against warm skin. "Is dinner soon?" He wanted to touch the other boy's erection, that pale skin, he wanted to... do so many of the things that the book had said that Lucius hadn't let him do.

"Fifteen minutes, I'm afraid," Lucius whispered, leaning to kiss him, teasing lightly at his mouth for a moment. "It'll take a good five minutes to get down to the dining room." Malfoy Manor was huge.

"I don't want to be late," Severus admitted, pressing the kiss a bit more, despite Lucius pulling back already. A pity, since his breath was quickening, and he could feel his own cock twitching to life eagerly. He wanted to touch, and explore, and just indulge himself in Lucius. Then he wouldn't have to think of anything else at all. "After dinner?"

"After dinner," he was promised, and those pale fingers moved quickly along his front, buttoning Severus's dress-robes carefully. "I promise."

Severus pulled his hand back, warm fingers tracing over Lucius's flawless pale skin. "I'll hold you to it."

"I'd expect you to do no less," Lucius managed to grind out hoarsely. "Now, let's go downstairs. I'm sure Mother is probably already waiting for us."

"Button your robes first," Severus drawled, as his fingers darted to do just that for his friend. Then he slipped away, to put his boots back on. "I want to meet your mother. It's awfully nice of her and your father to take me in..."

"They wanted you desperately when your parents died," Lucius said. "I remember them talking about it, but your grandfather wouldn't allow it. Mother wanted me to have a companion, and you would have been perfect. You are perfect," he said, tugging on his own shoes. "Let's go downstairs."

That he had been wanted before then made it easier for him to accept -- less like he was a burden thrust upon them because there wasn't anyone else to do it. "I'll behave utterly at dinner tonight, Lucius -- I'll promise you that." Severus was already standing at the main door, waiting and ready, when Lucius pulled his second shoe on.

"I never doubted that you would," Lucius agreed, and they began the trek downstairs.

It was a rather convoluted path, at least as bad as Hogwarts. It gave Severus the same feeling of confusion that the school had originally, almost a dizzying sort of sensation. True, the stairs didn't move, but he was still half as lost as he'd been on his first day of classes, and knew for sure that he couldn't find the bedrooms again.

"I think I need a map," he declared softly, just as they entered the dining hall.

"Don't worry," Lucius said softly. "You'll become accustomed. Good evening, Mother. Father."

Arioch raised an eyebrow as Severus followed Lucius, sitting beside him near the middle of the table. "Good evening. I assume that your accommodations are acceptable, Severus?"

Lucius looked a great deal like his mother from what Severus could tell from the glance he took before he looked to Arioch. "Yes, Uncle -- very much so. It's very nice here." Even if it was overwhelmingly large, and there were too many things on the walls that threatened to distract him.

"Excellent," Arioch said, and that seemed to be the end of the conversation.

"Mother," Lucius said, "Severus doesn't have any dress robes. Could we go shopping tomorrow, perhaps?"

"No dress robes?" She looked down her short, pretty nose at Severus for a moment, studying him with beautiful grey eyes that looked just like Lucius's. Severus stared back, perhaps rudely, but without intimidation in him at all. "Such a shame. Early tomorrow, then, boys. We will take you, Severus, and dress you as befits a Snape."

"Yes, Aunt..." He looked at her awkwardly for a moment, before he went on, "I'm sorry. I don't even know--"

"Porrima," Lucius's mother answered him kindly.

Lucius was smiling at her, not the excited sort of beaming smile he would have given Severus, but one filled with a certain demure tenderness, all the same. "Thank you, Mother," he said simply. "May we go to Borgin and Burkes, too? I'd like to show Severus some things..."

"Perhaps next time," Arioch said.

"But Father..."

The answer that the elder Malfoy gave was firm. "Next time."

"Yes, Father."

"Grandfather never liked to go out... Can I go into the gardens here? They looked beautiful when we drove up, and Lucius keeps teasing me that I need to go outside more..."

As the servants brought dinner out, Severus launched into his unsure game of question and answer, trying to find his footing in the household, and the rules so he wouldn't break them and displease his two new caretakers.

---

"That went well," Lucius sighed, flopping down onto his bed. His dress robes had been abandoned in a crumpled heap on the floor, shoes kicked off beside them, and he was gloriously naked in the warm, sticky summer air that flooded in through the open windows. "I can't wait for tomorrow! We can get you a new broom, too, if you like, one like mine..." Lucius always had the best brooms, and as Seeker and Catcher, he and Severus were both excellent.

Severus had been required to use a school broom because his grandfather didn't want to buy him one and 'distract him any more from his studies'. "I'm glad your parents are so nice," Severus decided, turning away from the open window. He paused a moment to stare at Lucius's stretched out body. So many ideas flitted into his mind at once while he stood there with his back to the window and equally nude. "And that I can sleep here tonight."

"Mmm, so am I," Lucius agreed, rolling onto his belly and laying his head on his arms, looking at the dark-haired boy just across the way. "Are you coming to bed soon?" It was an invitation, one blatantly voiced with a smile.

"I might," Severus decided softly. He walked around the bed, first, though, and it was almost on an afterthought that he paced away from the bed again before pivoting to tackle Lucius.

The blond boy yelled as Severus flung against him, beginning to laugh. "Sev, you... Mmm..." Kisses, so soon, and arms tangling around his shoulders, lips and tongue teasing, attacking, passing back and forth between them. "Mmmm."

Lucius was still pinned to the bed by the slightly smaller boy, until Severus drew himself up on his knees to let Lucius turn around, still kissing him. "Did you suffer through dinner?"

"Horribly," Lucius sighed against his mouth. "Awfully. Madly. I ache, Sevvie..."

"Is it bad to ache?" It felt more like a gnawing, like his stomach felt sometimes when he needed to eat. "I want to play, like we did that time Nordstrom complained so loudly..."

Just the thought of it made Lucius groan. He'd never forgotten that, the way that his fingers had caressed over Severus's answering hardness, slithered back to slide inside the pretty dark-haired boy and make him sob. "Oh, Sev. Don't. Don't say things like that, or I can't be responsible for what you make me do!"

"What if I want that? Then you wouldn't be responsible." Severus shifted a little, to sit atop Lucius's thighs, looking down at his friend. He leaned forwards almost right away, plastering himself comfortably to Lucius's slightly bigger body. "I've read that book, ten, eleven times now, Lucius..."

"Sevvie..." It was said gently, hands coming up to his shoulders, running down his back. "Sevvie, if I did, it might hurt you. You know that. You're so young, you're too young..."

"I'm almost thirteen," Severus told him hopefully. "You told me at the beginning of the school year to wait a year..." Hands on his back, touching sweetly, softly, were things he had long ago decided he'd never get used to. Other boys, surely, were more used to casual touch, or even sensual touch that wasn't their own. He only had Lucius, and it was hard to get enough of it when they were sneaking moments between, before, and after classes and reading.

"But..." It was only token protest, he could tell, Lucius's hands sliding down his back to clasp loosely at the other boy's hips, fingers spreading out slightly to reach more of his skin. "All right, Sev. If you think you know what you're getting into..." It was obvious that Lucius thought he did.

"I trust you." Severus whispered that against Lucius's skin, against his chest as he kissed there. "I want to try it. I'm curious -- that one time we almost did felt so good."

"You liked it..? When I touched you here...?" Those fingers slid further back, parting Severus, finding the tiny hole there that he remembered touching short weeks ago. "You want me to do it again...?" They were questions, but they weren't really asking anything. More, they were teasing at Severus's mind, Lucius's pale skin flushed, and his erection was solidly pressed against Severus's own where he lay.

"You just want to hear me say 'yes' to you." Severus's tease was vague, as he squirmed forwards against Lucius's cock and stomach. The press of one finger was enough to make his heart flutter, more with anticipation than fear.

"Tell me yes," Lucius agreed, voice breaking slightly with excitement as he gave pressure, that teasing fingertip so close to being inside of Severus. "Tell me it's what you want, Sevvie..."

"It's what I want -- yes, Lucius. Yes. I trust you..." 'I'll follow you anywhere, do whatever you tell me to' was implicit in those three simple words, in the way that Severus's fingers clutched at Lucius's shoulders.

"Here..." It was said tenderly, and that finger slid into him slowly, achingly, dry. "Here, Sevvie. Oh, God, you feel good, I can just imagine..."

The friction was eased only by the warmth of his own body, the humid dampness that clung to him a little. It tickled like it had before, and Lucius's fingernail scraped ever so slightly within him. Everything, every little twitch of Lucius's delicate finger, seemed amplified from being pressed inside of him. And Severus made no attempt to disguise how it felt, no attempt to muffle the soft mewling whine that left his throat. "Ohhh..."

"Tell me you like it..." Lucius loved words, loved to hear him talk, and he was kissing Severus again now, kissing him almost desperately as his finger teased, pried, sought out the funny little spot that Severus liked so much. "Let me know it, Sev..."

He felt a tiny lump beneath his finger, one that made Severus tense and press more heatedly against him. "There -- do that again, Lucius, it feels better than anything..."

"Anything...?" Lucius was such a tease. Still, he did it again, rubbing tenderly against that nub as he nibbled little sounds from Severus's lips. "Oh, Sevvie. You make me want so much..."

"You're making me want..." His heart was zipping along at a beat that mice would have trouble matching, and his fingers curled again, tightly, into Lucius's shoulders. The other boy felt a peculiar huff of breath against his mouth, and Severus tilted his hips back, lifting his bottom against Lucius's finger. The motion drove it deeper, and for a moment, it almost hurt, but then it was gone and Lucius was shifting him, pressing him down onto his back.

"Just a moment," the older boy promised, crawling halfway over him to reach into the night stand, searching for something. "Ah-ha!"

Severus stretched a little, as if that would rid him of the ache of Lucius's too-quick withdrawal. It felt so good within him, an ache that made his cock ooze just thinking about it. "What're you looking for?" He turned his head a little to look at Lucius, while one hand slipped down to his groin to feel over his own erection.

"This," Lucius said triumphantly, holding up a little tube of hand cream. "This will make it easier. You ached last time, didn't you?" Fingers lightly pushed away Severus's hand. "Don't touch. It's mine."

Severus smiled up at Lucius, and let his hand drop the lay atop the sheets. "Don't neglect that, then..." Hand-cream made sense, though his book had talked of potions to be used, and spells... More complicated things, Severus decided, to be used when they weren't on holiday and banned from using magic.

Lucius kissed him again, the feel of it heated and strangely tender as the pale boy pressed atop the length of him. "One last time. Are you certain?"

Beneath him, Severus wriggled, a shift of hip and butt that pressed him closer against Lucius. "I'm certain I want it from you, Lucius..."

That seemed to be all the information that Lucius needed, and fingers now coated in lotion slid between his legs, past faintly fuzzed balls to tease again at the tiny aperture where only one had rested previously. "Now..." he whispered as two slid inside of his cousin, his tongue lapping out to swipe across Severus's lips.

It hurt again, ached a bit too much, but his body didn't take it properly. Severus wanted, discomfort or not, and he was going to have. His arms caught around Lucius's neck and shoulders, body bowing up to get closer to him. No more words, but a soft moan, as he eagerly pulled Lucius's tongue into his mouth.

The suction he gave was joined by a deep nudge that made him moan again. Lucius's wrist pressed to his throbbing flesh, the pale blond's cock rocking steadily against his thigh, and those fingers... Oh, those fingers...

There was nothing in that book about fingers -- simple things that were used for eating, or touching, or writing -- feeling so good when pressed inside of his body. It felt less raw, now that they were slicked, and they twisted with ease that he'd come to expect in everything Lucius did. "More," he begged softly, breaking the kiss with a ragged pant. "It feels so good..." As if he were teetering on some brink.

"More...?" Oh, Lucius was a tease, a horrible, deliberate tease. "What sort of more do you want, Sevvie. Tell me what you want and you know I'll give it to you. I'd give you anything..."

If he teased any longer, Severus was just going to give up and hump his wrist. For the moment, a stab of fingers made him moan again, shaking as he clung closer to Lucius. "Your cock -- I want your cock in me, instead of your fingers."

Lucius asked no questions; he didn't make certain that Severus was absolutely sure, didn't wait any longer. Instead, he reached for that cream again, slicked it over his own flesh. "If it hurts," he whispered, "tell me, Sevvie. I don't know if I'll be able to stop, but tell me..." He almost seemed to glow in the shadowy room, throwing off sparks of pure excitement, of sex, of something delicious and dark and needful.

As demanding as he was, Severus craved that need. Want was need for Veela, and to be needed was to be wanted by his best friend, for something only they did together, something special that was just and only them. Severus shifted, legs akimbo for his friend, waiting. "I'll tell you. I promise, I will."

"Be still, Sevvie," Lucius whispered, hips dipping downward. Severus could feel the throb of flesh lightly probing, searching, and then there was pressure against him, pushing against that tiny hole. It felt as if Lucius was parting him, with a slick blunt weapon, gently at first, then harder, until the slight squirm he gave was unsureness, unease. Maybe it wasn't going to fit, to work yet, and he'd been wrong about being ready for it...

Then Lucius was in, and Severus was sure that the sob that filled the room was his own, startled noise.

"Shhhh." It was a sound barely gasped out as Lucius grasped his suddenly fumbling hands, pressing his wrists down to the mattress as he slid all the way inside, deep. "Hush, Sevvie, hush, not so loud... Not so loud!"

He almost asked why not to be so loud, but the thought failed him as he struggled slightly against the grasp of Lucius's hands on his wrists. "It hurts, Lucius..." His complaint shivered free with hitched breaths. He felt split in two, as if Lucius was buried so deep in him that he'd be stuck.

"Oh, God," Lucius moaned against his shoulder, leaning up to kiss him tenderly, sweetly. Severus could feel him shaking violently against him. "Sevvie, please. Please don't say it hurts. Please..." He wanted so much, so desperately, and it was so very obvious.

"It... it doesn't hurt," he lied, still shaking as he slipped his hands free from Lucius's pinning hands, to cling to the other boy. "It's only... o-only a lot..."

"It will get better," the blond promised him, shifting minutely and moaning, mouth moving slowly in a trail up Severus's throat. "It will get better. I promise. Tell me when it gets better. I'll try not to move much..."

Every slight twitch of movement Lucius gave was something else to make him ache a little, and ache, and ache; kisses to his mouth, neck, wherever Lucius could reach, were slowly counteracting that odd ache, slowly bringing his erection back to life. And after a few more whimpers, he shifted against Lucius, back towards the other boy's groin.

"Do you want me to move?" It was a shaky whisper, barely heard, almost nothing more than a breath. The tension in Lucius was felt in every line, in the way he pressed tight to Severus and shook.

"A little," Severus whispered back. "Just some. It still... only a little." He'd almost said hurt, but stopped himself in time.

"I love you, Sevvie," Lucius breathed, shifting in him, pulling back just a little and pushing forward again. "Oh, Merlin. You feel so good, Sevvie. It feels so good..."

That edgy movement brushed, just faintly, that spot within him. "Ohhh... Lucius, do that again, please..." It was starting to feel like being tickled in some obscure place, even if it still hurt at the very point that Lucius was in him. Almost a bit like using the loo, but backwards. "Want you... my friend. Mine." Hands clutched again, keeping them close as motion picked up again.

"Yours," Lucius agreed, beginning to shift his hips with a slightly deeper flexion, stealing Severus's mouth to kiss him breathlessly. "God, fuck, yes, Sevvie... Oh, Merlin, so tight. So hot. I think, oh, I think it's too good, it's..."

"Touch me, Luc, get it right... oh, right there!" Another shortened motion hit that spot again, rasping just over that point. It sent a pulse through his cock, and a glob of fluid streaked against Lucius's stomach when Severus arched tightly against him.

"Can I move more?" Lucius panted, struggling not to simply ignore Severus's wants. He needed to push deep and hard and quick, and oh, it was so hard not to just do it..

"Yes!" Another mewl of noise from the boy beneath Lucius. One long leg, bent at the knee, curled against Lucius's thigh in a sad, hazy attempt for more touch between them. "Move, move, please don't tease..."

Blatant permission, then, and Lucius gave a strangled cry in response to it, pulling almost all the way out of him and slamming back in deeply. There wasn't any thought outside of pushing himself as deeply into Severus as he could get, and he wrapped his arms about the other boy's thin chest, shuddering against him. "God. Fuck. Sev. Oh... Yes, I..."

It overwhelmed him entirely. One moment it was two bodies, struggling together to find a rhythm, the next, Severus was caught in it, drowning in Lucius's intensity, his powerful thrusts. There wasn't an ache, or pain -- just frantic breathing, his cock jutting and rubbing against Lucius's stomach as they clung together. His voice, babbling incoherently, in Lucius's ear, gave words that only encouraged the other boy to move in him harder, deeper, almost recklessly.

"Sev... Sevvie... Oh, God, oh, God, oh..." Lucius knew he wouldn't last much longer, the entirety of his body devoted to snapping deep into Severus, and his arms tightened around the dark-haired boy desperately. "Please, God, Sevvie, yes!"

Swallowed up and crushed, a fleeting fear that died when his hips jerked up again, of their own will -- one more step in the wave that had carried him away. Then he was crying out, sobbing, moaning, when an orgasm hit him that wasn't like anything he'd felt before. His hand couldn't come close, or Lucius's hand. It was a shaking moment without thought, as he spurted thin, ropey strands of semen against Lucius's stomach.

The resulting shudders that worked through him seemed to set Lucius off, as well, for several short thrusts later, Severus found himself full to brimming with the oddest wetness, Lucius quivering over him. "Sev..." It seemed to be the only thing he could think to say. "Oh, Sev..."

His thin arms clung still, and the dark-haired boy remained oddly quiet as he continued to hold on to Lucius. It had certainly felt good, holistically. There were parts that would take getting used to, of course, but he was willing to get used to them for Lucius's sake. Black eyes fixed on Lucius's face, still a little damp. He licked his bottom lip, then murmured, "That was better than the book said it was."

Lucius gave a little laugh, shivering against him. "Ohhh, it was..." He was almost purring with the pleasure of it, and his skin still seemed to glow, giving off a faint light of its own in response to the sheer gratification singing in his veins. "It was better than anything."

"I think it was," Severus agreed after a moment of thought. He shifted a little, stretching his toes, and gave a surprised whimper when he felt Lucius's cock slip out of him.

"Did I hurt you awfully?" Lucius asked him, startled slightly by that sound. "I didn't mean to, Sev..."

Severus shook his head slightly. "That just felt funny. Otherwise..." He grinned a little, despite already closing his eyes sleepily. "I'm not sure I like feeling wet inside. But it was good, worth being sore."

"We can do it again, then?" Lucius asked him, and the sound seemed just a little urgent.

"Yes." No hesitation at all, because Severus had no fear of any long-term repercussions. He wasn't hurt, it had felt good, and Lucius was happy. There was nothing else to think about, past being a bit overheated, and comfortable in Lucius's arms.

"Soon," Lucius whispered, and kissed him once more. "Very, very soon."

One long, lean leg slipped up, knee pressing against Lucius's back as Severus pulled him closer atop him. "Tomorrow, soon as we can." That trailed off into a soft yawn, and Severus snugged himself comfortably into the pillows.

"That sounds perfect," Lucius agreed, and kissed him one last time. Soon, the only sound that remained in the room was that of their deep, tired breathing.

---

"Sev, tea is in fifteen minutes..." It was a half-hearted protest at best, encouragement at worst. They were now only a handful of days away from returning to school, and neither of them really wanted to stop what they'd spent the entire summer doing.

"So?" Severus shifted where he sat. The summer was long and enjoyable for them both, a mixture of running around outside and flying brooms, reading and finishing summer assignments, and satisfying Lucius's wants. Wants that had, slowly and surely, become his own as much as Lucius's. So there he sat, astride Lucius's lap, a book between them, and one hand over Lucius's groin. "Tell me the ingredients of the potion I just named."

"I can't think when you've got your hand on my cock, Sevvie," Lucius muttered, glaring at him. Severus knew it didn't mean anything, that look, except that maybe he'd be flat on his back and screwed senseless in a moment. "Father's got company coming..." That didn't stop Lucius's fingers from tugging at Severus's robes, though.

"Maybe... this is a bad way to study," Severus decided half-heartedly, pressing the book against Lucius's chest for a moment. "Maybe? Ohhh, touch me there, Lucius... This morning was too quick."

"Mother won't mind if we do it during tea..." Lucius decided, stroking him carefully, fingers giving just the amount of pressure that Severus liked best. "Hmm..."

Weeks of practice at the acts had made Severus so much more assured as to what he was doing, and what he liked. There was always a twist, though, like the twenty minute he'd already spent sitting on Lucius's lap, dragging school-book answers from him. Now he let the book slip to the floor beside their chair at last, and leaned forwards to kiss his best friend with reassuring force. "We were studying, remember?"

"Bother studying," Lucius whispered, tugging Severus down so that they were pressed tightly groin to groin. "We can study afterwards..."

"My goodness, Lucius. I know how terrible it is to attempt controlling oneself at your age, but surely you might try," Porrima said from the doorway, vaguely amused. "You know your Father is expecting guests, and I'm sure they would love to meet our dear Severus, as his parents were so close to many of them. I am certain Arioch would prefer that the two of you not smell like sex."

Severus didn't seem to have the sense, in the face of Porrima lingering in the doorway, to actually feel shame or guilt over being caught. Or modesty, though he groaned quietly against Lucius's mouth, and buttoned his clothes. "Sorry, Aunt Porrima..." He had to button his clothes, and straighten Lucius's, or else they'd never stop and go to tea. One more careless kiss, and he slid off of Lucius's lap, looking a bit flustered that he'd had to stop, but he certainly didn't look like he wanted to sink into the leather of their shared chair like Lucius did.

"My entire brain is on fire," Lucius moaned, looking at Severus longingly. "Does it always hurt so much to stop, Mother?"

She laughed softly, the eyes that were so much like Lucius's wide with happiness, amusement. "I think perhaps it is worse at your age than at mine. It is never pleasant," she mused, "but eventually, it becomes better. Somewhat..."

"After the guests are gone..." Severus's voice trailed off in quiet, eager promise, as he reached to take Lucius's hand and tug on him. His own erection would fade, or perhaps linger and bother him, but it couldn't compare to what he guessed Lucius was feeling.

"They'll stay forever," Lucius muttered, rising with Severus's help. "Not even a little, Mother? Surely we could take time for a quick bath..."

"Baths with you are never quick," his mother replied not quite sternly. "You would never make it back downstairs."

"Your mother is very right," Severus agreed, tugging at Lucius's hand again. "Let's just go? Then, if we've met them, we can leave when they're bored of saying hello."

"Not with these guests," Lucius grumbled, shaking his head. "Let's go, then. Perhaps it'll be gotten over with more quickly than usual. Several of these men knew your parents, Severus."

"They were their friends...?" Severus asked for clarification as he dragged Lucius past Porrima, who made an amused sound and closed the library door behind them. It would be nice, he decided, if he could meet people who knew his family, and weren't family. Open up the sphere of his world a little...

"Mmm, sort of. Sevvie, don't be surprised by anything you hear. I'll explain it all later," Lucius said, sucking momentarily on his own upper lip.

"What'll I hear?" Severus was still dragging Lucius along, with his friend's hand caught in his still. Odd, for Lucius to sound worried about anything.

"They're devoted to the Dark Lord, Sev," Lucius whispered, his mother not far behind them. "You never know just what you'll hear with them."

"The Dark Lord is--" Severus cut himself short before he actually said anything else. A dark wizard, and these were the people who worked with Him to wreak so much havoc -- havoc that had never touched him, personally, for whatever reason. It wasn't like he and Grandfather were muggle-lovers. Nor Lucius and his parents. "Are, I mean, were, my parents that?"

"Mmm," Lucius agreed. "Both of them were very devoted to the Cause, Severus, as you and I should be one day. It isn't right that pure blood doesn't count for more, that ridiculous Mudbloods like those Gryffindors are allowed to pick on better people, better students, like you. It shouldn't happen."

Severus almost said that being part Veela wasn't exactly pure, but it was certainly an admirable bloodline -- and he didn't care much for bloodlines, since he knew next to nothing about his own, and only knew that he didn't care what Lucius had in him. But... the idea that the Gryffindors shouldn't be allowed to get away with what they did, Severus liked. He nodded a bit, more to that part than any other. "I didn't know there was a cause. I thought it was just a bunch of people running around killing muggles..."

"That would be a senseless waste of human life, I should think," Lucius replied thoughtfully. "No, it's rather a necessity. Most of the muggles killed are Mudblood kin, and it's necessary to make sure that wild magic doesn't keep occurring amongst the Muggles. Think of it as population control," Lucius told him firmly, nodding. "You'd kill an animal if it was deformed in some way, wouldn't you? To put it out of its misery," he reasoned. "This is hardly different."

"So..." Severus looked at the other boy thoughtfully, as Porrima herded the two, who were still holding hands, into the tea-room. "So, it's to stop them from passing it on?"

"Just so," Lucius agreed quietly before going silent.

"Ah, boys. Come in. There are several gentlemen who would like to meet you, Severus," Arioch greeted them.

Severus entered a step behind Lucius, peering at his 'uncle' first, and then the men who were in the room with him. It was strange, because the air felt thick, like it sometimes did in the headmaster's office when Fawkes had been flapping around. Thick, heavy, dripping with... yes, dripping with magic, Severus decided as he looked at them all. It was hard to keep his curiosity off of his face, as he gave them a placid, "Good afternoon, sirs."

"Good afternoon, boy." Green eyes gleamed at him, dark and tinged around the iris with some other color that was hidden by dark bangs. "You're the Snape child, I understand."

"Yes, sir -- my name is Severus," he answered the man, fingers letting go of Lucius's after a slight squeeze. There was power in those green eyes, too, and it drew his curiosity. He wanted to brush those dark bangs out of the man's face to see what color his eyes really were, but that would've been most rude, considering that the man didn't even have a name yet.

"You seem an acceptable boy. Sabina and Penumbrus would undoubtedly have been proud of you. I hear from young Lucius that you are quite brilliant in potions work," the man continued, and all of the other occupants of the room seemed to pay every ounce of their attention to him as he spoke.

"Yes, sir," Severus agreed, looking up at the man a bit raptly. No reason for him to be humble about what was true, about what everyone knew was true. "I've the top marks for my grade, probably for the whole school, in Potions. And I know all sorts of spells that make the headmaster uneasy. He says I oughtn't know them, and shouldn't use them ever."

"That's a very good boy," the man praised with an almost hair-rising smile, turning his eyes to Lucius. "And you, boy?"

"Top of my class," Lucius said firmly. "And in every class. The only one who's better at me in anything is Severus. He's a potions genius. I don't mind," he decided, "as this makes for interesting independent research."

"Which is what the boys have been trying to do this summer," Porrima told the man in a most respectful tone, as she poured tea for him. No servants were even in the room, Severus noted silently. Then again, it was a Dark Wizard's tea. No servants probably wanted to be there.

"I haven't fixed my herb-drying techniques well enough, yet," Severus murmured, a half-excuse for how much he and Lucius's sexual play had gotten in the way of anything practical.

The man, surely someone of great importance considering the reactions of those around him, gave a cool smile. "Of course. And this has nothing to do with the fact that your companion is Veela and entering heat. No, no, you're young yet. It merely amuses me," he assured them, one brow raised. "Schooling is important, however, and perhaps you should apply yourselves a bit more fervently."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius said politely, bowing from the waist. "We will do as you suggest."

Severus eyed Lucius for a moment, then looked curiously back at the man. 'My Lord'? "I'm sorry, sir, but I haven't your name, or any idea of who you are. Forgive me if I'm being rude."

"I am Lord Voldemort," the man informed him, and the words were quite enough to send a thrill of cool dread through him, dancing along his skin.

The Dark Wizard. The Darkest of dark wizards that was alive, the one that the papers nattered on skittishly about... Severus swallowed, letting that faint dread sink into his bones as he looked up at him. Not fear, but a simple, pervading sense that this was a turning point in his life, for good or for bad.

The Dark Lord had just told him to apply himself more in school.

"Ah." That soft noise was all Severus could manage, though he stood as firm as before, still looking up at him with curiosity.

"Yes, Severus?" It seemed that the man was willing to answer whatever it was that Severus had on his mind. Lucius's elbow in his side didn't prevent the dark-haired boy's curiosity, either.

"It's only that you don't seem evil," Severus said after a moment of unsure pause. "Not the way you're whispered about in school."

"Perhaps, then, they are lying to you about me." The answer was almost -- almost! -- gentle. "They do not want you to hear what I truly believe, or what is truly going on in the world. Young Lucius here, he has not explained this to you?"

Severus shook his head, but added, "I haven't asked, because I didn't know..." What exactly to ask. It was a great deal to take in, and Severus knew he'd spend a lot of that night, once Lucius was asleep, staring at the ceiling in thought.

"Lucius..."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Why have you not yet explained these things to Severus?"

"He was living with his grandfather until very recently, my Lord. I didn't want to make life difficult for him before he was settled in at the Manor. My greatest apologies," Lucius murmured, even more pale than he would ordinarily be.

"His words are true, My Lord," Arioch murmured, from where he reclined nearby. "It has been a little difficult to settle young Severus into normal routines in these past few weeks that we've had."

"Of course," Voldemort said. "Lucius, I expect you to speak to Severus before I see you again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius answered, head bowed.

"Very good. You are both dismissed." There was some small amusement in his gaze, in his words. "I'm sure you are... anxious to be alone to... discuss matters."

Severus spent a moment more looking at the powerful feeling man, a moment more than he should have. Then he smiled a little, and replied, "I'll do my best with this new change of perspective, sir."

"Most wise of you, young Snape. We will undoubtedly see one another again." A languid wave of Voldemort's hand let them know to go, and Lucius turned obediently enough to do so, knowing that Severus would follow him.

Severus turned, and trailed his friend with a slightly puppy-doggish air about him. Once the door was closed, he murmured, "That was interesting, Lucius."

The blond gave a deep sigh, as if he'd been awfully nervous, and continued hurriedly down the hall, back towards the library. "Yes. I think it went over rather well. You made a good impression, Sev..."

"Did I? I think I looked rather stupid," Severus mused softly. "After all, I didn't even know his name, and it seems like that should've been obvious to me, looking back."

"Trust me," Lucius said, and he smiled once they were back in the library. "Now, where were we...?"

"I want you to tell me about all of that back there, first," Severus wheedled, closing the door. "I don't want to play when there're things that need answers."

"It's just what I was telling you," Lucius replied. "It's for their own good, really. What sorts of questions do you have, Sev?"

"Why didn't Grandfather ever tell me what my parents were?" Severus wandered away a little, as Lucius sank into the chair of before. "That's rather something large to ignore."

"I think he was ashamed that they had died," Lucius decided. "I can't imagine that he would be ashamed of the cause. He was a pure blood. Of course, your grandfather was in Ravenclaw, wasn't he?" When Severus nodded, he continued. "Ravenclaws have strange ideas sometimes."

"They read a lot, and research..." Severus trailed off. "I do, too, but it's dull to just research for the sake of doing it. Things ought to come out of what you do."

"Precisely!" Lucius agreed. "That's all part of what Lord Voldemort wants. To be able to do the magic we research, to be free to use it, and not to have those filthy Mudbloods holding us down all of the time."

"But, the headmaster isn't a Mudblood," Severus countered. "And he doesn't think we should do everything that we learn."

"He's sympathetic to them, though, isn't he?" Lucius pointed out. "He prefers them to our kind, gives all kinds of commendations to them, especially those Gryffindors..."

All kinds of commendations... well, that was true, blindingly so -- but he gave them out to everyone, even if it was in smaller amounts. "I still like him," Severus said softly, as he wandered back towards Lucius and the comfortable chair. "He's helped me more than Professor Hecate ever has."

As much as Lucius wanted to say something, to make sure that Dumbledore would never be viewed by Severus as a friend again, he knew that he would have to step carefully. "Just be wary, Sevvie," he warned gently. "I don't want you getting hurt. That's all."

"I'm always wary," Severus reminded him, slipped, after a moment, to sit atop the other boy's lap once more. He was halfway to his drifting, thinking place, but Lucius could pull him from it if he wanted to badly enough. "The headmaster wouldn't hurt me -- and you remember that book on potions myths that I wanted to check out so badly, that Professor Hecate yelled at me for even asking about? He gave me the slip for it..."

Lucius sighed slightly. "I don't want you hurt, but you will do what you want, won't you, Sev? Come here and kiss me. Make it better," he urged.

"I like to learn things on my own," Severus agreed softly, squirming nearer atop Lucius. "Tomorrow I'm going to ask you about everything you can tell me about those people in there. Now I know what sort of questions to ask."

"I'll answer them all," Lucius promised, and further conversation was promptly lost in his kiss.

To hell with tea.

"You know, Sev," Lucius murmured as they wandered towards the Slytherin dungeons from the Great Hall, "you have a really nice ass when you walk that way." His robes were lifted, Lucius peeking beneath them.

Severus twisted around, hands batting Lucius's fingers away from his clothes. Thank Merlin for wearing trousers beneath them, or else anyone who'd been looking their way from the Great Hall would've had a peek at his ass. "Can't you wait until we get back to our room, Lucius?"

"Hmmmm," the blond sighed thoughtfully. "It'll be a very close thing. I might manage to make it to the common room... if we hurry."

"We can slip down to our niche..." He fell back a little, to walk side by side with his friend. A hand on Lucius's arm proved that he did feel warmer than usual, though he could probably make it to their room. Still, if Lucius wanted... Severus had no reason to deny.

"I don't know if I want to wait that long," Lucius drawled teasingly. It was true. He didn't want to wait! He'd not denied himself all summer long, and it had certainly become difficult to try and do so anymore. "I want what I want when I want it."

"Hmn, you have gone all day without haven't you? That makes you a brave, strong man I suppose," Severus smirked a little, squeezing Lucius's arm. "I'll race you there -- then it'll go quicker. Bet you can't catch me!" He let go of his friend's arm, and started to run off down the hall.

The echoes of their footsteps and laughter rang along the stone walls as they hurried downward until Lucius finally caught him in a side hall, pushing him up against the wall. "I caught you!" he panted, chuckling as he slid his hands inside Severus's robes.

"Unjust!" Severus panted, laughing just a little as he leaned his head back against the wall. "So, what will you do to me now that I've been caught?"

"Hmmmm," Lucius said as if thinking about it. "Now that you're my prisoner..."

"Prisoner?" Severus laughed. The idea was... just one more of their games together, a strange, enticing idea. As if Lucius could make him a prisoner.

"Yes, prisoner. I think I shall... punish you!" was the gleeful exclamation. 'Punishment' obviously involved a great deal of tickling in all of the absolute worst spots for it, namely where they tickled the most.

Lucius's fingers had wormed their way under his robes and up under his shirt, tickling just perfectly at his sides; Severus tried to get away, pushing a little and laughing until he curled forwards against Lucius. "Please, please, stop! I surrender, hah hah, please, Lucius..."

"Mmmm, let's see. Now that you've surrendered, I get to demand concessions from you, don't I?" his cousin teased, warm breath stealing past his ear even as Lucius slipped his hands further down Severus's back, stealing into the waistband of his slacks.

"And if I'm unwilling?" Which from the way he pressed back to Lucius's hands was a completely hypothetical question. Lucius's fingers were always so warm on his skin, and the way the other boy would clutch at him made his cock twitch and throb to life.

"Then I'll just...." There came a pause as Lucius pressed against him, kissed him hungrily, almost gnawing at his lips with sheer fervor. "...have to take you unwilling, Sevvie."

"Uhhm, but I've a liking to the way you do things." Severus purred that, giving a ragged pant of breath as he pressed against Lucius's hands so that they were caught between the wall behind him, and his backside. "Right here?"

"Oh, yes," Lucius groaned. "Right here!"

"Uhuhuhm." The very loud sound of a throat clearing came from behind them. "Mister Snape. Mister Malfoy. It really is rather inappropriate to be doing such things in the hallways. Ten points from Slytherin House! Each!"

It was a pity that Severus had already started to hitch down his slacks. "Professor McGonagall..." He looked right at her, warm-faced and flustered looking from laughter and their kissing. Ten points each? Outrageous!

"For being improperly dressed in the halls," she said sternly, cheeks stained with mortification. "Really, boys!!"

"Well, ma'am, you see," Lucius told her with a straight face, "Severus squealed that a mouse had run up his trouser leg. I was only trying to help him, Professor."

McGonagall's sharp-eyed gaze fell upon him. "Five more points," she said grudgingly, "for such an immensely entertaining lie, Mr. Malfoy. Now please. Go along with you to your own dorm!"

She would've taken ten if she'd known how much Severus liked mice in general, and how unwavering he was towards all sorts of creeping, crawling, disgusting creatures. Severus shifted a little, still leaned close against lucius, and kissed his cousin warmly on the mouth. "Come on -- let's go."

"Preferably before you get caught again," Minerva agreed with an impatient sigh.

"Mmmm," Lucius said, though he really wanted to stay and do it right there in the hall. "We're going, we're going. Yes ma'am..."

Severus shifted away a bit at last, and his fingers fumbled closed the front of his slacks, shirt hopelessly untucked. Lucius had no right to get him so riled up when they couldn't yet -- sometimes the Veela was just as teasing about sex as Severus was to him. "Uhm."

"Yes. Well," McGonagall said sternly. "Hurry along." It was rather obvious that she was going to watch them all the way back to the dungeons!

Lucius's fingers were caught in Severus's rather uncaringly, and he started off down the hall without bothering to even look at the Gryffindor professor again. "Does this mean I've been uncaught, Lucius?"

"Only for the moment," Lucius promised him with a little leer, nudging him towards their secret place, down a long hallway. "Just for now."

"I'd hate to be set free." Severus couldn't leer the way the other boy did, but he could smirk a tiny bit, and nudge their clasped hands to brush Lucius's backside rather firmly.

"Taunting your captor, Sevvie?" Lucius asked with a visible look of lust. "Mmm, that's never a good idea...." In fact, if the dark-haired Slytherin kept it up, Lucius was going to jump him. Hard.

Severus rubbed Lucius's bottom, in a small circle motion. "But what if I want to?"

"Then maybe you'd better be careful for what you wish!" the blond growled, and promptly jumped him again, this time being careful to push him into a bit of a hole in the wall, a little opening in the stone that seemed perfect for just this purpose.

Severus let out a muffled laugh as his back touched stone again. The Slytherin part of the school had so many little hide-aways, probably for just the purpose that he and Lucius were putting it to use. "Will you fuck me here?" he panted.

"So hard you'll see stars!" Lucius snarled, already stripping away his clothing again.

"MISTER MALFOY!!!"

Oh, he couldn't be hearing that voice again. Not again, not when all he wanted so badly was to just wrap himself around Lucius and feel him. They'd managed to start shoving aside robes, hitching up shirt and down pants when Severus heard McGonagall's voice crack into the haze of want.

"TWENTY POINTS! GET BACK TO YOUR DORMITORY!!!!"

In Lucius's imagination, McGonagall became a flaming demon, horns and all, and he had to try desperately not to snicker at the notion of the muggle-lover bellowing at the two of them. "Professor...."

"NOOOOOW!!!!!"

Severus's fingers rubbed at the sides of Lucius's hips a little, under robes and shoved beneath slacks, and he didn't pull back yet. "Don't yell so... we're going."

"So you say, Mr. Snape, but I don't see either of you moving! Detention! For both of you!" She paused, and for a moment, they both feared she was just mean enough to give it to them that very night. "Tomorrow!"

Groaning, Severus tried to nudge himself out of the niche -- which was hard to do with Lucius's warm body still pressed against him. "But why...?"

Why seemed like a good question to Lucius. "We aren't bothering anyone, no one's going to come by..."

"Oh, really?" McGonagall's foot was tapping, never a good sign. "I came by. And the reason why is because it is against the rules! Now, go to your dormitory and don't question me further!"

"But the headmaster doesn't mind..." Severus pressed at Lucius again, finally backing both of them into the hallway -- making their state of disarray and arousal very clear.

"The headmaster," they were clearly informed, "does not want you fornicating in public!"

"Fornicating in public doesn't sound so bad," Lucius muttered under his breath.

"One more smart remark and both of you will bend and place your hands on the floor and be smacked!" McGonagall warned them.

"That's too much trouble," Severus remarked smoothly, tugging at Lucius a little to get him moving again. Never mind that his hands were still almost entirely down the other boy's pants. "We'll fornicate in semi-private, Professor."

Even Lucius's eyes widened at the next bellow. "BEND OVER!!!!"

"Er, we'd really rather not, Professor," he said nervously. He remembered hearing some tale about one of the red-haired Gryffindor Weasleys getting caught out with his girlfriend and being caned for it. It really made his hair almost stand on end... well, it might have if it wasn't firmly plastered to his head most of the time.

"We're going," Severus protested quietly, sounding and feeling quite offended at her snarl. Perhaps if they simply moved she'd leave them be -- and with that, he tugged at Lucius again, and started to walk away backwards, his older cousin in tow.

"I did not say you could go, Mr. Snape. I said Bend Over. And don't make me call Mr. Filch!"

"Right here in the hallway?" Severus asked, halting a little. "But, that's worse than what we were going to do..."

"I warned you, Mr. Snape," McGonagall informed most sternly. "Over!"

"It doesn't seem to make sense," Severus muttered as he slipped free of Lucius entirely. "You can't be serious."

"I've never been smacked before," Lucius announced, and the nervousness in his voice couldn't really be hidden.

"If I have to repeat myself one more time, gentlemen, it will be fifteen smacks instead of ten!" Sternly voiced, it was quite enough to make them both shiver.


"Oh, Merlin." Severus's voice was a soft, frustrated sounding mutter, and he did just what he'd been told, bending over to place his hands on the floor.

"Severus," Lucius muttered just loud enough for his cousin to hear, "has anyone ever smacked you before?"

"Not that I can recall..." Severus peeked over to his cousin, who was bent just as he was.

"Well, gentlemen, I assure you that all of that is about to change," they were informed, the tinge of magic suddenly in the air.

"She's going to smack us with magic?" Lucius gulped.

"Why would she use a hand...?" Severus smirked at Lucius a little, as if he were a bit slow -- but the smirk faded in a gasp of shock as the first blow pelted hard against his bottom.

"Why," McGonagall said, "Would I use anything less than a tawse, gentlemen? I assure you, the tawse has made worse boys than the two of you into firm believers in behaving!"

The next smack was Lucius's and he gasped. "OW!"

"We're only.... being ourse-selves," Severus stammered, voice cracking hard at the next blow.

"Be that as it may. Nakedness and licentiousness in these hallowed halls have..." A spank was firmly delivered to Lucius. "....no...." Another was given to Severus. "...place!" And another was granted the blond.

"Oh!" Lucius panted.

"You're an old prune!" Severus rallied after a choked noise cut through his voice at the next strike.

"And that's eleven smacks for you, Mr. Snape," he was almost cheerfully informed as she brought the tawse down on his bottom again.

"Oh, Merlin," Lucius hissed prayerfully.

"Stop..." Lucius could almost feel it from Severus, as he clutched his narrow fingers against the stones so near, a slow, steady buildup of something.

"Are you going to be smart again?" McGonagall asked them, delivering a sixth blow.

"No!" Lucius swore, though they all knew it was a lie.

"N-n..." Severus's fingers twitched, his wand slipping out of his robe and partly into his fingers' grasp.

"Don't even think about it," he was firmly warned as she laid in the seventh spank.

"Cr... cr...." His bit his bottom lip tightly, and simply started to thank Merlin that he'd worn his heavy slacks that day

The last spanks fell with a thankful quickness, eight and nine and ten, and then an eleventh that came quite firmly just for Severus. "Now, then," McGonagall said, banishing the instrument quickly. "Don't let me catch you again!"

"We won't!" Lucius agreed, shuddering. "May we stand up now?"

"Yes."

Severus stumbled forwards a little, glaring back over his shoulder at her. He should have cast that Crucio -- would've served her right. On the other hand, he didn't suppose he wanted to be expelled...

"May we go now?" Lucius asked shakily.

"Directly back to your dormitory," McGonagall agreed. "Scat!"

Still chewing on his bottom lip, Severus caught Lucius's hand in unhappy possession, and started to drag his cousin quickly off down the hallway. His bottom hurt, and as soon as they got back to the dorm, he was going to do something about it.

"Sevvie," Lucius whispered as they hurried along, his face flushed most deliciously. "I'm going to fuck you stupid once we're in our room."

"Can't it wait a bit? I hurt, and I've no... no liking of that." He wasn't going to dare look over his shoulder again, and acknowledge that he swore he heard small cat feet following them as they went.

"I can't wait," Lucius declared, and tugged him all the faster. "That's only made it worse. Come on!"

"Oh, at least wank off while I try to heal what McGonner-gal just did," Severus whined very faintly. They went down, past the third year dorm and towards the munching stairs. Maybe that'd get the animagus. Mangy thing.

"Well, I'll think about it," Lucius said, but Severus knew what that meant.

It was already thought of, already dismissed. Still, he had every right to be displeased... "Well. You're going to have to make me want it again."

"That won't be a problem," his cousin promised him.

And it wasn't.

---

"Ah, Severus?" That was a soft voice, a particularly nice one. It came from one of the girls in his own third year class. He didn't talk to them very often, and he really didn't want to talk to anyone today, since he'd been pinched into oblivion despite the fact that he was wearing green. Of course he wore green on St. Patrick's Day! He was a Slytherin! They always wore green!!

Dirty, heartless bastards. Of course, he'd been sniped at when he gave Black whiskers in retaliation; there was just no hope of escaping it, other than to wedge himself in a corner of the library, a pile of foreboding books on curses and hexes piled up around him like a small fort.

"What?"

"I just thought someone ought to say they were sorry. About earlier, I mean. Even if it's someone who didn't participate," the girl said most seriously. "Sometimes, I think they truly get carried away with themselves."

Severus glanced up at her, still frowning as he'd been doing before. Lily Evans was a pretty, seemingly warm-hearted girl. Seemingly -- which surely made her Slytherin. Often he wondered about her sorting, but if idiots like Potter and Black were 'brave', Lily was unquestioningly ambitious. "Sometimes, I'd like that thing in the lake to carry them away."

"They hadn't ought to play such mean tricks on you. I don't know why they do, really, except that you're smarter than them and a boy," she decided, sitting down next to him. "They don't bother me half so much."

Nervy, too -- Severus never sat with any of his fellow third years -- only the fourth years, only with Lucius in particular. "I think... you should reverse that -- they don't bother you because you're a girl."

"Probably not," she agreed softly. "Potter turns nearly purple every time he sees me. Sometimes, I'm afraid he'll burst a vein or something, really. That'd be messy, wouldn't it?"

"Oh, I could hope," Severus sighed. Messy, and then Potter would be a dead, bloody mess on the floor. "That's an awfully nice thought, after what I've been through today. Just because my idea of what's fun doesn't involve asinine things like theirs does."

"It's sort of nice to talk to you like this," Lily decided. "I mean, you're always so quiet in class, and you're never with the rest of the third years. You seem too nice, really, to be with Lestrange and those others."

He slanted her a glance that was questioning, and very faintly curious. "What do you mean? They're my friends, except for Lestrange."

"Well, you know. Lestrange is a pervert," she said seriously. "We caught him with Sally Anderson's panties just three weeks ago. And he's always near the rest of you, too, so..."

Severus couldn't help the smile that cracked the edges of his mouth, altogether too pleased to hear what she'd just told him, "No, Lucius and I don't like him much."

"Lucius? Ah, Malfoy. He does seem to have a certain... standing amongst the other students," Lily replied with a wry smile. "Especially with the Purebloods. I occasionally feel quite overwhelmed by it all."

"Because you aren't," Severus nodded a little. "I'm pureblood, but I think I scare most of them. That's all right -- Lucius, Crabbe and Goyle like me, and don't mind teaching me things."

"Really?" Her face gained a great interest at hearing that. "Things like what? We don't learn nearly as much as I'd like in class, and I wish we could use magic over the summer." A wry smile danced over her lips. "My sister Petunia is really horrid."

"She's just a plain old muggle? Must be horrible." Not even a squib -- not even the benefit of that. Poor girl. "Uncle Arioch teaches us all sorts of things, and in the summer, I play with potions. It's not magic that the ministry has problems with, so I do that over the summer."

A thoughtful expression made its way into her gaze. "Well, that's certainly a thought, isn't it? My parents are terribly proud I'm going to Hogwarts, but Petunia..." She sighed. "Petunia's horribly jealous. I've tried to tell her that she wouldn't want to be here by telling her about the bad things, but I'm afraid it must be really obvious that I'm not telling all I know."

"You don't need her, if she's going to be like that towards you -- she's only a muggle, after all. She'll do muggle things with her life, and you'll do magical things." Idly, Severus glanced away and picked up the nearest book -- twelve hundred ways to make a man wish he'd been decapitated. Always a delightful read.

"Ohh, you've read that?" she said excitedly, leaning close. "My favorite chapter is twelve. There's just something about wooden blades, isn't there?"

He looked at her for a moment with wide-eyed surprise, then picked up smoothly with, "Isn't there? But I prefer twenty-six more -- spider eggs placed just so along the line of a shallow cut at the base of the neck is just... frightful, and that's the whole point."

A little shudder brooked through Lily. "Ergh. That one gave me the creeps. I'm not very fond of spiders," she admitted sheepishly. "Well, the living ones, anyway. Dead is all right."

"It's not that you're supposed to be fond of it -- it's just a form of torture." Severus slipped to that chapter, and looked a bit wistful. "One I'll probably never get to try."

"Well, really, you wouldn't want to, would you? Just imagine all the blood and guts that'd come from that," she noted, quite practical about the matter.

"I'd like to try a lot of things," Severus informed her, "Most of which aren't legal, or so the headmaster tells me. I think he's a bit scared of me, too."

"Why do you want to try them?" Lily asked. "I mean, it doesn't seem like something you'd really want to do, or like I would, anyway."

"I want to try them because I can. There's all sorts of things one can do but because some... some grown up Gryffindor isn't comfortable with them, they can't be done." He closed the book, and flipped open another favorite, that always made Madam Pince look at him funny. Voluptuous Veela, to give him more ideas for things to try with Lucius.

"Wow," the girl beside him said softly. "You've seen that book? Oh, my. That's really naughty."

"I read it last year," Severus smiled at her, just a bit superiorly. "The headmaster let me read it."

Lily grinned at him. "Don't tell anyone, but I snuck it past my mother just this summer at the bookstore. It wasn't easy, let me tell you! It's a fascinating read, really... Malfoy is one, isn't he? At least a little! Oh, you don't have to tell me, but it just seemed like he must be..."

"Don't spread that around," he warned, part confirmation, yes, but better to be safe than sorry. It was, of course, the only reason that he'd ever read that book.

"Oh, I wouldn't," she promised. "Only it's awfully fascinating. They say they go into heat right about his age. Is it true? Do they?" It seemed a rather naughty conversation, and she was most pleased with herself about it.

That dark pleasure was quite comforting, actually. "Mm, yes," Severus agreed. "Uncle Arioch says it'll only last another few years, which is still a long time."

"What does he do about it?" she whispered. "Not to be nosy or anything, but it just seems so fascinating. A real magical creature, right in your dorm!"

"It's a little interesting," Severus agreed, before grinning again. She was being unrepentantly nosy, but it was also brisk, and didn't feel like back stabbing in action. "I help him with it, usually."

"Oh, you mean like...??" Her fingers wriggled, face flushing as vert eyes became huge. "Wow. Oh, WOW! Is that nice? I mean, you know...?"

"It's really nice." Everything with Lucius was, so her vagueness still let him give her truth in return. "Lucius is really great, if you bother to get to know him."

"I think I'd rather just watch from a distance," Lily admitted sheepishly. "I'm sure he's nice, but I'd be nervous. It's so fascinating!"

"I suppose... it's not so fascinating for me, since I'm used to it." His fingers toyed with a bit of the book, only having it half-opened. "But why do you think it is?"

"Maybe it's a girl thing," she decided briskly. "Well, no, I doubt that. Hm, well, males amongst Veela are terribly rare, or so they say. That in and of itself is fascinating, but often the traits breed true. The more Veela blood you have, the truer they are, of course, but even in those with only a minute amount, it makes a difference. It guarantees blond hair, fair skin, light colored eyes..."

"Grey-silver," Severus corrected. "And they are rare. Uncle Arioch has a fraction, too, so."

"I really should have talked to you sooner," Lily said with a smile. "You're a fascinating conversationalist, Severus."

Severus dusted the tips of his fingers over the Voluptuous Veela book cover, and seemed to peer into her smile, staring somewhat. "It's probably because I frighten people. The other third year boys... I haven't really talked to since first."

"And who can blame you," she agreed. "But the girls are nice. You can talk to us every now and again."

"I'll remember that," he said, lips quirking a little. "But I do prefer Lucius's company... no offense."

"None taken," Lily murmured, offering him her hand. "Still. The offer's open, if you ever want to take it."

He shifted to stand, and took her hand at the same time, a light squeeze made with his thin, lithe fingers that passed for a hand shake. "I'll remember that."

"So, I'll see you around," she said. "And good luck with those Marauders. We all need a little of that."

Good luck... yes, good luck. He started to stack the tomes together again, picking the ones he wanted to take with him. "Yes, we do, don't we? To you, too, Lily."

She waved goodbye, and left him alone with his books.

---

Sitting in charms class, Severus waited. Waited for lesson to begin, leering at the two Gryffindors for whom he'd set the trap. Stupid boys, stupider than Lucius had ever told him they were, because they didn't feel the spell he'd put on their wands. Oh, it was going to be sweet. Sweet, sweet revenge for being pinched senseless on St. Patrick's Day by the asinine buggers; sweet, sweet revenge for the trick they had played on him in his second year.

He could hardly wait!

"And now, if you would all gather 'round, please!" Professor Flitwick was waving his wand cheerfully and giving them instructions on the charm they were learning, one that Severus had known since before school. "All right, then! Give it a go!"


Severus cast his immediately, almost boredly, and gained the results he was supposed to get -- shimmering points of light in the air that hung neatly in place. The Gryffindors always liked to do theirs after he was done, because if he, heaven forbid, failed at it, they knew by now that trying was a lost effort. He thrust one hand into the lights, dissipating them, and turned to drawl at Potter and Black. "Go on -- it's so simple..."

That really should have been enough to tip them off, Severus thought, if they'd had any brains. It was rather unfortunate for them that they didn't, as the moment they tried the charm, it backfired, and they both began burping up nasty, fat, black slugs that glistened as they hit the table.

"EW!" one of the Gryffindor girls shrieked.

"What's going on here?" Flitwick's cheerfulness faded quickly, as he marched up to the table of the two belching boys. Severus barely wiped the grin from his lips, when Flitwick fixed him with the oddest icy stare.

Black managed to point a finger at Severus, though he couldn't get out the other boy's name; he was altogether too busy with slugs sliding up out of his throat, plopping in little damp piles.

"It'll stop in an hour or two," Severus replied calmly. "Don't get so worked up, Black."

"Snape," Flitwick said angrily, "detention! Twenty points from Slytherin! And go to see the Headmaster!"

That was unexpected -- it was only a prank, after all... Severus frowned at the man, which probably seemed like sour defiance, as he slid his books into his bag, and left the room to do just as he'd been told. He couldn't see himself getting in very much trouble for it, and there was still the fact that he'd outpranked the pranksters.

He hoped they choked on the slugs at least once.

By the time he reached Dumbledore's office, the gargoyle which usually guarded the door had moved away from it, almost as if it had known he was coming. He supposed it probably had; Dumbledore seemed to know everything that went on at Hogwarts!

He walked up the steps idly, unhurriedly, with his bag neatly over his shoulder still. Lucius would be delighted with him when word spread, and it would be a solid victory in the deep rivalry between the two houses. Severus usually disdained from joining in, but it was April Fools' day, after all -- half-sanctioned for pranks, as it stood, by those half-bloods who'd brought the holiday to the school with them.

"Come in, Severus." That was Dumbledore's voice, and it sounded rather more serious than usual. It wasn't precisely comforting.

"Yes, sir." Severus came in, and sat down in the empty chair across from the man's desk. He kept his booksack in his lap, hands folded neatly overtop of it. It was hard to look remorseful when he didn't feel remorseful, so Severus didn't bother with that facade. There wasn't much point, not around Dumbledore.

"I am given to understand that Messrs. Black and Potter are currently burping up slugs in the infirmary, Severus." There was no twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes; not even a little. "I expect better from you."

"I'm sorry, sir." But he wasn't, and it gleamed in his black on black eyes as he looked back at the headmaster. "But they had it coming, sir, and I won't say that I regret doing it."

"I'm afraid, Severus, that is the reason why you must be punished. A lack of regret is sometimes a very fine thing, but sometimes, you carry things too far. All privileges regarding the restricted section of the library are hereby revoked," Dumbledore said sadly.

"What?" Severus's eyes went wide for a moment, so that the headmaster saw white all around the edges of black irises. "No, sir, you can't do that -- they've done worse to me and the other Slytherins, and you haven't done anything like that to them!"

"But better is expected of you, Severus, than of either of them. Sirius and James are often mischievous; it is their nature. It is not your own, which makes this prank seem much more malicious in intent," Dumbledore replied with serious tone.

For a moment, Severus's mouth worked without words -- what was it, some sort of twisted double standard of expectations? How dare the headmaster expect more of him than those two... When he spoke, it was almost as if Lucius were talking for him -- a frightening thing, and an odd tone to hear from the lips of the usually calm, inquisitive boy. "So when a Gryffindor pulls a prank and doesn't care for the consequences, it's all in good fun? But when a Slytherin does the same, it's evil, isn't it?"

"That isn't true, Severus. The differences in your natures must be taken into account, however; and you have never been the sort of boy to pull horrible pranks before, much less one with such thoroughly disgusting results," Albus pointed out to him.

"So it was all right when they turned my broom into a chicken during practice back in February? If Lucius hadn't put that buffering spell, I'd be a hole in the pitch, you know," Severus muttered, looking down at his bag. "They'll be fine again in two hours, tops. Better slugs than a pile of bloody bones."

"Severus, arguing with me isn't going to change anything."

The third year swallowed, still looking down at his bag. Of course arguing wouldn't do him any good. Dumbledore was a Gryffindor at heart, wasn't he? And in calls of loyalty, he settled with his house. "Is this a permanent decision, or just for the remainder of the term?"

"For the remainder of the term," Dumbledore said gently. "That will be all, Severus. You may go now."

He almost snapped at Dumbledore for being so gracious as to allow him to leave so soon. But he swallowed it down, with the knot in his throat. No, he wouldn't ask the headmaster for another book, as long as he was at Hogwarts. He'd ask Uncle Arioch, who'd send them to him by owl. Then, at least, he wouldn't have Madam Pince giving him strange looks and checking to see if his pass was forged, or if he was lying.

"I hope you keep in mind what I've said the next time they pull a prank," Severus murmured tightly as he stood, bag clutched tight in his fingers. "Mischievous or not, they'll never learn if you don't get them where it hurts. One of their good natured tricks could kill someone more than a well planned malicious one."

"Severus..." That was all the old man said, voice in and of itself a tight warning.

Thin fingers went white, they clutched so tightly at the bag, and then Severus turned sharply, to head to the door. "I'm sorry I've disappointed you, sir."

"I'm sorry to have to punish you," Dumbledore agreed. "Particularly as you're such a bright boy, Severus."

Whatever that had to do with being sorry for punishing him, Severus had no idea. He barely was able to let go of his bag enough to open the door, and in his tense unhappiness, the bag slipped from his grip the moment the door was open, sending his books and papers spilling down the stairs.

"Oh, shit," Severus cursed softly, staring down at the mess that seemed to cast a white light on dark stone stairs.

"Five points for cursing, Severus."

Bottom lip shaking and then tightly bitten into his mouth, Severus slammed the door behind him, and went about trying to spell his books and papers back into his bag.

No, he wasn't ever going to go to the Headmaster for anything again.

---

"Sevvie?"

That was Lucius's voice, soft, tentative, coming out of the dark. Severus had no idea what time it was, or how long had passed since he'd gone to hide after Charms.

"Sevvie, it's way after curfew. I can't sleep without you. Are you here?"

"No." It was a particularly sullen tone, but Severus was huddled up in his favorite niche, knees drawn to his chest. Perhaps hiding hadn't been the best of ideas, but he'd been reluctant to play the unaffected student that day. Dinner would have been impossible to go to -- because there Black and Potter would've been, chatting about his punishment, and Dumbledore would've been at the head table, watching him.

"Oh... Well, as you aren't here, perhaps you'll also talk to me about what isn't wrong with you?" It was just like Lucius to phrase it that way.

"I might." He drew a breath through his nose, a wet almost sniffle that betrayed silent tears Severus had shed he didn't know how long ago. "But you probably already know. I expect half the school knows."

"That you played the best prank yet on those stupid Gryffinbrats? Sure," Lucius said gently, squirming into the tiny spot where he had hidden, a little out of the way corner built into stone for some obscure reason. "The points? They're negligible." After all, it wasn't as if Lucius would take a loss of points out on him. "Especially considering that neither of them could eat dinner. That was entirely worth it."

"I'm sorry I missed that," Severus replied, shifting his bookbag a bit further back in the niche, clearing a bit of room for Lucius. "I still didn't want to go. I'm not really hungry."

An arm snuck around him. "He hurt your feelings, didn't he?" There was no need in defining that pronoun.

"They could probably kill me, and it'd be all right," Severus sighed, a soft whimper of noise as he ducked his head against Lucius's shoulder, "as long as they meant well about it. And then... when I went to leave, I dropped my books down the stairs... he just took more points away. He didn't even offer to help..."

"My poor Sevvie..." Lucius whispered. "I'm sorry. He's a stupid Mudblood lover and if it comes down to it, he'll always choose them over you. I'd never do that. I love you too much..."

"I'm not allowed... any more books from the restricted section for the rest of the term..." Severus drew another tense breath, curling closer against Lucius. Thoughts he'd been able to keep muted seemed to spring with life anew as Lucius pulled him closer. "It isn't fair! They only got a detention for all the things they do, or not even that..."

"I know, Sevvie. I know. I'll get you any books you want, I promise. And we'll write to Father and tell him all about this. He'll be very unhappy. He's on the Board of Governors, we can get something done about it, I promise," Lucius said soothingly.

"It's so stupid. It's so stupid -- I shouldn't've done it, but he shouldn't've punished me for the reason he did!" Severus wasn't sure about getting the Board of Governors in on the issue, since he hated having that sort of attention drawn to him.

"I know. Shhh. It will be all right, Sev. I'll make it all right. Is there anything I can do...?" Lucius asked him quietly.

Severus just shook his head. There wasn't anything Lucius could do, because Lucius hadn't done it in the first place. "I'm not playing another prank on them again..."

Lips nuzzled gently at his temple. "There are other ways, Sevvie..."

"Such as...?" He pressed closer, closing damp eyes tightly. It felt good in Lucius's arms, comforting in ways that his own solitude hadn't been.

"Catching them doing something stupid and telling on them. That would work pretty well," Lucius said, fingers tangling in soft strands of black hair.

"That might take a while..." But Severus was willing to do it, and Lucius knew that. "Yes. Yes, I'll keep that in mind. Can't do it this term, though, because the headmaster will discount it as revenge, but..."

"There's always next year," Lucius whispered, and kissed him gently, both eyes, his nose, his mouth. "D'you think you want to go to bed, Sev? It's really late... You'll be tired tomorrow."

"I'm skipping classes tomorrow," he decided softly, shifting back only reluctantly. "It's Friday, and I want to read the book I have before Madam Pince hunts me down for it, since I'm not allowed to have it any longer."

"I'll tell all of your teachers you aren't well," Lucius promised. /And I'll get you a copy of that book from Father. Stupid Dumblebutt, he's finally given you entirely to me. If I didn't hate him for hurting you, I'd thank him./

"It's Hogsmeade weekend. I can already guess that I'm not allowed to go on that, too..." He drew another sniff of breath, finally unfolding himself enough to crawl to his feet, and out of the niche.

"No one's said as much, have they?" Lucius asked him quietly.

"No, but..." Well. Maybe he still had that privilege left. He was still unsure as to if he wanted to test it.

"So long as they don't see you leave, they can't very well revoke it, now can they?" And oh, Lucius would make sure that they didn't! He'd send a note to his father that very night!

"I'm afraid I'm not following you. You must be tired, too," Severus decided in a whisper.

"We'll just sneak you right past. We could find a way to do it, I'm sure..." Lucius paused. "But let's not worry about that until Saturday, okay? Come on. Let's go to bed, Sev."

He staggered to his feet, arms still halfway around Lucius's neck. His legs hurt, and thin knees cracked as they straightened. "I'm going to sleep for hours," Severus sighed as the weight of exhaustion settled on him. He was tired of thinking about what had happened.

With a little smile, Lucius pulled him close, letting Severus lean against his own body for support. "You can sleep as long as you like," he promised, and then kissed Severus's temple again. "I promise."

A quiet sigh filtered loose, as he shouldered his bag again. "I do love you, Lucius." Lucius was always there for him, just for him, to be trusted and helpful... Yes, he only had one friend, because he'd been wrong about the headmaster. "I know, Sevvie," Lucius whispered, and kissed him on the mouth that time. "Come on."

It was a silent, winding walk back to the dormitory, and the other fourth years were asleep already. He dropped his books down quietly, stripped off, and slid into bed beside Lucius. For the first time in months, they didn't play for a bit before sleeping -- Severus simply pressed close to his friend and lover, relaxing until sleep took him.

---

"Lord Voldemort is coming this afternoon," Lucius warned Severus quietly. It was not quite time to return to school, and they'd spent days lazing by the pool in the back gardens covered in spells to keep the sun from burning them to a crisp.

"Is that good, or bad?" Severus drawled, lifting his head a little from the pillow of his arms. "You're frightened of him, aren't you?"

"I'm not frightened," Lucius lied, scowling at him, long fingers dangling in the water. "It's what's called healthy respect, Severus, and it would do you good if you had a little of it. It's good that he's coming. Father says they've been very busy lately."

Severus smiled slightly, laid his cheek back down on his forearm. "I respect him. He's a very powerful man, without question... I perhaps just haven't been around him often enough to have that 'healthy respect' that makes you look like you're going to piss your pants around him."

"Severus...!" Grey eyes were narrowed, cheeks flushed as much from growing anger as from the sun. "One more word and I shall beat you. And you won't like it!"

"Yes, cousin." Severus's agreement was at least as snide as disagreement would've been. "I promise I'll be better this time. I was... foolish last time, I know."

"Not foolish, just unknowing. I should likely have spoken with you before," Lucius admitted, and promptly splashed water upon the other pale boy.

It gained him soft laughter from Severus, who shifted forwards on his stomach just enough to cup a handful of water -- which was promptly dropped atop Lucius's head. "I forgive you for that, I suppose..."

"How much would you forgive me, Sevvie?" It was a drawled, heavy sort of question, one which required a certain delicacy of answer.

Sometimes it was impossible to tell what game Lucius was playing, but Severus never minded it. "A great deal, I believe."

"Blood? Pain? Suffering?" Lucius asked him before pausing. "Marriage?" The blond was only fifteen. It was surely a ridiculous question.

Severus reached fingers forwards, to wipe wet platinum strands from Lucius's forehead. His head cocked a little to one side, though a slight smile still lingered at the edges of his mouth. "The first three are ludicrous. The last isn't anything to think of yet."

"Are you so sure of all that?" Grey eyes cut into his own, the blond's mouth tightening. "Lord Voldemort is coming to discuss a betrothal ceremony of some sort," he confessed, turning his face to kiss Severus's fingers so close by his face.


"Betrothal...?" One eyebrow raised slightly, while Severus squirmed so that he was laying beside Lucius, instead of slightly across from him. "Of what sort?"

"To a female, of course," Lucius told him, sounding slightly exasperated. "Mother says that she's nearly full-blooded Veela, and that she goes to Beauxbatons. Her name is Narcissa Langlois, some distant cousin or other many times removed." He laid his head down upon his upper arm, still looking at Severus. "I don't want anyone but you, Sevvie," he said smoothly. It was only a small lie; he did want Severus more than he wanted anyone else, but on occasion, he couldn't help looking and wanting what he saw. It was in his nature.

Severus halfway understood that, though he couldn't help but frown as he leaned against his companion and lover, fingers in the other boy's sleek hair. "You'll still love me?" Surely, if Lucius had someone other than him, it... it would be a loss for Severus. "Why is Lord Voldemort coming to talk to you about being betrothed? I don't understand that..."

"He's the one who's arranging matters. A child will be born eventually, as one must be, and I think he has plans of some sort. I don't know. I can't tell with him. Maybe..." Lucius shrugged. "Maybe I am frightened. I wish you could have children, Sev. You know I'll always love you." It seemed desperately unfair that Severus couldn't.

"I'm a boy, and boys can't have babies," Severus snorted, tilting his head so he could brush Lucius's lips with his own. He was suddenly discomfited with the idea that Lord Voldemort was coming -- because it was obvious now that he could override and decide things within the Malfoy family. They obviously answered to him, if they were going to let him choose who their son married. "It's not yet, though, is it? We're all still in school, so it can't be yet..."

"No, but soon..." Lucius whispered. "Just three more school years. It doesn't quite seem like long enough. I hadn't thought to wed for at least another ten..."

"He'd better not decide that I should marry." Severus's own reply was just as soft a whisper as the one Lucius had given him. "You shouldn't have to, not if you don't want to..."

"If he does, Severus, you're going to do what he tells you. Understand?" That wasn't his Lucius, really. It was some impersonator Lucius, some terrible Lucius capable of stern demands that made him shiver. "You do what he tells you, Sev."

Silence from the younger boy, and Lucius's lips were brushed with another kiss. "Let's go swimming, Lucius? I don't want to think about this..."

Then, he was Lucius again, kissing him back, fingers tender on the back of his skull. "All right. You don't have to think about it, Sevvie. We'll swim instead..."

Severus's mouth twitched a little, pulling up a smile, as he pushed and prodded at Lucius until the other boy slipped into the water first. "After you, Lucius..."

Oh, yes. Lucius was definitely going to beat him later... but for now, there was plenty of fun to be had, and it was better not to think.

---

Lucius's fingers clutched at Severus's. The dark-haired boy could feel how sweaty his palms were despite the fact that Lucius appeared to be cool, serene, utterly unfeeling.

"He's waiting for you both," Arioch murmured to them, in his very cool, calm tones. It was the end of a series of 'manner-checks' as Severus thought of them, that had been helpful only by the fact that Uncle Arioch had a wonderfully soothing voice. His fingers shifted, gave Lucius's a squeeze as Uncle Arioch told them both, "Don't delay -- in the parlor, boys."

Then Lucius was sent stumbling along in the lead, with a firm hand pushing at his back that certainly didn't help the nervousness that he was undoubtedly feeling.

"Hello, Lucius. Severus." Voldemort's voice was quiet as they moved into the indicated room, the sound of it filled with a certain charismatic force despite its hushed tones, and it invited them close. "Come in. Sit. Severus, you will serve."

"Yes, sir." Just as he would for a teacher, if one had asked, Severus went about serving tea. It was just general politeness to serve by order or importance -- so the strangely understated wizard before them was poured tea first, then Lucius. "Sugar or milk, sir?" He should've been scared. Should've been trembling with fear. And perhaps knowing that made him edgy about the affair that was pouring tea for his best friend and the Dark Lord. But curiosity overwhelmed even the basest of common sense. So, he stared, as he was apt to do when curious.

"Lemon, Severus. Is there something you would like to ask me?" It was a question that was filled with no small amount of amusement even though the man was likely one of the most powerful wizards of their time.

"I... don't think it's anything that I should be asking, sir." Severus reached for a lemon, squeezed it into the wizard's tea, and set the rind carefully on the other side of the saucer.

"Nonsense. You should always ask me what is on your mind, Severus. I want to know," the man assured, and he nodded to Lucius. "Young Lucius here is aware that I like to know what is going on amongst even those as young as the two of you."

"I... don't know why you're making Lucius marry," Severus said uneasily, fidgeting slightly with the tray of raspberry flavored biscuits before he offered it to both Lucius and Voldemort. "I wanted to ask about that, but since Uncle Arioch doesn't seem bothered at all..."

"Well, he must marry at some point, mustn't he?" Voldemort replied. "And Lucius doesn't mind. Do you, Lucius?"

"No, my Lord," the silvery blond said most politely, taking a biscuit only after Voldemort had refused. "I don't mind. It must happen eventually."

"I'm not going to have to do that, am I?" That Voldemort was arranging it still struck him as oddly sinister. Perhaps it was for The Cause, as it was often loftily referred to.

"No, Severus. I have other plans for you, if you wish to join our Cause when the time comes. I will need a master of Potions, and believe that you are much more likely to fulfill that duty than any other. From Lucius, you see, I need progeny; the signs have shown that the blood of Malfoy and Langlois should join once again, to produce that which is necessary," Voldemort explained almost gently.

But Lucius was good in potions, too -- why should he be pegged in place as... just for offspring? For a moment, that seemed written between his eyes as he fixed a cup of tea for himself. "Potions for what, sir?"

"Oh, for anything I might need. Potions can be a very interesting subject, Severus. One can do a great many things with potions: heal, harm, learn the truth, become invisible, force love, even defy death if one excels at one's craft. You, I believe, will be most sublime," the powerful wizard replied. "Just as young Malfoy here will be a wonderful husband and father. Do you doubt it?"

Father, Severus was fine with. Husband... The almost fourth year swallowed down a knot in his throat, looking up at Voldemort still as he sat down across from both of them. "I... don't know, sir." He could almost feel the widening of silvery gaze from the boy so close by him.

"Why do you say that, Severus?" Voldemort asked carefully.

"I don't want him to be." It rose to his lips before common sense could stand down the words. Severus didn't waver, though, as he kept looking up to those brilliant green eyes with their implacable, delicate flecks. Power, he supposed.

"Sometimes, Severus, we do not always get what we want; however..." The man's voice trailed off, and the sudden warm way in which Severus found himself considered was no small amount disturbing. "It will be considered."

"I don't get much of what I want, unless Lucius helps me," Severus admitted, glancing down to his tea cup. It wasn't fear, but simple nervousness that drove him to it. "He's my only friend. If he marries some girl... He'll have to live with her, won't he?" He glanced up again, looking at the dark wizard inquisitively.

"That is very much what marriage is about, Severus. Indeed. That is quite true," Voldemort admitted, carefully sipping from his cup. Lucius remained quiet, as though it was bidden him to do so, and this was just as odd as the powerful red stains of color flickering in those green eyes. "That does not mean that you cannot remain here, however, that you cannot continue to be friends."

"I shan't think that wives like to be kicked out of their beds," Severus said after a moment, smiling faintly despite himself as he took his first careful sip.

"Many wives sleep separate from their husbands." That was Lucius's first contribution to the conversation, lips moving though it seemed somehow that argent eyes reflected no thought. Quite odd.

Severus stared at Lucius for a moment, openly and uncaring that he was doing it, before looking back up at Voldemort. "I'd rather not have to think of it yet. There's still... at least three years, sir, until then?"

Voldemort nodded. "Yes. Miss Langlois will spend two weeks next summer at Malfoy Manor, I suspect, to become accustomed to it and to meet young Lucius. It will be another three years, though; you are correct in that."

Two weeks in the summer?! No, not the summer, if only because he didn't want to be around some girl that he halfway saw as coming between he and Lucius. "Thank you, sir," Severus sighed a bit miserably.

"Perhaps you could come and visit me while Miss Langlois meets Lucius, Severus." The suggestion was idly given but not without some meaning behind it, one not quite grasped.

"If... if that wouldn't be trouble, sir," Severus answered, tilting his head a little to one side. "I don't want to... bother her when she's here."

"Of course, Severus. Of course." There was a sly smile accompanying those words, and it gave Severus a bit of a chill. "Lucius, I have something for you."


"Sir?" The question was almost dreamy, very unlike Severus's lover, indeed. Something was going on, something not quite right.

"A picture of Miss Langlois, in this locket..." Voldemort handed it over to the blond, dark hair momentarily falling into his eyes, obscuring the look in them. Surely they weren't red, were they? "You will like it, I suspect. She's a lovely girl."


"Yes," Lucius agreed, opening the locket slowly. "Yes. She's very lovely."

Severus squinted a little, and leaned to look at her. She was very.... beaky, Severus wanted to say, but he knew that with his nose, he didn't have much ground to say it. Still, she looked as if she had a superior air to her -- and Severus only approved of that when a person had proved that they had reason for their air. "For a girl," Severus tacked on as soft amendment.

At that, the Dark wizard laughed. "Severus, you give too much away," he chided gently. "Yes, she is lovely, for a girl. There are, of course, lovelier creatures to be won, but they cannot create children, and that is sadly a necessity."


"What did I give away, sir?" Severus stopped leaning, and took another careful sip from his cup.

"Perhaps," Voldemort said, "you will learn to like girls later in life. How old are you now, Severus?"

"Fourteen," he replied succinctly. "And I don't think I ever will. There isn't anything wrong with not liking them, is there?" The headmaster didn't care, McGonagall and Professor Hecate no doubt knew, and Crabbe and Goyle didn't mind that he and Lucius were sometimes a bit loud.

The man laughed, and Lucius's face colored slightly. "Perhaps you won't ever learn to like them, then. It's good that Lucius is Veela, or he might not like them, either, hm, Lucius?"

"Yes, sir, as you say, my Lord," Lucius agreed.

Such compliance from Lucius drew Severus's gaze again, and he frowned at his lover. How very odd, how very unlike lucius to just fall in line so calmly. There was always at least a little sign that Severus noticed even if no one else did. "I hope... sir, that I haven't derailed the point of your coming here too badly with my questions."

"No, Severus. In fact, I believe that you have most admirably shown me just what I wished to know. That being said, I have another meeting very shortly and am afraid that I must abandon the two of you."

"Yes, sir...." Severus's fingers, unknown to him, had been mashing apart one of the biscuits on his saucer. "What did you want to know, though, sir?"

"Ah, if I told you all of my secrets, Severus, I'd have none left." That was said almost teasingly as the man rose, setting his cup and saucer down carefully. "I will see you both again soon."

"Goodbye, my Lord," Lucius said almost dully.

And then Voldemort Apparated away, leaving nothing more behind than the stormy scent Severus associated with Apparation's aftereffects.

"Are you all right, Lucius?" Severus asked as he darted another glance over to his companion. "You seem... tense."

"Hm?" For a moment, it was still not-Lucius looking at him, and then the blond sagged. "Oh. Father wanted to be sure that I said the right things. He was... he was making sure..." Whatever had been done, the blond was obviously drained.

Severus's lean fingers were shaking slightly, as he set down his tea-cup, and slipped from his chair to the sofa that Lucius was sitting on. "Did you hear any of what was said?"

"Something about a picture.." Lucius said, eyes fogging over again as he looked down at the locket.

"Your betrothed," Severus said, flipping it open for Lucius. He leaned nearer to his friend, so that they pressed side against side, shoulder to shoulder. "She's coming next summer."

The other boy groaned. "Stupid witch," he muttered, though whether he meant it or not, who knew? "I don't want her to come. I want to spend time with you..."

"I don't want to be here when she is," Severus frowned, pulling the locket from Lucius's tired fingers to close the face of it. Only then did he give it back to Lucius. "So... Lord Voldemort said I can stay with him then."

"You're abandoning me to her?" That question seemed almost hurt, Lucius dragged back from that strange fog again.

Frowning, Severus shook his head. "Well, you seemed to like the idea when it came up." Even if it hadn't been Lucius. He had to keep that in mind, just as he was filing away that odd fogged look Lucius had taken on. "Or, rather, Uncle Arioch liked the idea?"

"Mmmm." Lucius dropped his head onto Severus's shoulder. "I'm tired, Sevvie," he whispered.

A thin arm curled around his back, pulling him nearer. "You can sleep here, if you want... I'll stay."

"I'd miss you awfully if you ever went, Sevvie. You know that, don't you?" It seemed almost pleading. No, there was something desperately not right at the moment.

Severus hugged his friend closer, frowning worriedly. "Just go to sleep, Lucius. You're not making any sense."

"Mmmm," Lucius replied, and closed his eyes tightly. He seemed so tired... He was asleep in minutes, which left Severus wondering as to what was going on.

School was starting soon. When school started, things would go back to normal...

---

"I really don't get it," Remus said miserably. "I'm just awful at it. Theory is all well and good, but for some reason, every time I put knife to root or herb, I end up with an explosion. How it happens, I can never tell..."

They were halfway through the first term of the year, and Remus was failing Potions miserably.

Not that it meant that Severus was instantly going to leap to his aid. Everyone knew that Severus was the best in potions, a natural talent -- and that he was very Slytherin, eyeing Remus for a moment as if he was unsure of what to say. On one hand, Remus was pleasant, and asking nicely for help; on the other, Remus's friends were at the top of Severus's hate list.

"Why should I help you?"

The other boy's face nearly fell, golden eyes pleading slightly. "I'm desperate, Snape. Really. Everyone else has tried, but no one has managed to show me what I'm doing. I thought if anyone could, it would be you..."

"Because I'm the best," Severus finished for him, closing the book he was reading. 'Horrendous Apparation Accidents' -- sent to him by Uncle Arioch, because he had yet to go near the headmaster to ask him anything for the entirety of the term. "Do you want to start now, or...?" It was after dinner, but Lucius was writing a paper and Severus didn't particularly feel like bothering him.

"Now would be fine, if you can just help me. I hope you can. I can't understand anything that the Professor tells us half the time, it's just impossible," Remus moaned.

Book clutched in his fingers, Severus nodded as he stood. "We'll go down to the dungeons, then. I hope you don't mind that, because I don't plan on going near the Gryffindor area."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Remus agreed. "I don't mind. I appreciate you trying to help me, Snape... Can I call you Severus? Snape makes me think of snails for some reason... Not," he hurried to say, "that YOU make me think of snails, but you know what I mean."

"Not really," he denied blandly as he got up from the dining table, and walked or the exit. Remus got a curt gesture to follow. "I don't mind if you call me Severus. But nothing other than that, understand?"

"I promise I won't call you Sevvie," came the mischievous response. "Actually, why do you object to that so much? Malfoy calls you it, doesn't he?" Remus asked curiously.

"That's Lucius's business and mine, Lupin, not yours," Severus drawled, arching an eyebrow as he looked over at Remus. He wasn't too fond of Lucius calling him that, but it had stopped irking him quite as much -- Lucius did things like that, and it was one more small thing that differentiated Lucius's relationship with him from any one else's. "Lucius does a great deal that I wouldn't let you do."

The words 'so I hear' twitched momentarily on Remus's lips, but he simply smiled and nodded. "Understandable. I'm different, after all..." Those words seemed ripe with something, heavy.

"Most people are, aren't they?" Severus hesitated for a moment at the edge of a hallway, before turning down it. It would take him past the dorms to that niche in the dungeons that he'd half-way claimed as his own. "Lucius Malfoy is my best friend. If he wants to call me some odd diminutive, that's good and well. I don't know you, after all."

"Understandable. Is he really as bossy as they say he is?" Remus asked curiously. "Only he's older than us, so I wouldn't know."

"He isn't bossy to me." Severus shrugged that. Of course Lucius wasn't bossy to him -- there was no need to be, because Severus essentially acted the way that Lucius liked people to act in the first place. "He's a fifth year now. When Klaigh leaves this year, he'll be our Quidditch team's captain."

"That must be nice for you. You're a Chaser, right? I don't follow Quidditch quite as much as I get encouraged to," Remus admitted with a wry little smile. "It's not my thing."

"I'm surprised that Potter hasn't taken to giving you personal lessons on the game. Because if he obviously can't help you with potions, he should at least share what knowledge he does have." The dungeons grew darker as they walked lower, and they stopped in front of a vacant-seeming hallway. "Wait here. I'm going to get my cauldron, and a few other things..."

"All right..." The surrounding darkness didn't seem to make the other fourteen year old very happy, but it didn't really matter if he was happy about it or not. Severus had said that he would help him with potions, not that he would protect him from the dark.

Severus paused a moment at a tapestry, peered at Lupin, over his shoulder, then returned his full attention to it. "Werewolf blood." Where it had previously been tacked down against the wall, it lifted, and let Severus pass through the doorway into the dorm.

Goyle and Crabbe were nowhere to be seen, and Nordstrom was no doubt lingering outside the doors of the girls' rooms. Or, perhaps he was harassing the house elves. But Lucius was stretched out on the bed, looking very studious.

He should've stayed in the dormitory and simply watched Lucius, Severus decided, as he let the tapestry fall shut behind him. "How're you doing on that, Lucius?"

"Nmm." It wasn't much by way of answer, for Lucius truly was deeply involved in what he was doing. O.W.L.s were coming up, and he was very concerned with what was expected of him by his father and Lord Voldemort. "Atrociously. I hate History of Magic," he snarled. It was a sign that perhaps it was better not to be in the dorm with him at that particular moment after all.

"It's all goblins, mountain trolls, gnomes and giants running amuck causing trouble," Severus shrugged as he moved to his trunk, and dug quickly through for a few books that he thought were fairly simplistic -- just ingredients listed, no instructions at all, and a tiny shimmering patch of color beside each so that the color could be verified on spot for those less experienced. He snatched his cauldron up quickly, a ladle dropped inside with a pouch of ingredients. "I'm going to tutor Lupin on Potions -- I'll be back before curfew."

"Lupin?" That was asked sharply. "Isn't he one of those hideous Gryffindors?"

"He's failing potions miserably, and he did ask nicely... It's good to see Gryffindors show a bit of humility." Severus tilted his head a little, as he looked down at Lucius. One of the pages looked wrinkled as if Lucius had nodded off on it, and that made him smile a little. "Don't worry. I'll constantly remind him of what a foul-up he must be."

Lucius didn't seem to like even that, and he frowned. "Be careful, Sevvie. If he does something horrible to you, it's your own fault." The sheer possessiveness Lucius displayed had only grown worse since the announcement of his betrothal. Sometimes, Severus thought that Lucius would lock him in a tower to be seen only by him if it was possible.

"I'll promise to be careful if you'll give me a kiss before I go." If Lucius was going to be so possessive, Severus knew he could get away with a great deal more. Bothering Lucius's studying of all things, was something he knew better than to do, but he couldn't resist asking for just one kiss.

"Come here," Lucius said, tacit agreement, and he held out a hand in invitation.

A slight bend, and Lucius's hand was caught when Severus leaned down. He started the kiss, but Lucius had a habit of finishing things between them. A slight parting of lips, and Severus felt warm, teasing friction for just a moment, pressure that opened him up, stole his breath, made him want kissing even worse.

"You're mine," Lucius whispered against his mouth, taking another kiss, warm and damp and full of power. "Mine, Sevvie..."

"Never anyone else's." Soft promise, as Severus pulled back after one last, small kiss. "I'll be back before curfew -- and I'll be safe for you, Lucius. Don't worry; study, instead."

"That's just like you," Lucius whispered, giving him the tiniest of superior smiles. "Be back soon. I want you now."

"No you don't -- you want to desperately learn about the goblin rebellion in Swahvia in 1078." Fingers rapped the page, and Severus drew back entirely. One last smile, and he slipped back out of the tapestry. That was his Lucius, still -- that superior twist of the lips, that need and want, and the slight tingle of power that had started to flourish in recent months. Severus wondered when he'd start to tingle with power, too.

Those thoughts left him so absentminded that he almost missed walking straight into Lupin, who was lingering outside of the tapestry.

"Ready to study?" Lupin asked him, backing hurriedly out of the way and catching Severus's cauldron as it tumbled loose. "You might want me to use one of the extra cauldrons. I, um, have a bad habit of melting them down," he admitted sheepishly.

"We're not going to the classroom," Severus informed him, as he paused for a moment to make sure the tapestry was entirely closed. Lucius would be able to get in at least another hour or two of studying. "I have a... spot that I use for my own purposes. I've no plans of using a classroom without teacher's permission."

That seemed to stroke at Lupin's curiosity, for he nodded, eyes bright. "That sounds fine, so long as it will be all right if something blows up. Just in case.."

"Just don't kill me, hmn? I believe that I can handle most anything else." Severus jerked his chin, and then started off further down the hall. "I've been politely informed by Lucius that it's my fault if tutoring somehow hurts me."

"Oh? Why would he say a thing like that?" Remus's head tilted to the side. "I shouldn't think that it would hurt you, unless he knows how bad I am at potions..."

Because Lucius loved him, and love and protecting were one and the same to a Slytherin. That wouldn't make sense to the Gryffindor, Severus assumed. "He took my word on that -- it's simply how he is."

"Oh. Well, that's all right, then," Remus said, hurrying along behind him. "How far is this place we're going to use?"

"Oh, a ways." Severus smirked a little as he looked over at Remus. A cowardly Gryffindor? what a terribly amusing thought to have. "Don't like the dark?"

"Prefer it to the moonlight," Remus said, "but I'm not very fond of either. They both give me the creeps."

"Don't trust the torchlight to show you the way...?" Severus made a sweeping gesture with his robe-hidden wand that blew out the nearest torch. "You should be less afraid of the dark, Remus -- and more frightened of the things that hide in broad daylight."

"Somehow I can't quite believe that," Remus admitted, shivering. "Father used to say that there was nothing present in darkness that wasn't present in light, but he was very very wrong. I know it."

"Oh, really? And just what do you know that is only present in darkness, hmn?"

"Vampires, for example. Werewolves." He said it without stuttering. "Other things, sensitive to light..."

"Stronger vampires often pass themselves off as regular wizards," Severus countered easily, "As do werewolves. That's hiding in plain daylight, as far as I'm concerned."

"But not all vampires or werewolves are that strong," Remus replied. "And no werewolf is strong enough to resist the pull of the moon."

"But they're still there in daylight, aren't they?" Severus trailed off on that thought, without much force behind it. "Here's a potions thought -- tell me the uses of werewolf blood, and how to gather it."

"The best way to gather it is once the...the werewolf has fought himself unconscious. Even then, it's best if you knock him out first, one way or the other." Remus's voice was deadly even. "After all, the blood has to come at the height of the full moon."

"Textbook recitation," Severus sighed, sounding ever so slightly disappointed. "You can quote it all, I'd wager. That sort of ability will do you no good in even the simplest practical applications."

"That's why I need help," Remus pointed out to him seriously.

"Is there any potion at all that you can make well?" If he was in such a dire state, Severus was curious as to how he'd gotten as far as he had, all the way to fourth year, without needing serious tutoring.

"Well...." Remus hedged. "I've managed to get by pretty much on my testing skills alone, and with James's help. He's always my lab partner. I'm feeling rather guilty that he does all of the work, though. I cut things up properly, but after that, it's all thumbs."

"But James Potter can't manage to teach you how to do things properly?" Severus took a sharp turn down a narrow hallway, walking sideways for a few steps, until the hall opened into a large, mostly darkened room. "Here, hold this. I'll light the torches." A tingle of magic rippled in his wake after he'd shoved the cauldron's handle into Remus's hands -- his simple alarm system cast on the room deactivating.

"James hasn't the patience," Remus admitted, looking around curiously. The room held several work tables, notable once the torches flickered to life, a fireplace at one end, and even a couple of comfortable looking battered chairs. "This must be nice," he said, wide-eyed.

"Lucius and I come down here when we want a bit of peace. A poor version of Malfoy Manor, but it serves its purpose." In an abandoned niche of the dungeons, a tuck of space that would never be used by the school. "Put the cauldron on that table."

Remus did so obediently enough, tilting his head to the side. "So you live at Malfoy Manor, too, then?"

"Grandfather died the summer after second year. My father and Uncle Arioch were cousins." Severus went to the fireplace, stirring the ashes a little. Then he settled onto his heels, and started to conjure up a container of distilled, perfectly purified water.

"How do you do that?" the other boy asked, coming to watch with what was clearly fascination. "Mine always comes up a bit muddy."

"This was the first spell grandfather ever taught me." Carefully, with perfectly pointed words, Severus conjured up a second dish. "Do you want to start with that, then?"

"Please," Remus sighed with great relief, and settled down to learn everything Severus could possibly knock into his head.

It was going to be one very long night, and quite conceivably a very long term, as well.

---

"Get over yourself, Potter -- it isn't as if I'm going to give him a ingredient list that's going to incinerate him." Severus made another attempt to brush past the Gryffindors who were blocking his way down the hall.

"I don't trust you, Snape," James Potter snapped out, arms crossed over his chest. Behind him stood Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, though Pettigrew had the balls required to at least look a little nervous. "You're slimy, and you're only going to hurt Remus."

Severus shifted one arm until his wand slid smoothly into his hand, leveling a glare on them both. Who did they think they were, pretending to be the school's policing force? "I would? How would I hurt him...? I'm only teaching him how to properly make potions."

"You're more likely to teach him how to properly blow something up!" Sirius exploded, waving his hands wildly. Despite the fact that he was only a fourth year, half the girls in school had fallen in love with him, regardless of age. For that matter, Severus suspected a fair number of boys had, as well, which was disturbing on a very personal level.

Lucius never would, which was soothing to remember.

"So? At least he'd be doing it because the potion's end result was that, rather than because he added the dried bee's legs too soon!" Severus snapped softly. "Now, get out of my way, Gryffindors."

"Make us," Peter sneered, glaring at him through piggy little eyes. Apparently, there was great bravery to be found in numbers.

"I should," Severus muttered, flicking his wand so that it pointed at the ceiling. "But you've one more chance. I'd prefer to go straight to the Slytherin commons, than have to detour to the headmaster's office."

James snorted. "Look. All we want is to let you know that if you harm Remus in any way, you're in for quite an ass-kicking. Understood, Snape?"

"Quite." A bland sneer from the Slytherin Chaser, as he folded his arms idly. "Just as Remus understands that he's in for quite an 'ass-kicking' if he does the same."

"Someone ought to put you out of our misery," Sirius sulked, eyes narrowing. "If you hurt Remus, Snape, I can promise you very personally that you will regret it. Severely."

An idea sparked in Severus's mind, as he edged closer to lean just over Potter's shoulder -- something he knew that none of the boys would like. That close, they could feel a tingle in the air around him -- evil, the stupid Gryffindors probably thought. It was only power, those first promising buds of it. "Why does it bother you so much, Sirius?" the dark haired boy purred. "Is he... yours?"

"Oh, gross!" Sirius yelped, turning crimson. So, he had thought about it... "You're disgusting, you sicko! You Slytherins probably do that all the time, don't you!?"

"That's got nothing to do with it," James said staunchly. "You've been warned, Snape. Don't hurt him."

Severus smiled as slimily as he could, indulging them in their dislike of him. "Lupin won't be hurt, Potter. I don't have any reason to hurt him -- now, if it were you, or Black, there'd be reason to be afraid..." Pettigrew wasn't worth even bothering with, save for the flitting thought of casting a silencing spell over him. "Now, get out of my way."

James waved his hand and stepped back, allowing Severus to slip between him and Pettigrew. That was probably wise of him, as Sirius was still sputtering and had reached the point of death threats. "You complete pouf!"

"I'm wounded to the pits of my soul," Severus uttered, turning a little as he passed and clutching dramatically over his chest. "Only it isn't an insult -- goodbye, Gyrffindoofs."

"James, can't we kill him!?" he heard Sirius moan as he walked away from them, and he almost laughed.

"Don't bother. He'll probably join up with Voldemort and get himself killed without any help from you," James promised.

The Gryffindors would just have to keep hoping, Severus decided, though that last comment raised his hackles. Still, to turn and comment back would be to keep the 'conversation' going. All he wanted to do in that moment was go to the room, relax, read, study, and then head to help the only Gryffindor who was desperate enough to ask him for assistance.

---

"I won't go downstairs. I won't see her. I won't allow you to go to Lord Voldemort and stay. It simply will not happen!" Lucius growled, flinging himself upon their bed and covering his head with a pillow. School was out once again, summer hot and heavy around them, and Narcissa Langlois was to arrive early the next morning.

Severus was sliding books, and the odd puzzle, into his trunk with reluctant movements. "Uncle Arioch wants me to go, just as he wants you to meet your..." And then his lips curled in distaste, "Your betrothed."

"I don't care!" came the muffled moan from underneath the pillow. "Bugger the lot of them! Dammit!"

It almost wasn't fair that Lucius was having his go at dramatics when Severus knew that it was his right. He was being sent off, after all, not Lucius. With a slight sigh, Severus tucked his Gobstones set into the trunk, then moved to crawl across the bed towards Lucius. The pillow wasn't even tucked aside; instead, Severus just slid a hand beneath it to touch Lucius's face. "It's only two weeks. It isn't the end of the world, Lucius. Think of all that I can learn in two weeks."

"I don't want you to learn anything." Slender fingers moved the pillow away and Lucius looked up at him, expression deeply forlorn. "I want to throw a fit and get my way. I want you to stay with me. How can I sleep without you?"

"Poorly. That's how I'll sleep without you, at least." It was best to ignore the nagging at the back of his mind, and snatch onto the small hope that Lucius wouldn't... not with Narcissa. Hopefully Uncle Arioch wouldn't allow it -- it wouldn't be seemly, Severus supposed, for the betrothed couple to start so long before the wedding. "I'm not too sure on this, either, Lucius," Severus confided softly, as he laid down beside the other boy.

Fingers moved up, tenderly pushing silken strands of black hair out of the way. "Severus, you know I'll always love you, don't you?" It was said most seriously, palm cupping his cheek as Lucius looked at him, grey eyes boring hard into near-ebony.

"You'll still love me when I come back," Severus agreed. "And I hope you don't ever love her, but that isn't my say..." Words that made his chest clench, even as he shifted to slide a leg over Lucius's, hooking them both nearer with it. "And you know that I'll never feel any differently."

"I won't ever love her," Lucius promised, pulling him close and pressing his lips lightly to Severus's. "When I'm with her, I'll think of you. Even when..." He arched up slightly, pressing more tightly to Severus's body. "Even when I have to sleep with her."

"I don't want to think about that." Kisses exchanged between them were soft, tender, though Severus pulled back after a few more lazy, exploring brushes passed between them. "Help me finish packing, Lucius."

"Mmmm, no. You aren't going anywhere," Lucius declared, rolling atop him. "I shan't allow you to leave me."

"I'm not leaving you," Severus said in a tone that was only slightly exasperated. His hands came up to hold at Lucius's hips, proof to Lucius that he wasn't. It was hard for him to become truly angered at his friend. "You should... I'd expect you to be happy that I've this chance, Lucius..."

"I am, I suppose," Lucius answered with a sigh, laying his head against Severus's shoulder. "It's very important to learn from the Lord, to take what he will give, Severus. It's just..."

"It's just that you're a brat, Lucius." He dared to tease that as he turned his head and kissed Lucius's jaw. "Don't make me any more nervous than I already am, please."

"I hope you learn something wonderful to make up for having to go away, Sev." It was honestly meant, and Lucius rolled off of him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I suppose I shall help you pack. Get it over with entirely," he grumbled, "then I can have you back in bed."

Severus crawled across the mattress towards Lucius, to buss another kiss against smooth skin. then he slid off the bed, and went back to packing his trunk. "Perhaps he'll change his mind and decide he doesn't want a schoolboy in his home..." It was unlikely, though. The huge owl had swooped in that very morning with a confirmation of the vague plans of the previous summer. If it all went as planned, Severus would be leaving just moments after Narcissa flooed in.

"Lord Voldemort would never change his mind about you, Severus." That answer was almost stern as they began to pack again. "Your father and mother were in the same positions to him as my father is, you know, or at least, similar. He already expects great things from you. I don't understand why all I have to do is breed," Lucius sulked.

"You'll probably have a number of things he expects from you," Severus decided, in the hopes it would stop Lucius from sulking. "Perhaps... he needs the child soon? I don't know..." And he didn't want to know for what. "After that, you've years and years for everything else."

"But what's he going to do with the child is what I want to know," Lucius asked. "Sacrifice it? Blood is very useful, but I'm uncertain as to whether I should like that. Wed I must eventually, whether I like it or not. Sooner is much more disgusting than later. But to breed an heir and have it used for something like that? What if I cannot breed another?" He was fretting, it was undeniable.

"Ask him...?" Severus moved to a small case on his dresser, and pulled out a boxes of figurines contemplatively. If properly arranged, they would reenact battles, and he did find them entertaining to watch for hours at a time. "Tell me it's wise, Lucius, to pack as if I'm going to be perfectly alone for two weeks."

"It's wise, Severus, to pack as if you're going to be perfectly alone for two weeks," Lucius answered, putting out a hand to touch the figures. "I think you have plenty in there for all occasions now, Severus."

"I think this will be the last thing," the younger boy decided, turning towards his companion a little. "I did put my dress robes in there, didn't I?"

"Right before you added your chess set," Lucius agreed.

Severus felt his cheeks flush just faintly. "I might learn a lot, but if he wants to leave me to my own devices for two weeks, I'm not going to let myself die of boredom."

"You aren't allowed to die," Lucius told him very seriously. "Not ever."

"That's a bit unrealistic, Lucius..." He tossed the well-sealed set of figurines into his trunk, and then leaned nearer to Lucius, so they were forehead against forehead. "But I'll be with... him over these two weeks. I doubt any harm will come to me."

"Promise me," Lucius demanded. "Promise me you won't be harmed. Promise me that you'll never die."

"Unrealistic romantic." He pressed nearer, temple to temple already. "I promise, Lucius."

Lips brushed his own, tender, sweet, the way Lucius was with him and no one else. Never anyone else. "Only when it comes to you," he whispered, verifying just what Severus had always thought.

"Bed now, I think, Lucius -- we have to be up early tomorrow, so..." His lips curled slowly, as he tugged at Lucius slightly. "Let's not think about any of it for a few hours..."

"And what would you rather think about, Sev...?" Those words teased him, just as Lucius's hands on him did the same. "Hm?"

Over the edges of his hips, and across to the front, for just a moment. Summer weight robes parted easily for Lucius, and Severus gave a soft moan as familiar fingers touched him. Lucius touched him there probably more than he touched himself there. "You."

"Yes," Lucius agreed, going down on his knees slowly, so slowly. Kisses marked the path his lips took on the way down, teasing slowly past breastbone, diaphragm and belly, kissing lightly at thighs before taking him in entirely.

It was a tease at which Lucius was adept -- making him harder than ironwood, making him want more than he did to start with. Lucius's mouth pulled at him, tenderly, knowing just how to get the most reaction in the shortest amount of time. A press of tongue, a twist of lip, a jab against the weeping slit, and Severus's knees buckled once. "Bed, Lucius..."

The sound of a muffled chuckle came against his flesh, Lucius nuzzling at him for another moment. "So you won't fall over?" he finally teased.

"So I can feel silk sheets one more night," Severus corrected, even if Lucius had been right in the first place. He took a step back, unsteady, trying to coax Lucius to go with him in it.

"I'll send some with you," Lucius promised, crawling after him slowly on his knees.

"Malfoys aren't supposed to have rugburn, are they?" Severus sat on the edge of the bed, and parted his knees for Lucius. "Much better."

"Malfoys aren't supposed to have quite a lot of things," Lucius teased, sliding between Severus's thighs. The other boy's seated position made things much easier for him, and he took heated flesh into his mouth once again, cradling the delicious weight of Severus's balls in one cupped hand as he suckled.

"It's a good thing that we don't.. ohh, that we don't care." Severus leaned back on his palms, lifting his hips towards Lucius's mouth. Suction that threatened to pull his thoughts clean out of his mind, agile hands playing at him like they would weave a careful spell in the air. "Not much more, Lucius -- I'm so, so close, Lucius..."

The threat of coming was met with an even deeper suction, a finger slipping back to rub tenderly at the entrance to his body. He could feel it gathering deep in his belly, pushing at him, bringing him closer to coming -- and then he was there, heels digging against the floor as he arched against that finger and up to Lucius's mouth.

Once he'd licked away the last strand of wetness, Lucius rose, pushing him back onto the bed and kissing him deeply, the taste of Severus still on his lips. It mingled between them, tongues teasing back and forth, Lucius's cock pressing against his thigh. It was a tang that Severus could never get used to properly, thick on their tongues still when he broke the kiss. "Thank you, Lucius..." He brought languid arms up to hold his lover, to hug him closer. "Can I reciprocate...?"

"Mmmmmhmmm," Lucius agreed. "Or maybe you'd rather I have you?" he whispered naughtily in Severus's ear, nibbling at the lobe with a little laugh.

Wet pressure there always shot a shiver down Severus's spine. "Two weeks is a long time not to have that..." It was a soft, amused agreement which Severus found hard to voice since his throat felt as if it were strangling on him when Lucius nibbled again.

"I'll go mad without you, Sevvie," Lucius promised, his own robes coming open as he settled firmly against him, pushing him further back onto the bed. Hands moved to hold his wrists, to tug him tightly down. "Oh, Merlin, yes..."

Severus's long body stretched languidly, and he caught a heel on the edge of the bed to help position them both better. "Now, Lucius -- fast as you can manage..."

Those words were all it took, and Lucius was at him, in him, barely lubricated by some half-hidden flick of a spell as he sank deep and hard. "Oh, GOD!"

"Merlin." Severus's voice was a sweet-sounding, tense gasp, but he managed to stay so much calmer than he had just two years before. His thighs squeezed at Lucius's hips, one leg dragging the older boy closer. They'd done it so often that it was almost second nature. "Two weeks, Lucius..."

"I can't live without you for that long," the blond groaned, pulling out of Severus only to trust back in with force enough to bruise him, likely. "Won't be able to sleep or, or do anything..."

"You're exaggerating," Severus sighed, slipping one wrist free of Lucius's clutch, to claw at the bedding behind his head. "Just there, Lucius... Merlin, that feels so... oh."

"Not exaggerating," Lucius panted, pushing deep, the feel of it deliriously good. "Oh, God. Oh, Merlin. Oh, Sev... unh!"

Severus's fingers pulled at the bedding again, as his lean frame arched up to Lucius's intrusion. Every motion he made seemed to goad Lucius on further, hard jolts of motion that rocked their bodies on the mattress. If he didn't use a potion the next morning, he'd be sore for days... An idea which was half appealing.

"Almost there, Lucius, almost there, just harder, please, Lucius, harder for me..."

The request was granted, Lucius jerking up onto his knees, sliding them partially beneath Severus's ass so that he was angled deliciously. Every push of his hips was met with a pull of Severus's body, Lucius's fingers digging into his flesh, slamming him up to meet the impossibly rough thrusts that were filling him, bruising him, making him belong. "Fuck. Fuck. Sev!"

There was a rawness in what they accomplished in the summer months, with little magic at all at their disposal, that couldn't be matched with the most fanciful of spells. Just body to body, and a bit of lubrication, fighting against the other. A race, Severus thought hazily, as he unclawed one hand from the bedding to wrap it around his weeping cock.

"Come for me," Lucius moaned. "Come on, Severus, come for me, I want to feel your ass when you do..."

"You do, don't... oh, don't you?" Words straggled into the air around them after that, soft whimpers as Severus coaxed himself closer to release. His slender fingers stroked and clutched in mimicry of the way that Lucius so often did. They matched those last staggering thrusts that finally tossed him over the edge, Lucius crying out as he tightened, falling over him as he came.

"My Sevvie," he whispered moments later, stroking fingers through silky black strands of hair. "Mine..."

"I think it got hotter in here," Severus tried to complain. "Yes, yours entirely, Lucius -- now stop squishing me, before we end up plastered together like this."

Grumbling, Lucius fell to the side, hair sweat-soaked, and took a deep breath. "Mmm. I'll miss you desperately," he sighed.

Severus took the opportunity to sit up a little, slipping off his robe entirely and tossing it onto the floor. His eyes closed a little, as he looked back at the blond-haired boy. "You'll probably be busy, Lucius..."

"I will be," Lucius agreed. "There's likely no point in whining about it, but it makes me feel better about the whole thing," he decided.

"Well, I don't plan on whining," Severus decided softly. He stretched out beside Lucius, laying on his belly so he could better look at his friend. "I just hope we don't do this again next year."

Lucius's nose wrinkled as he turned his face to look at Severus. "I can't imagine she'd come back EVERY summer, d'you? And even if she does, she might as well become accustomed to you, Severus. Just because I am required to wed doesn't mean that I'm at all likely to give you up."

"I hope you don't." He dropped his head, to nestle his face against Lucius's chest. "I really hope that you don't, Lucius..."

"I promise," the blond whispered, kissing the top of Severus's sweat-soaked head. "I promise, Sevvie."

---

The girl had been disgustingly pretty. Severus couldn't help but recall her lithe grace, delicate features, small nose and grey-blue eyes. He'd taken a disliking to her before she could even introduce herself in perfectly practiced English.

It had been perfect, trained in those upper-cultural tones that not even Lucius had down so well. Severus knew he certainly didn't, but before he could embarrass Uncle Arioch by making some snide remark, he had arrived.

Words had passed between Voldemort and Uncle Arioch, while Severus watched nervously. His fingers had clutched tightly to the handle of his trunk, which Voldemort had sent away with an effortless spell. Then he'd reached his hand out for Severus's fingers, and the boy had grasped a cool, calm hand with his warmer fingers.

He was still holding onto that hand when the tugging wrench of Apparation was over.

"Where... where are we, sir?"

"My home, Severus," Voldemort replied easily, and with a wave of his hand, light came into existence.

The room they were in was quite obviously a bedroom, though it was nothing like Lucius's. It was small and dark, the light kept out by heavy damask curtains. It was also extraordinarily cool, the air whispering past him, a fan whirling silently on the ceiling above. His trunk lay at the foot of it, carefully placed.

"Muggles," the man announced, "are not very admirable creatures; however, they occasionally have brilliant ideas, usually thought up by men who would have done well had they been wizards, Severus. For example, they have learned to cool the air inside of a home in just such a way as it is pleasant. This will be your room for the whole of your stay."

Presumably to be kept there, too, for the whole of his stay. Severus was suddenly glad, as he glanced around at the dark walls, that he'd brought so much with him. Two weeks there would be depressing to say the least, if he didn't keep himself well occupied. But better depressed than angry, as he suspected extended exposure to Narcissa would do to him.

"Thank you, sir." He slid his fingers from the man's hand, walked away a bit towards the trunk. "Are we in a muggle area, sir...?" To be in a place that had muggle inventions meant that muggle energy was required.

"Close by one, yes," Voldemort responded quietly. "I understand that you are quite a bright young man, Severus. Very apt at learning."

Severus looked back over his shoulder at the dark-haired man, nodding politely as he could. "Yes, sir. I am brilliant, and I'm not afraid to say so. Only, the headmaster doesn't like to let me experiment spells on animals any longer."

"With what sorts of spells are you experimenting, Severus?" Voldemort asked him most politely, fingers tracing the nape of his neck most tenderly for a moment.

That touch made him shiver a little -- it wasn't quite the same way that Lucius did it, but it was similar to Lucius's touch. "Avada Kedavra, the Cruciatus, Imperio..." Things he hadn't had much chance to experiment with thanks to Hogwarts. "I've had more luck with Imperio at school than anything else."

"Really?" The near purr was accompanied by another tender stroke of fingers. "Would you like to come downstairs to the library and tell me about these... experiments?"

Turning more, Severus tilted his head up just enough to look up to Voldemort's brilliant green eyes. "Yes, sir, I would, only..." Only he was being impudent, and he knew it -- knowing it never really helped Severus much. "Only, I don't know what you want me to call you."

"You may call me Tom," the man nearly purred, hand falling to the small of his back. "I would like that very much."

Strangely, having a name to call him, something that didn't command respect thanks to a history that he'd never actually witnessed up close, soothed Severus. "Tom." Simple, plain, but it was also blank in Severus's mind. Now he was safe to make his own decisions on the man, with a blank name to apply them to. "Yes, I like calling you that better than Voldemort."

"That's very good," Voldemort said, and gave him a smile that chilled him... or perhaps it was just the cool air of the house. "Shall we adjourn to the library, then?"

"Yes, Tom -- I'd like that, I think..." It had to be better than that small room. He started for the door, which pulled him away from the hand that had been so low on his back. "Are you.... Uncle Arioch said you had things you might teach me."

"Yes, a great many things," the older man agreed. "You're going to be a very clever pupil, I have no doubts. Your parents were both brilliant students, as well, and your cousin tells me that you are very much like the two of them. I cannot wait."


Encouraging, just like Dumbledore had been in those first two years at the school. He couldn't help the smile that curled his lips. "But I can't see how -- the ministry would kick me out of Hogwarts if I used magic over the summer. Which means I can't show you what I know, and if I can't do that..."

"Oh, there are ways," he was told mysteriously. "Ways and ways. Have you not seen young Lucius occasionally use magic outside of school?"

"Yes, but he only uses his father's school wand." Sometimes. And then there was that... something that Lucius used, sleight of hand of spell, that lubricated for their play. That thought made Severus pause in the hallway, half in thought, half waiting for Tom to follow him so that he wouldn't have to lead to foreign territory.

"The Ministry, for all that it would like to pretend otherwise, is not capable of knowing everything," Tom assured him, moving past him easily and into another room.

Leaving Severus to follow him. "Is it -- Tom, is it always so dark in here...?" The chill was nice, but somehow the muggy heat that seeped into Malfoy Manor was much more comforting.

"Do you not like the dark, Severus?" It was a smooth question, almost oily. "Does the dark... frighten you, perhaps?"

"Never." Severus's chin lifted a bit defiantly. "There isn't anything in the dark that isn't there in the light, after all."

"And you believe this, to the depths of you?"

"Yes I do, sir. Even werewolves and vampires -- because it isn't as if they stop existing when the lights come out. Grandfather always told me to be more afraid of the things that hide in plain daylight. Dark isn't any more dangerous than daylight, after all." His slender fingers clasped loosely behind his back as he walked beside Tom.

"You're a very bright young man," Voldemort praised. "Your grandfather was quite right. Sometimes, the things that walk in plain daylight are much more terrifying than anything which hides in darkness. Take Aurors, for example. They are not the be all end all of goodness they pretend to be, are they? No more than common murderers with the Ministry's permission to carry about their slayings with no consequences, and yet they walk about in full day, continue to carry their wands, despite the fact that they murdered your parents."

"They aren't bothered by it, though. They think they did right in their actions... because those who don't agree with them are against them." Severus said that firmly, but had to push down a knot in his throat; Potter and Black would probably be Aurors one day. And they would carry on the black-and-white tradition of their chosen craft. "Dumbledore is like that, too."

"Yesss...." That was nearly hissed, Voldemort's fingers tensing visibly for a moment. "Dumbledore. Very much the brave Gryffindor. Very afraid of a world in which there is no black and white, only grey. Most unfortunate."

"I used to like him a great deal," Severus went on, "because he was nice to me, and he taught me things that I'd never thought of before." That book, that had been a turning point for Lucius and him, something for which he felt he still should've been grateful. If the headmaster hadn't shown such a cold disregard for him for a simple prank... "Lucius had always told me that was a poor idea."

"Lucius is also an auspicious young man," Voldemort replied, lightly pressing Severus towards a settee and settling him into the thing with care. "He was not wrong in that matter. Do you think he will get along well with Narcissa?"

"I don't know." He still hoped that they hated each other. If at all possible, he wanted Narcissa to hate Lucius, and vice versa. That would make his life a wonderful thing, he noted as he sat up a bit straighter, hands folded in his lap neatly.

"Was she not lovely enough for your friend?" Voldemort asked him, a hand placed gently over his own clasped fingers.

Not lovely -- beautiful, in the way people were in book illustrations. Just like Lucius was, a classical beauty that stirred things in Severus simply with mere thoughts of him. "Yes..." Tom's fingers over his felt a bit strange, and he looked down at them. Not aristocrat's lazy hands -- they were marked from magical experiments gone awry, and had that same vaguely stained cast that his grandfather's hands had always had.

"Then why do you hesitate?" The question seemed almost sly in its own way, and the fingers on his own were perhaps too close to him for comfort.

"He's mine." Severus glanced up from studying the hands of the powerful wizard beside him, and decided to study his eyes instead. "That's why."

"Jealousy," Voldemort purred. "A very powerful emotion. One that can be used against you, Severus, as you should learn."

"How...?" Curiosity pushed to the surface of his expressions, and something to think on kept his mind from drifting too far into what he currently classified as forbidden.

"Imagine that someone who hates you knows of your jealousy concerning him," the voice whispered in his ear, that hand moving slightly higher, touching his thigh, making him nervous. "Imagine what they could do to humiliate you, Severus. To hurt you..."

"Who... who would bother...?" He shifted faintly, away from that hand, as he continued to look up to brilliant green yes. They seemed silver-flecked, instead of red as they had been that time that Lucius had been acting so strange.

"There's no one who hates you enough to do such a thing, Severus?" Fingers, sneaking higher, caressing over a hip, touching him. "No one who would like to make you suffer, see you humiliated...?"

"I've only a jealousy problem when... when the threat is real," Severus countered in a soft sound. One hand twitched, ever so slightly, as if to bat Tom further back from him. But there was such power there. "Potter and Black might hate me, but... but they can't touch Lucius, wouldn't."

"But they could say things. They could spread rumors. They could make him hate you..." the man whispered, hand finally falling directly over the soft flesh at Severus's groin. "They could destroy you with just a few words. Isn't that a sort of darkness worse than any magic?"

Lucius wouldn't believe it. But that thought died before it reached his tongue. "S-sir... what're you doing?" It was obvious, he thought stupidly at himself. It was obvious what that hand was doing there.

"What do you think I'm doing, Severus? For what do you think you're here?" And oh, the smirk on his face was almost evil, completely wicked.

"T-to learn spells, to be someplace where I won't have to look at her for two.. two whole weeks -- not to... not for this. I have Lucius for this, sir, I..."

"And now Lucius has Narcissa," Voldemort whispered in his ear. "And you have me. You would not turn me down, would you, Severus?" The words bit, snapped, powerfully.

Not an instant acquiescence, but a soft whimper, a wordless noise. "No, sir, but... why?" Why bother with him, why put him in that position...

"Because you are a lovely boy, Severus. Because you have been meant to be mine for many years now. Because I say so." The feel of a slap firm against his cheek was almost enough to send the black-haired boy into shock. "You will not question me."

"No, sir. Tom." Severus's voice shook faintly, dark eyes painfully wide in the firelight's dancing tongues. He had rough-housed before, dueled a few times, and tussled with Lucius almost daily. But he couldn't remember being hit on his face by anyone.

"You remember that," Voldemort told him, pushing him down onto the settee, hands stroking away his robes. "You never forget that, Severus."

"I won't..." There was power in the touch of those fingers, power that sparked Severus to decide something. Lay there in shock, or savor the newness and the power in the man's touch.

He chose power, for his sanity's sake.

---

"Sev!" Lucius had never seemed so happy to see him, the blond's entire face lighting up brilliantly at the sight of him. It wouldn't have, Severus knew, if anyone had been able to see him, but when it was just them...

When it was just them...

"How were your two weeks...?" Severus couldn't muster the same enthusiasm -- only relief at being back to the muggy heat of the manor, and back to Lucius. So his smile was hard, mirroring poorly Lucius's smile, and he set his trunk down with shaking fingers at the end of Lucius's bed. Everything packed so neatly away into that trunk.

Including, for a thirteen hour period the previous Friday, his own body. Naked, wretchedly bloody, crunched in on himself, shaking with fear and dread after he'd been locked into the small space, he'd screamed his throat raw. The trunk was let to fall from his grasp with clear distaste.

Malfoy's head tipped to the side, his hand reaching out, thumb lightly caressing over the line of Severus's jaw. "You don't seem happy to see me. Did you have such a very good time, then?"

The muscles under that thumb twitched, tensing just as the barely perceivable jerk of his head away from Lucius's touch. "No, I'm glad to be back home..."

"Sevvie." It was such a soft whisper, arms coming around him, lips pressed to a cheek that had been bruised more than once. "I missed you."

"Did you?" There was almost soft accusation in Severus's voice, as he stood stiffly in Lucius's arms. He'd learned all about discretion over those two weeks, something he'd never had before. And all about hiding things, and what should be hidden from the world. Concepts that had barely ever entered his mind, now at the fore of it. "Did you think of me, Lucius?"

"Every day," Lucius replied, frowning and pulling away from him. "What's wrong with you, Severus?"

He wished he had been left to die in that trunk, instead of simply left in there until he'd had to find a way to force his way out of it from within, with what magic trickled to the surface. "Nothing." Everything, only he knew better than to say it aloud, now. And despite Lucius pulling away, Severus was still holding perfectly still, looking at some unseen point in the room for a moment. "Tell me about your weeks, Lucius?"

"They were boring and she fawned all over me and spoke a lot of French. I missed you," Lucius told him one last time, voice turning almost cool. Yes, there was that face, that Malfoy face, impersonal, the face Lucius never gave him.

Narcissa, fawning or not, probably didn't get that, he thought fleetingly, bitterly.

"I was miserable. I hate your father for sending me..." A bare, tight whisper, as if he was afraid someone were listening.

That seemed to melt the other boy, who promptly pulled him close again, burying his face in black hair gone horribly oily. Severus hadn't washed it since Tom had told him how soft and lovely it was. "Come on," Lucius whispered. "Come and take a bath and I'll wash your hair for you. You like that. I'll make it up to you, Sevvie. You know I didn't want for you to go."

It was the little things with which Severus had been able to spite the other man without being outright defiant of him. And that power. He shuddered to think of the power that man had wielded, power that Lucius could wield against him in the same ways, if the urge arose. "I'm not ever going again." For all that he cared, he never wanted to leave Malfoy Manor again, even if it was to go back to school where he could use normal sorts of magic. His head dropped forwards against Lucius's shoulder, forehead pressed to the cool fabric of his shirt. "Ever."

"I won't make you," Lucius replied, slightly alarmed. "Sev, are you sure you're all right?"

Discretion, a voice seemed to whisper in the back of his mind. "I'll be all right." Will be -- he didn't want to lie to Lucius and say that he was all right in that moment. "I've to be."

Those grey eyes, so deep, seemed confused, aching, but beneath all of that, there was some sort of terrible knowledge. Even Lucius could sense... things. Severus so seldom slipped into his older speech patterns -- only when he was ill, or something was wrong did he do that. "I'll run you a bath," Lucius murmured, kissing Severus's temple.

Then Lucius pulled away again, leaving Severus standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. The dark-haired boy looked as lost as he had when he was a first-year in Hogwarts, only the cold fearless glint wasn't there. He felt tired and battered from within, and it showed in faint lines of strain under his obsidian eyes. "I'd like that." His own slim hand was taken in Lucius's long fingers (had his hands grown while Severus had been gone? Perhaps all of him had? He seemed taller...) and he was pulled tenderly to the bathroom, undressed just as gently. No mention was made of the bruises, though the confusion that had been on Lucius's face was gone now, replaced by a steely and completely useless fury.

"Come on, Sevvie," he said then, simply, and turned on the water for the bath.

Severus watched with drifting detachment as Lucius carefully ran a tub full of perfectly temperate water. It was too hot outside for a very hot bath, but warm seemed a wise thing given how Severus stood as if afraid to crack some ice deep within him. "You can't call me that in public anymore, Lucius... but don't call me anything but in private," Severus murmured. Then Lucius' hand on the small of his back startled him right into the tub.

"All right, Sevvie." It was quiet acquiescence, not something he'd ever expected to get from Lucius, and the other boy stripped off his own lightweight silk summer robes to climb into the tub, helping Severus into it as well and cradling him between milk-pale thighs. "Will you tell me?"

A soft hiss slipped from Severus's lips as he settled into the water; it was just temperate enough to ease knotted muscles somewhat. "You don't want to know... and it doesn't make a difference if you did."

"It might make a difference to me," the blond offered, kissing the back of his neck through tangled strands of hair.

And then it was gone from his reach, Severus having jerked away just far enough. "I've... no want for you to know the details. Only... I would no more disobey him than you would... now."

"All right, Sevvie." There would be no questions asked, though he heard something heavy in Lucius's voice. "Lean back now, and I'll dampen your hair..."


Clean water sluiced over his hair, then fingers touched his scalp. Porrima had tastes in shampoo that Lucius shared, so Lucius's bath had a stock of expensive bottles, costly soaps that soothed and tingled. Less aesthetically and sensually pleasing, the shampooing loosened scabs and flakes of blood. "Next time we're in Diagon Alley, Lucius, I want to get a bigger trunk." Severus's voice held steady now, calmer, if still clearly tired. He continued to sag further back against Lucius, by slow degrees.

"I'll get you anything you want," Lucius promised him almost tenderly, mouth lightly pressed to a soapy shoulder for just a moment. His fingers didn't stop their sensitive massage of his scalp, the slow, steady motions that cleaned the filthy lengths of his hair. "We'll go tomorrow."

"It's not a rush. As long as it's a different one before I have to go anywhere..." He didn't want to conceivably end up locked in any trunk again, but at least the next one should be bigger, so that he didn't have to be bent double to be shoved away into it. "Your father is going to have to fix some of my things... a lot of it is... broken now." His toys, his precious few amusements, had been pointedly destroyed. Oh, there had been a lesson behind it -- that he was too old, at a few weeks shy of fifteen, to be playing with toys.

"I have money," Lucius told him. "I'll replace anything you ask for, Sevvie." It was indulgence, it was an apology for things untold, unspoken, it was undeniable adoration, perhaps even love. Water sluiced through his sudsy locks, rinsing his head clean before Lucius began shampooing it a second time.

Love. Severus didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think of the consequences of anything in that realm. No, not love, not anymore. Safety, calm... yes. He ducked his head down, to look at the flecks of grime that floated and danced in the green-blue water before they clung to the suds. "I only want what's mine. Not... a replacement."

"...all right." Even that seemed subdued, as if the changes were too obvious for Lucius to pretend, as if it hurt him.

"I don't even have you any longer," Severus drawled in a softly tense voice. "I don't even have me any longer. At least... at least let me keep my same damned toys."

"What did I do?" Lucius's voice was tense. "I don't understand why you don't have me anymore, Severus. I'm still here, I'm still yours as I've been since the very first day. You can keep your toys. I'll make sure they're fixed, only tell me, for Merlin's sake, why? Why?" Why had he changed, why didn't he love Lucius anymore, half a dozen things could be meant by that why, though Severus knew exactly what the question really was.

Perhaps it was best to leave Lucius thinking that things had changed. It would make things neater, just like what Tom wanted from him. Stop loving Lucius, be hated by Lucius, become something less than friends. Trudge on day by day by day until he was so set on that path that not trudging on would be unthinkable.

He already felt halfway there, and he'd only been home for a few hours, alone with Lucius for less than one. "You didn't do anything wrong, Lucius."

"Then why are you behaving as though I have?" He could feel the vague trembling of fingers on him, though that quiet, cultured voice remained desperately steady.

Lucius's self-righteous, hurt aura seemed to strike Severus with just the right amount of irony. He stifled a soft chuckle, turning his head just enough to lay a cheek against Lucius's chest. That sank him further under the water, one leg twisting up and tucking, but it was comfortable despite the crackle of suds near his ear. "Am I?"

"You know you are, you obnoxious bastard!" Lucius hissed angrily, fingers removed entirely from Severus's black hair. "You know you are!"

Severus stiffened at the angry hiss so near his head. Tom liked to strike at his head, knowing it was still a novel thing, something that sent him reeling no matter how prepared he thought himself for it. He didn't dare to pull away from Lucius, though -- better to be cast out with Lucius's own hand than do it himself. "Go on, toss me out," Severus whispered. His voice quavered, throat tense. "It'd be a high point if I held it against the past two weeks and compared..."

"Sevvie, please..." It was a hoarse whisper, that word difficult for Lucius to say, and his arms wrapped tightly around Severus's shoulders again. "Please, Sevvie..."

"I'll just curl up against your door -- at least here it's warm enough to feel my fingers all the time. If you let me do that, then I can hear you sleep, and we can be little again, like it was before I knew what sex and power was, and how fucking much it could hurt--" His voice cracked into a choked silence, and the shoulders Lucius held started to shake.

"Shhhh. Shhh." He was pulled back against the other boy, rocked tenderly. "I'm so sorry, Sevvie. I'm so sorry. I love you. I'm so sorry..."

"You knew what was going to happen, no one told me -- I never, never wanted to do that with anyone but you, and he broke... broke everything, shoved me in there, he, he..." He. Nothing else left Severus, except for choked whines of agony and belated shock as Lucius rocked him in their shared, decadently scented bath. He curled closer now, not caring that there were still suds on him, and brought one hand up between them to clutch clawingly at Lucius's chest.

"I didn't know. I swear to you. I swear. I didn't know. Father said... Father said..." Lucius seemed as shocked as he had been, somehow. "Father said it was just for a couple of weeks. Just new spells. Nothing bad. Nothing. I swear, Sevvie. I swear. I didn't know..."

Fingers dug against Lucius's skin, but not with malice. "I hate him..." It was half a hiss, and half an angry howl, as Severus curled closer, pressing wetly against Lucius.

"You don't ever have to go back," Lucius promised him, not minding the sharp feel of fingernails cutting into him. They both knew that it was a lie, that if the Lord wanted him back, he would go, and neither of them could stop it or would even try, but it was a pretty promise all the same, soothing to his ears.

Severus could live that lie, he decided. Because it was all lies, back as far as his grandfather's cover-up of the deeper meanings of what his parents had been a part of. One poorly packaged lie on top of another, taped together with threads of truths. It wasn't pretty but it functioned, and Severus, as shaken as he was as he sat there, badly wanted something that functioned. "Thank you, Lucius..."

"Sevvie. My Sevvie..." It seemed so sorrowful, and the arms that held him tight came even closer around him. "It will get better. I promise you. I'll make it better somehow..."

More lies. Severus was going to choke to death on them. Because Lucius was going to graduate Hogwarts in two years; Lucius was going to marry; Lucius was going to have an heir; and Lucius was going to be a model husband and breeder. He'd forget Severus, and the rest of Severus's life would pass as those two hellish weeks had.

"I love you." One truth, worthless as it was, to hold the lies all together. He ducked his wet head closer to Lucius for a moment, before pulling back to look at him. "Help... me finish washing?"

"And tomorrow, we'll go shopping," Lucius swore to him on a whisper, hands gentle on his flesh, close, warm.

"Yes." There was no smile in Severus to dredge up, but in a few weeks time, he hoped he could gather it up again. "And... the gardens. It's so warm out... I've missed that, missed you." Malfoy Manor was a place that was alive, even in the pits of cold that were the winter holidays. His fingers unclawed slowly, clutching with the pads of his fingers rather than the nails.

"Come on, Sevvie." There was soap now, smoothing over him, fresh water rinsing through his hair. "We'll be done in just a minute. Then, we'll lay down for a while..."

Lucius was so gentle with him, tender. That was something to keep hidden from the world, for Lucius's sake. Things like that could be used against a man that was the sort Lucius was... "No more thinking, either."

Beyond that, Severus was silent, aiding in the rinsing off. He dampened Lucius's hair, and shampooed that for the other boy, but by the time his fingers were done running through it, stroking over platinum strands and his scalp, Severus was weighing heavily against Lucius's chest with exhaustion. Lucius had to rinse it away himself.

The blond levered him up out of the tub, dried him off and herded him towards the bed. The silver silk sheets that had been on the bed before Severus had left had obviously been cleaned and replaced, and he slid into them gratefully, Lucius curling around him, arms wrapping him close and tight. "I slept on cotton while you were gone," he whispered in Severus's ear. "I couldn't sleep without you, Sevvie. It was awful. I'm so sorry."

Lucius Malfoy, sleeping on cotton? A horror comparable to sleeping in blood, or beneath a slumbering dark wizard. Severus's eyebrows twitched for a moment, and any comment was bitten back down as he closed his eyes. "It was awful..." And didn't seem to be ready to get much better, other than letting him return to his old existence. "The house elves... had better let us sleep in."

"If they know what's good for them," Lucius agreed, and worriedly wrapped Severus up tightly, close and safe... he hoped. "Sleep now," he whispered. "Sleep. It will get better, Sevvie."

No more words filled the humid air -- only Severus rocking himself ever so faintly, buttressed closely against Lucius until, perhaps hours later, he relaxed enough to sleep.

---

"No, really," Remus objected, looking at him in the flickering light cast in Severus's little niche. School had been in for almost three weeks and they'd been placed together in Divination, both of them working on the same project. "I'm good at this. It's not like potions..." Despite Severus's tutoring, he was still a disaster at anything practical in the class. Still, that was better than the utter typhoon he'd been declared before.

"And why should I take your word for that?" Severus glanced up from the books strewn between them on the table, half-studying Remus. He certainly seemed confident, while in matters of potions, he had no confidence at all.

"Because it's easy. Because the nighttime sky can be a thing of beauty and a thing of terror, and really, once you understand that..." Remus smiled at him sadly. "Once you understand that, it's all you need to know."

"You and your star-gazing," Severus muttered. The nighttime sky at least meant that you were free, that you were somewhere... "You should be taking astronomy, not Divination."

Remus shrugged. "I'm taking both. When you get right down to it, it helps you to understand Divination a lot better. I prefer that sort of Divination, really. It's much more clear-cut than gazing into tea cups and crystal balls."

"It's still all in your mind." Severus closed one book, looking at Remus almost boredly. "So, we have to write up a two foot piece of parchment on what we foresee in each other's future. Shall we roll dice to figure out what we'll have happen to the other person, or actually try to make this work?"

The grin in the Gryffindor's face was actually rather nice to see, though if Severus had known that it was because he, a Slytherin to the core, sounded just like Sirius in that moment, he would have been furious. "We'll try to make it work. THEN, we'll roll dice if we can't."

"You can start first, then," Severus granted him, "Method of your choice." While Lupin did that, Severus planned on imagining up some future for the other fifth year.

"Do it properly," Remus chided him, and began to work on Severus's chart. He knew the other boy's date of birth, the hour and moment, all sorts of things. They'd been partners in Divination long enough for him to know most of what he needed to chart Severus appropriately.

"I still think it's perfectly asinine, though -- charting by all of that... what does it matter? How many other people were born that same time, moment?"

"Yes, but that's where Arithmancy comes in. Everyone treats them separately, but they're both forms of Divination, really, just one's to do with numbers and one's to do with... hm, I suppose you could call it talent. It's more difficult to get real answers with Divination, impossible if you don't have the... the little knack for it. It's like any other form of magic. You know," Remus said with a smile that seemed almost amused. "Magical. Still," he continued. "If you combine them, you get the possible and the personal nicely. Not that they teach it that way."

"But there are twists that even numbers can't account for. Unexpected happenings that are so farfetched that one can't predict them. Arithmancy claims to read the past, too, doesn't it? But you can't read my past any more than you can read my future, Lupin." Severus knew the other boy took both classes -- while Severus simply took a practicum on potions, declining any further study of babble than he had to take.

"Well, we'll see, won't we?" Remus said, raising both eyebrows. "Maybe I'll chart you for Arithmancy, too, and see what I come up with."

"And maybe I can sit and have a good laugh," Severus agreed. If he didn't have so little faith in the art, he would've been frightened that Lupin could see his past. "Hmn. Professor Trevaln likes tea-leaves, doesn't she?"

"Adores them," the Gryffindor acknowledged with a roll of his eyes. "They're really not as useful as a lot of other methods, though."

"That's a pity, because I could really go for a cup of tea right now." Severus gave Remus a questioning glance. "I'm going to the kitchens to get one, in fact -- do you want one?"

"You know where the kitchens are?" Those golden eyes lit up brightly, curiosity stamped upon his face. "Can I come? How do you get there? What's in it? I've heard they toss bad house elves in the water when they're boiling the boys' bedding from the Slytherin dorms," he teased.

"The sixth year's bedding in particular," Severus agreed in a bland tone. "Yes, I'll show you -- just leave your books there, it isn't as if they'll go anywhere." Not in his niche, what he used to tutor Lupin on potions, and for solitude with Lucius. "Lucius and I go there for tea all the time."

"I'll just bet," Remus muttered under his breath, then grinned. "Well, it's pretty neat that you found it, still," he decided with a nod. "I've found a few other things -- you know, rooms that appear and disappear almost at random, that kind of thing -- but I haven't stumbled across a way the kitchens just yet."

"Kitchen is over by the Hufflepuffs common rooms. Just like the library is near the Ravenclaws..." The infirmary near the Gryffindors, and the sprawling expanse of the dungeons at the hands of the Slytherins. Not waiting to see if Remus was following him, Severus started towards the exit, out into the hallway.

"Like the infirmary is near Gryffindor," Remus echoed his thoughts wryly, shaking his head. "So, what does go on in the kitchens?"

"The house elves make food. What do you expect to go on in a kitchen?" Severus asked, looking over at him suspiciously. As if anything else went on there!

"Well, cooking and whatnot, but you never know. My mum does all kinds of things in the kitchen," Remus replied, shrugging. "She folds laundry and does crossword puzzles and that sort of thing."

"Yes, but you sounded like you were expecting something insidious," Severus pointed out to Lupin, looking back over his shoulder. "Don't forget to mind every sixth step, or I'm not bothering to pull you out of the stairs."

He could almost feel the weight of Remus rolling his eyes. "Yes, Dad," the other boy teased, snickering. It was almost worth wishing that Remus had been anything but a Gryffindor.

"You should be grateful that I'm even bothering to show you, when I could've already been halfway back from there," Severus pointed out. Still, Remus was a Gryffindor -- which changed the undercurrent of interactions just enough.

"I promise to bow down appropriately at a later date," Remus laughed, and they both knew he was doing nothing but teasing.

"Do you? Be careful not to do it in public -- who knows what would become of you if you were seen given a Slytherin any sort of respect." Severus rounded a corner, and looked thoughtful for a moment, as if unsure as to where they were going. Then he started down the hallway.

"You're not lost, are you?" Remus asked him almost suspiciously, grinning as Severus glared at him. "Hey, no need to light me on fire with a glare, Severus!"


"You want to be lit on fire? Because I can do it..." Severus took a sudden sharp turn right, then a left, then another right -- zigzagging through a series of hallways. "And I can do it without a wand!"

"No, thanks!" the Gryffindor laughed, watching most carefully where they were going so that he could remember it later. "Wow. I didn't know all of this was even down here!"

"All of what? The hallways?" He took one last turn, that led them to a set of doors that seemed to shift. "They rearrange themselves, but it's always five lefts, with a right every other time."

"That makes a sort of sense," Remus decided thoughtfully. "How do they manage that, I wonder? Like the stairs, probably. I'd just think that it would be more difficult with hallways..."

"What were you, Lupin, raised by muggles?" Severus snorted as he laid a hand on one doorknob. "Really. It's simply magic. Questioning magic that way can drive you mad, you know."

"I'm just curious," Remus protested. "I mean, hallways moving doesn't really seem like it ought to work, now does it? I can comprehend gnawing steps, moving stairs, even shifting towers, but..."

"Perhaps they hop over each other, or move forwards and back like trains do. Maybe the bricks shift. I don't know -- how does the gateway to Diagon Alley open, hmn?" Severus yanked the over-sized door open, and then moved into the bustling, spacious room beyond.

The Kitchens.

"Now my head is spinning," the Gryffindor boy said dryly as half a dozen house elves came running, squealing, begging to be allowed to feed them. "Could I have cream puffs and some tea, please?" he asked politely, tilting his head to the side.

"Yes, yes -- Dicky is getting you cream puffs and tea!" The nearest house elf bustled off, while the others crowded in on Severus.

He was used to that sort of treatment from the house-elves at Malfoy Manor, so he blandly requested his tea -- with sugar -- and a cupcake or two. Then he looked to Remus, flashing a grin. "Don't tell Lucius that I brought you here."

"Why, is he jealous?" Golden eyes gleamed with amusement, and the boy smiled. "Not that I blame him. I'd be jealous, too, I guess."

"Why would you be jealous...?" There was no denying that Lucius was -- he minded Severus tutoring Remus, so Merlin knew how he'd react to Severus socializing with him past that.

Remus looked at him thoughtfully, head tilting again. It was an almost puppyish sort of gesture. "Aren't you two, you know?" he asked, hand giving a rolling sort of gesture as if that clarified what he meant. "I mean, you know..."

Discretion, a voice whispered in his head. A voice that made his spine shiver, and made him tense slightly. "It doesn't really matter," was Severus's suddenly tense reply. No, the Gryffindors could hurt Lucius, could hurt him with that information, if he agreed outwardly to it. "We're close."

"Oh..." Remus said thoughtfully, smiling at him. "So you aren't together. Hmm. That's interesting..." he decided, moving to sit at the kitchen table as the Dicky the house elf returned with his tea and cream puffs, another elf hurrying along with Severus's requests. "Well..."

"I didn't say we weren't," Severus broke in, as he sat down across from Remus. "I just..." Oh, damn discretion. He hadn't learned it well enough, because he'd already slipped. Such a seemingly simple thing, to not say things... Head tilted down to look into his tea, Severus sighed. "He's marrying when he graduates. So, there's no point in anything being official or any of that nonsense."

"So perhaps there's some sort of... Hmmm. Possibility, then, if someone else should be interested in pursuing you?" It was a rather direct question for Remus, and a flush had set up high in his cheekbones. "Later, I mean. Sometime after that."


Severus's eyebrows crawled up a little, as he glanced up at Remus. His cheeks felt hot, and when that happened, it usually meant that olive-toned skin had turned red. Knowing it only made it worse, too. "I... I don't know? I... Our family arranged things for us, for when we're older, and I'm... I'm as locked into what I'll be doing as he is, once we're out of school. There isn't any choice..."

"Well, just think about it?" Remus whispered, leaning across and stuffing one of the little round cream puffs into Severus's mouth. "Think about it. We can talk about it later."

Sweet food, Remus had learned, was a good way to silence Severus, at least for a few moments. He chewed the cream puff, chased it with a sip of tea, and then sighed. All that, before he answered Remus's words with his own. "I'll think on it. Things might change. I... don't know what Tom would think of it... I'm going to be apprenticed to him the summer after I graduate."

"Tom?" the other boy asked, and there came that thoughtful expression again. "Who's Tom? Do you want to be apprenticed to him?"

"Tom's a... family friend. Of my parents, and Uncle Arioch. I..." Didn't want to face those two weeks every single day, for the rest of his life, but that looked to be his fate. "He's a brilliant man, with a lot to teach me. This summer, he taught me some wandless magic when I stayed with him for a couple of weeks."

"Wow. That's rare," Remus said, a little awed, nibbling at his plate of sweets. "I thought only the best wizards could do that, not that you aren't really impressive, Severus. Just, I thought it took years and years of practice..."

Or pitiful desperation. "I can unlock doors now, if I concentrate enough. Tom has very... intense ways of teaching." One of Severus's hands, strangely unsteady for him, picked up a chocolate biscuit to nibble at it.

"I can't decide if that sounds like fun or utterly horrific..." Remus said, then paused. He sniffed audibly, head turning. "Do you... No," he decided. "Never mind..."

"Never mind what?" That sudden odd gesture set Severus right on edge, and he straightened up in his seat.

"I just thought I smelled something burning," Remus replied, shrugging. "But I guess it was only my imagination. Are you almost finished? Eat your cupcake," he suggested, smiling.

"Leave a little of your tea and the leaves, so I can read them," Severus reminded him, as he peeled the paper off of his cupcake.

"Yes, Severus," he laughed, and obediently drank until that was all left in the cup.

Severus stood, his own cup still clutched in his hands. "Come on -- we'll go back to the room, and you can prove to me what crock Arithmancy is..."

---

"How dare you follow me!" Remus yelled, waking up both Peter and James. He knew better than to think that Sirius was asleep. "You complete prat! Dammit, Sirius! I told you, what I do with Severus is nothing to do with you!"

"Nothing to do with me, huh?" Sirius glanced edgily at his two other friends, then back to Remus. "I'm afraid he'll hurt you! I heard him bantering about being able to do wandless magic!"

"So? We're not children, Sirius! None of us! We're here to learn magic, and just because he happens to be very good at it is no reason to..."

"He's a Slytherin," Sirius hissed. "That means he's power hungry -- bastards like Snape and Malfoy are going to march right off to the Dark Lord once they're out of here, and everyone knows that!"

"Oh, really. Well, I'm a werewolf, Sirius. Maybe I'll just be marching with them according to the way you think?" Remus said, obviously hurt.

"You're not two incestuous, power-hungry sickos!" Sirius frowned at Remus, as he perched on the edge of his bed. "I'm just trying to look out for you!"

"You're just jealous because he's managed to help me in potions and you couldn't!" Remus declared, wondering if Sirius would spill the details of the conversation he'd held with Severus. He'd not smelled the other Gryffindor until it was too late, and even then it was likely only because he'd gotten very close to them. "Severus isn't bad!"

"You're right -- he isn't. He's perfect evil," Sirius growled, crossing his arms over his chest in a fit. "James -- don't you agree?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that he's--"

"I hope he does apprentice off to that Tom person he was fawning over," the black-haired boy went on, cutting James smoothly off.

"Sirius..." It was nearly growled, and the sheer golden glow in Remus's eyes declared the danger of the pregnant moon outside. "You leave Severus alone!"

"I will," Sirius half-heartedly promised. "But I won't let him hurt you, Remus."

"He's not going to hurt me, Siri..." Remus said, shaking his head. Not unless Severus chose to break his heart, he wouldn't. "It will be all right."

"He'd better not." Sirius glanced to the window, then back to Remus. "It's tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Yes." That probably explained a fair bit of Remus's pure aggression during that evening, not only with Sirius, but also in making the suggestion to Severus about what he wanted so badly... namely, a chance with the dark-haired Slytherin.

"Don't loll around him tomorrow, then," Sirius decided quietly. "I don't want Malfoy brought down on our heads..."

"Yeah," Peter said very timidly from his bed. "Malfoy is awfully scary, Moony."

"I have to go to the shack, anyway." The words didn't lack in bitterness. "But Paddy, leave Severus alone. Everything will be all right."

"All right. I won't follow you two anymore." Sirius flopped back on his bed, still looking at his brown-haired, meeker-seeming friend. "Those steps tried to eat me, after all."

Unable to help himself, Remus laughed. "You git. At least you could pay attention when you traipse along like that."

"You know Sirius," James yawned. "Always thinking with his..."

"Um, yes, and on that note," Peter said, "could we all go back to sleep now?"

"Yes, please," Sirius agreed, throwing a pillow at James's head.

But an idea had started to brew.

---

Panting, James threw the other boy to the ground and slammed the knothole that would close the way into the tunnel, cutting off the desperate, angry howls of the werewolf so close behind. "Christ," he whispered, shaking all over at how close that had been. "Merlin. Are you all right, Snape?"

No words, only a noise of purest shock from Severus. Black eyes were wide, and every inch of him was shaking, near to hyperventilating. He didn't seem to notice the ragged patch missing from his robes and the shirt beneath them, or the blood that dripped down his torso. Severus simply sat where he'd fallen when James had jerked him backwards.

"Did he bite you?" James asked frantically, turning him to look and see. Oh, if Remus had bitten him...

"Don't touch me!" Severus half-shrieked at him, shoving him back with trembling hands. He had just looked into the eyes of... a beast, a horrible creature that had tried to kill him. And it hadn't sunk in yet, any of it -- only that he was frightened, panicked, and in pain.

"Look, just tell me if you've been bitten!" Potter snarled, jerking him up to inspect him. It didn't look like a bite -- just like a nasty graze, probably earned when he'd tossed the much smaller boy up out of the tunnel. "Merlin, Snape! What did you think you were doing!?"

"B-black told me to..." Severus staggered backwards, away from the tree, and the snarling that he heard at the entrance that Potter had closed. "That thing clawed me!"

"But he didn't bite you?" James asked, shaken. Sirius had never done anything dangerous like that before, just threatening a little maybe, or... Well, it wasn't like Sirius at all.

Severus finally brought a hand up to his shoulder, clutching over the wound that streaked down his chest. He could still see jaws snapping near his face, could feel that beast's spit on him... but no bite. "No..." He kept backing up, away from James, until he finally broke into a stumbling run back to the school.

"Shit," James whispered, and watched him go. Best to go find Sirius and head up to Dumbledore's office. Perhaps they could even beat Snape there.

Severus was unaware of that idea, or any ideas at all -- only that fear drove his legs on, fear made him trip on a dip in the dirt, that fear sent him speeding up the moving stairs once he was in the building, and that fear sent him bursting into the infirmary in the middle of the night when by all right, he should've been tucked into bed.

He fell again, just inside the doors, chest aching as he sucked in breath after breath, still clutching over his wound. "Madam... Madam Pomfrey, there's a... a beast... a beast on the... the grounds..."

"My gracious!" the woman said, looking at him with her eyes wide for just a second before she moved into action. "Mr. Snape, it's far past curfew, and the only beasts would be in the Forbidden Forest!" she chided, quickly moving to see to the bloody injury. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Black told me to, to go down to the willow, to press the knot there and, and it CLAWED me!" He brought his hand away in tense demonstration, showing the blood that was smeared on his fingers. Black eyes lifted to look at her, and for the first time ever, she saw pure fear in the boy.

"Oh, dear heavens," she whispered, tugging him close for a moment, hugging him. It was probably the first time anyone had touched him that way aside from Lucius. "You poor child. It will be all right. Why on earth did you do something Sirius Black told you to do?"

He shuddered against her, still wide-eyed. "I, I was curious..." He'd wanted to get Black in trouble, too, but curiosity had been what had driven him to go there. "He tried to... to kill me!"

"I'm sure he didn't mean that, dear!" she said, startled. "I'm sure he simply didn't think!"

"That, that thing tried to eat me! I'm bleeding!" He was still shaking, but pulled back to look at her with disbelief mingling into the shock.

"Let's get that taken care of," Pomfrey insisted, allowing him to pull loose so that she could begin taking off his robes. "Oh, Professor Dumbledore is going to be so upset!

"Black tried to k-kill me..." His mind was fixating on it, so much that he didn't care much that he was still slumped on the floor as he pulled off his robes. Revealing, not just the distinct mark and blood from a swiping claw, but ridged marks on the flat of his belly when the shirt came off. And more of those marks on his torso. Magical scars. "T-that... that bastard."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it that way," the woman repeated, pulling him up slowly. "Severus, those marks...?"

"What marks?" he asked hazily, getting up to his knees, then his feet, with her help. "Stop this bleeding..." The claw swipes stung, a brilliantly fresh pain that he'd almost forgotten the feeling of. Oh. Those scars. "They... they aren't anything."

A smear of blue goo was carefully placed over each gash and then a wave of her wand sealed the wounds together until they were entirely gone, leaving not even a scar to mark their passing. "Severus, those look to be the result of some spell. If someone is hurting you, Malfoy or..."

He shook his head, sitting very still on the edge of the hospital bed. Still except for the shaking of his nerves and muscles as he tried to process through what had happened. His breathing was still up, and his heart was still racing, now with fear of being found out, himself. "Not Lucius. Lucius would never," he hissed. "It's not a concern. Black just tried to kill me -- that's a concern."

"Madam Pomfrey." That voice was Dumbledore's, and it echoed cleanly out of nowhere. "Please send Severus up when you are finished."

"Yes, Headmaster," she agreed, dithering slightly. "Here, Severus. I want you to take a calming potion before we go."

The shaking worsened after hearing the headmaster's voice. Severus had successfully avoided him since the end of third year -- the man had been so cold, so callous and unwilling to listen then. He swallowed, jaw tensing a little as he looked at Madam Pomfrey. "Can I take two?"

"I'll get you a stronger one," she agreed, and did just that before helping him into one of the hospital robes and walking him to the Headmaster's office.

He could still taste the potion on his lips when they passed the gargoyle that guarded the entrance. It left him calmer, soothed his heart, but did little for his mind, as he walked up those stairs. He could still remember the last time he'd done that...

"Come in," that voice said quiet seriously, and when they did, Severus knew that trouble was waiting to happen in that room. It was already filled with Sirius Black, James Potter, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Hecate. "Severus. Have a seat. Madame Pomfrey..."

"Yes, sir?"

"You may return to the Infirmary," Dumbledore sighed.

Severus's hands were knit in his lap the moment he sat down. Every motion was still filled with a slight tremble, and even a calming potion couldn't take the accusation from his eyes as he looked at Sirius. "Sir."

"Some very grave accusations have been made already in this room this evening. Would you like to make your own?" he was asked solemnly.

Accusations?! Against him? Oh, no... no, he was doomed from the start, he thought, as he looked to the headmaster with wide eyes. "Black tried to kill me with that stunt, Headmaster!"

"I cannot imagine that Sirius would attempt to kill anyone, Severus. However, the lot of you are out of bed after curfew, and you've all managed to embroil yourselves in something very, very dangerous," the older man chided.

Professor Hecate spoke up coolly. "Perhaps that is so, but Snape is quite right. Black seems to have purposely prodded him into this behavior, knowing precisely how curious Severus is. How could anyone not know?"

There was someone willing to defend him, thank Merlin. "He told me that if I... if I went to the willow, and opened that door, that I could see something surprising -- I didn't expect to have a beast try to eat me!"

"Sirius," Dumbledore began calmly, "why did you tell Severus such a thing?"

"I-I don't know," the black-haired boy stuttered, biting his lip. "He was being such a nasty git, saying such horrible things about Remus..." That was more than a lie, it was a damnable lie, but at that point, Sirius would say anything to get himself out of the hole he'd created. "I couldn't help it, I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind! And then, when I realized what I had done, I told James..."

"I didn't say a thing against Lupin!" Severus uttered, turning an angry, shocked look to Sirius.

And then it clicked. "Oh, Merlin... that... that thing was him, wasn't it?!"

"Severus, you will say nothing about this!" McGonagall said quickly.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "Quite so. You must say nothing."

"It nearly killed me! It took a swipe off my chest! What're you doing defending such a danger?!"

"You shouldn't have been out of bed, much less wandering around outside!" McGonagall told him.

"Yes, well, Black shouldn't have implied that Severus needed to go tearing off after a werewolf, either, should he have!?" Hecate snapped back. "These Marauders, this Potter and Black and Lupin and Pettigrew! You'd allow them to get away with murder such as this?"

"Now, Josephine..."

"Don't now Josephine me!" Severus's Head of House snapped. "You know it's true!"

"I'm not keeping this a secret," Severus shuddered, fingers knotting tightly in his lap as he glared at black and Potter. "You won't do anything to them for this, I know it -- but Uncle Arioch won't stand for it..."

"I would very much dislike having to expel you, Severus," the Headmaster said almost gently, rubbing his temples. "Very much. You must not tell anyone about Remus Lupin. Sirius will be punished..."

"You are very right that he will be punished!" Hecate said angrily.

"Expel ME?! For what? Almost getting killed?" His voice broke in his confusion. He'd been right at the end of his third year. Those Gryffindors would get away with murder, if they were allowed it... "You'd better punish Black, or else I will tell Uncle Arioch, or, or, T--" No. No, discretion. "I will."

"Or who?" Sirius burst out. "The Dark Lord, you freak?"

"Sirius!" McGonagall snapped. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, on top of the fifty you have already lost tonight! Detention for a week!"

Severus glared back down at his hands, still shaking. He knotted them together until they were white-knuckled, and the shaking seemed to still with that. "At least I haven't tried to kill someone, Black," he hissed. If he looked up, he'd lose his control. If he looked up, and saw Black's mouth forming those words, or Potter's angelic innocence once more...

"Well, this evening has certainly been a surprise all 'round," Dumbledore said tiredly. "There is simply no getting around it. However, in return for Severus not saying anything concerning Remus Lupin, no points will be taken from Slytherin this evening for being outside after curfew. As for Gryffindor..." He paused. "The points Sirius Black has lost will stand. Detention for a week with Professor McGonagall will also stand, as well as an additional week with Professor Hecate. And James Potter, for great bravery in the face of danger, is hereby granted fifty points for Gryffindor. That will be all."

Severus's head snapped up, eyes fixing acridly on Dumbledore's face. "That will be all? You take twenty points from Gryffindor for trying to kill me?! If they had've killed me, would you have even bothered to bury me, or would you have just let that beast eat me?" He bolted to his feet, hands balled into shaking fists. Words hissed at the back of his mind, a chant in his own mental voice, of 'crucio'. One extended hand, and it could be there, with the force of his anger. It could be there, and on Sirius Black...

"Severus..." Professor Hecate's hand was on his shoulder. "Let's go along, now. We'll talk about this matter a bit more downstairs, you and I."

"I used to think you were fair," Severus hissed, still staring at Dumbledore. For a moment, he could afford to ignore Professor Hecate. For a moment. "I trusted you, until you... you proved what you did again tonight. That my life isn't worth the shit of a Gryffindor." Then he pulled away, to go with Professor Hecate, back down those stairs. The calming potions seemed to barely have any affect any longer.

No one spoke to contradict the words that he left floating behind him.

Once they were out of the immediate vicinity of the Headmaster's office, the Professor's arm slipped about his still-thin shoulders. "I have some chocolate for you," she said simply as they headed deeper into the dungeons. "After such a horrific shock, I don't doubt that you need it, Mr. Snape."

The lack of rebuttal stung him worse than anything, to get that verification of his words. He hated them -- all of them, Remus among them now. The Headmaster had first broken his trust, then shattered any hope he'd had for even a peripheral protection that the school should offer. Not even that was extended to him -- in loco parentis. His parents wouldn't have let something like that rest, nor would Uncle Arioch, or his grandfather, for that matter.

He ducked his head down, letting Professor Hecate lead him towards her office. "I don't want any. I think I'm going to be sick."

"It will make you feel better," she promised him all the same, and pushed open the door. "I'm sure I have something for nausea, as well." Slytherins, after all, didn't actually like going to someone such as Poppy Pomfrey for help.

He kept going forwards when she let go of him, and slumped down into the chair across from her desk. "Thank you," he sighed quietly. For a moment, he let his eyes close, and his head loll back against the leather of the large chair. "I should've... just let him expel me."

"You are one of the best and brightest students I have, Mr. Snape, and while it is certainly disagreeable that Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore are so sadly prejudiced in favor of Gryffindor," and coming from Hecate, that was quite censorious, particularly considering her own prejudice against them in favor of Slytherin, "I must state quite clearly that no such forbearance will be granted any of them here." It only took a moment for her to find the anti-nausea potion and two boxed chocolate frogs.

He still hadn't opened his eyes when she came around the chair. "But it doesn't matter, does it? I'm worth nothing to any of them... And the Gryffindors know that. They know they can get away with anything they way, at least where I'm concerned, because I'm just a piece of... of evil, Slytherin, trash, that the Headmaster condones the hurting of..."

"Well, I do not condone it," she said, stopping his words with the tip of a vial, "and I will make very certain, Mr. Snape, that they all feel the bite of my wrath accompanied by the force of your own through me. I would also suggest that you speak to Mr. Malfoy. I will not punish either of you, so long as your revenge is subtle. Subtle, and yet very, very obvious. You understand?"

He opened his mouth, lifting one hand to tip the vial the rest of the way by himself. His fingers brushed her, and for a moment she could feel the power that had clotted there in his anger. Now it was leaking away at the tips. "I think I do, professor," he whispered, once he'd given her back the vial. "Am I allowed to tell Lucius...?"

"I would not except you to keep it from him," Hecate replied with what was, for her, a strange sort of gentleness. "You're a very good boy, Severus. Don't allow them to damage you. Understand?" She leaned down, looked into his eyes. "They are not worth that."

The edges of his lips shook a little, as he asked, "What do you mean 'damage', Professor?"

"There are many ways to harm someone, Severus. Tonight, you suffered a certain amount of physical and psychological harm. I wouldn't put it past Black or any of the others to dig in deeply to try and hurt your feelings or your mind even if they cannot actually hurt you. Be careful, Mr. Snape."

Severus looked up to her with a momentary candid glance. "I'm good at... trying not to let things hurt me too much, Professor. I won't let them win and do that to me."

"Very good," Hecate said promptly. "Now, eat a frog and go to bed. I will excuse both you and Mr. Malfoy from class tomorrow."

Time to recover, and time to rest, then. "Thank you, professor." He reached for the offered frog, and with a press of magic, killed the animation enchantment on it. He didn't have the stomach for playing with his food at that moment, a first in all the time that Professor Hecate had known him. He broke off a leg, and ate it thoughtfully before he asked, "Professor, do you know any spells for removing magical scars?"


"A few," she agreed, looking at him most thoughtfully, shifting to look through a stack on a nearby table. "There's a book. I'll lend it to you."

"Thank you, Professor," he sighed. "I don't want Madam Pomfrey asking me any more questions that I'm not in a shape to answer."

"Quite," the woman sighed, and handed him the book. "Good night, Mr. Snape. If you find that you cannot sleep, return and I will make sure that you receive something to help you."

He closed his fingers over the book, and picked up the chocolate frog from the box, taking a bite from it. "Thank you." For not asking those same questions -- he could appreciate that. Still a bit unsteady, he stood, and looked Hecate in the eye, unable to offer her anything more in thanks than a twitch of his mouth, a tired one.

"You're very welcome, Mr. Snape. Shall I walk you to your dormitory, then?"

"No... It's not so far from here." Thankfully. He turned to head to the door, grateful that he did have chocolate to eat as he went. A burst of energy to get him to bed, where he could safely collapse.

"Good night," she told him again, and walked out into the hall with him, watching until Severus had slipped down the way and into the Slytherins' common room. From there it was only a short, weary walk to the tapestry that tucked their room away. He barely murmured the password, but the tapestry lifted for him, and he stumbled into the room gratefully.

Lucius's voice blasted the very moment that the tapestry lifted aside. "I DON'T BLOODY WELL CARE WHAT FUCKING TIME IT IS, YOU GODDAMNED COWS, GO FIND SEVERUS!"

"Urm, Malfoy, he's..."

"WHAT!?"

"Behind you," Goyle pointed, and Lucius swung around, grey eyes gleaming silver and spitting with worry and anger.

"Where have you been??" the blond asked him, obviously relaxing at least some small part since Severus had now found his way home.

"To the Headmaster's, and to the infirmary, and..." He trailed off, getting to his feet again and moving towards Lucius's bed. It called to him, and he desperately needed to crawl under the sheets and hide.

"Sevvie?" That was almost a startled question, and it wasn't as if calling him that in front of Crabbe and Goyle couldn't be considered private, or so Lucius thought, and Lestrange was now in the prefects' dormitory. He waved a hand at the two of them, who promptly began turning out candles even as Lucius approached the bed and sat on the edge of it, close to Severus. "What's wrong?"

"Those fucking Gryffindors.. tried to kill me..." He got close enough to Lucius to touch, and collapsed against him.

"Tried to KILL you!?" There was that yell again. Lucius never yelled unless he was absolutely furious.

Severus was regressing the same way he had when he'd first come back from his two weeks with Tom before Lucius's very eyes. A shift, and he was entirely on the bed, pushing Lucius onto the bed with him. It didn't take him any effort at all to curl against Lucius, arms wrapping around him. The younger boy clung close, savoring the feeling of being safe again. Wanted. Better than shit, to someone. "Black did... and I can't... tell you right now. Tomorrow? Hecate says you and I don't have to go to class tomorrow."

"Shhh," Lucius soothed, wrapping his arms around him. He nodded to Crabbe as the other boy reached to blow out the last candle. "Shhh. All right. We can talk about it tomorrow," he promised on a whisper, rocking him tenderly in his arms. "We'll talk about it in the morning. I'll take care of everything, Sevvie..."

The hospital robe was of poor quality compared to what he usually wore so it took Severus no time to squirm free of it, pressing Lucius back further. "I hate them all..." And he could hate them safely from the confines of Lucius's arms. It was all right there, and no one would expel him for it.

"I hate them, too," Lucius agreed quietly, holding him close, the slow rocking not stopping even as they slid closer to the middle of the bed. "I'll take care of them, Sevvie. I'll take care of everything once you tell me tomorrow..."

"I knew you would..." So tired, and so trusting of Lucius, as they finally laid down together. They only half-bothered with sheets, since Severus was so intent on staying pressed close to him. "I knew... I can rely on you for everything... My Lucius."

"Yours," Lucius agreed on a whisper, kissing his ear, the slightly oily strands of hair. "Only yours, Sevvie. Always yours."

Always...

---

"Why would I risk my education over you?" Severus drawled, crossing his arms as he glared at Black. "You're not worth that effort to me -- as amusing as it is to see you diapered."

"It's not funny!" Sirius hissed, face burning with mortification. He had wet himself in the Great Hall, piddling on the floor like a puppy with no control. "Who else would do it if not you, you miserable greasy ass!?"

"I don't know," Severus shrugged, but was quick to add, "though if I knew their name, I'd be quick to congratulate them on a brilliant spell. How long are you going to be pissing at random, baby boy?"

The growl that escaped Sirius's throat was accompanied by a bunching of muscles as if he was going to pounce upon the smaller Slytherin.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Black. After all, whoever did that to you might very well decide that watching you shit yourself would be equally as amusing as that little scene in the Great Hall this morning." Pyrrhus snickered from where he stood behind Lucius -- a Lucius who was obviously considering doing something very nasty to one Sirius Black. "Severus, is this childish trouser-wetter bothering you?" Malfoy continued, one white-blond brow raising with a depth of scorn.

"No, Lucius," Severus drawled as he looked back to his lover with a sharply tossed smile. This was good... this, this, standing there and watching Black suffer humiliation in something beyond his control. "He's only trying to suggest that his leaking bladder is my fault. What nerve."

"My. How droll. Perhaps you should look closer to home, Black. Little loopy Lupin seems to be rather peeved with you, hm?" That was not quite true. Lupin looked, for lack of a better word, utterly devastated, but it certainly wasn't beneath Lucius to suggest otherwise considering the circumstances.

"That strikes me as a very Gryffindor-ish trick," Severus agreed, turning smoothly away from Black. "Well, have a wet day, Sirius Black."

"I hate you, Severus Snape," Black hissed. "I hate you and I'll get you if it's the last thing I do!"

"Try anything like two nights ago, Black, and it will be," Lucius assured him, a silky threat that was without doubt completely meant.

"Don't be any more childish, Black, than you already are," Severus snapped. It was unexpected for him, to half turn back and growl that over his shoulder. "Let's go, Lucius, before the Gryffindors... leak on us."

"See you around, Gryffinbaby," Goyle snickered as the four of them headed towards the dungeons.

"Well," Lucius said once they were away from everyone else, "that was a bright spot in my day."

"Don't you mean a damp spot?" Severus slowed enough for his companions to catch up with him. It was hard, suddenly, not to smile sneeringly about it. "That was a wonderful thing to see. Horrifying, but still satisfying."

"And that's not even all of it," Lucius told him, waving Crabbe and Goyle away and tugging Severus downward, heading towards his niche. "There's more."

"There is?" Severus's tone was a hopeful one, as they started down a set of winding stone stairs. "It still won't be enough, but... what is it?"

"You won't ever have to go again during the summer," Lucius promised him vaguely. "Someone else will be taking your place in that manner. I've set the proper events in motion for it."

Severus halted on the stairs, fingers grasping at Lucius's sleeve. "You're not going in my place -- I won't let you, Lucius, you fool!"

"I'm not even remotely masochistic enough to do something so foolish!" Lucius told him, a hand moving to cover the one clenched so tightly in his robes. "No, no. Black, Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew. They're responsible for hurting you...." He trailed off, grey eyes gleaming with a sudden pure vindictiveness.

"He wouldn't..." Severus swallowed, looking Lucius straight in the eye in his desperation. Oh, not to have to go again, not to be hurt like that, not to be left feeling so ruined... "Have you... asked?"

"I've planted the seeds," Lucius said simply. "I won't allow you to go again, Sevvie. We're going to France this summer. You're to come, even though we have to see Narcissa. Don't worry. One will be taking your place. I won't tell you which one. I don't ever want you to know, because I know you. You'll feel guilty. Don't. It's more than deserved, and the one..." He shook his head. "He as good as asked for it, once I... persuaded him."

That made the fifth year shiver, as he slipped closer to Lucius. It took a force of thought to get walking again, but he did, dragging Lucius with him. "Don't tell me. I don't want to know... as long as I don't ever have to go back in the summer." It didn't exclude after he left school, Severus guessed, but respite was respite.

"Come on," Lucius told him, tugging him to move again. "Let's go and get ready for class."

Ready for class. Yes, Severus could do that again, calmly, with the weight of dread lifted from his lean shoulders.

"And it's potions. This just makes my day perfect, you know..."

---

"You like him very much, I think. Not the way boys like boys," the blond girl observed casually, tilting her head to the side and smiling at Severus. "It is odd, perhaps. Perhaps. Those other boys, they think nothing of it. Why is that do you suppose?"

Narcissa's English was just as beautifully clear as it had been the summer before, but this summer, Severus was suffering through two weeks of her as Lucius must. Besides that, they were going to a lot of pureblood parties and meeting... people. People of whom Severus partly wasn't sure of, and partly was. It was really a matter of him not wanting to have to socialize, and not wanting Lucius to wander off at his father's behest.

"Think nothing of what?" Severus evaded, crossing his legs smoothly at the knee. That way he had a place to balance his saucer, as he and Narcissa were seated at the outskirts of the soiree. "I don't think I'm following you at all."

"You like one another not in the way boys like boys but as boys like girls," she answered primly, granting him a mysterious smile. "This I do not mind, for now. Perhaps I will not mind it ever. We shall see."

The prissy little bitch. Severus's jaw came forwards a little, firming with mild unhappiness before he took a neat sip from his tea-cup. "Whatever makes you say something like that?"

Delicate shoulders shrugged. "I am not stupid, despite the fact that most of these people seem to think so. Also, I am Veela, like him. I can smell the sex on you," Narcissa murmured most politely.

Sex that they'd had that morning, in the shower. Hurried, heated, passionate pleasure that Severus had enjoyed too much to feel guilty over. After all, if he was going to sit, and smile, and meet and greet, he expected to go in at least a placid mood. One smooth black brow arched, as he turned his head a little more to look at her. There had to be something smart, and quick to say in return to her nauseatingly polite tones. "Being able to do that must make day to day living interesting for you."

"Very much so," she agreed, placing her own cup and saucer most politely upon her thigh. "You were not present last summer. I am sorry that I missed you. I would have been most interested in knowing this beforehand, not," Narcissa admitted, "that it changes anything at all."

"Our Lord was giving me tutelage," Severus told her in a bland tone. Tutelage that he blessedly hadn't had since, though there had been a few meetings he and Lucius had sat in on that had left him with that same shivery feeling. "And, you didn't guess it from him...?"

"Non," she said with a smile that seemed terribly sweet and just a bit vicious somehow. "He was, hm, very attentive but also very... distracted," she decided. "Men are only rarely distracted from me."

Attentive? Severus drained his cup smoothly, set it back down in the saucer that was balanced on his knee. He wasn't going to press that particular question, or ever think of Lucius being 'attentive' again. It made him wish for Uncle Arioch's liqour cabinent, in the study of Malfoy Manor. "Then I'm glad to know that he was distracted."

"Yes. You are distracted, also. Not in the way these others are." A wave of fingers indicated the other men in the room, many of whom had at least one eye upon her. "It is interesting," she decided.

"I don't like women," he filled in for her, still looking at her with a bland gaze. "It doesn't interest me in the least."

"This is what I find so interesting," she agreed, sipping delicately from her cup.

"Are you so very used to having men fawn on you?" What an uppity creature she was. It wasn't even the cool, crisp and fully sensible haughtiness that Lucius dripped. At least Lucius's pride was useful, and actually had a great deal of skill to back it up.

"Yes," she said with a smile. "I like you. You are very amusing."

What he'd do for a wand. Or a handful of soot to just dab on her pretty, pert nose. "I'm glad that I amuse you, Narcissa," he couldn't help but sneer. Then he looked up, scanning the ballroom for Lucius. No sign of him, which didn't mean anything. "Why do I amuse you, again?"

"You pretend to be sweet, and yet you are vinegar, yes? Yes. Quite sour in your dislike. I am not taking him from you, you understand," Narcissa said firmly. "It is an arrangement. It is for a child. A child is a necessary thing, yes? This, you cannot do."

"Thank Merlin," he agreed, in a blatantly sour tone. "But an arrangement means it's a change from how things have been, of which I'm very fond."

"This, I cannot help you with in the least," she responded, shrugging those thin, pale shoulders, the straps of her dress sliding a bit in response to the motion. "I am not sorry for it, precisely. I should not have to be, yes? It is not my fault. It is simply the way that things must be."

"That's right. But that doesn't mean that I'm expected to just be merry about it and end up bulldozed over once... you and him fall into domestic life." Or, worse -- to actually fall into the reality of the charade they were supposed to put on. Surely, days together could breed, between Lucius and her...

"You are not the only one with a life which will be interrupted," Narcissa said easily, shrugging once more. "You should grow up a bit, I think."

"I've not quite turned sixteen yet," he pointed out to her. "And I can act very 'grown up' as you call it, when I wish to. But considering I've seen very few adults with the sort of 'suck it up and be quiet' attitude that you expect from me, I have to point out that your expectations are a bit too high."

"It is the way of the world... of the Lord," she said very quietly. "Is it not?"

Severus had no reaction at that, other than to break a piece off of a chocolate biscuit, and bring it to his lips. "No, it isn't."

"You may not wish to say that very loudly," Narcissa told him, blue eyes widening. "If He heard you... if someone else heard you..."

"His way is whatever pleases Him -- and I wouldn't not go along with that," Severus said succinctly, and only when he was done chewing.

"Then do not say such things," the girl replied, shivering. "It is not well."

"Why not?"

She shook her head and shivered. "You are not..."

"Not wise," a voice broke in smoothly, "to be so disobedient, Severus."

A chill clutched at his spine, and he turned just slightly to look back at Tom. "It isn't disobedience, sir, until words... become action. And they won't."

"Learn to be more careful of your tongue, young Severus. You never can tell quite who may be listening," the man nearly purred.

"Yes, sir." Severus's head ducked down just slightly, so he wouldn't have to look up into those brilliant green eyes. "How... has your summer been, sir?"

"Most pleasant, Severus. And your own? And yours, Narcissa?" he asked, nodding to the girl.

"Lovely, my Lord," she whispered timidly, eyes sweeping down to peer at her trembling fingers.

"Better and worse than last summer," Severus answered vaguely. "I've had a very good year in school. My O.W.L. scores were top for the year."

"Very good, Severus. Narcissa. Ahh, I see Arioch and Lucius. Excuse me," the man said politely.

It was only once He left that Narcissa seemed able to breathe again.

Severus looked down into his teacup for a moment, drawing one smooth breath to calm himself with. "You're scared of Him, too -- why?"

"Anyone with sense would be!" she hissed at him, shaking her head. "He.. I have a sister, you see, and..." That was all she would say.

Severus winced faintly. She had a sister, and...? Was the girl dead? Older or younger than Narcissa, who was at least as old as Lucius? Was she being 'taught'? "He teaches her...?"

"Yes," was all that she said, her skin even more pale than before. "She is twelve."

Severus hesitated for a moment, before moving one slim hand to rest atop Narcissa's neatly folded hands. "She'll... survive."

She looked at him, blue eyes glistening. "Will she? She is very fragile. Very young. You stayed with Him last summer, did you not?"

The twitch at the edge of his mouth seemed to scream that he had, the way that his eyes fell for a moment when he pulled his hand back. "While you were visiting the Manor, yes."

Her own fingers turned, grasped his carefully. "I would not wish that on anyone," she whispered, shaking her head even as her eyes darted about carefully. "Does he know?" He meaning Lucius.

"Enough." Never, never the specifics. Lucius had guessed some of them, but past that argument they had in the tub when he came back, there had been no further discussion. There had only been assurances that it would never happen again, and the comfort that the trunk he'd brought with him to France was a completely different one from that one. "Tell me, what does your sister do magically...?"

The expression on that pale, pointed face as good as said that she didn't want to tell him. "She is... not very accomplished, magically," Narcissa replied, hands folding neatly in her lap once again. "She has never been very good at it."

At least he had that to fall back on for himself. At worst Tom knew that he'd be hard to kill, that his body wanted to live, to escape no matter the effort. "I'm sorry to hear that." Severus had to glance away again, and his eyes fixed on Lucius, heading towards them, when he did so.

"Yes. You and I both," she said simply as the younger Malfoy moved to a stop before them.

"You two seem to have been having quite the nice, private conversation," Lucius declared with a smile, but it was a smile edged with jealousy, Severus could tell.

Severus patted Narcissa's fingers one last time, before he withdrew his hand entirely. "Our Lord graced us momentarily with His presence. Have you been enjoying yourself?"

"As much as possible," Lucius drawled, and promptly shifted to sit close to Severus, shaking his head slightly. "Father's conversation has become rather boring, and this little soiree should end shortly. Perhaps we could go for a walk in the gardens..." That 'we' seemed to encompass both of them.

"Mais oui," Narcissa replied, and it sounded sweet and lyrical and set Severus's teeth on edge despite their momentary connection. "I would like that very much."

"It sounds a pleasant enough idea." Severus stood a bit abruptly, looking for a ledge to set his cup and saucer aside on. It was hard not to entertain ideas of pushing Narcissa into some of the estate's lovely bushes.

"No need to be jealous," Lucius whispered into his ear as severus, too, rose, and Narcissa laughed, a soft sound full of amusement unlike her previous nervousness.

"No," she agreed. "No need."

Her laughter made Severus's cheeks burn, as he halfway discarded his cup on a window ledge. When he turned back Lucius was still too temptingly close to him. "Well. If you both keep telling me that, then you must be right."

"Then let us walk," Narcissa said, shaking her head so that fine, silken locks of blond hair tumbled about her shoulders in a lovely way that Severus's own black hair did not. "It is a lovely evening, no?"

"Agreed," Lucius murmured smoothly, and took her hand to place it in the crook of his arm, smiling with what seemed to be vague apology at Severus.

Severus simply fell into step beside him, a bit coldly. It was the cold detachment people were used to seeing in him, a sort of studious disdain for others. If Lucius was going to keep up appearances, then he would, too.

The garden's entrance was only a short walk across the ballroom floor, through latticed doors that swept open onto a patio. Lights hung in the darkness, spreading a gentle, half-illuminating glow.

"See?" Narcissa murmured with a wave of her wand that dimmed those lights just so before they moved down the steps that led into the garden. "It is lovely, not quite dark..." An invitation to walk, and to perhaps do more.

With Lucius on her arm, Severus had little choice but to follow them both, to stay in step. "A pity that more of these plants aren't useful," he sighed, sounding a bit distracted as he let his fingers idle over one half-closed bloom that they passed.

Narcissa paused, tilting her head to the side. "How do you mean, more of them useful? They are beautiful, yes. Many flowers have grand purposes, it is true, but sometimes it is nice to have beauty be the only purpose, yes?"

"Beauty is... an additive," he decided, peering at Lucius rather than Narcissa as all three of them stood there. "If something is useful, and right, it could be disfigured in some way, or unappealing to the eyes, and I'd still view it the same way I would if it were particularly stunning to look at. Beauty can mask your eyes, if you look only at that." Tom. Hiding in plain sight, in plain, appealing, eye catching beauty.

"An excellent point," Lucius agreed quietly, expression turning to him most seriously. "I think perhaps that beauty is more a necessary evil, however. The beautiful often get away with certain behaviors, certain threats, that the plain or unfortunately ugly cannot."

"If worked correctly, a beautiful person may likely find an ugly one to take blame for him or her," Narcissa concurred.

"Ugly inside, or ugly out?" Now Severus glanced to Narcissa, just for a moment. His hand pulled at the flower, then long fingers fisted around it. "Beautiful... but no substance. Most fragile. A few sad thorns prove weak protection."

The girl shivered and stepped closer to Lucius, though the blond boy was smiling very proudly at Severus. "Precisely, Sev. Precisely."

"Now, there are beautiful things that can protect themselves... but they don't rely on that beauty to do it all for them. In fact, it's often a lure..." His hand covered another rose, and in the garden's twilight darkness, a faint shimmer formed around it for a fraction of a moment. Subtle magic that the ministry couldn't sense, particularly with him out of the country. The flower was plucked, cradled in his hand and offered towards Narcissa. "Try to crush it," he offered with a wicked smile curling the edges of his mouth.

Narcissa's eyes narrowed slowly. "I am not that stupid, Severus Snape. Do not mistake that I am," she said in a low, vaguely sinister voice.

"And don't threaten Severus," Lucius replied with a chill that likely seeped into her bones.

"Just because you're gorgeous, Narcissa, doesn't mean that I'm not brilliant and powerful," he murmured, dropping the blossom to the ground idly. One petal planted itself in the ground with a distinctly knife-like noise that only strengthened Severus's smile. "Just because your sister is almost a squib, doesn't mean that I am, too."

"Your sister's almost a squib?" Lucius asked, his nose wrinkling.

"Do not look like that!" the girl hissed, nearly in tears. "She is brilliant and beautiful and she will do superbly! I will make sure of it!"

"Defensive of your loved ones?" Severus probed lightly. How dare Narcissa cry like that, when she'd started it. It cemented firmer in his mind his dislike of women in general.

"Yes!" she cried, mouth trembling. "Yes! Oh, you would not understand, you and he, so close to Him! I should have known! I should not have spoken!"

"Spoken about what?" Lucius asked, and his cool demeanor thawed the smallest bit.

"I think... if you calmed yourself, and repeated things a bit more rationally, that we could understand a great deal."

"What is there to misunderstand?" Narcissa whispered. "That He is not the nice man you think He is? That this is not a game? That we are all caught up in something awful? I thought perhaps I could trust you," she said, casting Severus a glance. "You said you had stayed with Him. You did not seem to have found pleasure in it... I thought..."

"I learned a lot about how deceptive beauty can be when I stayed there," Severus muttered. It was hard to keep his expressions from seizing up, or going colder, at the mention of Tom. So, Narcissa's sister was almost a squib. Being almost one, and being one were two entirely different things.

"It makes what I say no less true," she defended herself as Lucius frowned. "Beauty might be misleading, but many people are too stupid to realize. If used properly..." Her fingers indicated the flower embedded in the ground below. "...even beauty may be deadly. This is all I meant!"

She meant it now, but not before, Severus knew. No, she'd worked vague threats at him into it, and now she knew and had seen, at least subtly, where Lucius stood in the matter. "Of course." Bland words, as he raised one eyebrow at her slightly. "Shall we continue walking?"

"I believe so," Lucius said, and took her arm again before she wrenched it from him, obviously hurt by that choice of sides.

"I am going to be your wife," she stressed, looking at Lucius as they moved deeper into the garden. "None of us have to like this fact, but there are ways for us to get along."

"I'm making my poor attempts at it," Severus replied. "But it's hard for me to swallow when you get so bloody smug over things. I could at least commiserate with your sister, if she were here." But Narcissa was nothing like him, an arrogant thing who weighed people solely on looks. Lucius at least had the sense to weigh power and brilliance into the mix.

She hissed slightly, and the fury on her face seemed to have made it more pointed, the very bones of her changing just slightly. It was obvious that she was even more Veela than Lucius's mother, and Lucius was no fool. "Calm down," he soothed gently. "Calm down. Severus is often sharp this way. It will be all right."

"It isn't as if we have choices. He has a plan for each of us, doesn't He?" Severus reminded Narcissa in a slightly softer voice. "It could be worse for you."

"Worse? Perhaps. Consider who Arioch Malfoy is. Consider who will replace him should he die. Consider that I am only for breeding while you, you are for magic...." Narcissa shrugged. "Worse, perhaps. But not by much."

"You're both altogether too melodramatic," Lucius said firmly.

"You threw a two day long fit over having to leave Malfoy Manor." Severus poked a finger into Lucius's ribs without warning, chuckling very softly. "You can't exclude yourself from that."

"I'm allowed to be melodramatic," Lucius answered him complacently, squirming away from the tickle that produced. "I'm a Malfoy. It's my nature."

"It must be Malfoy nature. Aunt Porrima isn't..." She was surprisingly down to earth when compared against Arioch. Arioch, who was no longer 'Uncle Arioch' very often in Severus's mind. The man had lost that measure of Severus's trust. His trailing words ended in a sigh. "You'll probably pass that on to your children, Lucius."

A little sideways glance came from Narcissa, along with a snide statement. "I find it difficult to believe that we will have children," she said simply.

"Why's that?" She was baiting again. Baiting probably with the sole intent of turning it around at them both for a reason to cry. Severus shifted ever so slightly closer to Lucius, dark eyes gleaming with possession. Lucius was his, even if Narcissa did marry him.

Blue eyes shifted in their direction. "I am not stupid," she declared shortly, shrugging her shoulders. "You are not just friends who are boys. You are, hm, what is the proper word for it? Ah. Well. Perhaps I cannot think of it in English. Lovers will do for the moment."

That didn't seem to bother Lucius. Why should it? "And?"

"And, a boy such as you would not be truly interested in a girl such as me, non?" A hip canted lightly to the side as she smiled at both of them. "It will be difficult to conceive a child if you cannot function properly."

That was hard for Severus's mind to conceive. He'd seen Lucius walk past a chair and end up hard, on the worst days of hormones. "That will have to be dealt with when it comes the time, won't it?" Severus asked blandly. One more year, just one more year -- surely she could wait that long.

"Yes..." she agreed, looking at them through her lashes, "but for now..." A wicked little smile curved her lips. "For now, I would like to see it?"

"See what?" Lucius asked her with chill inflection, as if to put her off of the request with the force of his personality.

Was she asking Lucius to just... drop his trousers? "That's more than a bit rude, you know. Though it sounds very French to ask that."

Her laugh was husky, pleasant, lovely just as she was. "No, no. That is not what I mean. I mean... Kiss him. I would like to see."

Severus hadn't even a chance to protest her suggestion because Lucius was on him, Narcissa's arm forgotten and propriety completely cast to the wind. When lips pressed to his mouth, Severus gave way as he always did, submitting for a moment before he caught Lucius's bottom lip in his teeth, tussling for control of at least the kiss, if not the press and roll of muscles.

He lost. It had been too long, perhaps, despite their lovemaking in the shower that morning. Nearly two weeks of separate bedrooms and only a handful of kisses in the dark, quick gropes, were unsatisfying at best and utterly fruitless at worst. Lucius was altogether too ready to strip him there in front of her and take him and make him scream. It was obviously all the blond boy could do to pull away when he finally did, and his voice was shaky and hoarse. "Never ask that of me again," he told her. "Not after two weeks like these."

It was a true pity that Lucius hadn't done it. Severus had to snap at himself to let go of Lucius, to slide his hands off of the other boy's shoulder and his side, to step back from the warmth and vague musk scent that he'd missed in those two weeks. "It's rude of you," Severus agreed raggedly.

"You will have to become accustomed, I suppose," Narcissa laughed softly. "That was most lovely. Perhaps you will be a vigorous lover after all, Lucius Malfoy."

"Not to you." The words were out before Lucius could stop them, but they didn't wipe away her smile.

"Perhaps not. But we shall see."

Or not see. Severus wanted to wipe off her smile -- with a spell, at least for a short while. To turn those pretty lips into a dog's muzzle was such a pleasing thought. "Perhaps. We should go back, Lucius, before your mother suspects we've crawled off under the bushes."

"Ah, yes, Mother," Lucius agreed. "She'll likely think we've abandoned poor Narcissa here to the maze and wandered off to copulate beneath the moon. It is a lovely moon," he decided, glancing up at the sky, "but I'd rather not get bug bites."

Severus looked over to Narcissa, and jerked his chin back towards the building when he tugged at lucius. "Coming?"

"Not yet," she laughed, shaking her head again. "But we shall see."


"Suit yourself." Severus gave Lucius's forearm another tug, then led him back towards the patio. At least he had another year before that girl was an irrevocable part of their lives.

---

"Come on," Lucius told him, tossing his head. "You'll want to hurry or we'll miss all of the chocolate in Honeydukes. Crabbe and Goyle are ahead of us, and you know they could eat out the store themselves." It didn't matter that Lucius was now seventeen; he was still quite fond of chocolate. "Then we can go back to school, because I still have a vast amount of work to do for potions, and I should like your assistance..."

"It's such a nice day out, though," Severus complained vaguely. "And we should probably stop by Dervish and Banges for flasks. I did tell you that Goyle stepped on mine, didn't I? Lout. I tried a repario, but their make-up is so delicate that the spell could taint potions."

"I'll send for a set via owl from Knockturn, Sev. It's really better if we just get back, I think," the blond said sternly before softening slightly. "Besides. It gives me time to be alone with you."

They were walking close enough to each other to brush hands occasionally, without garnering much in the way of looks; so Severus caught Lucius's fingers for a moment, and squeezed a bit idly. "I'll forget the flasks, then, for a much better offer."

"Good," Lucius agreed, and opened up his mouth to speak at the precise moment that Honeydukes exploded in a shattering rain of wood, glass and spell remnants. "Fuck!" Lucius's first instinct was to grab Severus's arm; Severus's was to stand there, dumbfounded for a moment before he pulled a shield up in front of them, umbrella-like from his wand. The candy shop had just blown up -- why would a candy shop blow up?

"Come on!" Lucius urged him, tugging sharply. "We should get back to Hogwarts, now, Sev!"

"No -- what about Goyle and Crabbe?" Severus jerked himself free, and started down the road -- which was partway being overwhelmed by people fleeing back the way he and Lucius were coming. He could see black robes ahead of him...

"Don't worry about them!" the blond snapped shortly, reaching for him again. Severus had hit another growth spurt over the summer and finally caught up to him in height, but the dark-haired boy's legs were still longer, making him faster than Lucius. "They can take care of themselves, come on!"

Fast enough to slip free of Lucius with ease, he barely heard those words over the thrum of blood in his temples. Soon, Severus was too far away for Lucius to reach, moving towards the still collapsing building. In such a riot, it was almost impossible for the out-most of those in the black robes not to be swept up in the panicked crowd.

But there was one who stood his ground effortlessly, and it was that one whom Severus ran into. His eyes were so fixed on what he was seeing that the immediate world was lost on him until body pressed to body.

Fingers latched onto his shoulders, drew him close to the body he'd run into. "Hello, Severus," Tom murmured in his ear. "I'm quite pleased to see you here. What a... pleasant surprise," he said, and began moving him away from the burning candy store as other stores around them began to explode, one by one.

"Oh, Merlin," Severus whispered, eyes gone wide as he was tugged aside, up onto the grass and further and further away from the main stretch. There were still people in there, Wizards and students...

"I've missed you," Tom told him with a smirk that absolutely made the boy's body ache and shiver. "Do you like your little present, Severus?"

"My present, sir...?" Had it been something? Had it been the lack of a summer visit with Him? Or was it... what he saw before him? No, it couldn't be. Black eyes looked up to Tom's brilliantly sparking green orbs, looking lost and waiting to be told.

"Aren't flames exciting?" the man purred, leaning down to hiss softly into his ear. "Don't you like the sound of them? Didn't you miss me this summer when Malfoy disobeyed me and took you to France?"

"I'd thought, sir, that it was all right to go to France..." If Lucius had gotten himself in trouble for Severus's sake, he was going to throttle him. When he got back to the school. If he could get back there -- the street before them seemed shifting, as if he and the Lord were somewhere else because the pinpricks of light that became Aurors didn't notice them.

"Yes, I'm sure you did," Tom answered him coolly, hands clenching on Severus's upper arms. "No worry. Malfoy has been punished for it, and he'll be replaced shortly but you...." The man's smile was eerie, vicious, hurtful. "You, Severus, are going to be punished for it as well."

"I am, sir...? Why?" Severus didn't dare say that he shouldn't be -- though the why was probably more of a challenge than he should have dared to make.

The fist that wrenched into his long black locks said as much. "Because you knew better, didn't you, Severus? In your heart of hearts. You knew better. Why else would I have been in France last summer?"

The tearing feeling of hair being wrenched made him wince, rise up on his feet a little to alleviate the pain. "I don't know... I don't know. Please let me go, Tom, My Lord, let me go back to school..."

"Oh, no, no, my sweet," Tom said softly in his hear. "That would be too easy. I'm afraid I must punish you most severely. I will, of course, regret that it is necessary..."

He knew the word that would come, even as he watched his Lord pull free His wand. Tom's lips formed dreaded words, Tom's fingers went rigid on the wand, before Severus felt the world pulled out from under him. A whisper of words, pointed and intense, that seared through his brain and deeper. Crucio, over and over, but it had only been said once. Pain, a new pain, that spliced through his limbs, shredded him inside, and left him screaming and shaking without, scrabbling with his fingers at the dirt in a sad attempt to do anything against it.

When it became too much, he finally gave in and collapsed, blessed blackness washing over him in a flood. Was it over? He couldn't say, couldn't be certain. His mind seemed to have shut itself away from his body for the time being, and so he couldn't quite grasp if the change was real or imagined. Perhaps it was still going on, perhaps it would always go on, and he just wouldn't know it and he'd die. They said that people went crazy under Cruciatus. They said it didn't take long. They said...

"Sevvie?"

Gibberish left his lips, and his body gave a jerk. Reality, even if his mind was drifting elsewhere in the confusion of it. Was that what Cruciatus was? A separation of the two parts, his sense, and his fears. Because his body curled up tighter on itself, and he had no control over it.

"Sevvie..." Yes, that was reality, and Lucius sounded miserable, sounded as if he'd been crying or something. To hear that voice gone hoarse was just awful.

The convulsive shudders were impossible to still, though he tried to crawl weakly closer to the sound of Lucius's shaken voice. Reality hurt in ways the detachment didn't; every motion was an echo of that searing pain, an echo that didn't fade -- it multiplied upon itself, until the pain grew to a throbbing buzz in his system again.

"Sevvie, the Aurors are coming. Sevvie.." He could feel his body shifted beneath him, and the agony of it was mind-numbing. Someone was screaming, he was sure. Was it him?

"Where're you going -- what's going on?" There was a hand on him, that made him wince and curl inwards to Lucius even as choked pain poured from his throat.

"He's hurt," Severus heard Lucius answer, and he felt himself pulled away from the hurtful touch. "I need to take him back to school..."

"Hurry, then -- and stop his screaming." Tension seemed thick enough in the air that Severus's agony wasn't needed to be thrust atop the tremulous pile. In his mind, he knew that. Physically, it hurt hurt hurt hurt.

"Shhh. Shhh, Sevvie. I know it hurts. I know. Just..." It seemed as if Lucius was reluctant. Severus couldn't tell, not until the silencing spell fell over him. "I'll take you to the infirmary, Sevvie. It will be all right. I promise. I told you not to go..."

Noises left him, but failed to permeate the air -- agreement, pain, it flooded together in his mind, worsened by the jostle of movement. Lucius was running? Or in a carriage. His eyes refused to open yet, clenched tight in agony that swept him up again until the motions stopped entirely. He was... somewhere, and the silencing spell was gone again. Perhaps because screaming had died to whimpers.

"There, there. It will be all right, Severus. It will be all right..."

That was Pomfrey, wasn't it? Or someone like her, maybe. He hurt. Oh, he hurt...

"How long was he under?"

"I don't know. He was missing for almost forty-five minutes, maybe. He ran when Honeydukes exploded, we had friends there..."

"Have they reported back to the dorms yet, or been found?" The room was abustle, and there was a steady stream of minor injuries going on beyond the curtained area he was within. Severus was only vaguely aware of it, as he twitched back from a hand touching his forehead.

"I don't know. I only just found Severus, fifteen minutes ago, perhaps. There have been all kinds of rumors. I don't know."

"The headmaster's orders are to send all students to their common rooms for safety's sake. You should go along, Mr. Malfoy...."

"No. Not without Severus. He needs me." Lucius's voice was tired, but so very certain, and when his fingers touched Severus's wrist, they were cool, calming. "I won't go."

"Mr. Malfoy, don't make me toss you out."

Severus whimpered again, pleadingly. Lips worked, but failed to form coherence again. One fisted hand spasmed open, inviting Lucius's fingers as best he could. There had to be something for the pain, a potion... but even when his mind seized on one, there was no way to tell Madam Pomfrey. He could only ride out the torment as the echoing effect began to fade.

"It's all right, Sevvie. It's all right. I won't leave you. I promise, I won't leave." He felt Lucius slide his hand into his own shaking fingers, clasping him gently. "I'm not leaving."

"Then you're going to hold him still while I give him a sleeping potion."

Yes. Just what he wanted to suggest to her, to plead to be put into unconsciousness until the pain was gone.

"All right."

The taste of it, when it came, was sickly sweet and reminiscent vaguely of limes, but it brought with it a blessed cool quiet, and then he knew nothing at all, for a time.

For a time...

The drifting agony was almost better than what he faced when he woke up. He felt feverish, but cold, and the lingering tiredness that clung to his insides was worse than it had been after those two weeks. Severus was grateful that the new tiredness lacked the direction of the old; no anger attached to it, nothing to be embittered about. Only... tiredness, and a new memory that told him what suffering could be.

It was funny how it almost seemed as if it had happened to someone else and not him at all; but he was laying there in the infirmary bed, and it had been an hour since Madam Pomfrey had last run off Lucius. That meant it would be at least another hour before Lucius came back.

"Hello, Severus. How are you feeling?" It was most solicitously asked, the voice of Dumbledore warm and quiet as it rumbled nearby.

"Leave me alone." His voice rose into a soft, strained hiss. The screaming, for an amount of time that was still unknown, had worn his throat raw; Madam Pomfrey had a potion for it, but the quality had been less than perfect, and thus potion less than effective.

"I wanted to talk to you," the old man said calmly, seating himself beside Severus's chair. "We were quite worried about you, you know. You have been one of those students most gravely ill."

"I was unaware," he drawled acridly. It was impossible not to do that, as he cracked open his eyes to glance at the man for a moment. Once, five years before, he'd sat on an infirmary bed and looked at Dumbledore with instant trust and regard for him. An expression long dead. "Sir."

There was a heavy weight bearing down on the man's shoulders as he leaned forward. "Most unfortunate. All of this. Severus, I fear that I owe you an apology."

"For what?" It would be insincere if the man gave it at all -- Dumbledore was, by his nature, insincere about anything that didn't concern his lovely Gryffindors. What did he care about a Slytherin? Nothing, and remembering that made Severus' stomach twist.

"For a great many things, Severus," Dumbledore replied quietly. "A great many things." For a short while, he was quite. "Mostly for not standing with you when you needed me."

"It doesn't matter." And he wasn't going to fall for it; it was too dangerous, and he'd been hurt enough by the misplaced, innocent first trust of the man. "There isn't any point to you apologizing." Cold dark eyes closed smoothly, as if to shut the man out.

"All right, then, Severus." That quiet again, and for a moment, Severus honestly thought that he was gone. There came a quiet question again, though. "Do you know who did this to you?"

The boy's mouth curled a little, before he replied, "And does that matter, either? If I tell you 'yes', will you pry at me until I give a name? Or, if I tell you 'no', would you even bother to look?"

"I see." Dumbledore sighed quietly. "If you change your mind, Severus, you know where to find me."

"Telling the Gryffindors that, as a Slytherin, I had it coming to me?" For that, he probably faced a detention, at least. Or a loss of points. But what did it matter, those points? One trophy, one sad party that only made the other houses hate them more.

"Severus, I have never said any such thing. I have, however, expected a great deal more from you than I would from most students." The old man frowned. "Perhaps I was wrong to do so. I see that. I am sorry for it; but I have never implied in the least that such a thing was so."

"Actions are more important than words, when it comes to what you imply." High expectations. Dumbledore expected nothing from him, compared to what Tom wanted. He was so tired and run-down that that almost slipped from his mouth. but it only tumbled free as, "And I'm used to H... higher expectations than yours."

The old man nodded his head, slitted black eyes catching the motion. "Yes. Yes. Severus... if you need me, you know where to find me. It is an open invitation, no matter what the situation. I will do my best to make amends for those deeds which seem to have so injured you."

"Seem..." Severus trailed off softly. No, the old wizard just didn't grasp it at all. Seem -- as if he hadn't been hurt by how Dumbledore had acted against him. As if it were all in his mind. Yes, the run in with Remus the Beast played out perfectly in his mind as a figment of his imagination. "It doesn't matter. You'll forever be disgustingly biased for your House..."

"All right. Just remember that the offer is a standing one," the Headmaster murmured, and rose to leave.

A half-hearted, "Yes, leave," followed the Headmaster out of the curtained off area, outside of the silence barrier that separated his section from others. He was alone for a while before he heard anyone else arrive.

"Sevvie?"

"I'm awake." For Lucius, he could've probably roused himself from a coma. A coma, too, might've been easier to lift than his boredom induced haze. Severus did open his eyes a little more when Lucius pressed the curtain aside, and sat down beside him.

"I'll be gone for a while tomorrow," the other young man said faintly, pausing for a moment before curling up atop the covers, long legs pressing against Severus's through the blanket atop him. "I wanted to let you know." Lucius seemed so tired, and it was no wonder. He's seldom slept alone in six years.

"Why?" Severus shifted over just a little, to give Lucius more room. But he was tired, and it was hard to move much more than his head. One lead-like arm rose, to rest over Lucius's torso.

For a moment, he didn't think Lucius would tell him. "Father," he said finally, quietly as he nuzzling his face into Severus's throat. "Father was in Honeydukes."

"Lucius..." Severus's fingers clutched as if to pull the older boy closer. "No... Merlin, I'm sorry. I'm sorry -- is your mother...?"

"Heartbroken," Lucius whispered to him, kissing his throat lightly. "I would have been, too, if you..." His arms slipped tightly around Severus.

"I'm sorry." For having run ahead to try to help, and for Uncle Arioch being dead. There was something about Uncle Arioch being dead that tickled at the back of Severus's mind, but the pain had weighted down the information. "What're you going to do...?"

"Go home. Go to the funeral. Go... see Him..." How horrific those words seemed, even as Lucius tenderly stroked the hair back from his forehead and kissed his throat again. "It's time."

"Time...?" Time for what? Severus's arm tightened around Lucius as best as he could manage. "Maybe they'll let me leave to go to the funeral. He..." His head turned a little to kiss Lucius's forehead. "He wasn't pleased that I wasn't there last summer. I don't want you hurt, Lucius."

"I won't be hurt," Lucius promised him, petting him tenderly, slowly. "Father's dead. He won't kill me when He needs a replacement," he whispered.

Fingers stroking over his shoulders, upper chest, was soothing to Severus. Distracting, too, from the words that wanted to spill from the tip of his tongue. "Lucius... I think He killed your father."

The grimace that came over the other boy's face was obvious against his skin. Severus felt it. "I think so, too. If I don't go, Sevvie, if I don't say yes..." It was obvious that he would die, too. "I don't mind it so much. He's brilliant. He has wonderful ideas. Only..." Only he wouldn't let Tom have Severus, and then he would die, too.

"Don't be a fool, Lucius," Severus coaxed softly. "Please. It's better to be alive than dead, no matter the circumstances. This could be the best decision ever for you, or the worst, Lucius... I want you to come back here. We've still got the rest of the school year."

"I knew you would say that," Lucius replied, and he shifted, pressing his lips tenderly to Severus's, fingers tracing delicately past an ear, thumb caressing his cheekbone. "My Sevvie."

"We're still young... And when we're older, in our peak, Lucius, He'll be declining." Severus let his eyes slip closed, as he worked his mouth against the other boy's lips. A soft press against his own slightly drier lips, a tiny burst of pleasure amidst fading echoes of pain. "You're mine, Lucius."

"Yes," Lucius agreed, pointed nose lightly nuzzling against Severus's more patrician one, lashes brushing his cheek momentarily. "I love you, Sevvie."

And not Narcissa. Him. Severus shivered a little, even as his lips curled in an almost smug smile. "Yes. Stay here until you're run off..."

"Close your eyes and go to sleep," Lucius told him, kissing him again. "I won't go anywhere."

"I've never felt pain like that before," Severus murmured, turning into Lucius further. The other boy was still as warm and comfortable a presence as he had been on his first day. Just being close to Lucius made him feel better, relaxed again. "It's unbelievable..."

"I hope you never do again. I can't promise you won't. I can't promise I won't, either, but... I hope, Sevvie," Lucius replied quietly, petting him, a hand rubbing up and down his back.

"Hope sounds like... an option." A barely coherent thought, as Severus drifted away in the comfort of having Lucius there for him.

---

"Snape." The voice was deadly quiet, very calm. "How are you feeling?"

It was something of a surprise to hear Remus Lupin speak to him. The boy with the golden brown hair had been virtually silent during the remainder of fifth year and hadn't come out of his shell at all during sixth despite the fact that it was now just past Christmas. It had seemed that he was avoiding Severus, but perhaps he hadn't been.

Severus had certainly been avoiding Lupin, with a studied intensity to the point at which he would turn down hallways suddenly rather than have to walk past the other student. But somehow Lupin had snuck up on him, which was a disconcerting thought. He hated being snuck up on, and as jumpy and fidgity as he was, it only became worse when suprised. but the facade of calm was half the game, so he remained idly

"Well enough." His eyes glanced up to the Gryffindor, lifting off the pages of the book he'd been reading.

"I heard about your aunt and uncle. My condolences," Remus said gently, sitting down next to him. "It must have been really awful. Malfoy's been quiet since..."

"He's been busy with the family duties, since he's now the head of the Malfoy family," Severus excused. All the duties befitting a Malfoy -- from visiting Porrima in St. Mungo's, to managing the estate and the family fortune. And there were his duties to their Lord, which were limited at the moment -- but only for a few months more, until the end of school and the wedding for Lucius. "Uncle Arioch... is missed by us both."

"I also wanted to apologize for what happened last year. I... I didn't know anything about it. I swear," Remus said, shaking his head. "I've done some stupid things, but I wouldn't have endangered you, Severus... Not purposely."

"Of course not." No, Lupin was just one more smug Gryffindor, and an absolute beast. "If this is about your... impairment, Lupin, don't fear -- I'm still holding my tongue. I'd like a chance to finish my education, after all."

"No, no," Remus denied. "It's not just that. I mean, it is, but it isn't. I appreciate it, it's just..." His shoulders slumped slightly. "Sirius shouldn't have done that to you. No one should have. Sna.. Severus, I don't... I want..."

"I don't care." The book that had been in his lap closed smoothly, punctuating those words with Severus's usual dramatic flair. "Sirius nearly killed me -- you nearly killed me. You're a risk to this school, and a risk to me by simple virtue of your 'friends'."

"Severus..."

"Sucking up to Remus again, Snape?" That was Black, and he was definitely sneering at Severus with an almost vicious amount of anger. He'd never managed to prove that Lucius and Severus were responsible for his wetting accidents, but he knew. Oh, he knew!

"Yes." Anger welled in Severus, as he glanced up to Black. He wanted to hurt him, to wipe that sneer right off of his face. "Oh, yes. You can't imagine the sort of sucking up that I'm willing to do to mend a wrong done to me."

"You little pr..."

"That's enough," Remus told the dark-haired boy sharply. "Let's not do this, Sirius."

Severus wasted no time in getting to his feet, standing as if waiting for Black to step aside. "Get out of my way, Black -- I want nothing to do with your murdering person."

"You keep away from Remus," Sirius growled, shaking his head. "Scum like you wouldn't even be worth the effort required for him to wipe his boots on you."

"Hah. Watch your back, Black -- because one day, I'll be wiping my boots on your broken back." He effortlessly pressed past the Gryffindor boy, though he turned his head to call to Lupin, "A good day to you, Remus."

"Don't worry, Snape. I'll be watching. And I'll take you down with me before anything else happens," Sirius promised him quietly. "I know your type. You'll go evil, there's no doubt. Just like him."

"He's not such a bad sort, once you know Him," Severus whispered in an almost threatening tone. Yes, if he scared them, they'd leave him be -- and Black, at least, certainly deserved to be scared.

"Fuck," Remus whispered, and went pale white as he looked at Severus, golden eyes wide, almost betrayed. "Fuck. Severus..."

"Slimeball," Sirius breathed. "Sick, twisted, evil fucking bastard!"

"Completely. I'm just what you've said that I was since first year. Now stay out of my sight, Black. I was simply here reading before you Gryffindors swept out of the air."

Remus gave a sigh, a heavy sound that seemed to ache. "Come on, Siri."

"But he..."

"Just come on."

"Better for me to leave -- because I know you won't follow me to the dungeons." Severus sneered that over his shoulder, as he started to walk away. He seemed perfectly calm, outwardly, save for the white-knuckled grasp of his book. They thought they were so much better than him.

"Trash," Peter Pettigrew sneered as he walked past to join the other two, beady eyes sweeping over Snape with repulsion.

"Crucio." A thing whispered, so that it simply shot a spasm of pain through Pettigrew. Then Severus slipped down the hall, uncaring of the panic he'd left.

They deserved it.

---

The joyous yelps all around them were hard to deny, particularly as Rosier and Wilkes were dancing on a table top close by the Common Room fire, showering the place with chocolate frogs and frosted almonds, yelling with delight. It was the last night before the end of school, the crowning achievement of Lucius's year as Head Boy.

Not only had Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup, they'd won the House Cup, as well.

"This is it, Sevvie. It's been magnificent," Lucius declared, slightly tipsy from the amount of spiked punch he'd consumed.

Severus's own drinking of it had been equal with Lucius -- it was probably Bulstrode who'd spiked the punch, but what did he care? That night wasn't 'it' for him. One more year left, one cold, lonely year without Lucius... While Lucius's wife would bear his child. The whole world was going to change after that night.

So why not get fucking smashing drunk?

"The night, Lucius, or the drink?" Severus smirked a bit sadly, draining his goblet.

"Mmmm, both. I'm glad we're going home tomorrow," the blond man replied with a little smile that matched Severus's own twist of lips. "I'll have a whole month alone with you."

"And the decorators, and..." Severus let Lucius pull him closer, offered the dregs of his goblet up to the pale blonde's lips. "A whole month, still, before--"

"Before Lucius Malfoy becomes Lord of Malfoy manner, with the lovely Narcissa soon to be a Malfoy at his side!" Lestrange announced loudly, as he climbed up onto a chair to do it.

Cheers rang out through the room and someone set off a shock of confetti, silver and green glittering stuff that rained all over the place as a chant requesting a speech set up from the back of the room. It seemed for a moment as if Lucius would give in and give one, but he finally just laughed and shook his head, ignoring the lot of them.

"I'm going to bed," he said simply, and there were sounds of great disappointment, but no one dared to argue with him.

"Most concise speech by a Head Boy yet," Severus smirked softly, tossing his goblet towards one of the younger boys. "It's no reason to stop the party -- we did win the House Cup for the fourth year in a row."

"Yeah!" one of the younger boys yelled, and the party resumed even as Severus and Lucius both abandoned it.

Being Head Boy was quite the thrill; it had gotten Lucius his own room, and that was where he and Severus went, quietly walking down the stairs side by side to reach it.

"Sevvie..." It was said quietly, thoughtfully. "You know, even though there's this thing with Narcissa..."

"What, called marriage?" He sneered it a little -- it was impossible for Severus not to sneer at the idea. He jerked the door open in front of them, and stepped into the space before Lucius could.

"You know I'd marry you if I could, Sev," Lucius replied quietly. "You rather unfortunately can't bear children, and, well..." He shut the door behind the two of them. "He's got other plans for you."

"I'm to study up on potions, He told me over Christmas. On any sort that I can think of, Lucius -- thank Merlin that I'm at least going to be used at something I'm naturally talented in... And I think I'm going to get us a few more goblets of that punch." Which meant he spun a little unsteadily, to go back down to the commons room before he realized to simply call it to them.

"Leave that, Sevvie," Lucius replied once he had the cups unsteadily in his hands. "Put it down, and let's..." Grey gaze darted to the bed. "I want to touch you."

"We'd better be Apparating home tomorrow, Lucius..." He couldn't help but take a swig of the overly sweet punch -- Severus still had that draw to sweet tasting things, to the way the liquored drink clung to his lips even when Lucius pulled the cups from his fingers.

"You know that's illegal..." Lucius teased. "Especially since you aren't eighteen yet, Sevvie..." He tugged him close, arms wrapping tightly about the other boy's shoulders as he herded him in the direction of the bed. "A carriage is coming for us, actually."

"Oh, as if I haven't done illegal things before, Lucius, and as if I give a shit if it is or not..." His breath still caught in his throat, ever so slightly, when Lucius wrapped him close. It was good to be liquor hazed, because the fuzz let him slip back to times when he'd felt less jaded and pained over the act. It let those bad memories slip from his mind, back into nothingness as he was herded backwards.

"Mmmm, I know, but it gives me nearly three hours alone with you to show you precisely how much I love you," Malfoy declared, nuzzling at the throbbing pulse in his throat. "Quite a lot, Severus."

"Enough to remember that I'm here, alone and bored while you're playing family man and rubbing your wife's swollen ankles? Or shall the house-elves do that?" The thought -- mostly the consideration of Narcissa's likely indignity to that -- made laughter, rough and low, well in his throat.

"Sevvie..." It was said softly, sadly as Lucius pushed him back into the feather tick atop the bed, hands working carefully to rid the dark-haired boy of his robes. "You know I'll be thinking of you all the while. You know..."

Severus gave a lazy, sensual stretch back against the bedding; it was so easy to splay himself open for Lucius's pleasure, for the pleasure of them both. Just careless, wanting motions of his body against Lucius's. "I want to do what you do, Lucius." His tongue darted out, to lick his bottom lip. Yes, he wanted to do that again, as he didn't often enough get to do. Lucius, after all, was physically stronger, and tussling for it usually left him the loser. "So you'll remember."

"How could I ever forget?" Lucius replied, voice gravelly and low with need. "You've been mine ever since, Sevvie. You'll always be mine. I'll always have part of you with me, no matter what happens..." he whispered, biting into the other man's shoulder as he finished undressing him.

Severus's breath hissed softly in Lucius's ear, and he grunted when he pressed into that tender bite. "Bloody... oh, hell yes, Lucius."

"Anything you want. Anything. I'll give it to you, I'll make sure, Sevvie..." Lucius's mouth was on him, warm and lingering between words, teasing at him. "Anything I can give..."

"You," Severus drawled, fingers digging into Lucius's shoulders as he twisted his lover just slightly -- enough to slip the other boy beneath his lean formed body.

With an easy grace, Lucius gave in to him, allowing his hands to fall to the side as Severus began to undress him in turn. "I'm yours," he promised a little breathlessly, mouth trembling. It wasn't often that they made this switch, but how he loved it when they did. He loved everything with Severus, though, so it was no surprise. "For always. No matter what."

"Smug Malfoy," Severus drawled, kissing a wet line from Lucius's throat to his sternum. "You get what you want... 'm just lucky to be that."

"Yes..." It was a breathy sort of answer, Lucius's hands moving to stroke through the slightly damp strands of Severus's hair, still bath-wet.

Lucius's agreement made Severus laugh softly again, as he slid a hand under his body to pull him close. "If you want me so badly, conjure something up..."

"Conjure what?" Lucius teased him, wrapping his legs tightly around Severus's thighs. "What is it that you want, then? Hm??"

"Something slicker than spit, for the sake of the carriage ride tomorrow." Lucius had such strong thighs, and they squeezed a needy groan from him as he kissed the pale skin of Lucius's chest once more, before placing an open mouthed half-bite against unmarred skin.

The blond groaned beneath that nip, a handful of shaky words and a shuddering flood of magic granting Severus's request. "Please, Sev. Please... Just touch me, do something..." That small bite excited Lucius, and he wanted more, badly.

Slick strands of hair teased against his chest, as Severus continued to bite at Lucius, continued to tease at him just enough to drive him to more. "I want to hear you ask for once, Lucius..."

Pink tongue darted, moistened lips as Malfoy arched up against the slimmer boy. "Make me," he whispered, shivering.

Just what Severus had really wanted to hear. Lucius Malfoy, begging for him like a woman, was just what Severus would drive him to. "I will." A firm press of his voice, as he kissed and nipped to one of Lucius's nipples. A dart of tongue, pressing there while Severus dipped his stomach for a moment to rub against Lucius's weeping cock.

"Oh, Merlin!" It was a violent outburst of sound, Lucius's hips jerking up as if to ask for more. "Sev... Oh, God, Sev, Merlin, that feels...." Good, he wanted to say. Spectacular. Incredible.

None of that reached Severus's ears as words. More, thoughts, and a sick, sad understanding between them both. Another nip, a dart of tongue, and Severus asked again, "Well?"

"I want you," Lucius whispered to him, fingers stroking lightly against the back of his head, touching his shoulders. "I want you, Sevvie."

"If you don't still want me twenty years from now, Lucius, I'm going to be awfully disappointed in you." Severus tried to sound stern, but only placed another kiss over that hard, dampened nipple, and shifted his hips carefully to lodge his cock between firm globes. Lucius had such a perfect, full ass -- it was a pity that Narcissa would never appreciate it.

Grey eyes closed, Lucius's mouth trembling for a moment, his hands clutching tightly at Severus's shoulder blades as his knees came up, clasping the other young man tightly. "Now. Now, Sev..."

Severus shifted just enough to press at the crinkled entrance, to feel slickness leak against his cock. Lucius always was overzealous with the lubrication spells when it came to his own comfort. "You won't die if I linger," he murmured tenderly.

"No, but I might kill you," Lucius teased, pulling him down to steal his mouth. Hips arched up off of the bed, trying to force what he wanted.

"Good way to die." Lucius's next arch was met with a dipping of Severus' hips, the pressure of bluntness slipping into barely forgiving heat. "Ohhh, what a way to die..."

A cracked groan broached the blond man's lips, his entire body tensing momentarily before going limp with want. "Please, Sev." Those words rasped out on the catch of his breath. "Please fuck me, Sevvie. Please... fuck..."

Lucius Malfoy, begging for him -- him, Severus Snape, his cousin and lover of years now. Decadent, distasteful in so many ways, and impossible for either of them to deny themselves. Lucius was his, as he had been since that first innocent kiss shared between them. Not that woman's, but his. "Yes, yes, Lucius. I'm going to do, do just that." Dip his hips into unforgiving heat that threatened to swallow him whole, crush kisses against Lucius's panting lips.

"Hard..." Lucius moaned, setting his heels against the mattress and pushing up with a firm thrust of his entire body as if seeking all of Severus, every bit of him. "Give me more, Sev... More, more, fuck, Merlin, God, yes, Sev!"

"More...?" he whispered something, close to Lucius's ear -- a simple, slight engorgio spell that filled into Lucius more perfectly than Severus already did. Then he picked up his thrusts, driving needfully into Lucius's tight, clutching body.

"ANNHH!!" It had obviously been just what the blond needed, demanded, for his head was tossing wildly back and forth, fingers clenching tightly into the sheets. "Fuck... hurts... yes... yes... fuck... hard... SEV!"

So demanding...

So demanding, and loud -- surely the Slytherins lingering in the commons heard them. Severus didn't care. He slammed his hips home, concentrating on the way that Lucius's pleading shouts reached to the air, mingled with his raggedly panted breaths. More rough snaps forwards, and he exploded into his lover, in a burst of need and pleasure that was shortly echoed by the wet splatter of liquid against his belly, Lucius's cock spitting deliriously as he came.

When grey eyes finally opened and looked at him, there was no doubt in Severus's mind that Lucius adored him. "My Sevvie," Malfoy said sleepily, kissing him with lips so soft it almost went unfelt.

A whisper to undo the spell, and Severus slipped free of Lucius's tight clutch. "A pleasant end to your last day of school, Lucius...?"

"I couldn't have come up with a better one." The words were more than slightly slurred thanks to the punch and the sheer exhaustion of being fucked. "Mmmm, I ache..."

"You ache, and I'll have a hangover..." Not to mention that he'd had the nerve to use an engorgio charm on his cock. Something best not thought of once he was sober. Severus shifted lazily, a hand pressing warmly to Lucius's chest as he got himself situated. "Ache all night, Lucius."

"Be lucky 'f it doesn't ache three days from now," Lucius teased him, kissing him again as he closed his eyes. "Hmmm..."

Another shift, and his arms were full of Malfoy. His arms, not Narcissa's... oh, yes. Yes, he could sneer at her, and know that Lucius was his. He wasn't going to let that girl batter down his nerves because of jealousy. Severus toyed with Lucius's mouth for a moment more, then half-heartedly dragged a sheet up over them both, casting a cleaning spell.

Silence settled over the head boy's room.

---

Cake.

Severus loved cake.

Severus had absolutely and definitely no intentions whatsoever of taking so much as a single bite of the violet and white sugary confection that had been handed to him on a plate with all the delicate consistency of fairy wings. Not even if it was the last line between himself and death would he indulge in a piece of that cake.

Ever.

It was a matter of principle, and a matter of being proudly stern and miserable, and a matter of not wanting to eat goop. Oh, there were properly decadent sweets, but just from the over-flowered appearance he wanted nothing to do with them.

Purple. Really, how distasteful. Narcissa, best as he could tell, had chosen most of the colors. Lucius was more prone to greens, and even delicate blues and greys. But purple?

Severus was working hard to distract himself as the bride and her groom took a slow spin above the dance floor, because if he took one bite of that cake, he was going to end up chewing on his fork.

Well.

That or he would stab the bitch with it.

Either way, it wasn't good.

"Severus." That was Tom's familiar voice, and it made him stiffen slightly. "They're truly lovely together, aren't they? I knew they would be when first I saw her. Not as bright as he, perhaps, but lovely nonetheless. Did you realize that she's nearly entirely Veela? Her mother was full-blooded, and her father three quarters," the Dark Wizard drawled thoughtfully.

"That's lovely to know, my lord." His drawl was insincere, and about as pleasantly toned as the grip of his fingers on the delicate looking plate. severus was in no mood for any of tom's banter, knowing that within short minutes they couild become ravings or worse. "I'm sure they'll have beautiful children."

"Yes," the man replied, and the word seemed almost greedy, grasping, desperate. "Beautiful children. Sexual children..."

It was sickening. Severus was suddenly glad the cake was unappealing to him, because if it hadn't been before, it was certainly disgusting now. Bile tickled at the back of Severus's throat, threatening. "My lord, surely such powerful children as would come from their union have more use than that."

"Every Dark Lord needs a consort, does he not? And as you have been so unwilling, Severus, I have better uses for you. This one, I will breed as pleases me," Tom informed him shortly.

"Not unwilling, my Lord, but unaccustomed... Lucius has spoiled me." Lucius showed him what a good, pure union could be, what pleasure was, and desire. Thank Merlin.

"Yes. Yes, just so. That is, after all, why I punished both you and Arioch. You're lucky I didn't decide to discipline you more stringently," Tom replied quietly. "I have other plans for you now, however, important ones."

"I've still one year left in school, sir," Severus breathed, turning just enough to look the dark Lord in the eyes. He wouldn't be pulled from school, would he? As lonely as it would be that last year, it was a respite. "What plans?"

"All will be revealed given proper time, Severus." It wasn't much of an answer, if it could be considered one at all. "Do well in your studies. I expect full scores from you."

"Yes, My Lord -- I won't disappoint." Himself. To have less than full scores would disappoint himself so much more than the tall, black-haired man could imagine. And Lucius. "Will I be allowed to stay at Malfoy Manor?" He was still a minor, and through some tiny loophole, Lucius had been able to snag him under his 'custody' rather than having to have him live with a very distant cousin.

"Yes. As... encouragement, perhaps, should Lucius not correctly recall his duties to his bride. If that becomes the case, you will, of course, come to stay with me instead," Voldemort informed him coolly, and it sent shivers of terror down Severus's spine.

"Understood, My Lord. What... duties, exactly, are there?" The 'usual' ones he assumed. Then again, Severus had learned to assume nothing where Tom was concerned.

"Why, to love, honor and cherish, Severus. Were you not listening?" It was a mocking reply, cold and slightly sneering. "Really."

No such thing had been said in the ceremony, so Severus couldn't suppress the furrow that fell between his eyebrows. "Sir... I apparently wasn't listening."

A hand waved idly. "Never mind, Severus. His duties should be obvious, even to you. They are to produce a child. Is that not enough information?"

"And I am... to see that it happens?" Severus winced even as he said it.

"If necessary," Tom agreed simply. "I doubt that you will find it so."

"And why do you doubt it, My Lord?" Severus twitched a little with his fork, smushing it into the frosting as he spoke.

"Veela are known for their remarkable procreational aptitude," Voldemort replied, raising an eyebrow. "You don't like the cake, Severus? Most odd, considering your usual proclivities."

"I know, sir." Severus's lips twitched a little as he looked down at the piece. "I've simply no appetite today."

"I see. Perhaps that's no surprise. I believe I shall dance with the bride, Severus. I hope you continue to enjoy the reception," the man said, and with that, He thankfully abandoned Severus to his smashed cake.

Watching Tom -- no, Lord Voldemort -- tap Lucius's shoulder once He was on the dance floor was vaguely, oddly amusing. Narcissa was terrified of Tom, after all. Severus sometimes felt nervous, ill, or dread-filled, but never did he turn the shades of pale that girl could. Or look like he was going to piss his elegant formal robes.

Idly, he finally took a nip of the cake's frosting. Buttercream.

Damn them both.

"Not going to eat any of the cake, Sev? I made sure it was the icing you liked. Narcissa nearly wet herself," Lucius drawled as he came over, glancing over his shoulder.

"Over the cake, or just now?" Severus looked up to his lover. "I'm trying to eat it. You'll probably find great swathes of it missing a week from now." When his appetite felt better, less like making him toy with it. As things were, he was licking the fork idly. If he chipped a tooth, well, he could repair it.

Lucius laughed at that before leaning close. "There's another in the kitchen. One just for you, and even bigger." Grey eyes sparked with life for a moment, nowhere near as dead as they'd seemed during the wedding. "I wanted you to know that it was special."

"You're a bastard, Lucius. Have I said that today?" Severus pitched his voice low, funneled it as a whisper just towards Lucius's ears. "And I love you, you smug fool." Then he took a lick of the frosting again. "Yes, it's impossible to deny that this cake is wonderful. I'll have to eat it mangled."

"Shame I can't eat it off you." The reply was murmured just as quietly, Malfoy's mouth tilting upwards in a little smirk that was undeniably gorgeous. "It'll be good for you to eat it, even if it's mangled. I know how much you love sweets. Narcissa wanted something less sugary, but I wouldn't allow it."

"Is she trying to keep her girlish figure?" No doubt -- she didn't have the metabolism of a ferret, as Lestrange had often accused Severus of having. Never mind that his actual words had been 'deranged ferret', and that it had preceded a chocolate frog being thrown at his head. That was at school -- at the current time, with the elder Lestranges milling about in the reception area, and Severus and Lucius so clearly in Voldemort's favor, Nordstrom would never do such a thing. "She chose the color, didn't she?"

"Purple..." Lucius sneered. "If it had been violet or perhaps a shade of greyish purple, subtle in context and shade, it could have been endured, but it's remarkably garish. Whatever children we have, I most sincerely hope they carry none of her love for excessive tawdriness."

"Lock up your mother's romance novels now, Lucius." His lips curled a little as he teased that, and glanced back over to the dance floor. "She's beautiful. And she just stepped on His foot. Bloody nervous, too."

"Perhaps if He obliterates her now, I can marry you instead," Lucius replied under his breath.

"Death at the reception would certainly be grounds for such a drastic action..." For some reason, Severus couldn't shake the mental image of Lucius being turned into a woman to make it more seemly... possibly because Severus was very fond of his own gender.

"I can tell what you're thinking, Severus. You may stop now," Lucius assured him as the dance ended and Voldemort began to head their way, Narcissa clinging weakly to his arm.

"Oh, but it's such an amusing image. Though, your dress would have to be a rich Slytherin green..." He smiled for a moment, shifting his plate so Lucius couldn't make him accidently 'drop' the thing.

"I shall hurt you for that when you least expect it," Lucius replied from between his teeth as he reached out his hands and said in a louder tone, "Narcissa, my love."

And Severus truly wanted to hurt Lucius for that. He grimaced a little, though, and bore it -- bore the sight of Narcissa breaking away from Voldemort, taking Lucius's hands. "Darling. Will we dance again? Or mingle?"

"Of course, love," Lucius replied, so solicitous that it made Severus's teeth ache.

Perhaps he wouldn't eat any of that cake after all.

"Don't enjoy socializing too late, my sweet children," Tom drawled in a loomingly parental tone. "Tonight is a blessed night best made use of."

"Of course, my Lord," they responded together, though Narcissa's voice trembled faintly beneath the sound of Lucius's.

"Should I socialize, sir, or...?" Severus tilted his head a little, scraping his fork against the plate a little.

"Yes," Tom agreed. "Make yourself useful, Severus. See what you can learn this evening. And Severus..."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"I'll see you later tonight."

---

Severus all but crawled down to breakfast the next morning. Weak-kneed, shaken and hurting. Worse, was that he didn't have the potions he needed on hand and fresh. The pepper-up that he'd had in his bedroom had been a bit stale, and thus painfully under-powered. Just enough to get him down to the breakfast nook, where he slumped in exhaustion.

At least Lucius and that slut weren't down to breakfast yet. He hoped Lucius didn't bring her, either. She seemed the sort to sleep in, didn't she? The sort to sleep in for hours. Lazing in having a warm body next to her, maybe Lucius's warm seed congealing within her...

Severus decided he was going to die of jealousy before simple pain from lack of treatment could. "House-elves... where the bloody fuck are you...?"

Almost tremulously, great lantern eyes peered around a corner. "Dobby is being here!" the voice squeaked out tremulously. "What can Dobby be getting Master Severus for eating?"

"A pepper-up potion, and all three of the green vials -- not the flasks, but the vials -- that I keep down on my desk downstairs."

"Is not breakfast..." Dobby began tentatively.

"Get that, then I'll eat breakfast." He shot a glare at the elf, as he shoved tangled black hair off of his face. The odd urge was to just rip that handful out, but it wouldn't accomplish anything.

"Yes, Master Severus!" the elf squeaked, and disappeared with a pop.

It was nearly five minutes later when Dobby returned, but he was laden with the requested potion and vials as well as with a bowl of cereal, jug of milk, and glass of juice, all very carefully balanced.

Perfect -- even breakfast looked pathetically miserable. "And a piece of the wedding cake, Dobby -- thank you." Curt dismissal for the house-elf, as he plucked free the cork from the pepper-up potion, and licked the damp end to test if for freshness. Yes, he'd just made it the week before the wedding.

His ears were smoking by the time the elf returned with a cake, but he felt better.

"Master Malfoy is saying Dobby showing you your cake today," the elf told him, doddering beneath the weight of the thing. It was twice the size of the wedding cake, and much more brilliantly made, from the sugar rosettes to the streaming, glittering ribbons that bedecked the thing. Gaudy? Perhaps, but infinitely nicer than that horrid thing at the reception.

"My cake, hmn?" He was toying with the last vial, which he'd just poured over his half-strangled neck to remove the marks. "Did he give any reason for me getting a cake?"

The elf blushed -- actually blushed! "Master Lucius, he says because you are his...!"

"Perfectly all right, Dobby -- just cut me a piece, hmn?" Severus's jaw still ached, so he could probably splash a little milk over it and just swallow it down.

"Morning, Sevvie." That was Lucius's voice, the quick feel of lips pressed to the back of his neck leaving him aching. "Did you sleep well?" he asked solicitously, though Severus knew that he already knew the answer. The house-elf was quaking in his filthy pillowcase at the sight of the blond man.

"Nothing that pepper-up potion couldn't solve -- where's your wife?" Hopefully nowhere nearby. He still felt, and probably looked as if he'd been hit by a truck. "Did you sleep well?"

"She's still asleep, and no, I didn't. She flops like a fish, aside from smelling vaguely of one." Obviously Lucius hadn't much liked what they'd done the previous evening. "I hope to Merlin she becomes pregnant quickly."

"C-can D-dobby be g-getting M-master breakfast?" the house elf squeaked.

"Cake, Lucius, or would you prefer something more nutritious...?" Severus offered Lucius the bowl of cereal, even as he sat down across from him at the small breakfast table. "You could always put her in a body bind."

"I doubt it's worth the effort. Belgian waffles, Dobby, with strawberries and powdered sugar, and make it quickly," Lucius told the elf with cold inflection, turning down Severus's cereal. "I'd rather have something warm, Sev."

"I can understand that entirely," Severus agreed, shifting long legs tiredly. it was pure accident that his legs brushed Lucius's, but once there, he didn't move them. "'m just grateful that it got the vials I told it to."

"Mmm. Father always said Dobby didn't have a brain between its ears," Lucius drawled even as the elf returned with his breakfast in hand.

"Here, Master, here!" Dobby said hurriedly, placing it before him.

"Perhaps there's just a little one." Severus glared for a moment, and the elf scurried back with his piece of cake. "There." The glass of milk was half poured over the cake part, and then Severus started to eat it with his spoon. "Merlin, I'm tired... you're lucky you retired so early. Lestrange was being an ass."

"Nordstrom is always an ass, Severus. I most sincerely doubt that will change anytime soon. If we're very, very lucky, perhaps he'll manage to get himself murdered in his sleep sometime soon. Avada Kedavra," Lucius sneered.

"An idiot like that might just cast it on himself." Cold mushy cake, and very sweet frosting made for a fairly decent breakfast for his still energy deprived body, Severus decided after he'd had a few bites. "He did say something useful, that He is going to take to heart -- about how Dumbledore looks on Potter as his successor. He is the heir of Gryffindor."

"I see...." Lucius's expression turned thoughtful. "I'll talk to Him about it. He'll likely want to get rid of Potter before he becomes very powerful, or at least I should think so. Still, He does as He likes..."

"Just so. Are you aware of His plans for any child you have, Lucius...?" Severus looked uneasy as he turned to that idea, and his chewing slowed some.

"I assume that He will tell me when the appropriate time arrives..." The blond began devouring his breakfast with precision. "I most sincerely hope that there will be more than one, as I should like to have an heir even if He is bound to use one for whatever devious purpose He likely has."

"Consort, Lucius -- He told me last night." Severus's face looked quietly pleading as he looked at Lucius. For his bare seventeen years, his eyes looked too old -- as they always had, though now age mingled with tiredness. "Lucius, you must at least not let... so early." That summer that had so hurt him had been too soon for such a thing, far too soon. Now it was like tripping down stairs; worth bothering with at the moment, but not worth remarking on after it passed.

Malfoy sighed, looking at him seriously, lurking schemes in the depths of those grey eyes. "Yes. Perhaps. Consort, you say?" That seemed to hold quite a lot of water with him. "A position of great power, consort to the Dark Lord. He would prefer a male, I'm sure, so we will have to be certain that only male children come to fruition... It's different, you know. When you're Veela, or even partially so. Even if it does come to be at the same age as you went, Severus, or even earlier, it won't matter so much..."

Severus shivered faintly, biting down on his spoon out of reflex. "Lucius." His lover's name came out as a hiss, before he pressed on with, "Matters need to be handled differently, if He at least doesn't want the boy to hate Him. Not so young."

"Well. We'll see when the time comes. I wouldn't send someone completely unprepared, Severus." That voice seemed faintly offended, as if Severus had offered him some sort of personal insult by making that implication.

It was a losing battle, Severus decided as he shifted one of his legs to rub against Lucius's. "I know. But even prepared, it's not the most pleasant of things..." Lucius didn't know what it was like, after all, and he did.

"I trust you, Severus. I do," Lucius replied. "Things are simply different when you're Veela, and any child Narcissa and I create will have... more needs than you recall me having. She's very, very Veela, you know," and grey eyes seemed vaguely distant for a moment. "Shame you can't get a woman pregnant without having sex with her." And the unspoken words... 'a shame you aren't Veela, too, Severus'.

Such a shame that he wasn't. "You can, actually," Severus drawled, "Though it's a complicated muggle thing."

Lucius's nose wrinkled. "I'd rather not contemplate it. Muggles are odd creatures, though, so I suppose it's only natural that they would want to impregnate their females without touching them. I shouldn't like to touch them," he said with clear disgust.

"I prefer to avoid the gender, regardless of species..." Severus scraped up the last of his piece of cake, then folded his arms neatly on the table-top. At least he felt more like a person than he had when he'd slumped downstairs. "So, what're you going to do today?" Before, when it was just them, or just them and Lucius's parents, they'd lay around in the sun, or toy with potions, read, inspect spells...

It seemed, for the moment, that Lucius could tell precisely what he was thinking. "Let's go swimming," he offered, polishing off his breakfast with a last bite. "It'll be good to get outside for a bit."

Severus smiled a little, and waited to get up when Lucius did. "You've bathed since last night, Lucius? You shouldn't contaminate the pool water, after all..."

"Well, he's going to allow you into it," a sharp voice declared from the doorway, "so it likely already is."

"Good morning, Narcissa," Lucius said coolly. "How are you feeling?"

"I ache," she said shortly, "and I hope to God I'm pregnant. Are you always so inept?"

Severus turned slightly to look at the Veela woman. She looked sleep ruffled -- and she'd come down in her house-robe? How horrible. Lucius was perfectly dressed, as was Severus, despite his own rough night. The woman had no dignity, it seemed. "Inept? How strange. Lucius is usually wonderful in bed." Hot, passionate, and so responsive and good at sensing needs.

"Ha," Narcissa snarled, glaring at Severus. "Only if he's fucking someone up the ass, apparently. He is... He is... Incompétent! Inutile! Déplacé!"

"Well, now that we know what you think of me..." Lucius began, gaze going dark, and Severus just knew that now was a very bad time to be remotely close to the same room as Lucius.

"Lucius, let's go outside," Severus coaxed, rising smoothly to his feet. Anything to cut the tension just slightly, even if he wanted to see Lucius cast a lengthy Crucio over the woman. "And Narcissa..." He fixed her with a firm look, "How are you so well aware of what it should be like? Perhaps you've reached the point of, ah, being a mineshaft?"

"You...!!!" she shrieked, and promptly flung Lucius's used plate at him.

Malfoy's wand was out, and the thing shattered into pieces before it could even get close. "You shouldn't throw things at Severus for being correct," he bit out, argent gaze narrowed. "You slut."

"Perhaps this would be easier if you dropped your acts, Narcissa," Severus suggested, brushing a few porcelain bits off of his clothes. "The truth shouldn't so outrage you."

Her grey-blue eyes were overflowing, features becoming sharp, undeniably peaked. It wouldn't have surprised Severus if her shoulders had sharply sprouted wings, though he supposed that partial-blood Veela conceivably weren't capable of such a thing. "I hate you. I hate you both. And I hope whatever children I bear you will bring you misery such as you have never known, Lucius Malfoy!"

"Such a curse," Lucius mocked. "Come along, Sev. Let's go swimming."

Severus arched an eyebrow at her, but nodded to Lucius. This was her choice, to take things this route -- it didn't have to be, and perhaps it wouldn't always be. But there was nothing to do for it if she were going to be a bitch about the matter.

"All right, Lucius."

---

"Well. You're going to be joining us this year." Parkinson's voice was much more restrained than it had ever before been, but why shouldn't it be? All of the seventh year Slytherins knew that he was in Lucius's favor, and in the favor of the Dark Lord, as well.

None of them knew him as Tom. They were all very, very lucky. Not that they knew of their exceedingly good luck, the fools.

"Of course I am," Severus drawled, as he languidly dropped his bag on the largest, most comfortable bed of the room. The bed that had been his and Lucius's bed, before. "What did you expect me to do, get a flat outside the school and fly in daily for classes?"

"It wouldn't have surprised any of us," Rosier called from his own bed, chuckling. "You've always got what you wanted, after all, haven't you, Snape?"

"To a point, I suppose." The bored drawl wasn't hard to affect, since he was a bit bored with the idea of having to be around them. "But I don't want for much."

"So..." Bulstrode said into gathering silence.

"So," Avery mocked him, earning himself a lazy hex that just missed.

"I hear Hecate's retiring next year," Rosier offered into the conversation, laying back upon his own bed, book clasped tightly to his chest for a moment. "Wonder who they'll get to replace her?"

"Yeah, and the Potions professor is, too. Bet they get married and run off to brew Dark creatures together?" Wilkes sneered.

"It's not really any of our business." Severus started to boredly dig a book out of his bag, then on second thought pulled free ink and parchment. He'd simply write to Lucius. "They'll probably replace them both with someone woefully incompetent."

"Like Lupin," Parkinson snickered, shaking his head. "Merlin. You tutored him for how long and he still can't stir together the simplest of potions?"

"Too long. It was a waste of my free time to have even bothered helping him for as long as I did." After all, a man whose friends were willing to commit murder through him was how trustworthy? After that one poor attempt at making amends, Lupin hadn't tried again. Black must've talked 'sense' into him. "But yes, you're probably right."

"So. What are your plans for the year?" That seemed to be a general sort of question to the room at large, Rosier raising his eyebrow as he looked at the lot of them.

"To lay Madrigal Nott," Wilkes replied, mouth turning up in a brilliant smile.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Bulstrode replied. "Everyone else has."

"Rather like a gaping tunnel by now, hm?" Severus had, after a summer around Narcissa, given up any pretenses of tolerating women -- yes, he didn't give a damn about being a queer misogynist. He stretched out on the familiar mattress, leaning back on one elbow so he could survey his new room-mates. "This year I plan on getting a perfect score on my N.E.W.T.s. Bugger the rest of it."

"Severus has the right idea," Bulstrode said. "But then, I heard that girl Malfoy married turned out to be a real slut of some sort, so you probably got tired of women, eh, Severus? I heard he's locking her in at night to at least get one heir off of her before she goes looking for it somewhere else. I have a cousin at Beauxbatons who said she was known for it, there."

"Narcissa?" Severus's lips curled in disdain. "It doesn't matter what she wants -- she's married Lucius, at His behest, and that is how things are. She can say she'll do whatever she pleases, but if she gives birth to a bastard child, everyone would know it and she wouldn't dare."

"I wouldn't dare," Parkinson laughed, shaking his head.

"Then you'd better be damned glad you can't have babies," Avery replied, rolling his eyes.

"You'd give birth to a bastard Parkinson? How messy." Severus shifted his lean weight onto the other elbow. "Now, the matter of the Quidditch team. Most of our team were seniors last year, which means the 'back ups' get to play. You, Avery, and you, Wilkes, are the new Beaters. Merlin help you if you knock one my way and it hits me."

"So who made you captain?" Parkinson said, perking up. "And where are we going to get a Seeker? Malfoy didn't even have a back-up that I know of!"

"Yes, he did," Rosier said simply, and went back to reading.

"Hecate made me captain at the end of last year, for your information, Parkinson. To keep me flying over the summer, I'd suspect. And Rosier will be a fine seeker -- he came by the estate over the summer and actually managed to catch the snitch before Lucius could."

"Dammit," the other boy cursed sulkily, dropping back onto his bed. "Doesn't it just figure."

"Likely," Rosier told him simply, and that was that.

"What're you cursing over, hmn, Parkinson?"

"You know he hates playing Chaser," Bulstrode replied idly. "He was probably hoping to replace Lucius, but as you've already managed to do that... what's first class come morning?"

"I have an advanced potions practical with Professor Ismenth because I've left all of you disgustingly far behind in the dust." Severus idly tossed his book onto the nightstand. "Then we have charms. Still double, still with those bastard Gryffindors."

"It ought to be legal to take the lot of them out in the woods and hunt them down for meat or something," Wilkes groaned, earning him the epithet of 'cannibal' from someone or other. Severus wasn't quite sure, as it was muttered.

"An interesting idea -- one that could perhaps be put into action some day." James Potter, half turned around with his eyes gleaming wetly -- just like a frightened deer. Yes, a wonderful mental image.

That seemed to quiet them all down a bit; when it came to Malfoy, or to Severus, now, they all took such words as possible truth. They were possibly true, after all, since they were in such favor with the Dark Lord. While Voldemort had recruited none of the rest of them, they'd all heard things from their fathers, and all waited impatiently to try and earn the same favor.

"You think?" Wilkes asked, seeming a little startled.

"Might." Severus gave an idle stretch -- what a pleasant change from having been their punching bag in first year. They were absolute fools if they thought he'd forgotten any of it. "It would depend -- I've never tried human flesh, yet."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Avery muttered under his breath. "Yuck."

"Tastes like chicken," Rosier said flatly, never looking up from what he was doing.

"Might taste like pork. Given the general breeding quality of Gryffindors, I'd lean more towards that... Now, blood has a particular tang to it that I can handle." He'd tasted enough of his own, Merlin knew.

Avery was definitely turning green now. "Must we?"

"Oh, what -- are you getting ill, Avery?" He sat up more, and finally rolled to the edge of his bed, perched there. "Does the thought of blood and gore make your poor stomach twist?"

"Yes, dammit, if you must know."

"He passes out at the first glimpse of it," Parkinson snickered. "Can't stand the sight of his own!"

One of Severus's eyebrows arched languidly. "Ah. that won't do at all, you know, Avery. You'll have to toughen yourself up, if you want to get anywhere in life."

"I won't be eighteen for another eight months! That's eight more months to get over it, so for the time being, could we change the subject?" Avery groaned.

"Vivisection is one sure way to cure that," Rosier pointed out seriously.

"I'm younger than you, Avery, and I've been over it for years." Severus stood, and started to move near the other boy. "I'm sure Rosier could teach that problem right out of you."

"We'll start next week. There's a room down the way that's usually empty on Thursday nights..." Rosier replied. "I'm sure it won't be that hard to find something to cut up. Perhaps that Pettigrew boy's pet rat."

Just what Severus had been thinking of, though he let his expression fall as if disappointed. "There are... better things. Like one's own body."

"Perhaps, but you could bleed to death if..." The thunk of Avery passing out cold onto the floor sounded. "..you aren't careful," Rosier said lightly.

"Put him back on his bed, Wilkes." Yes, Avery would have to toughen up if he were to get anywhere at all -- even a regular, dull wizarding job with the ministry wasn't 'clean' by any means. "I know all about being careful."

"I can only imagine you do," Rosier murmured as Parkinson tilted his head to the side.

"Hey, why don't we go filch that rat? Then you'll have something to work on, at least!"

"Tomorrow, while the Gryffindor foursome are taking Divinations." A class Severus had dropped out of after fifth year was over. "That's far better timing, after all."

Wilkes snickered. "Divination sucks so badly they won't even see it coming," he sneered.

Severus watched Avery being stretched out atop his bed, and bothered to nod a little to Wilkes's words. "It isn't really anything major, Wilkes."

"Divination's even useless for that," Parkinson sneered. "That's probably why all of the Gryffinbrats like it."

"Yes, but don't get so... pleased with yourself over plotting something that amounts to nothing. So, we're going to shed a little blood. I could conjure up a rat just as easily."

"True," Rosier pointed out lightly, "but you couldn't make it Pettigrew's. It's really a shame the others don't keep pets."

"Oh, I think that they keep each other is enough." For a fleeting moment, he wondered what a werewolf, during the time of a full moon, would look like vivisected. Then Severus shook that morbid thought off, and stepped back towards his bed.

"Going to bed?" That was Parkinson, and he looked vaguely frustrated... probably because Severus had a regular bed and the rest of them all had smaller ones.

"Yes, Parkinson, I am going to go to bed. The train ride was dull, the sorting ceremony was dull, and so was the Feast. If I'm going to be bored, I'd rather be sleeping."

"I suppose you'll expect the rest of us to go to bed, too," was the reply. Parkinson was definitely going to be careful of him, but apparently complaining wasn't entirely out yet.

"Oh, no." Severus waved an idle hand, that made his wand slip out of his sleeve and into the palm of his hand. "Carry on as you like. Just leave me be."

"That being the case," Rosier said in amusement, "I rather think he's got the right idea. Avery's out already anyway. If you want to stay up any later, wander along."

Rosier, Severus decided, was probably the only worthy wizard among them. He could certainly stand his presence better than the others. Severus started to pull down his bedding, then simply went about stripping off his robes. "Oh -- and you probably don't know it exists yet, but since you're finally in this room, there's a niche nearby, a room that's been my workshop for the past few years. Fool around with my potions supplies, and I can rather guarantee that you'll regret it."

None of them seemed willing to question that, but moments after they settled into bed and the candles were out, he could hear Rosier laughing softly to himself in amusement.

Perhaps seventh year might not be so bad after all...

---

What a perfectly sad welcoming home.

If it hadn't been for his own broom packed with his things at the last minute, he would've had to have either walked there, or begged/threatened a ride to the manor. Illegally Apparating was out of the question, considering how Dumbledore had been eyeing him for the past term.

It was cold to be standing on the front doorstep, heavily hammering home the knocker; the manor was lit, festive as it ever became -- so why was no one answering the damned door?

Finally, he pushed open the door himself, aggravated. Surely a house-elf should have been there to do that, shouldn't one have? Still, there was no one and nothing, or so it first seemed, until he heard the hiccoughed sobs from the nearby morning salon, heard the harried curses that were given in Lucius's voice.

What on earth was going on?

"Lucius...?" Severus stopped a moment, dropping his bags just inside the door, and shoving his broom down into the stand just inside the door. Then he shut out the chill winter wind. "Lucius?"

"Severus! Come here, quickly!"

Lucius sounded frantic, and it was enough to send Severus hurrying through the foyer to the door to find the blond man standing over Narcissa, the woman laying upon a settee weeping quietly, Lucius's hand firm between her legs.

"Thank God you're here. I sent Dobby to fetch a medi-wizard nearly ten minutes ago and no one's arrived. I need a towel or your robes or something," Lucius told him shortly.

Severus dropped his snow damp cloak beside him, but was equally quick to strip off his outer robe on Lucius's request. "What happened?" Narcissa's legs were spread, her dress pulled up around her as she sobbed and sobbed. Medi wizard...

"She's miscarrying. There's blood everywhere, she was spotting and didn't mention it..."

"M-mother s-said it wasn't anything to fret about!" she gulped out, shuddering. "Sh-she was a m-midwife to m-my sisters..."

"Oh, bloody fuck," Severus swore softly, shoving the robe into Lucius's hands. Then he bolted for his bags. "I've a medi-aid kit here, clean cloths and my potions!" That was halfway called over his shoulder, and he almost slipped on the runner that protected sleek marble, he was in such a rush to get to that in his bags.

By the time he got back, Lucius had Severus's robe scrunched up between Narcissa's legs, his own face set and pale. "I think the placenta just loosened and slid out," he said grimly, causing Narcissa's entire body to shake with the words as sobs ate at her.

Severus had the case in one hand, and he had it half-way open when he came into the salon. It wasn't just a placenta, of course, but Severus wasn't about to correct Lucius. "That damned medi-wizard needs to get here, but until then -- Narcissa, drink this." His fingers were shaky as he unstoppered the bottle, but they steadied as he offered it towards her lips.

She took it from him, amazingly trusting for a woman who knew that he hated her, but he supposed that under the circumstances, it was no wonder. The potion seemed to calm her, stopping the soft half-keening she had begun to give and making her eyes droop slightly, tears still spilling over as she trembled.

"Do you have more cloths, Sev?" Lucius asked, cursing softly and pressing the material more tightly against her. "Dammit, where...!" A noise outside signified the arrival of the medi-wizards upon which they'd been waiting, and he cursed again. "Let them in, Sev?"

"Late as ever," Severus sneered, setting the empty vial aside quickly, before he ran to open the front door for them. "Get in here, and quickly!"

They did come in, and took over, and it was hours before they left again; or perhaps it only seemed like it. By then, Lucius was well on his way to being drunk in the study, brooding by the fire with his feet stretched towards it. He looked remarkably like his father, right down to the bitter twist of his lips.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Severus swept Lucius's decanter away from him when he swept into the room again. "They've put her to bed, and left me with a lot of badly prepared potions to administer her. How about one for you, too?"

"He's going to be so incredibly pissed, Sev. It was a boy. I had made sure that it would be a boy," Lucius rambled. "One moment, we were sitting there waiting for you to come home, and the next..."

Carefully, Severus sent the bottle back to its place in the cabinet, then locked the cabinet suitably. All with Lucius's wand, which he'd lifted off of his cousin and lover in Lucius's initial panic. "It's nothing you have or had any control over, Lucius -- even He would understand that. Two Veela... it's bound to be hard, no matter what He thinks."

"No one mentioned it being difficult. Christ, do you know how many times I had to touch her to make it work?" He shuddered. "Where did my drink go, Sev?"

"Back in the cupboard, Lucius." Just as matter-of-factly as Lucius had asked for it. He couldn't let his friend drink himself into oblivion. Most times, it was more than a welcome option -- particularly when it pertained to something in his own life -- but this... no, this was Lucius, and he protected Lucius as best he could. Carefully, Severus perched on the arm of Lucius's chair. "You've been drinking straight from the decanter."

"Oh. Not very cricket, that, isn't that what the muggles say?" Lucius's gaze was blank, strangely unfocused. "Something like that. Ridiculous, odd creatures. Bet they turn out tons of babies. Bet they have them in litters, even, in fours and fives, like Weasleys or something. Sevvie..."

Merry Christmas, Severus wanted to say. Thank you, Voldemort. Lucius could've married a perfectly 'normal' wizard woman, and Narcissa could've married a 'normal' wizard man, and at least neither would be suffering that loss... He slid an arm around his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lucius. I know you wanted a son..."

"I need an heir. He wants a consort. Sev, what if I can't... what if she can't..." Lucius trailed off, looking up at him, and those eyes seemed to beg for him to make it better, to make it right, to make the past hours disappear.

"I'll look for potions, Lucius," Severus promised softly. "There will be something to help, I promise you..." Even if he had to make it himself, if he had to take his vague research on the matter and deepen it, find test subjects... by Merlin, he would, for Lucius.

Fingers reached up, shaking slightly as they slipped into Severus's dark hair and tugged, bringing him close. "You know I love you, Severus." It was a murmur laced with the sour tinge of liquor, as were the lips that pressed lightly to his own. "I'm so glad you're home. I'm so sorry it has to be like this."

"Don't apologize." He was sorry, too -- intensely sorry that any of it happened. That it wasn't just he, Lucius, Uncle Arioch and Aunt Porrima. Heart-sickness slunk into his throat, as he slipped closer to Lucius. "This is nothing to apologize for..."

"I'm so tired, Sevvie. So tired..." It seemed for a moment that Lucius would fall asleep just where he was, but he shifted finally. "Dobby will watch her. Come to bed with me, Sevvie..."

Lucius and Narcissa, except for their occasional attempt to make her pregnant, slept in separate beds. "She's had enough sedating brews to keep her asleep until noon." And if need be, Lucius would receive the same. Severus shifted to his feet, pulling Lucius up with him.

"I suppose we're lucky she didn't bleed to death or something equally and horrifically stupid. I can only imagine he'd have killed the both of us if she had," Lucius mumbled, allowing Severus to heft him towards the door and the stairs.

"It probably just seemed like a lot of blood," Severus murmured. "Women do that once a month, don't they? I don't know..." It was a pity that there were so many godforsaken stairs before them both. He wrapped an arm around Lucius's waist, the other keeping Lucius's arm across his own shoulders by holding it at the wrist. "He won't kill us."

"Ha." That was said most flatly. "Well, she didn't die. I suppose not. That's something, after all. Sevvie..."

"She'll be better in a few days," Severus promised, though he didn't know if he was right or not. So much for any idea, no matter how fleeting, of relaxing over his holiday. "But for now, you need to sleep, Lucius. Being awake right now isn't doing you any good."

"Don't leave me alone, Sevvie." It wasn't pleading, simply said most flatly, the tension in Lucius rising phenomenally as they moved up the stairs. "Just... don't go anywhere. Don't leave me alone."

"Now why would you think I'd leave you?" Severus got them both to the top of the stairs, and then turned to head down the hallway towards Lucius's bedroom.

"Just seems that sort of day, doesn't it? Can't do without you, Sevvie..." Lucius sighed, allowing himself to be pushed gently into the room, dazed gaze going about it for a moment. "Tired. Merlin..."

The other house-elves would bring his things up when their panic settled down. "With good reason -- it might be that sort of day, Lucius, but..." He kissed his lover's temple gently, even as he coaxed him towards the bed. "Have more faith in me than that."

"Her blood felt so hot..." It seemed to disturb Lucius on a great many levels, that fact. "Like muggle blood. It shouldn't have felt like that..."

More, Severus wondered how Lucius knew what muggle blood felt like. Severus himself had never had muggle blood on his hands; his own, yes, animals', but... "We'll sleep, Lucius -- stop thinking about it."

"How can I?" That was said numbly. "I keep seeing it every time I close my eyes..." He looked so tired, though, as if he was about to give in and fall asleep standing up, with Severus undressing him.

So Severus kept up with his steady unbuttoning, until Lucius's shirt slid off, and his trousers down. "It'll be all right, Lucius. Here -- get under the sheets..." He'd missed those sheets, that smooth fabric layered over with an almost magical aura to it.

"You're coming with me...?" It was a question, mostly, and it hurt him that Lucius seemed to feel he needed to ask.

"Of course I am." He had to work to pull a tight smile to his lips, but Lucius was so close to drunk that he wouldn't notice the work the expression took.

"'s good. 's good, Sevvie." Those words were slurred further than before, and the moment that Lucius's head touched the pillow, his eyes closed tiredly.

Severus lingered in consciousness, looking down at his lover as he slowly undressed. He'd help him through this -- he had to, for the sake of all of them. His clothes were folded neatly, but left to sit on the floor before he crawled under the sheets with Lucius. So warm, even limp-limbed as he was. Just what Severus had missed that term in school, the right that was sleeping with Lucius. Even marriage with Narcissa hadn't taken that way from him. Even what had happened tonight wouldn't take it away.

He hoped that things would always be warm between them.

---

"... when the dwarfs staged their uprising of 1256, the draconic community was caught off guard, which lead to the massacre of 1258--"

Professor Binns didn't expect to have the headmaster slam open his classroom door in the middle of his lecture.

Panting, the older man shook his head. "Apologies, Professor. I'm afraid I need Mr. Snape from your class...." Those words brought a buzzing of curiosity from the rest of the class, most particularly the Gryffindors.

The Gryffindors were, as ever, a hopeful lot. But Severus read on the headmaster's face not anger but distress and a great deal of confusion. He swept his books into his bag with a spell, and was out of his seat and walking towards the door in a matter of seconds.

"Your cousin requests that you Floo home immediately, Severus. You should fly to the Three Broomsticks and leave from there," Dumbledore said immediately as they walked out into the hallway. "There seems to be some sort of family emergency in progress."

"Did he give any specifics, sir?" Severus was walking quickly, and if his heart wasn't hammering wildly in his chest, he would've noticed the remarkable fact that the headmaster was keeping step with him. But as it was, he was half-racing to the commons room to get his broom.

"He mentioned that it was a recurrence of the situation which occurred at Christmas, but nothing aside from that. Severus, you aren't going to be in danger, are you?" the old man asked him, pausing as the boy blurted out the password to the Slytherin dorms.

"No -- it's not dangerous, only..." Severus cut himself off, as he crashed into the commons room. His bag was tossed carelessly into a chair, and he darted to the corner where his broom was. Rosier kept all of the team's brooms in wonderful condition, something Severus was suddenly exceedingly grateful for.

"Only?" Dumbledore pressed him, wanting to know why he was leaving before he left!

"It's Narcissa. She m... miscarried over Christmas." There, just enough information for the headmaster to let him leave. It likely seemed strange that he would be called there, but that could be explained later; after all, the man already had known from the start that he and Lucius were lovers.

"Oh, dear. Of course. We shall contact you later concerning schoolwork, Severus," Dumbledore told him quietly. "For now, however... fly."

"I'll be back as soon as I can be." Final words, before he started towards the front entrance. From there, he would fly to Hogsmeade and Apparate back home. Forget the damnable floo system.

---

Lucius's hands were buried in his face. "You said this would be easy." Such biting words surely would not have been stood by Voldemort under any other circumstances. "You said that Veela are extraordinarily capable of procreation."

Tom shrugged. "It becomes more difficult when the progeny is male, as it undoubtedly must be. Your mother miscarried repeatedly in attempts to create you, Lucius," he drawled, "until we found someone capable of making potions to keep her from aborting spontaneously. That is where Severus comes in." Green eyes darted towards the black-haired young man.

"Did that capable person happen to leave notes on how he created those potions, or am I going to have to create it from scratch?" Severus, seated beside Lucius on the sofa, had an arm laid comfortingly over his friend's shoulders. Poor Narcissa -- two miscarriages in two tries had to be devastating, Severus guessed -- was sleeping upstairs once more. There were anti-hysteria potions to deliver, and he planned on staying at least overnight until things were calm enough for him to leave.

"Unless Lucius is aware of notes that Arioch might have kept and not mentioned to me, I suspect you will have to begin at the beginning," Tom said coolly. "I hadn't considered that she might be incapable of carrying to term."

"He never wrote anything down," Lucius said tiredly. "Ever."

"All right." Severus nodded a little to himself. His fingers rubbed a little against Lucius's shoulder, the touch idle but meant to soothe. "I'll start my research when I return to Hogwarts. Hopefully I can at least have a preliminary ready by the time term ends. There might... it might take a few tries to get it right, sir."

"We have time. You're young yet... all of you. And I," Tom said, "I can be patient."

"I don't know if she can bear it again, not so soon," Lucius said softly.

"She will bear it or you will have another wife," was the heavy answer.

Severus kept his wince internal, and simply kept rubbing at Lucius's shoulder. If Lucius simply accepted that remark, and didn't fight it, they'd all be better for it. "The medi-wizards say another three months, at least, sir -- perhaps then would be a better time to discuss this, when the pain isn't so fresh."

"Three months... That will be in August..." Tom replied thoughtfully. "Perhaps you should take her on holiday in the meantime, Lucius. They say such things are good for the soul. Take her to the seaside, perhaps..."

"Yes..." Lucius said quietly. "Perhaps."

Meaning Severus would stay in the Manor and work on the potion. It was funny, considering how he'd hoped to... to do such great things when he left Hogwarts. Be a pioneering researcher... Well. It was the little things that mattered most. "It sounds a good suggestion, my Lord."

"Excellent. I'll trust the both of you to take care of this matter, then," Tom said shortly, and rose.

"You're leaving, my Lord?" Lucius asked quietly.

"Yes. I have business elsewhere, as I'm sure you know, and as the others expect me there, I will be joining them momentarily," Voldemort replied.

"Them, sir...?" Severus arched an eyebrow.

"My other loyal servants," Tom clarified. "You will join us once you've finished with school, Severus. I shouldn't like that damnable old fool Dumbledore to get his hands on you."

"Yes, sir." And the only reason Lucius wasn't there was likely because of Narcissa's miscarriage. He accepted that, tugged Lucius a little closer. "Good night, my Lord."

"Good night, Severus. Lucius," Tom said, and disapparated, the faint scent of ozone snapping left behind.

"I'm not going to tell her that we have to try again in three months, Sev. I'm not," Lucius sighed tiredly. "She'd fall to pieces if I told her now." Over the interceding nine months, Lucius and Narcissa had at least stopped fighting even if they did not love one another.

"Tell her in two, then. Don't even tell her -- just let it happen." Severus turned his head a little, kissing at Lucius's cheek tenderly. "I love you -- I'm sorry this happened, keeps happening..."

A weak almost-chuckle parted Lucius's lips. "It's not your fault, Sevvie. It's not. We'll just... we'll do the best that we can. That's all."

"It isn't your fault either, Lucius. It's just poor luck. If we had've been told sooner, this might only have happened once..." Severus pulled Lucius closer. "Rest with me, Lucius. Do you want a drink?"

"I fell into that trap before," Lucius reminded him quietly. "I'd rather just sit here with you, Sev. You make it better, somehow..."

It was only a slight shift Severus gave, pulling his legs up under his body to pull Lucius closer. A soft mutterance dulled the height of the flames but intensified their warmth, making the stony room more comfortable. "I want to. I should be able to, considering how much you've made better for me, Lucius." The next day he'd have to go back to school, but until then, Lucius was warm in his arms. "Talk to me, Lucius. Whatever you want, I'll listen..."

A deep sigh spilled from the blond man. "I hate to have you Marked, Sevvie. It's not at all what I thought it would be..." For a moment, it seemed he would say more, but then Lucius quieted. "You'll be making potions, though, mostly. Perhaps..."

"Can I see it, Lucius...?" Not eagerness, but Severus's odd angle to comfort. He wanted to see it, to assure Lucius.

Quietly, Malfoy reached down and unbuttoned his shirt sleeve, rolling it up with a slow and measured pace until the mark was revealed, high up on his forearm near the crook of his elbow. "There," he whispered quietly.

Severus's fingers -- longer than they had been when he was a first year, sinewy artists hands -- alighted on it, stroking half in curiosity, and half tenderly. It was a hideous thing, solid in form and flat against Lucius's skin. A black skull, with a snake curling from its jagged teeth. "It isn't so bad," he lied softly, looking up into Lucius's muted grey eyes.

"I don't like to think of it marring you," Lucius whispered, leaning forward and kissing him. There was no passion behind it, only a certain sorrow and a vague yearning.

Severus missed that passion. Any passion. There had been an offer from Rosier, but he was still devoted to Lucius, still... hopelessly devoted to his lover.

It was a pity that they hadn't had sex since just before school went in session. They hadn't shared passionate intimacies of any sort, and it left Severus feeling oddly faded. He pressed that kiss back, his own need and want leaking through in the motion. "Perhaps it won't," Severus murmured, when he pulled back a bare bit.

"My Severus. Amoral and so rarely an optimist. I wonder how you can possibly be optimistic about this?" Lucius said softly, kissing his cheekbone lightly. "I'm sorry I seem to have abandoned you, Sevvie. It's just this thing with Narcissa... I just..."

Severus nuzzled into that a little, taking what he could. "I know, Lucius. It takes a lot out of you, it hurts..." It damn well hurt to see happen again and again. It would probably happen a few more times, as much as that pained Severus to consider. Surely Lucius and Narcissa could stop trying until he had a chance to perfect a formula? "I leave Hogwarts soon, you know... but by then, you'll likely be at the seaside, won't you? And I'll be here, working..."

"Wish you could go, too. It would be so much more pleasant if you were there, Sevvie..." Lucius gave a deep sigh. "Perhaps I should ask her mother to come and see her. She might like that. It might help..."

"I'll be sure to visit your mother for you while you're away. You know I'd like to go with you, but... I don't think Narcissa would like me there. She'd much rather her mother, I'm sure." Severus Snape, a little home-breaker -- what an amusing, if fleeting, thought.

Lucius seemed to have had the same thought, for he gave another sound that resembled not-quite-laughter. "Mother asks after you. She forgets, you know, that Father's gone, that we're as old as we are. She detests Narcissa."

"Then she'll be glad that I'll visit. It's probably best that she forgets..." He couldn't help it when he ducked his head against Lucius's, face pressing for a moment against the older boy's neck. They weren't men yet -- they were still both boys, just a little too young to be doing what they did, to see things the way they did. "It's been such a long two years now. First your father and mother, now..."

"Mmm. I suppose we have to grow up sometime, hm? I just didn't realize it would be this hard," Lucius said tiredly. "If I had known, I'm not sure I'd have thought to change anything at all."

"The harm of retrospect." One leg shifted just a little, so that Severus's knee pressed atop Lucius's thigh. "I half wish I could stay in school forever... you know the Quidditch team is suffering without you."

"Maybe if we ever manage to bring a child into this world, he'll be a good Seeker. Do you think?" Lucius asked him, not quite able to take his thoughts away from the matter at hand.

"Wonderful at it, Lucius. He'll be just as good at it as you ever were... certainly better than Rosier. The boy got himself a mouthful of turf last time he dove for it." Severus paused for a moment, then added, "And don't stress so much, Lucius -- we'll manage it."

"They say the more you fret over it, the less likely you are to be capable of conceiving. On the other hand, if I become quite drunk enough that I shan't fret, there will also be difficulties. A never-ending dilemma, I believe, Severus."

"What would... help you?" Severus asked with a bit of hesitance.

"I don't know. I don't know, Sev, and I'm too tired to think on it. Honestly..." Lucius sighed, dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. "I don't know."

Gently, carefully, Severus kissed Lucius's neck. "We'll talk more about it tomorrow. But perhaps... the next time you try, I could... help you?"

The sharp glitter of grey eyes met his own black ones in a sudden flood of... something. Something. "You'd do that?"

"Of course I would." Severus looked mock-offended, and felt it just a bit -- as if there was anything he wouldn't do for Lucius.

"All right," Lucius agreed. "Let me... I... We'll try one more time. Without her tainting you... And then, Sevvie. Then. If it still isn't working, we'll..."

"All right." The implication was enough for Severus, and he kissed his lover's neck again. "I'll still be here for you, Lucius, no matter what."

"I know. I... You know I've never felt about anyone the way I have about you, Severus," Lucius replied quietly.

"I know, Lucius. I know -- and I know that you should rest. Do you want to go to bed?" To sleep, of course -- but as long as Lucius didn't need to be sedated to reach that point, it was good for Severus.

"Yes," the blond man agreed quietly. "I think so. You're coming? You won't leave yet?"

"Tomorrow. After Narcissa has taken her potions..." Severus planted another kiss on Lucius's stretched back neck, then tugged with the hand still on his opposite shoulder. "Come." It wasn't to be sex, but skin to skin, and warm...

Back to the comfort of their first years, something Severus couldn't deny that he wanted and needed from Lucius; that Lucius probably wanted from him. Just a short bit of escape.

"All right," Lucius agreed, and with help, he rose, and they went to bed.

---

"Is everything quite all right, Severus? I assure you that any help I might offer would be freely given," Dumbledore told him seriously, looking across his desk at the black-haired boy who'd so recently arrived back at Hogwarts from Malfoy Manor.

The sallow skin around Severus's eyes were highlighted with dark circles -- he'd obviously not had a full night of sleep. "I assure you, sir, that there isn't any help to be given at the moment. I'm going to start research on a potion to help Narcissa last a full term as soon as possible; past that, no spell or charm has proven effective."

"My condolences," the old man said with a deep sigh. "Perhaps if they waited another year or two. It is often best, under those circumstances..."

"Circumstances dictate that there be an heir as soon as possible. Their blood disagrees with each other, and it will still do so five, ten, twenty years from now. Particularly for the son that they've been attempting." The fleeting grimace on Severus's cold, correcting lips said it all.

"I see..." It seemed that the old man did after all, for his fingers steepled together thoughtfully. "Again, Severus, I want to offer you my help if you ever think you need it," he said simply. "I wish I could do more."

"I don't see why you seem to think that I'm in such dire need of your help, headmaster."

The old man sighed. "I simply worry about you, Severus. I worry."

"There's no need to worry about me. I've already a guaranteed position upon leaving school, which is a great deal more than most students here can say."

"Perhaps that is just why I am more worried about you than I am about any of the others," Dumbledore replied with gentle inflection.

Severus's mouth twisted for a moment, before he uttered. "Ah. Of course -- I'm expected to go off and do something sinister, aren't I? Slytherins equalling evil and all of that rot."

"Arioch Malfoy's death in such a violent manner is actually what prompts me to worry about you," he was informed easily enough. "I shouldn't like to think of you with a white enamel mask seared onto your face, Severus, irremovable from the bones beneath."

"Uncle Arioch's death," Severus said in a very careful tone, "came about after he made a wrong decision, and then reneged on it."

"Perhaps so, Severus. Perhaps so. And he had no one to turn to when he did so, did he?" Dumbledore looked at him, blue eyes quite serious. "I want to be sure that you do."

"As much as it pains me to say, Uncle Arioch halfway deserved the fate that befell him."

"...perhaps." That seemed to be all that the man would say, quietly spoken. "That's all, Severus. I hope things improve for you."

"I'm sure they will." Just as cold-toned as he had been when he'd come in, Severus gathered his books into his bag and the papers he'd missed out on. It seemed enough of a dismissal for Severus to take and run with it.

"And if they don't..." Dumbledore said to himself once Severus had gone. "If they don't..."

He hoped Severus would come to him.

---

Lucius had barely been able to soothe Severus's nervousness down. Just one day after leaving Hogwarts, a few short days after losing the Quidditch cup to Gryffindor, just...

The black robes he wore were silken, and clung to his skin with every motion. It was like a dark caress, distracting him from the guttering firelight of the room beyond. Severus needed that distraction, before his own fear overwhelmed him.

"Trust me," Lucius had whispered, kissing his cheek with undeniable tenderness before the white enamel mask had come down over Lucius's face, framing him in a terrifying anonymity. It had only made Severus more nervous and now the soft tamp of drum from the next room was making him almost visibly queasy.

Trust Lucius. Trust his lover, his beloved, his only friend and companion... Trust Lucius, who would return to the seaside when the ceremony was over, leaving him in Malfoy Manor.

Now it was just a matter of waiting for the Lord to call him.

If only it was all over...

The soft sound of his name wasn't something audible when it came. It rang, instead, within the space of his own cranium, making the insides of his ears tickle with the force of it, his teeth grinding together at the sound. Unpleasant.

The doorway opened in front of him, but that bit of magic wasn't his own. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the firelight after being in that darkened hallway. Tom was reclining in a throne, redolently relaxed, and around him splayed a ring of kneeling black robes. It took every bit of balls that Severus had to move forward, even knowing that Lucius was one of those kneeling, and likely the one closest to Voldemort, after all.

Just one foot in front of the other, a step and a step -- each one took him closer to Voldemort, stepping through the ring to kneel in front of the throne. He could feel it when Tom's hand lightly pressed to the top of his head, pressing it back from its bowed position, and the man leaned forward to kiss him; first one cheek, then the other, then his forehead, then his mouth, a strange cross that made him shiver.

Severus looked up into his lord's brilliant green eyes, pressing down a shudder as they locked on his own eyes for a moment. It felt like those times he'd been alone with the man, touched and caressed by him, hurt by him, and it made him tense.

"Bring the iron," Tom murmured, silky inflection making Severus ache with a strange fear that almost resembled desire... almost. Fear and desire weren't so closely linked, were they?

Slowly, Severus lifted his arm for his Lord, listening halfway to the sounds of feet moving. Would Lucius bring the brand? He could hope, but when he caught sight of the person, he honestly couldn't tell; not with black robes and white mask hiding so very much.

Tom's fingers were delicate as they reached for the thing, caressing over the metal as if it didn't glow with heat; or perhaps that touch was what brought the stinging warmth to life. "Offer me your arm, Severus, of your own free will."

He stretched it out, the muscles and sinews from his Quidditch playing shifting easily beneath his skin. Firelight caught at the motion, shadowed it. Severus watched for a moment, then looked up to his Lord, arm displayed.

Heat radiated off of the thing as it came close to his skin, so close, not quite touching and still it nearly scalded him. "Do you do this of your own free will, Severus?" Oh, what a question.

"Yes, My Lord." Was it his voice that spilled those words? His throat, that felt closed off in nervousness an fear, letting those words free? It seemed so.

With the release of that affirmative, the heated metal touched his skin, screaming, aching, shrinking, burning into his flesh as Voldemort hissed soft spell words underneath the sound of Severus's agony. He couldn't recall the last time he'd screamed in such agony, couldn't quite remember the extended Crucio that had been his 'punishment' in sixth year. But the sensation was the same, only his voice stopped the very moment the brand lifted. Severus had been kneeling proudly, but now he was slumped, upright only for the hand that had closed over his wrist to hold him still.

His skin crawled around the patch of seared skin, as if trying to get away from it.

"And now, you are mine," Tom whispered, and kissed that cross onto his face again, a strange perversion of some ancient ritual. It made Severus shudder anew.

"Yes, My Lord." Severus's voice creaked out of his throat, shaken. He held still, looking up to Tom; it was hard to tamp down the fear and apprehension in his eyes, harder still not to clutch over the mark that had been seared into his arm. He didn't dare look yet, and he didn't have to, because he'd spent enough time staring at Lucius's.

"Bring his mask," Tom said, fingers gentle now upon Severus's face.

It was Lucius's hand which brought it, Severus knew, Lucius's fingers which placed the white enamel against his face, Lucius's whispered spells that molded it to fit perfectly, beautifully. Severus hated it. It felt as if it became a piece of his face, shaped perfectly so that he barely felt it there, and could see easily out of it. It blocked out Tom's touch, though, saved him from his Lord's lingering fingers, and that was a blessing.

"Welcome your new brother," Voldemort said, and his voice rang out inside of Severus's head, undoubtedly inside the heads of all the others, as well, and vast yells spilled from the men in black around them as Tom prodded Severus to stand, as Lucius helped him up from his knees.

There wasn't any hope of turning back, with the mark still crawling on his skin.

---

"My Sevvie. Not his," Lucius whispered later against the pale skin at the back of Severus's neck. His fingers were clutched possessively on Severus's upper arms, and he shook with what was undeniably a fury that his face didn't show. "MINE."

"Lucius..." Severus was tired, and it showed when he let the mask fall limply to the bed. "Lucius, I know that..."

"I hate this!" the blond hissed furiously, leaning down and biting hard at Severus's shoulder. "I should have been the one to mark you. I should have been the one to make you mine for always. Fuck!"

"It's only a mark. Nothing is changed..." Only it felt more official. Severus wasn't going to say that aloud, though. He lifted a hand to curl at the back of Lucius's head, shifting subtly away from being bit again. "Are you going to stay here for the night, or are you heading back to the seaside?"

"Stay," Lucius said, pulling him back tightly against him once more. "I'm going to stay. I'm going to remind you that you're mine..."

"I wouldn't say that I need reminding, Lucius..." Severus twisted in Lucius's constricting grip to face his lover. Grey eyes looked like they were flickering sharply -- possession and want. It had been too long for him, since they last... "I don't mind it, though."

"Good," Lucius hissed between his teeth, and his mouth came down on Severus's with a hard fervor that told of frustration, anger, paranoia, fear, things that could almost be tasted on his lips.

They were things that Severus wanted to taste on his lips. It wasn't their usual laughing sex play, but it was something -- after almost a year, Severus would take anything from Lucius, to feed his own need. "I've missed you badly, Lucius," Severus panted, when the savaging kiss broke.

"God, yes," Lucius moaned in agreement, hands working quickly, raggedly, to rid them both of clothing. "Missed you. Want you. Need you. Mine..." Mine. No words of love or adoration or gentleness, just... possession.

Severus helped the stripping, until those sleek black robes fell away from both of them. He backed himself towards the bed, pulling Lucius with him as the other's actions grew wild. "Yes, Lucius. Yes."

"On your knees!" Lucius hissed, tugging at him, pulling, fingers bruising pale skin as he shoved Severus down into the bed. A quick hiss of words lubricated the dark haired Slytherin, Lucius's thumb slipping quickly past the outer ring of muscle, forcefully.

Severus found himself following Lucius's order, barely completing it by the time that Lucius forced that on him. "Lucius, ease up! There isn't any need to go so fast," he hissed, looking over his shoulder at the blond man.

"I don't want to ease up," Lucius told him flatly, a hand shifting to shove his face back down into the pillows. "I want to take you."

Not what Severus had expected. Lucius had never done that before, never acted... so much like Tom. What a frightening thought, one that gave him the strength to rise up on his elbows. "Lucius, there isn't any need to-- FUCK!"

The heavy thrust that filled Severus shook him to the core as Lucius came over his back, a hand placed tightly atop one of Severus's wrists as he pushed deep. "Oh, GOD!" the older man gasped, shuddering against him. "Tight... shit... forgot..."

"Ohh, Merlin," Severus shuddered, head falling limply forwards. There was nothing quite like that raw scrape over sensative flesh. "Lucius, you bastard -- stop for a moment!"

"Can't," Lucius denied on a moan, pulling out and pushing back into him, the force of it deep, hard. "Can't. Fuck. Merlin.... Sevvie, I, oh, GOD!"

Severus grunted, bearing the force of that thrust, and the next, with only another grunt. It was only barely arousing to him, more pain than he liked to have in the mix. Lucius was being too much like Tom, when he'd promised, promised to never... "Unh!"

The noise couldn't be helped, not when Lucius had pulled out of him and was turning him onto his back, pushing his wrists down against the mattress. For a moment, he thought perhaps that Lucius wasn't going to hurt him anymore, but it was a useless hope, for the other man slid between his legs and pushed back into him with a strangled sound of pleasure, leaning down to kiss at Severus's throat. "Oh, Merlin, yes."

"Lucius..." More a whine than a pleasured moan, thought at least now Severus could spread his legs a little more, roll his hips up for the rub of skin to skin with his half-awake cock caught between their bodies. His hands came up to half push at Lucius's shoulders, and to half dig his fingers in.

"So... fuck... God... tight... Sevvie..." It was a hiss, felt against his cheek as Lucius took him. It stung despite the lubricant, hurt, and if he hadn't become accustomed to Tom hurting him even more, Severus knew he wouldn't be able to take it. Lucius pulled him tightly against his own chest, motions of hip and thigh becoming short, sharp, and the dark-haired man couldn't help the cry that burst from his lips.

When Lucius was done, in a burst of warm and wet inside of him, it was almost a blessing. Severus held himself still, uncaring that he was still half-hard between them. Better to let it die than try to get it up, the way his mood was. He bit at his bottom lip, half waiting in case there was more planned for him.

"Merlin..." It was a soft breath, and Lucius's face was damp against him, most likely with sweat. "I'm so sorry, Sevvie. I'm so sorry. I hurt you. You didn't... Oh, God, what have I done?"

Lucius's words in the air were almost ludicrous; Severus couldn't help his tight-sounding whisper of, "Given me a proper welcome home, it seems." His hands stayed limp where they had been resting, just on the very edges of Lucius's shoulders.

He winced when Lucius pulled out of him, laying down next to his limp body and then pulling him close. "I shouldn't have done that. God. Sev, I... I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

"I'm going to sleep, Lucius." Severus didn't bother to make that declaration not the tired sigh that it wanted to come out as. He didn't want to hear insincere apologies that wouldn't change the fact that there was one more promise laying broken, littered in their wake. Lucius had told him that he'd never do what Tom did... Severus's eyes squeezed tighter shut, and he turned his face a little to bury it against Lucius's neck.

"All right, Sevvie..." Lucius's arms tightened about him momentarily, tugging him close. "I really am sorry," he whispered, but Severus knew he didn't mean it. He knew.

That didn't stop him from pondering how things had changed so much... and he wondered just that as he laid there, feeling the ache of what Lucius had just done, and of Voldemort's mark, until he finally fell asleep.

Narcissa smiled at Severus from across the table, her head tilting to the side. She was wearing maternity clothing once again, though her belly barely bulged as yet. Mid-October seemed to agree with her, for there was color in her cheeks, and a sparkle in her eye that had been decidedly absent when he'd seen her last. "I'm glad to be home," she declared to him. She seemed somehow friendlier than before, different towards him. "I will miss my mother, of course, now that she has returned home, but hopefully..." Spread fingers shifted down, touching the little roundness above her hips.

Hopefully that child would stay where it belonged.

Severus nodded to her words, and the sentiment behind them, as he took a deep sip from his tea cup. It almost wasn't fair that Narcissa seemed so happy. He himself was in a state of merely existing, or working from day to day on whatever potions he was ordered to make or develop. Of course, he did enjoy it, and found that he could lose himself in the work with ease. If only he had work to do all of the time, all hours of the day, all days of the week...

"Perhaps this will work as it should," he agreed, voice blander than it had been months before. When she'd miscarried in May, he'd at least had hope and a strange type of optimism.

"I hope so," she agreed, giving him another smile. "I feel as though it will. Thank you," Narcissa told him, looking at him steadily. "I know we have not gotten along, and I am sorry for it. You are doing your best. Thank you."

"Well, you're getting along better with Lucius, aren't you?" As if that was the reason at all. No, he just didn't have venom for her any longer because she was 'winning' without trying.

"He seems... happier now than at first," Narcissa admitted reluctantly, twisting her wedding band on her finger as she looked at him. "He wants an heir very badly. Enough to be kind to me, I suppose."

"Mmm." Severus took another sip of his tea, and looked at her fingers twisting her wedding band. He only had another hour or so to wait with her; then Lucius would be back from Diagon Alley with the potions supplies he needed. As a matter of safety, Narcissa wasn't to be left alone. "That's good for you, then. You've adjusted well to the Manor." Particularly since he had all but removed most traces of himself downstairs to his work area on the upper floors.

"Sometimes, it is very frightening. So big and cold. I cannot imagine raising a child here," she admitted, and she swallowed, fidgeting nervously. "I can only imagine that any child would be unhappy in such an environment..."

Severus looked down to his cup as he lowered it. "Funny. When I first came here, I couldn't help but think that some day, I wanted Snape Manor to feel just like this place. It was warm, and alive..." And it still was, in places. But mostly it felt as if Lucius were trying to force a coldness onto the manor of which Voldemort would no doubt approve.

Severus hated it.

"Perhaps it will become so again one day. Children, they might brighten things, non?" Narcissa suggested hopefully.

"I think if you want this place to be bright again, you'll have to make a conscious effort to do so. I'd do it, only I'm being kept busy." There. Perhaps if he planted that thought into her head, she'd go with it.

"Perhaps I shall try," she decided. "Perhaps it would be possible to change things, to brighten, to... to do something. To make it not so cold-seeming, and it only gets worse as time passes, I think..."

"It's been this way since Arioch... died." Arioch had tended to put his family first, after all, despite Voldemort. He did things beyond that small scope... and it worried Severus that Lucius seldom did. "You were here that summer, Narcissa. You remember the place then."

"Things seemed very different, then. Lucius's parents, they loved one another. It was not... not like this," Narcissa replied. "Even his love for you seems dead. It is as if he loves nothing, cares for nothing past what HE tells him to do."

As if Severus needed the words spoken aloud, when they had been floating in his mind for months. "Lucius when I first met him... even just last year, was a completely different person than Lucius now."

"There is nothing we may do to change this, I think," she said softly, sadly, rubbing lightly now at her belly. "I believe that I will lay down for a while. Nap, perhaps."

"If you need me, I'm up in my work room," Severus told her, as he got to his feet. It was too depressing to talk to her for very long. "And Lucius will be back soon from the Alley." Whether this was actually Diagon or the more likely Knockturn, neither of them discussed.

"I will call, if I am in need," Narcissa promised, rising stiffly. "I am feeling something like..." She paused, considering for a moment. "Ah. Queasy."

Narcissa feeling anything other than well always put Severus on edge. "Are you sure it's only that...?"

"I think. It is likely only that Mother has returned home and I am lonely without her," she decided, moving towards the doorway. "That is all, I think."

"All right, Narcissa." Severus seemed to push his concern away, as he walked towards the door that led upstairs, a steep servants' stairwell. "Have a pleasant nap."

She waved a hand at him and continued on her way, leaving him to his own devices for a short time. That was all right with Severus. He'd reached the point where he was avoiding her less than he was avoiding Lucius, but things simply weren't right anywhere at all, and he was lost as to what to do.

Severus wanted his Lucius back; he wanted the frolicsome, spiteful boy he'd grown up with back; he wanted his playful, tender lover back. Sometimes, Lucius seemed almost like he had been before his marriage, before all of the complications of Voldemort -- but there was something about it that told Severus that it was only pretending.

"Sev?"

A glance at the clock showed him that he'd been in his work room for hours -- in his work room and not working, not doing anything at all, but staring at the wall and thinking. Well, no harm done in it -- he'd always been able to lose himself like that, and there was so much in his mind to get lost in. "Mm?" He turned towards Lucius a little, suddenly concerned by the other man's tone of voice.

"I was just worried. Neither of you answered my call when I came in," Lucius replied, moving gracefully up the stairs and into Severus's work room. "What are you doing?"

"I..." Staring at a wall wasn't the sanest of answers, so Severus went for the vaguer answer. "I was thinking."

That only brought a rise of blond brow whereas before Lucius would have wanted to know what he was thinking. "And Narcissa?"

"I don't know. She was going to take a nap when I last talked with her." Severus stood slowly, and moved towards one of his shelves. If he sat there, he'd only end up thinking about how he missed the days when Lucius actually gave a damn.

"Oh. I'll go and check on her, I think. Is there anything you want for dinner? I'll have Dobby make it for you, if you like. I know you've been busy lately..." Lucius paused. "Actually, I still think you haven't forgiven me for July, Sevvie."

And for every time that had followed... Severus could feel his shoulders tense visibley at the mention of it. "You've become just like Tom, Lucius."

"Don't say that." The words were almost pleading. "I'm not, Sevvie. How could I be? You know how I've always felt about you."

"And I know how you crawl out of bed before I wake up in the morning, and how you hurt me when you've promised you wouldn't, and how you've turned this manor into a colder place than my grandfather could ever manage to make Snape Manor. The air here feels like the way Tom keeps his rooms." His throat felt tight, closing around his words and choking them as they spilled out.

"So." Lucius moved forward, pausing close to him. "Everything that's wrong with you, with life in general, is my fault. Does that more or less make the sum of the thing, Severus?"

Yes.

Phrased that way, twisted the way that only Lucius could, Severus felt solidly defeated already. He leaned his forehead against the edge of one shelf, hearing vials rattle pleasantly at him as he clung to the sturdy thing. "I miss you, Lucius. And I'm tired..."

"Sevvie... Shhh..." Arms came around him, touching him, pulling him close. "I know. I know. I'll make it better somehow. I promise you..." Promises. Perhaps they meant something and perhaps they didn't. Severus honestly couldn't tell anymore.

They only meant something when Severus laid the weight of his belief on them -- if he didn't care, or pretended not to care, it didn't hurt so badly to have them broken. "I want things to be warm here again... and Narcissa does, too, Lucius," Severus whispered, letting his cousin pull him back away from his shelves.

"Then we'll make it that way. She must have what she wants, she's doing so well this time. I don't want anything to upset that..." Lucius said, kissing his temple tenderly. "She's having a nap, you said? I think I'll go check on her, just to be certain she's all right..."

Perhaps when the baby was born, he could have his Lucius back... for the moment, Severus just filed away that painfully tender gesture, and let Lucius pull away. "I'll still be down here, if I'm needed..."

"Master Lucius! Master Lucius sir!" That was Dobby's soft squeak, as he half clattered, and half rolled up the stairs.

"Dobby, what have I told you about interrupting Severus in his work room?" Lucius asked sternly.

"You is saying not to, but Dobby is having important things to tell!" the house-elf squealed.

"What's the matter, Dobby?" Severus didn't sound very concerned, as he shifted to pluck up one stoppered bottle, swirling it a little. Often, with the house elf, 'important things' were along the lines of running out of sugar for cookies.

"Is being the mistress!" Dobby gasped, shivering. "She is be laying on the bathroom floor is not looking so very good!"

"Dammit," Lucius said shortly, turning to run for the stairs.

"Fuck." Severus shoved aside that vial, then went to the other side of the room and grabbed three; moments later, he was on Lucius's heels, down one set of steps and then the next.

With any luck, they could prevent it from happening again, and if not... Severus didn't want to think about what Tom would say.

---

"But James, look. It's adorable. It's just... it's perfect for the baby's room."

That was a vaguely familiar voice, one that caught at the edges of Severus's mind. The one that followed it was definitely familiar, and definitely hated.

"Lily, that would be the third mobile so far..." It wasn't chiding, or the more familiar growl to which Severus was accustomed. Bu it was still familiar enough to distract him from his perusal of the windows of a bookstore to look over his shoulder at the couple huddled at another window across the street.

Potter. There was no question of it, the man's wild hair would give him away half a world off, Severus knew, and the auburn-haired woman at his side was smiling brilliantly... Lily Evans. He remembered her, actually -- she'd been in Slytherin in the same year as he. He wondered what on earth could have possessed a Slytherin to wed someone like Potter.

"I know," she admitted, looking up to the man. "But... I just want everything to be perfect..."

Then she shouldn't have married Potter, Severus thought fleetingly. He turned his back to them once more, staring into the bookstore. What he'd do to bury himself in books as he once had, and stayed blissfully ignorant of reality. He finally turned and entered the place, lured by their promise. There was still escape there, in books--

"It will be, honey -- trust me that it will!"

"Severus!"

So much for escaping.

"Severus, hello." Lily's voice was quiet, nicely thrumming, and she smiled at him brilliantly. "How are you? I never see anyone from school anymore aside from James's friends..."

His own smile was less than brilliant, though Severus managed to dredge one up -- by looking at Lily, and not Potter. "I've been deep in my research -- and you?" Wed, obviously, to the most outspoken, loud-mouthed fool of a Gryffindor in existence. Excepting Sirius, of course.

"Married, pregnant..." She smiled at him. "Delighted. I love babies, I want a houseful of them. You ought to have a few, Severus..." James snorted. "Oh, hush, James. Severus would make a wonderful poppa!"

Severus's lips twitched a little. Just because Lucius could manage to have a wife didn't mean that Severus could handle the same. "Ah, Lily... I fear that won't ever come about. At the moment, I'm very busy trying to see that Lucius can have a son. But congratulations on your pregnancy."

"Oh... He's having problems?" Lily asked, obvious sympathy on her face. "I'm so sorry. That's terrible."

"All things considered, who'd be surprised? The Malfoys are even more inbred than the Potters," James joked uncomfortably.

"It's not Lucius's problem," Severus growled defensively. "Narcissa has miscarried... three times now. I've been trying to come up with a potion that will let her carry the child full term."

"Oh, the poor thing. Have you taken her to see a muggle doctor? It might be just the thing," Lily suggested. "Sometimes, the neck of the womb is weak and won't hold..."

"No, no muggle doctors. Lucius wouldn't allow it. Any way, I've pinpointed that their genetics clash; it's nothing muggles could do anything for." The Malfoy heir brought into the world with muggle help? Unthinkable! Severus sighed quietly, shaking his head slightly. "Still. Best of luck in your life, Lily."

"I appreciate it, Severus," she said with a smile, leaning up to look at James, who was smiling right back at her. "Really. And I hope we'll see you again sometime."

"Yeah," James agreed dryly, though Severus knew that he meant no such thing. "Good luck in your research." Severus could practically hear the words, 'on freaks', tacked onto the end.

"Thank you. Oh -- I've been half-wondering. Just what do you Aurors do, hmn?"

"Chase down Death Eaters and take them to Azkaban," James answered quietly. "And if they don't come quietly, we kill them."

Death Eaters.

They were calling them Death Eaters?

Severus definitely wasn't spending enough time in public. It was just as well, actually; Tom had him staying with Narcissa as often as possible. Whatever his purpose was in having a Malfoy heir, it was fairly serious.

His confused expression gave away nothing of what flitted through his mind. Death Eaters. How... how silly a name. The others had probably already had their giggle over it, and now it was Severus's turn -- but that would have to wait until he returned home. "Death Eaters? I must not get out often enough, because I daresay I've never even heard of them."

"Haven't you?" James asked him threateningly. "Seems like most of them are friends of yours of old..."

"James. Not here," Lily said shakily, glancing around the bookstore.

Severus gave a bland shrug, completely unaffected by his threatening words. "My only 'friend', Potter, is Lucius Malfoy -- and he, myself and Narcissa, have been very concerned with ourselves and ourselves alone. No doubt just as you and Lily are."

"Really? I'll bet you didn't even know that Evarist Rosier died last night, then," James said smoothly. "Dressed in black robes and a white mask melted onto his face, just like Arioch Malfoy."

The shock that splashed across Severus's face announced that he hadn't known. Rosier? Oh, fuck. What could Rosier have done to displease Him? Certainly Severus did more to cross the Lord than Rosier ever had... Black eyes closed for a moment in pain. "Merlin. Murdered, then..."

"Are you quite certain that you don't know anything about it?" James asked, voice quiet.

"You can tell he didn't, James," Lily replied for Severus, her voice stern. "Leave him alone. They were friends, you know."

"Our poor Seeker... Merlin." One hand came up over his eyes, rubbing at the stress lines just beside his nose. "Fuck, Potter -- do you have to be so smug about it? Yes, some of us went off to do... whatever, but dead is dead! And Rosier... fuck, I just bought him a Christmas gift."

"I'm so sorry, Severus. I can't imagine how you didn't know, it was all over the papers..." Lily said softly. "I'm so sorry."

"I've been lost in my research..." His other hand clutched at the handles of his bag from the apothecary's, white-knuckled. Then he glared up at Potter, accusingly, "I hope you Aurors try to catch the person who did this instead of gloating over a murder."

"Sirius is looking into it, actually. He's almost as upset as you." James shrugged. "I never knew before that he got along with Rosier. Odd, but true. So yes, we are investigating. I doubt we'll catch him, though. All signs point to it being Voldemort." That brought a soft hiss from somewhere nearby, and James rolled his eyes. "You Know Who. That's really bloody ridiculous..."

"It's always better to use the real name -- it takes away some of the fear..." Severus sighed, finally getting himself in motion. "Well, Merry Christmas to you, Lily. Good luck with your child."

"Thank you, Severus," she said quietly. "Good luck to you in helping Lucius and Narcissa. Everyone deserves the joy of a child."

She might not have phrased it just that way if she'd had any inkling of what the boy's fate was slated to be, but Severus only thought of that for a flit of a moment before he nodded, and then simply walked away from them, back down the street.

Best to return Rosier's gift because no one else had a use for it. Lucius had always hated the scent of dragon's blood, after all.

---

Life in a bottle. The idea amused Severus greatly, as he gently swirled the vial to reactivate the dorment potion. Flecks of purple swirled amidst the most perfect shade of teal that he'd ever seen.

He'd managed to do it.

Finally.

It almost hurt to look at it, such flawlessness in a vial. A child. The creation of a child. This potion would manage that, and it would make sure that Narcissa carried to term once the child was conceived with the proper spells spoken.

Severus almost stumbled when he flung open the door at the bottom of the stairs. It was dinnertime, but he'd missed it again because he'd been on the cusp of the discovery he held in his hands. Likely the only reason he still had any meat on his body at all was because Narcissa and occasionally Lucius brought him food.

"Lucius! Narcissa..." He strode into the dining room, beaming at them both as he continued to clutch the vial in his fingers.

"Severus. You've missed dinner again," Lucius said smoothly before he noticed the vial. "What have you got?" he asked curiously.

"Guess," he whispered, still swirling its mixing colors ever so carefully. There was a smug, triumphant air about him, as he continued to linger in the doorway. "We've twelve hours."

Lucius was immediately up out of his chair, hurrying to Narcissa. "Come, love," he urged, taking her elbow. "Severus has managed a miracle. This time, it will work."

"Are you certain?" Narcissa asked him even as she was hurried towards the hallway.

"Of course I'm certain." He let them fall into pace with him, flicking hair out of his line of sight with an idle hand. "It's perfect. It's passed all of the tests..."

"Let me see," Lucius requested imperiously, looking at him.

"No," Narcissa told him thoughtfully, sharp blue gaze looking at Severus. "He should come with us, I think. Yes..."

"I'm not sure... come with you?" Lucius had suggested just that the previous May, but that had been then. Things had been different.

Lucius was nodding, though, agreement to Narcissa's suggestion. "Come with us," he agreed simply, quietly, watching Severus closely.

Hesitance, but not disagreement or rebuke -- Severus nodded shakily, fingers still toying with the precious vial. "All right. You both have to drink this for it to work..."

"Yes," Narcissa agreed as they moved towards the stairs again. "It will work this time. It will... I can't bear it if it doesn't work again..."

"Don't even think it," Lucius told her as they all hurried to the second floor, quickly, quietly. "Don't contemplate it."

"It will work," Severus promised. "It will -- I know it. This potion is entirely of my creation, with no one else's 'notes' to fuck it up. Trust me, Narcissa, that this will function." Because it had to work.

"I trust you," Narcissa decided, nodding slowly as they paused at her bedroom door. "I do."

Severus looked at Lucius, as if for assurance, as he unstoppered the bottle and held it towards Lucius first. "Drink two sips. Then give it to Narcissa. I'll have to weave the spells, but..."

Wordlessly, his cousin took the vial, fingers closing on it almost tenderly and raising it to his lips where he obeyed Severus, swallowing twice with care before handing it to his wife.

"The taste isn't so pleasant, I know, but..." Severus still felt smug, despite the way Lucius's lips curled at the lingering aftertaste. He slid his wand out of his sleeve, fingers twitching it idly. "But it's going to work."

"If it doesn't, we're all better off poisoning ourselves than ending up like Rosier," Lucius told him as Narcissa swallowed down the rest, face twisting at the taste of the stuff.

"Ugh. That was just awful. I won't ask what's in it," she said, shuddering.

"That's good. Because you don't want to know..." Severus touched both of them with his hands, goading them into the bedroom. "Just let me cast the spell, and we won't have to think about poisoning ourselves..."

They waited tensely as whispered words washed over both of them, Narcissa's eyes closed as Severus's magic wrapped slowly over skin and sinew and bone, infiltrating down to the very core of her being and Lucius's, teasing at them. "Oh..." she whispered, shuddering. "Oh."

It lasted for long minutes, as Severus wove the spell in the air around them both -- and then finally pulled the threads together to bind them closer for the time that the potion needed. The pull was tangible for him, having tasted of the potion but not included himself in the spell. It left him yearning when he finished weaving it, and then waved one hand at them both. "Now."

Delicious permission and they moved at once, melding into a single pale entity made up of mouth and hands and a desperate need that could be felt even standing feet away from them. "Yes..." That was Narcissa, he thought, or perhaps it was Lucius; he couldn't tell, not when they were so close, and so tightly controlled by his spell and his potion.

There was minor adjustments to be made when they stripped off; minor shifts in the magic to control, so Severus knew his work wasn't done. Moving carefully, he slumped down in a chair diagonal from the bed, and across from the couple -- small wonder if they ever made it to the bed, and a much larger one if they remembered he was there.

Lucius's hands caressed over her flesh with the same tenderness he had once granted Severus, and it momentarily made the black-haired man desperately jealous that Lucius would grant someone else what belonged to him. That, too, was part of the spell, though, he knew. He had cast it -- no one knew better than he did.

It still made his teeth ache as he ground them together fitfully.

It was hard to concentrate, harder still to watch for those nuances that he needed to see to keep casting the spell. But his teeth ached, and a knot set itself firmly in his chest as he watched Lucius's fingers tease at her so tenderly, worshipping her. The knot in his chest grew exhaustively, even as he re-tightened the spell.

When his name came, it was from her lips that it fell, and not his. "Severus..." A pale hand reached for him in invitation, her blue eyes on him, Lucius's turning towards him, molten silver and gleaming.

"Come." That was invitation from Lucius, too, and it was more than he could possibly refuse. It still seemed almost an afterthought on Lucius's behalf, but he was too caught in it to say 'no'. The spell was tight enough, with minor tweaks that didn't need a wand to direct.

He didn't expect to be so easily accepted into the mesh -- to find Lucius's lips so willing, and Narcissa so warm. Her arms wrapped around him just as easily as they had Lucius, and before he knew it, they'd managed to redirect themselves to the bed after all, tangled arm in arm in leg, and Narcissa almost laughed as her back hit the mattress.

"Nnn, mon cher..." It was a breathy sigh, and for a moment Severus wasn't sure what had caused it. A glance revealed Lucius's hand between her thighs and teasing at her even as the blond man leaned forward to kiss Severus.

He pointedly didn't think about it, as he leaned nearer to kiss Lucius deeply. One arm was caught around Narcissa's back, the other looped around Lucius's hips. He shifted that one to stroke at his lover's cock with practiced skill that he hadn't been allowed to use in too long.

"Oh, yes, Sevvie..." It was a loud groan, an approval that spilled easily from Lucius's lips. The man had always appreciated being touched the way only Severus had seemed to know how, and for a moment, he wondered if Narcissa did as well. The woman didn't shift, though, didn't move to touch Lucius, almost as if she was forbidden to do so. Perhaps she had been, he supposed, but she seemed to have no qualms about touching him, for her hand slid down his arm and over his chest, nails lightly scratching across pert nipples.

Just a tease, just sensation that Lucius had often given him... Severus closed his eyes, broke the kiss, and started to kiss at Lucius's neck, shoulders, wherever he could reach. It halfway muffled the moans Narcissa was drawing from him.

"Feels so good," Narcissa sighed, and Lucius let out a sound that might have been agreement, or might have been anything. He moved up then, sliding close, and slipped between her legs. It seemed fast to Severus, but perhaps it was always this way with them, quick as possible.

When Lucius started to move, Severus shifted a little to press against Lucius's side, to kiss at his neck better. Daring fingers slipped behind the man, down the smooth curve of his ass, to dip against a familiar hole. "Lucius..."

"Merlin, yes..." That was tacit permission, hissed in a throaty moan as Severus's lover slid into the woman beneath them, pushing deep and drawing a sound from her that was just as full of need as any either of them had ever given.

Tacit permission was all that Severus needed to shift fully behind Lucius, fingers spell dampened as they delved into that slim hole. "My Lucius... I want you, yes..." And he was going to have him as he hadn't in altogether too long.

Narcissa cried out when Lucius came fully into her, and Severus felt her arms and legs come up around her husband, reaching for Severus, too. Fingers stroked lightly over his shoulders, stroked his face, and pulled him down closer, down closer, tight against Lucius's back. It took him only a moment to press his cock where his fingers had been, to slide in with care despite the haze of want. Severus was still that considerate, magnanimous enough to delve long fingered hands between Lucius's body and Narcissa, to touch the place where they were joined.

"Fuck," Lucius gasped, shuddering between them. "Fuck. Fuck. Yes!"

Severus couldn't even grasp at what it must've felt like, to be caught between them. It was more than enough pleasure to be buried deep in Lucius, fucking him after so long. "Yes... oh, Lucius, mine..."

"Yours." It was agreement in a moan, and he felt the other man pull back from Narcissa, ass pushing hard back onto Severus's cock. "Oh, God. Feels so--"

"Good," Narcissa purred, arching up to meet him as he came back down. "Feels so good..."

It was a faintly jerking rhythm that they fell into, bodies rolling together. Severus strained not to move too fast, not to press the pace too far. His fingers dipped and delved, stroking over Lucius's flesh on the withdraw, getting sticky and damp, slick with fluid. Beneath them, Narcissa writhed, the look on her face screaming her pleasure, enjoyment that seemed somehow intensified by the fact that they were fucking above her.

"YES!" It was a gasped affirmative, and Severus could feel her hips jerking up tightly to Lucius even as the man between them groaned and bit down on her shoulder, shoving hard and deep.

Severus's poor hand was crushed between their bodies, but he didn't care. The ripple and clutch of Lucius around him was the last thing he needed to lose himself in his lover's heat. "Luc-ius..." His breath caught in his chest, as the tension roiled out of him.

After a time, Narcissa sighed deeply. "Do you think it worked? Mmmm, if it didn't, does that mean we can do this again?"

"I think it worked," Severus murmured, pressing sweet, sated kisses to the back of Lucius's neck. "I'm sure it did..." A test of the magic, and he felt that it had all unwound -- to center just in the pit of Narcissa's belly. Perfect.

"Magnificent," Lucius sighed, leaning down and kissing his wife fervently, his own hand nestling lightly between them, caressing over the firmness of her white belly. "And a boy. Tell me it's a boy..."

"Of course it is." That was part of the spell, after all -- because a girl made for a poor heir, and was just as likely to have them all put in worse shape than Rosier.

Another kiss for Narcissa, and then one for Severus, as well. "My splendid, brilliant Sevvie. I knew you could do it. We'll have children, an heir, a child for Him...."

Severus shuddered as he kissed Lucius, curling close. "Try not to remind me of that last part, Lucius..."

"It won't be so bad as all that, Sevvie..." Lucius denied.

"You only think that because you have not gone to Him," Narcissa said darkly. "He is not kind, Lucius. I don't want to give up my children to Him..."

"You'll give up the child he wants and you'll do it freely," Lucius informed her, voice hard.

"Let's not discuss this now." Severus's voice came out slightly harder than Lucius's voice had. It startled him a little, and as if to make up for it he snugged closer to Lucius. "Let's just sleep. Please. I've been working on that for over a day now..."

"And what Sevvie wants, Sevvie will get," Lucius said, though there was something hard beneath the sound of it, almost angry. It lent for a mocking effect, that made Severus pulled away from Lucius unhappily.

"Never mind, then," he whispered. Merlin, but that was almost fitting thanks for all the work that he'd done. Months of research, dozens and dozens of failed attempts, almost two days of working over a cauldron to get the blasted thing just right -- and a sneering comment for thanks. "Never mind."

It all seemed somehow worse when it was Narcissa's hand which came to soothe him, stroking his back slowly. He could see understanding gleaming up at him past Lucius's white-blond hair, the sad smile that crossed her lips putting them together somehow, making them the same, and he hated it.

He drew away from them both, standing up. He wanted to linger, wanted to feel Lucius... but it hurt now, hurt too much to stay there. Severus went about the easy task of picking up his clothes. When they were wadded up under his arm -- because why waste the time of putting them on? -- he glanced to the bed again. "Good night."

"Come back to bed, Sevvie," Lucius sighed, shifting to the side of Narcissa. "I didn't mean it that way."

It took Lucius long enough to come to that decision, hadn't it? "No," Severus murmured softly, tiredly, "I think you did. My apologies for having an opinion -- I'll see you at breakfast." Unless he could find something else to do.

Narcissa watched the dark-haired young man as he left. "You know," she told Lucius softly, "it is no one's fault but your own that you are denying him. No one else's."

Lucius made a noncommittal noise, fingers curling lightly over her stomach. "It's my concern, not yours. Yours is here."

"You should at least try to be nicer, though," Narcissa insisted, brows knit. "What he can give, he can undoubtedly take away again, and it would be your own fault, then."

Lucius only shrugged a little, and settled down to sleep. He would have to think on it...

---

It was almost a week later before Lucius laid eyes on Severus again, and even then it required the help of no less than three house elves, two ghosts, and several hidden charms.

"You've been hiding from me, cousin," Lucius chided him gently, blocking the way out of the room by taking up most of the doorway with his body.

Severus hadn't expected to be found. He'd carefully spelled a room of the house to vaguely 'detach' from the rest of the house, so he could work in peace. It was good for both of them that he wasn't working on any potion when Lucius startled him so badly. He turned on his chair a little, looking back at Lucius's too familiar, looming figure. "And?"

"And," Lucius said, "I thought now would be a very good time to beg forgiveness for being such an unbearable ass. I'm miserable without you, Sevvie, and I'm sorry."

"You just want me to do something for you," Severus accused softly, turning quickly back to looking at his work-table. "You've got your heir now -- and Lucius gets what Lucius wants, doesn't he?"

"Sevvie, I don't want anything. I swear to you. Nothing," Lucius responded quietly. "Have you always felt that way about me?"

"Of course not. But bloody hell, Lucius, that's all I've seen from you since, since you and Narcissa went off to the seaside; since I've gotten out of school; since I had the Mark put on my arm." He couldn't look back at his cousin. To look at Lucius was to be lost in him, and to lose his resolve.

"I've been under a lot of stress, Sevvie. You should know that, you have, too. It's just..." Lucius paused, heaved a great sigh, moved forward. "It's just been so much, really. He has so many expectations and you... He has always wanted you. If I can provide Him with a child, then maybe I can have you back from Him..."

"He hasn't gotten near me since Halloween, Lucius, and you know that, unless it's to have me make something or other. Which are the exact same reasons I've seen you for the past... well, since before then." In the long run, he knew he sounded petty -- but tired, and unloved in the face of Lucius's claims to the contrary. "You've been steadily working to become Him."

"Actually, I didn't know he hasn't been near you. He... He said He had. That you see Him, and..." Lucius scowled. "Well. That's neither here nor there. Don't you want power, Sevvie? I mean, real Power. The kind of Power He has?"

"Having that for a goal isn't an excuse to act exactly like Him," Severus pointed out. He turned a little, to look at Lucius's familiar face. He missed... "Merlin, Lucius -- be your own person again!"

His cousin drew a deep sigh, head tilting back. "All right," he said simply. "All right, Sevvie. I'll try."

Trying, Severus supposed, was better than not trying at all. He stood up, brushing off the front of his robes. "Will you?"

"For you," Lucius agreed quietly, simply. "I miss you, Sevvie. And I know I've been awful to you. I just... I can't seem to stop myself."

"Please stop yourself," Severus murmured, moving closer to Lucius. He lifted fingers to touch Lucius' cheek, stroking softly there. "Please. It hurts all of us..."

"Sevvie..." Lucius's arms raised, pulling him close, face burying in Severus's throat, nudging aside hair slightly damp with sweat and oil from where he'd been working not so long ago. "I want to. I never wanted to hurt you..."

Then why had he? Severus sighed tensely, bringing his arms up to hold Lucius in turn. Safety... still, he felt oddly safe in Lucius's grasp, comforted by the familiarity. "You can trust me to not... interfere with your heir, Lucius."

"I know." It was quiet reassurance, his cousin pressing Severus's dark head down against Lucius's shoulder, lips lightly caressing the pulse at his throat. "I know, Sevvie. I'm sorry, you know. I am. For everything. And you know I never apologize."

"Your father wasn't very apologetic, either... must be a Malfoy trait." Better to show things in actions than words. "I've missed you. And hated hiding like this, but..."

"But I've been awful to you," Lucius said quietly, nuzzling at an ear. "Come up to my rooms, Sev. We'll take a shower together, wash your hair... What have you been doing to it, Sevvie?"

"Nothing at all. These rooms get humid when I'm brewing the... things He asks me to make." Nuzzling at his ear was a weak-spot, and Lucius knew that damn well -- Severus's feet started to move before his mind even told them to.

"Come upstairs with me, then," Lucius invited him on a whisper. "Come up, Sevvie..."

"Can I stay the night...?" Was he sleeping with Narcissa, or not? Was it safe to stay there, and would Lucius hold his old promise once more?

"Yes," Lucius assured him, nuzzling at his ear once more. "I've missed you, Sevvie. Missed having you, holding you, touching you. I want you to stay. I want you to stay every night, if you will..."

Severus walked them both out into the hallway, and slammed the door behind him in his eagerness. "Of course I will."

"Good," Lucius purred and took him by the hand. "Come now. Come..."

Side by side, hand in hand once more. Severus had almost forgotten how normal it seemed.

The mask swallowed everything, he liked to think. Reality itself was twisted when the mask slid down, anchored only by the dull ache that pulsed inside the bend of his elbow. It swallowed up guilt, responsibility, and all choice.

Only his hands weren't covered, but one was fisted around a knife, fingers twitching around the handle as he ducked his head to slip in through the doorway of the muggles' house.

He hadn't questioned any of Tom's orders; he'd learned better, over the handful of years since that summer he'd spent with the man. Still, he didn't understand the point of torturing muggles, not the way that Lucius seemed to comprehend it, even enjoy it. It didn't seem to matter to most of them whether they even knew anything about the muggles in question, so long as they were killed violently, painfully, bloodily. It was disturbing on a high level to know that a man who had held one close only an hour before could kill a human being with such ease.

It was to send a message, he was told and he followed unquestioningly. But to revel in it...

"Lumos," he hissed, holding his wand aloft as he stood just inside the door, guarding it as the other four filed in... Lucius, Parkinson, Avery and Him.

"Upstairs." Tom's voice echoed in their heads. It made Severus's eardrums itch and tickle, the urge to reach up and rub at his ear in reaction difficult to fight. Instead, he followed Lucius towards the stairs, knowing that was where he would be wanted.

Lucius chose the door at the end, and stood outside of it with Severus, while Avery set off the fire alarm that would stir the muggles from their bed. Why not use their technology against them?

The sound of the steadily beeping alarm obviously wakened the male of the muggles, because they could hear him cursing and rising, stumbling slightly in his sleepiness. "Damned thing, is it...?"

"Daddy?" That was a child's voice from somewhere behind them, and it sent chills down Severus's spine.

Severus wasn't sure when he'd gained his vague morals. He still did things out of purest selfishness, his own wants and needs, still didn't care about the outcomes of most of his actions. But to kill a child, muggle or not...? The boy was too young for them to know for sure that it wasn't a wizard, a mudblood. It was impossible for them to tell, though as Severus reached for the child with an ungloved hand, he thought that he felt a tiny thread of power.

"Shhh."

The terror on the little boy's face was growing as he looked UP, vibrant green eyes glimmering with utter fear as he saw the white mask hiding Severus's face. "DADDY!!!!!" he screamed, and it set the lot of them into motion, Lucius diving forward, hooked knife in hand, and slamming it into the child's belly as the others took care of the man and his wife.

Lucius's stab wasn't clean, wasn't directed -- it only drew a scream of agony from the little boy. The scream died in the air when Severus slipped near, and drew his own straight blade quickly across the boy's throat.

Mercy, however twisted, granted.

"What was that for!?" Lucius hissed before turning his attention to the others, taking his knife with him.

It was sickening, utterly gory to watch them. They were raveners, and suddenly the term Death Eaters came back to Severus, nauseatingly so. He could hear flesh rended by knives, see the blood smearing across the white masks, and he knew that it was going to make him sick.

It wasn't simply animals, or people who had it coming. Merlin help them all... He half-held the boy's limp body in his arms, looking morbidly down at the child. It was better to do that than look at what was making the squelching noises.

He stayed that way for a long time, tenderly cradling the remains of the child in his lap until all of the noises faded away into silence, leaving only him and dark robes that pressed in close and tight.

"Severus." That was Tom's voice, slightly accusatory. "This was meant to draw you deeper into the fold, not to leave you holding some worthless piece of filth."

"I felt magic on him..." His voice felt drifting and lost to his own ears, and he hadn't yet lifted his head to look at Tom. One hand was idly rubbing over the wet blood on the boy's neck, until it had started to dry and curl, like dirt rubbed between fingertips would.

"He was just a mudblood, Severus, if that. A warning to his older brother," Tom said coolly. "Now, get up and come on. We're done here."

The body was colder now, as Severus let it roll from his grasp, before he stood up. The blood clung to him, had seeped into his fine robe. Poor child... "Who was his brother?"

"That's nothing for you to worry over," Tom told him with an exquisite edge in his voice. "Lucius."

"Yes, Master?"

"Take care of your cousin's curiosity," Lord Voldemort purred.

Take care... Severus stiffened a little, even as he drew himself to his feet, and gave up the endeavor of spelling his knife clean. "I don't think that's necessary, my Lord."

"I'm afraid it is, Severus," Voldemort murmured, and that was when Lucius's spell hit him.

"Crucio."

Severus collapsed as limply as the body he'd just let fall from his grasp. Everything, blessedly, fled from his mind as the pain crashed down on him. It wasn't as bad as the first time he'd suffered Cruciatus. There was still enough sense in his mind to try to scrabble to his feet, half-trying to escape the spell.

"Petrificus Totalus. Silencio."

Hissed in Tom's voice, it echoed in Severus's ears, his screams silenced by spell. He could feel the reluctance behind Lucius's spell, he thought, he thought, or perhaps he only hoped. Hoped it for all the time longer that he remained coherent enough to do so -- before his stiff-limbed, frozen, silent pain overwhelmed him. The mask, surely, hid the frozen contortions of his face, the scream caught still on his lips. It went on forever and ever and he thought it would never end, the way it had done before, knives shivering down his nerves and nicking them viciously. So much. Too much...

When it was over, they were all gone save Lucius, who remained beside him, gently stroking his back. "I'm sorry."

"Merlin... oh, Merlin..." Severus was twitching, and his voice trailed into cries as he curled in on himself. The spell was gone but the pain still spasmed through him, playing with muscles tight, loose, tight, loose, until he was sure that if there was anything in his body, it was gone by then. "Take... home, please..."

"Home," Lucius promised him, wrapping his arms tightly around Severus. A wave of his wand, a word, and they were gone, Disapparating back to Malfoy Manor.

---

He had a week in which he was free to either disappear from the face of the earth, continue to work on his potions, or... do something.

Merlin help him if he was caught. It was hard to do anything from the inside walls of Azkaban, or while dead. Thinking of that shot a shiver up his spine as he pulled his cloak closer. Severus wanted to damn the air itself for daring to bite so coldly at him -- and damn himself for sneaking onto the grounds through the Forbidden Forest.

He'd always been terrified of the place; he knew that werewolves roamed the moonlit nights, when they came, and he knew that there were things hidden there which could tear a grown man to pieces. Still, it was difficult to get into Hogwarts, even more so to get into Hogwarts unseen.

He had a potion that gave him half an hour, though, and when that failed he had darkness and previous knowledge of the school itself to guide him. Severus was glad to leave the forest behind him but clung to the outskirts of the school when he came upon the clearing. Hagrid was shuffling about in his hut, but Severus paid it little mind, and kept sneaking past. It was easy to slip through the wide front doors, just as simple to walk up the moving staircases in search of Dumbledore's office. It wasn't quite as easy to figure out the password, unfortunately.

"Lemon drops? Everlasting Gobstoppers? Drooble's Best Blowing Gum? Chocolate Frogs?"

"Actually, I'm rather fond of Baby Ruth, at the moment," a voice said from behind him, and the stone statue guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office moved.

Severus swore when he startled, and half-turned to look at the headmaster. The potion had worn off already -- not a moment longer than he'd guessed it would be. His face was still hidden away behind the layers of his cloak, though he was keeping it clutched closed with a hand at his neck. For a moment, looking at the damnable man, he had to wonder why he'd come in the first place.

"I've come to talk with you."

"Why don't we go upstairs to my office, then, Severus," the old man said agreeably, nodding to him and lifting a hand to indicate the way.

Severus led the way up the stairs, to find the door already open and waiting for him. He slipped inside, and looked around half-suspiciously, half-distractedly. The room looked much the same as it always had -- only Fawkes looked piteous perched on his stand near the desk.

"I'm afraid he's due to immolate at any time. Do forgive his appearance," Dumbledore murmured, "and my lateness. I have no idea how long you were there, as I've only just arrived from the home of the Potters. Lily has given birth to a son."

"I haven't been waiting long," Severus murmured after a moment. He reluctantly lowered the hood of his cloak, glancing at Dumbledore with tired eyes as the headmaster slid behind his desk to sit. "I hope her child is well."

"A squalling eight pound three ounce boy. Very well, indeed," Dumbledore replied. "I most sincerely wish them well. And I most sincerely wish to know what I can do to help you, Severus." There seemed to be no question that Severus might be in need of help.

"I don't know at this point if there is anything that could help me..." He lingered near a chair, looking as if he didn't want to sit down. It could be a trap, after all, and at any moment Aurors could sweep in to murder him.

"There are no Aurors here, Severus. No Ministry, no punishment. I promised you once that if ever you needed me, I would be available to you." It was said quietly, earnestly. "If you will tell me what you need, I will do my best to help you, even if you feel I haven't always done so... and even if perhaps you're right."

Perhaps. That was as close as Dumbledore would get to forthrightly admitting he was wrong, of course. "I'm serving the man who cast the Cruciatus on me after uncle Arioch was killed."

The Headmaster of Hogwarts nodded slowly. "'I am Lord Voldemort'," he quoted softly, looking directly at Severus. "One Thomas Marvolo Riddle, though he doesn't want anyone to know that."

"I know Him as Tom." Severus's voice, as he murmured that, was full of wear -- ragged, tearing edges, tiredness. "I know a great deal about Tom."

"I was afraid you might," the old man said sadly. "Severus, you're in a great deal of danger. I'm sure you know that. And after the deaths of Evarist Rosier and Arioch Malfoy, I'm sure you understand how much you're risking by coming to me. What I need to know is why and exactly what you hope I can do."

"I can't... I can't live the way that I am living right now." He had to pick the words carefully, even then, for the sake of his own sanity. Severus wasn't sure yet, after all, if it was a safe endeavor that he was undertaking. "I worry for myself, for Lucius, for Narcissa and the child she'll have..."

"Do you want to follow Tom, Severus?" Dumbledore asked him quietly.

"Not... any longer. I haven't wanted to since... shortly after my fourth year. I spent a few weeks that summer with Him." His fingers, nervous, moving, finally knotted together in front of him, wringing themselves. "He's powerful... and I haven't had a choice."

"And your cousin? You're worried about he and his wife, as well." That came without question. "Severus, you give so much of yourself..." Dumbledore sighed. "You want to leave him. I presume that you are a Death Eater -- Marked as his."

"I've served Him reluctantly. Lucius's son is to replace me in my current duties..." His voice twisted a bit with that, even as Severus relaxed his fingers. He could do it, just slide his hand up his sleeve and push away the fabric from his sun hidden sallow pallor. After a moment of warring with himself, he revealed the mark to the man before him, sleeve pressed up to just over the bend of his elbow. "Lucius is fully under His sway."

The Headmaster drew a deep breath and looked at him for a moment quietly. "Do you want to leave him, Severus? Or do you want to help defeat him?"

"Both. I can't stay any longer, I can't... but I have to." For Lucius. For his Lucius, what was left of his Lucius, and what they had been.

"If you will spy for me, when the time comes, I will make certain that no harm comes to you. It will be known that you have been my accomplice in defeating Voldemort all along, Severus, and if we can, we will also save Lucius for you. I understand what he means to you," Dumbledore offered.

"Spy...?" On what? How? Severus let his sleeve slip down again, and his fingers knotted themselves in front of him once more. "I don't know... what I can do to help that. I only make potions for Him, and..." The edges of his mouth curled bitterly for a moment. "Pleasure him occasionally."

There was no censure in those serious blue eyes. "No, but Lucius is perhaps more knowledgeable and might reveal something at some point which would be important... and I don't doubt your abilities to get close to him if necessary, Severus. You have always been one of the best and brightest students to pass through these hallowed halls. I don't like the thought of asking you to do this..."

"You're asking me to get closer to Tom for the... whatever you need to learn?" That would mean pretending to enjoy what they did, and so many thing that he just wanted to escape. He wanted to escape it all, had come there to ask for help to do that, but now where did Severus find himself? Tangled all the deeper?

"You can tell me no, Severus. I will still do my best to find a way for you to be safe. I must ask, however, for the safety of all may very well lay in having a word of warning at the appropriate moment," Dumbledore replied.

"A word of warning none of us were ever given benefit of." Acid flicked from his tongue, and Severus couldn't bring himself to regret his tone. "I'd have to get closer to Him.... which is just what I'm trying to put an end to."

"I know," Dumbledore said quietly. "And I will not blame you if you tell me no."

Black on black eyes closed tightly, edges with lines of exhaustion and stress. "Could you do what you're asking of me?"

"No," the old man admitted. "I could not. But then, very few are as strong as you, Severus."

Strong? Was that what he was, to be standing there, fidgeting, exhausted, frightened, in the office of someone that he had, for a long time, intensely hated? It didn't seem like strength. It felt as if it was weakness incarnate. "Flattery has never convinced me of anything."

The old man chuckled softly. "No, it never has, but fact in this case is not flattery, Severus. It's true. We need someone like you desperately."

"And what will become of me if...?"

"I will make certain, no matter what, that you will be rescued or able to leave without any harm coming to you."

"And Lucius?"

"If it is at all possible to save him, yes. For you."

Severus gave a tired nod of his head, and started to pull the hood of his cloak back over his head. "He's under the Imperius so often that I can't tell him from Tom any longer."

"That will help, then, later. If we can defeat him, I will make certain that it is known that Lucius has been under Imperius. Perhaps others have been as well," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

"Some of us are there out of fear. Like Narcissa. Her younger sister... has been in my position." It was better, Severus realized, to hide under his hood when he spoke of the matter. It made the words flow easier.

"But not all of you," Dumbledore murmured. "Some of you, Severus, surely enjoy the matter. The remains left behind by the Death Eaters..." He paused. "They even kill children. Children with magic in them."

"Mudbloods." Severus shuddered at the memory, trusting his cloak to hide most of it. "Sometimes a quick death is better than a longer one."

"Sometimes. But would they be dying at all if not for the knives of your compatriots? That is, indeed, the question, Severus. And what makes any of us so much better than them?"

"I don't know. What breeds contempt for them? Their arrogance, and how everything is stacked for them from the start." Severus swallowed, head tilted down a little to look at his own hands. "Tell me that you wouldn't cut a throat if it would save a child from being slowly rendered limb from limb."

"I can't tell you that, Severus, because I would. As would you," the Headmaster replied gently. "You don't have to give me an answer tonight. If you need time to think, then you have it."

"There's nowhere else to go for help, is there? So there isn't any point in me thinking it over. I'm going to end up like Rosier if this keeps up..."

Dumbledore stood and moved quietly to sit before the fireplace, beckoning Severus to join him as he poured tea for both of them. "That being the case," the man said, "I would also like it if you would return here as a safety measure, Severus. I find that I am lacking a Potions professor at the moment and I believe that you would more than adequately fill the role..."

"Now," Severus asked after a moment, "or once my spying is finished?" He hesitated to follow, but did after lingering for a moment more of standing in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"Now and after," the Headmaster said, holding a cup of tea out to him. "Do sit, Severus. You make me nervous, hovering so."

Severus took the tea, first, then slid to sit down across from the Headmaster. "And how would I explain my actions to Lucius and Tom?"

"Why, you are coming to Hogwarts to spy on me, I do believe, Severus," the old man said almost primly, and if he hadn't been so nervous, Severus might well have laughed. "It would be an excellent position from which to do so."

"I can't decide if it makes me a triple crosser, or a double crosser," Severus sighed a bit morbidly, as he took a sip from his cup. The tea was warm but not too hot, orange-flavored and very sweet. He almost missed the sweet teas that the house-elves brewed at the school.

"It would make you an individual of great value, to phrase the matter quite simply," he was told, and the old man seemed amused at his enjoyment of the tea. "Would you like some to take home with you?"

"If I could. Narcissa has been looking for a new sort of tea, and I can replicate the recipe of it for her." A much simpler topic for them both, than what he was plotting on doing, wasn't it? He'd end up just like Uncle Arioch, just like Rosier... but he could pretend that he wasn't going to die that way. That was something.

"Severus. I will find a way to protect you," Dumbledore promised him quietly.

"Pardon me if I still have trouble believing that." His lean fingers shifted on the cup, cradling it nearer.

The old man's smile was familiar, warm, and Severus hadn't realized just how desperately he had missed it. "You will," he said simply, nodding. "Very soon. You will."

There at least weren't fangs behind that smile. There at least wasn't a knife, or a threat, or a crucio...

If he was going to be used, at least it wasn't going to hurt.

---

Two weeks later, an owl swooped into the dining room, and deposited a letter dead in the center of the table. Severus wasn't there when it arrived for him.

"Was Severus expecting something?" Lucius asked his wife, pausing with his teacup only centimeters away from his lips. Breakfast was mostly eaten, but Severus was brewing something for Tom and was likely eating in his work room.

"I think so," Narcissa smiled. But only after she'd chewed her jam-smeared toast. "He seemed anxious about it."

"I wonder what it is..." Curiosity was an emotion Lucius had rarely been forced to deny, and it was rather overwhelming to him at the moment. From whom could Severus be expecting mail? There was no one of whom he knew, at least. "Do you think we should open it?"

"I can't see the harm of it." After all, Narcissa knew very well that Severus kept no secrets.

That decided, Lucius reached over and lifted the envelope from Severus's place, brows rising. "It's got the Hogwarts crest upon it. What could he have been expecting from there?" he wondered, slitting it open quickly with a letter opener that appeared with a single word from him.

The letter within was very simple, and pointed. "Your application for Professor of Potions has been thoroughly researched, and accepted. You, Severus Snape, are expected to arrive at Hogwarts a week before classes resume, with the following supplies:

Professional Robes Your own quills Any personal items, clothing, books Personal copies of each of the basic potions text books Your own cauldron

Thank you very much for applying for this position. Sincerely Headmaster Albus J. Dumbledore."

"What's this all about?" Lucius asked, frowning darkly. "He's applied to be Potions master at Hogwarts!? Why didn't he say anything!"

"I didn't know, either!" Narcissa said, eyes widening a little as she leaned slightly, as if to look at the paper from her side of the table. "He's applied and been accepted!"

"I'll go down and speak with him," Lucius said with a frown, rising and leaning momentarily to kiss Narcissa's forehead as he passed her. "Don't fret about anything," he told her, suddenly very aware that she was nearly five months pregnant.

"I won't," she promised softly, twisting ever so slightly to look at him as he passed by and then into the hallway.

It didn't take him long to reach the door that led up to Severus's work area, and once he was there, Severus was predictably enthralled in his work.

"Severus..." Lucius's voice was as severe as his cousin's name. "There's been a letter for you."

"Oh, has there?" Drifting reply for his sharp words, not even a flicker of concern in Severus's tone. He flicked off the boiler, and began to bottle the potion from that caldron while still hot. "Just leave it on the desk over there...."

"It's from Dumbledore," Lucius said sharply, laying the letter down close by him. "Why have you applied for a position to teach at Hogwarts?"

"Have I been accepted...?" Severus shifted a little, to lean backwards slightly and look at Lucius. He finished pouring the bottle that he held, stoppered it quickly, and set it aside. "I don't want to end up like Rosier, Lucius -- dead because I did the bare minimum."

"What have you done?" Lucius asked worriedly. "Have you taken something into your own hands? Severus, you should never do that!"

"I can serve Him better from within Hogwarts. If I can get close to Dumbledore... That's one less blockade for Him, isn't there?" Severus leaned his arm on the back of the chair, looking candidly at Lucius.

"Have you discussed this with Him at all?" his cousin asked worriedly, biting at his lower lip. "You should have brought it up before you did it, Severus!"

Severus stood slowly, the hand on Lucius's arm almost comforting. "I mentioned it to him the last time... I saw Him. It's something I want to do, Lucius..."

"I don't want you put in danger," Lucius protested. "I've worked hard to keep you out of it, Sevvie..."

"There's more danger in not pleasing Him than there is in pissing off Dumbledore. He still feels guilty over what happened to me while I was there in Hogwarts. The worst he'll do to me, even if I am caught, is to kick me out. Better fired from a job I don't need than dead!" His words were desperate, believable, impassioned -- better, indeed, to be fired than dead.

Lucius drew in a deep sigh and released it, hard, head turning down thoughtfully for a moment. "You're a grown man, Severus," he said finally. "I can't stop you. But... I wish you wouldn't."

"Why not?" Severus pressed that, slipped closer to his cousin, and too seldom companion.

"Because I don't want you to be in danger," Lucius told him in a low voice. "And I can't help but feel that you'll be very much so there."

He leaned, just enough, to kiss Lucius tenderly on the cheek. "I rather think I'll be safe."

"It doesn't mean that I'll stop worrying about you, just because you think you'll be safe," Lucius replied, looking up at him with a dark worry in those silvery grey eyes.

Severus felt his lips tilt a bit crookedly, as he slid fingers up the back of Lucius's neck. "I promise that I'll keep myself safe. I shan't forget about the chewing stairs, either."

It achieved his goal entirely, that touch, as he'd known it would. "All right, Sevvie. But if anything looks likely to happen, I want you to promise me that you'll come home right away, and I want you home when Narcissa has the child."

"Of course. You're still my first priority, Lucius... and I won't miss anything that He wants me to attend." He was still smilingly faintly when he leaned in and took another kiss with almost sweet tenderness. Lucius was concerned for him which was such a nice thing to feel. Needed, wanted, loved.

Definitely loved.

Arms came up around him, pulling him close and tight for a moment, fingers tilting his chin to kiss him a little better. "Breakfast is still on, Sev. You could stand to eat. You miss too many meals," Lucius told him, rubbing at a bony elbow.

"I've been busy..." He sighed against Lucius's mouth, pleased with being able to do so. "He's brought me a new list every day... I've finally caught up. So, perhaps I can spare a bit of time to eat." Severus was only half joking when he claimed that, letting his eyes close for a moment. "I promise I'll be back every weekend."

"I'll miss you madly every moment that you're gone," Lucius promised him, kissing him once again, a heady sort of pleasure that spread from lips to belly to fingertips. "Come and eat, Sevvie... And I'll promise to have breakfast in bed with you at least once every weekend..."

Perhaps... being separate from Lucius would solve the contempt he often got from Lucius. Yes. Yes, Dumbledore's idea was pleasing all around. "Is the food still warm...?"

"If it isn't, I'll make sure that it is very shortly, and that the house-elves don't make such a mistake again," Lucius promised him.

"Good. Will you come with me to the Alley today when I go to purchase what I'll need for the school?" The looks on people's faces would be priceless, particularly when he went to get robes. The horror of Severus Snape, teaching children while so young -- and dangerous -- himself.

"Of course." That was pure indulgence, accompanied by another kiss. "Anything you like, Sevvie."

It was nice to be indulged, nice to be loved, and... Oh, if only for a moment, he had his Lucius back. "Come on," he husked, tugging at Lucius, dragging and pulling him towards the door. "Let's. Narcissa might enjoy the trip, too..."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Lucius agreed, smiling at him, and he shut the door quietly behind them.

---

"My goodness! Severus Snape!" That was Minerva McGonagall, her eyes wide behind wire-rimmed glasses. "How unexpected!"

"Weren't you informed?" Severus purred, the edges of his mouth were curled in a pleased smirk. Those wire-rimmed glasses seemed to be holding her eyes in her head, just as Lucius had predicted would happen. He turned a little more towards her, coffee cup in hand -- she really shouldn't have been so surprised to see him, because it was the faculty lounge in the very early morning hours.

"Well, we were told that there would be a new Potions professor, but we certainly were not told that it would be you!" she exclaimed, stifling her surprise. "You've always been excellent at Potions, that's no surprise, but I never would have thought you the sort of person to enjoy working with children, Severus!"

He shrugged as he took a sip from his cup. "I don't mind them -- and I believe that I can at least impart my knowledge to them. Dumbledore seemed to think that I could handle them well enough."

"Well. I wish you luck with them, particularly the ones old enough to remember you most clearly." Her smile held a little secret in it, warm, one she seemed willing to share with him. "Best to remember we're on the same side as one another, then, against all of those very intelligent children. You were quite terrifying, Severus, even if you did have a horrible habit of turning things mauve."

He didn't let his own pleased smile fade. "I like the color. Don't be surprised if some of the more disobedient Gryffindors come to you at the end of the day mauve."

"Oh, dear," she said, unable to help the slight snicker that parted her lips. "You cannot go turning students mauve, Severus! Give them detention!"

"I never learned anything in detention," he pointed out firmly. "Nor does anyone else. It doesn't make anyone contrite. It just makes them unhappy."

"And you believe making them mauve will? Oh, dear. Well. We all have our methods, I suppose. But I shan't turn any of them back if you do, Severus!"

The new professor shrugged idly, as he took a sip that finished off his cup of coffee. "I didn't ask you to. I'd rather have no problems at all, but given that I plan on running my class as a practical, issues are bound to arise."

"I shall be most interested to see how this works out," Minerva told him, looking at him over the rim of her glasses. "My. I do wonder what Albus is thinking? You're very young, and so many of the students will likely remember you..."

"Albus likely was thinking that I'm the best at what I do, and my previous employers would agree." Severus's cup spilled a bit when he put it down on the table he'd plucked it from, before he cleaned it with an idle, wandless spell. "It might be good, too, that the students remember me. I'd rather not have them mistake my age for me being equal to a doormat."

"Well, good luck, Severus. I hope that things go as well for you as they possibly can," the Head of Gryffindor wished pleasantly enough, nodding to him.

"Optimistic, Minerva." The pointedness of her name being spoken showed that Severus thoroughly enjoyed being on the same professional level as she was. Still, he did give her a very faint smile, and then strode from the lounge. It would be best to get to the class before any students even gathered at the door, of course.

Seventh year Gryffindors promised to be a challenge.

---

"Goodness gracious," Flitwick sighed, kicking his tiny feet beneath his chair. "He really is terribly young, though, and so angry. And, well, a tad immoral as well, our Severus has always been..."

"Angry?" Sprout muttered. "No -- he's spiteful and very immoral. He told a Hufflepuff girl today that he was going to make her drink the next potion she flummoxed! That's just unacceptable, to make the students cry..."

"On the other hand," Sinestra pointed out calmly, "one is much less likely to botch one's potions if one will be forced to swallow it."

"Hear, hear," Minerva agreed.

"Still," Nott drawled, "can he be trusted to have an antidote?" He was the DADA teacher that year, and had been since Severus had graduated. There had been, however brief, a moment of them exchanging dark looks over dinner.

"Well..." Flitwick said with a shrug. "He was no Ravenclaw, but I'm sure that Severus was bright enough to know he'd need one. You would know, surely?"

"Of course," Nott sniffed, sounding offended that Flitwick even asked. "I simply want to know who his previous employer was, that the Headmaster considers him such a catch. He went here, but so did the Malfoy boy, and look what he's doing -- nothing."

"Well, yes," Sinestra said, "but it isn't as if Lucius Malfoy has to do anything, now is it? Not with the fortune Arioch Malfoy left behind him."

"Though admittedly Severus isn't poor," Minerva pointed out to them. "Badminster Snape was most careful with his possessions, even if all of those Aurors went through them so haphazardly upon his death, or so I'm told."

"I still believe that he's a danger to our students," Sprout snapped staunchly. "He was a danger as a student. Now that he's reached matured magic..."

It was rather amusing to see the Head of Gryffindor defending a Slytherin. "Albus knows what he's doing, dear. Never you fret over that."

"He's still so young -- he'll probably stay here a year and then leave. It's horrible to have a faculty that rotates so much." Flitwick shifted a little in his chair. "I could swear he sneered at me today when he swept past me in the hall."

"He likely did," Nott said sourly. "Severus has always been able to sneer with the best of them. You never know about him."

"We never have, have we?" Madam Hooch agreed. "The Slytherin Quidditch team the years he and Malfoy were there was the most underhanded team I've ever--"

"Oh, Merlin! Just be quiet," Sinestra sighed.

"THANK you," McGonagall said primly. "I think there's been just about enough of this conversation."

"Indeed," broke in a new voice, Albus Dumbledore smiling cheerfully at them from nearby, having heard the vast majority of the conversation already. "Severus will be quite good at this, I think. He's excellent at Potions, a true master of the art."

"If he is, then what is he doing here. Surely the ministry would want him," Nott growled.

"Ahh, yes," the Headmaster chuckled, "but we've had the luck of getting him. Not only will he have time for his private research on weekends and holidays, but he has all the amusement of teaching children, as well."

"Little heathens," Sinestra replied calmly, sipping from her cup.

"Most of them are from your own house!" Sprout pointed out in a huff. "At least the dangerous ones... Nott barely keeps them under control."

"Oh, come now," Sinestra said with a sneer that nearly matched Severus's. "You make it sound as though no one ever does anything wrong in the other houses, and I'm certain that's not true."

"Perhaps, but I think the Slytherins think more on it than the Gryffindors do when they do something wrong," Minerva countered. "Jumping in where angels fear to tread and all that."

"There is little harm to come from thinking," the headmaster pointed out firmly. "I have my reasons for hiring Severus Snape, and there isn't any need to poke at them. Now, does anyone want the house-elves to bring up some candies? Muggle candy, I've been discovering, is very delightful."

"Oh, goodness," Flitwick declared. "I do believe you have the strangest taste sometimes, Albus."

"Ahhh, but that's only because you've closed your minds to the wonder that is a piece of Cadbury's chocolate," the headmaster smiled. "Now, next time you have an impromptu staff meeting like this, please invite Severus. Or, at least make sure he isn't about -- he nearly slammed a door on me on his way back towards the potions classroom."

"Oh, dear," Minerva said, eyes widening.

"Well," Sinestra decided, "at least he won't be as furious with me or Minerva as he's likely to be with the rest of you lot."

"Don't mention it," Nott growled sourly. "One of us had best go to see him. I'll make the sacrifice, but if he turns me into something awful --"

"And mauve," McGonagall said, expression turning to amusement.

"...I'll expect someone to come and rescue me."

"We'll try, Robert," Sinestra purred, toying with her cup. "Run along and do it -- we'll rescue you when you start screaming."

"I'm immensely grateful," Nott muttered, standing and stomping off in the direction of the dungeons.

"When he's screaming?" Minerva asked behind him, raising an eyebrow.

"Just an assumption," Sinestra drawled, "because everyone knows that Snape was and probably is Malfoy's right hand."

"Well," Albus said softly, "I'll just leave all of you to your assumptions, shall I?"

Sinestra just smiled at the headmaster in reply to that, shuffled together her notes, and left. Whatever passed between Robert Nott and Severus Snape would be interesting indeed.

---

"Snape." That was said flatly the very moment Nott stepped into the Potions dungeons. The place had never been particularly pleasant in anyone's opinion aside from that of Slytherins, and Severus had done nothing to change that. It was still black, filled with murky shadows, and it smelled funny.

"You're interrupting my brewing, Nott -- that's very rude," Severus drawled, from where he was stirring a cauldron exactly four times a minute.

"Perhaps," Nott replied distantly. Lips pressed tightly together, he moved forward. "It doesn't matter. What are you doing here, Snape? This is my province!"

"I've been hired," the younger man drawled, returning his attention to his stirring. "That's obvious, isn't it?"

"And does HE know about this!?" Nott hissed. "I can't believe He'd put two of us in the same position!" They were spread too thin to place their operatives as close together as Nott and Snape now were.

"He approved when I approached Him with my idea," Severus shrugged casually. "I wished to do something other than rot in the Manor's basement."

"Don't get any ideas about interrupting me or what I do here," Nott snarled. "And you don't fool about with my House, either!"

Nott was a fool if he thought that Severus was going to be intimidated. The newest teacher stirred twice more, seemingly silent and chastised, before he cast the burner off from beneath the caldron, and pulled out the spoon. "You need to look around at what we do, Nott -- and see that I am more effective in these matters than you are. Being a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts makes it hard for you to go on sprees with them, doesn't it?"

"Not especially," Nott denied, though he was visibly lying. His lower lip poked out sullenly, giving him all the appearance of a bulldog.

"As you say -- I also want to... dispel any hopes you may have that I'm scared of you." He stood, brushing past Nott carelessly to pick up three bottles to pour the potion into. "Your threats are hollow."

"Snape, I'll be talking to Him about you," the other man grunted viciously. "I'll be telling Him your every move. Don't think I won't bring this up!"

"Just be careful not to sound like you're questioning his decision," Severus purred, setting the bottles down with a clink. That left him with free hands, that he pressed against Nott's chest with sensual skill. "A sane man doesn't ask twice."

He could tell the DADA professor didn't like it from the way that he blanched and backed away, gaze flickering slightly with what was visibly loathing and fear. "Queer."

"I think that bothers you more than the fact that you've been clearly replaced," Severus sneered, looming nearer to Nott. "Is that it? Are you angry that I've fucked my way to power? Well, I didn't."

The other man sneered, resisting the urge to back away from him. "We all know you did just that. Fucked Malfoy, fucked Him, and now you think you can have whatever it is that you want!"

"Wrong answer -- would you care to try again, Nott?" Severus lifted a hand as if to strike the man, but held it still. "I'm doing this for Him. I'm serving here because I'm better than you. Do you care to defend against dark arts, Professor?"

Nott snapped at him, eyes burning with anger. "If they don't learn anything, they can't very well defend against anything, now can they!?"

"And our own house, you silly fool?"

A sneer came by way of answer. "Private lessons. I'm their Head, naturally."

"Then show me how good you are at what you do?" Part of Severus was trying to prove the idiot wrong. The other part really wanted to see if there was anything to be learned from him.

A flick of a wrist brought Nott's wand to hand, a hiss escaping his lips before Severus could stop him. "Serpensortia!"

"Aduro!" His left hand strained, snapped forwards towards the snake that Nott spilled out, while his right hand flicked free his wand. Severus rather enjoyed the tingle at the tips of his fingers as the fire-spell poured from his mind, down his arm, and then onto the snake.

"Fonticulus!" That put out the fire, but it also left Nott with a sadly fried snake. "Morsus!"

The sting of pain that struck his shoulder was just that -- something meant to distract him. Severus remained unflinching, and lunged at Nott with both wand and body. "Expelliarmus!"

Nott hissed as his wand flew to Severus's hand, fingers outstretched to snatch it back. "Give that here, you coward!"

"How am I a coward for using my wits?" Severus drawled. He made a lazy tap with it, idle in the air. Nott's wand felt as weak as the man was.

"Just give the damned thing back!" the other man snapped, hand out for it. "I won't fool with you for so much as another moment!"

Was that a promise? Severus hoped so, as he peered at the wand down it's tip. Hmn, it was crooked, too -- that almost made sense, considering it was Nott's wand. "Don't interfere with me," Severus purred mockingly, offering the wand back to Nott.

Nott snatched it from him sharply. "We'll see about you, Snape," he sneered, turning to leave the Potions room.

"What's there to 'see about'?" Severus pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Other than your cringing, dying pride." The only thing that came to him were the remains of Nott's snarl of frustration.

Well, if Nott thought that he could make Severus's time there at Hogwarts a misery, he was deathly mistaken. At Hogwarts, Severus would be safe, despite his new 'duty' to spy. Which put him in more danger, yet having a safe place to return to made the danger and risk of it lessened. It also gave him an opportunity to save Lucius from himself, and to save any child from having to suffer what he'd suffered. It was worth it, what he was doing, and he wouldn't be put off by some ridiculous simpering man who couldn't even beat him in a duel!

With that thought held tight in his mind, Severus went back to his bottling.

---

Classes had buzzed along steadily through the fall, and that particular day was no different than any others. At the moment, Severus had a class full of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, and he was taking great delight in stripping both of them of as many points as possible.

"Incorrect, Mr. Feld -- gumwumple root and millweed paste do not make a decay preventer when simmered to a low boil. Ten points from Gryffindor! Anyone think they can get it right?" He had a sample of each in each hand, ready to prod at his students as need be with what information he had.

"Yes, sir..." a Ravenclaw said most timidly just as an owl came shrieking in from the hall, hooting madly in its excitement, a note attached to its leg.

"What the--" He barely dodged it swooping near his head, twisting to avoid certain collision with it. "Get back here, you damned bird, if that's important!"

"Professor Snape cursed!" someone gasped in shock as the black-haired man managed to get his hands on the bird, stripping it of the note with a quick, practiced gesture and opening it up to find only three stark words.

'It's time. Early.'

"I can show you a bloody lot more than cursing!" he snarled, crumpling the sheet into a ball that was left on the work-table. "Class dismissed! You'd better be gone from here by the time I come back from my rooms!" Severus burst through the heavy metal door that cut his rooms apart from the classroom, and moved towards the back corner that he kept his broom in. Blast it, he'd have to waste precious time telling Dumbledore..

"Goodness, Severus," the Headmaster said from behind him, startling him almost out of his skin. "Your students have left in something of a flood. Is everything all right?"

"Narcissa's early -- tell my students class is canceled for the rest of the day. I'm sorry, but this is an emergency." The baby was going to be premature, and he'd be dead right along with it if it didn't survive. Severus had his broom in one hand, a bag full of potions that he might need slung over his back.

"Of course," Dumbledore replied simply. "You will Apparate once you're beyond the barriers, I suppose. Be very careful, Severus, and... best of luck to you."

Careful? There was nothing to be careful about... "Yes, thank you." Then he broke into a run to the front doors to fly past the barriers.

---

By the time he arrived at Malfoy Manor, the entire house was in an uproar. House elves ran skittering from room to room, several medi-wizards milled about yelling, and Lucius stood steadfast upon the marble steps, refusing to allow them upstairs.

"Severus will be here, and Severus will take care of the matter!"

"He's not TRAINED!" one of the medi-wizards snapped, trying to push past Lucius and up the stairs. It gained him a stinging rebuke in the form of Lucius's wand.

"Severus will take care of the matter!" he stated again firmly, glaring at the lot of them.

"I came as fast as I could," Severus declared, dropping his broom in the hallway. Trained or not, he'd done plenty of research that would cover any eventuality. "Where is she...?"

"In her rooms," Lucius answered, face pale with worry. "Dobby!"

"Yes, Master Malfoy, Dobby is being here!"

"Keep this lot from coming upstairs until I tell you they can," he said sternly, and turned to hurry up to the second floor.

Severus brushed past the medi-wizards, swinging his pack off of his back and opening it as they hurried forwards to Narcissa's room. "When did this start?"

"Nearly two hours ago. She's very obviously in labor, her water has broken. She's terrified, Severus. It's only been thirty-four weeks! The child is almost a month and a half early!" Lucius said, and it was obvious that he was shaken as well.

"Maybe only a bit under a month..." Severus made Lucius pause, then opened the door to her room quietly; no need to let Lucius's panic make things worse. "Narcissa? How are you feeling...?"

"Severus!?" Her voice was sharp with fear, and the room was unbelievably hot. "Severus, it hurts. It hurts. It's too early! Oh, Merlin, make it STOP!"

"Crack a window," Severus told Lucius firmly, as he walked towards the bed. Not the wisest thing ot do in november, but clean air needed to be a part of that room. "It's too damned stuffy in here... do you want the pain to stop, Narcissa?"

"Yes!" she managed to whimper out as Lucius began cracking open windows at will to air the room out quickly. "Yes, please, Severus...!"

The vial he pulled from his bag was swirled with silver and blue. The seal of black wax pulled the cork up with it when he scraped it off with a fingernail, before lowering it to her mouth. "Drink." Obediently, she did as he told her, swallowing all of it before dropping back against the pillows in a trembling, sweaty daze.

"Sev?" That was Lucius, coming close again. "What should we do?"

"You will close the windows when the room is no longer so stuffy, and then you'll get me a blanket to wrap the baby up in once it's born." Severus gave those instructions as he drew forth another vial, and shook it vigorously.

"Doesn't boiling water come in there somewhere?" Lucius asked, and what would ordinarily have been a wry, slightly sarcastic comment remained just a bit hysterical.

"Only if we've all suddenly become panicked muggles," Severus drawled, "or if you've lost the wits it takes to cast a gentle cleaning spell. Narcissa, drink this -- and Lucius, would you like a calming potion?"

The look on Lucius's face as good as said that he'd like to smack Severus for the implication. "No," he blustered, looking slightly sullen as he watched Narcissa swallow obediently, her daze intensifying. "How long will this take?"

"No more than half an hour, now that she's taken that potion," Severus murmured, pulling his wand from his sleeve. The next step was to cast a spell to draw that potion up into her veins, and down to the placenta to force it and everything with it, from her womb. It had to be done very carefully, though, and it wasn't particularly a medi-witch approved method.

It was just as well that Lucius had forbade any of them access to the upper levels of the house.

"Right," the blond man said grimly and moved towards a door leading to the next room. "I'll be right back."

"Close the windows," Severus bade blandly, as he started to carefully draw at the potion. Lucius obeyed him quietly before leaving the room and letting him alone with Narcissa, who was by then nearly comatose.

It was for the best that Lucius left -- Severus would've cast a spell to lock him out of the room, if he'd wanted to put forth the effort. Perhaps the towels he was looking for could go missing... "Push a little, Narcissa."

She mumbled something half underneath her breath, blue eyes opening to look at him as she wept, shuddering. It was obvious that even with the potion, things were not going well. "Please," she whimpered. "Please..."

He pressed the potion along further, trying to leave soothing in its wake -- and not succeeding very well. A steady stream of words left his lips, twists to the spells, perfectly formed before he broke into it with, "Spread your legs for me, Narcissa."

Narcissa did as he told her, moaning piteously as he shifted her body, shoving pillows beneath her hips. She was leaking clear amniotic fluid that dribbled messily down onto the bed. That was as good a sign as he was going to get; at least there was no blood, yet.

"There... better." Not that it looked better. Severus would choose blood and muscle over... that, any day. He pressed the spell a bit further, slowly drawing the potion along until it was finally in her womb, settling there warmly and cradling the child, working it to unwrap the cord from around him, freeing his neck.

"Sev...erus, I have towels." How on earth Lucius had gotten back in with the things, who could say? Severus could have sworn he wouldn't be able to find the things without a house elf.

"Mmm, you should stuff them in your mouth, Lucius," Severus drawled, as he forced the spell to envelope the child. "Push again, Narcissa..."

"Nnnnnnooo..." It was barely more than a sob, and Severus concentrated deeply on the child. He was twisted, an arm wanting to come out ahead of the rest of him.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Lucius, comfort your wife," he hissed, manipulating the spell so that the arm twisted back where it belonged, without cracking any of the spongy little bones. He could feel repulsion practically leaking off of Lucius, but he did just as Severus told him, sliding close to her to prop her up, to hold her.

"Do what Severus tells you. It will be over soon," Lucius promised her.

At least, they could both hope it would be over soon. Severus snatched up one of those towels Lucius had brought with him, and slid it beneath her hips with the pillows, before he forced a ripple of the muscles within her.

Despite the potions he'd given her, she screamed, tensing violently, and Lucius's arms shifted to keep her hands from clutching at her belly. "Can you end this!?"

"Such a low pain tolerance... it's almost shameful." Absently muttered words, as Severus pressed those muscles again, and again, and a third, a fourth time. Each time they roiled sharply, pressing out the baby within her until blood leaked free, and other unthinkable goos, along with the top of its head peaking out of her. By then, she was screaming almost incoherently, legs only held apart by the force of Severus's hands and his magic.

"Something is wrong!" Lucius told him sharply, holding her back against him. "Something with her, not the child!"

"Get the medi-wizards for her. I can only handle one or the other at once..." And he was going to be damned to Azkaban before he let the babe die.

With a flick of his wand, Lucius left her held in place and moved, leaving the room even as the baby slid loose in a deluge of mucus and blood and clingy caul. He fell into Severus's waiting hands as if he was meant to be there, this thing of his creation, blood of his blood, Veela blood, Lucius's blood.

Severus's work was done, what he was expected to do. A cleaning spell swept away the nutrients that had held the babe safe through his shortened term, and a large, unspotted towel served to wrap his tiny body in, as Severus carried him to a table to inspect his health. Once his nose had been cleared, the first shrieks of life were weak, and oddly delayed. Tiny chest hitched, begging for breath but not quite able to take it in properly as needed, and for a moment, he honestly thought the little thing's life would sprint away that very moment, cradled in his hands.

He wouldn't let it.

Wands were not his specialty, but for the moment, it was what he had, so he raised it and cast spell after spell, small, tiny things designed to help the child breathe, to clear lungs soaked in amniotic fluid, to help mature fragile bones and organs that were not quite ready yet. Thirty-four weeks... more like thirty-two or three, but it would do. It would do, and the child would survive.

When the pink, wrinkled boy started to squall hungrily at last, after what could've been minutes or hours of his tinkering with the wee body so that it would live, Severus finally looked up and over to the bed. Did the baby boy even have a mother to feed it, still?

She was alive, barely, and he could hear the sounds of the medi-wizards hurrying up the stairs and down the hall. He moved out of the way as the baby shrieked, using the breath he'd given it uselessly since its mother seemed to be bleeding to death in her bed. He felt a twinge of regret at that; but that didn't stop him from conjuring a bottle of mother's milk and nursing it to tiny rosebud lips, tempting the child as he moved closer to the nursery door.

"Shhh, shhh..." Such a tiny, tiny baby. Not that he'd ever held one before, but he'd read, and researched, and knew that full-term children were larger than this little thing was, and that he was cradling it properly. Keeping it warm, too, carefully held with one arm against his chest as he finally nudged the nipple of the bottle against its lips. The nursery door opened before him with a thought, and he brought up the candle light. What a tiring night.

With care, Severus moved to the rocking chair placed near the bassinet and sat down, a warming charm keeping the child well-heated as he whined and sucked hungrily at the bottle. Clean, his white hair was a visible puff at the top of his head, and it would have been quite laughable had it not been for the sounds of desperation in the next room. "We can't just keep calling you child and baby, now can we?"

What had Lucius told him he as going to name the boy? Dracon? -- no, Draco, it was. Well, even if he was wrong, the baby wouldn't recall being called that until things straightened out. "Draco. Are you hungry...? You'd better be. You'd better have a good appetite, too, so you can get bigger than this." Severus was rocking the chair slowly, oh so slowly, as much to put the newborn to sleep as to ease his own nerves. Damn medi-witches made an awful lot of noise.

Eyes identical to Lucius's cracked just barely open, peering up at him fuzzily for a moment before an impossibly tiny hand smacked into his cheek. The bottle took up all of the child's attention, it seemed, for he sucked desperately, hungrily, hair wafting slightly in a breeze that seemed to come from the other room.

"Severus."

That was Lucius's voice, raw and tired in the doorway.

"How is she?" Severus looked up, drained from using so much magic. So much of it was his usual careless wandlessness, but the tiny tinkerings to save the little life he held in his arms had been the most draining.

"They're removing her uterus. Apparently, the strain of carrying a child for so long was too much for her." His cousin seemed as exhausted as he, but he moved forward from the door to stand before him. "Is he...?"

"He's drinking, isn't he? There's still more that needs to be done, but for the moment, he's alive." Severus lowered his eyes to look at the baby with a certain fondness. "Cast a warming spell in here, Lucius, if you've the energy. I'm sapped at the moment. Just enough to take the dampness out -- he has weak lungs."

Without a word, Severus's request was granted, and Lucius moved to put a hand gently on that soft, cotton-candy hair. His hand swallowed the child's head as he inspected the boy, conjuring a blue knit hat to place upon his crown. "Not quite four and a half pounds, is he?" Lucius whispered. "And so small..." He took a deep breath. "And there will just be the one. Fuck."

"He'll survive," Severus almost promised, in the same way that he had that the boy would be born. It wouldn't be simple, but it would be. Very carefully, he pried the bottle from sucking lips -- no sense in letting him gorge himself to death. "This week will be important -- I'll owl Dumbledore to tell him that I'll be back next Monday." The baby had to be watched over, shifts in health adjusted.

"I'll do it," Lucius said shortly, shifting to pull away from the two of them. "I want you to take care of him, Severus. Close care. I'll check on Narcissa and then send the owl."

"Thank you." Severus inclined his head slightly, then touched at the knit cap that covered the fluff of hair. When he was less tired he'd have to conjure the boy proper clothes. No, even better... "Send Dobby up, if you could."

"Of course," Lucius replied on his way out of the room. That left Severus alone with the child again, the baby dozing already. A deep breath would be followed by several shorter ones before Draco's breathing would pause and then start again with that little gasp that filled his lungs.

He would have to simply keep a very close eye on the boy.

---

Severus jerked awake, the sound of voices in the room next to the nursery waking him from the light doze into which he'd fallen so often in the pervious three nights.

"You say she's sterile." That was Tom, and it made him shiver and hold Draco more tightly.

"They had to remove her uterus..." Lucius's voice was cold, but Severus could recognize anguish in the undercurrent. Narcissa still slept as her body healed itself just as her newborn son was healing, still growing.

"What good are you if you cannot reproduce, Lucius?" The question was asked with an undeniable anger, and Severus could almost see the fury on His face. "And Severus. I should punish him for not making certain that you could create more than one child!"

"Perhaps you should," Lucius muttered, "but how could it be foreseen by any of us? The medi-wizards were surprised that even one had been born. Narcissa is so weakened from it all..."

"SILENCE!" That was roared, loud, furious. It was a miracle that it didn't wake Draco where he was held tightly against Severus's chest. "If Narcissa cannot provide you children, perhaps I should search for another woman who might," Voldemort continued, the sound of it sneering. "This one will be mine... and I want another."

"A-another?! My Lord... Narcissa is my wife, and Draco's mother, I cannot--"

Severus winced as that word left Lucius's lips. One never said 'cannot' to Tom.

The crack of flesh meeting flesh sounded, a violent slap, Severus was certain.

"You can and you will. I will find you another, and this one will be created with a different purpose than the first," Tom sneered audibly, making shivers ripple down Severus's spine. "Perhaps Potter's wife, as I intend to kill him and that brat of his by the end of next year. The Gryffindor line will be expunged, and you can have a new, fertile concubine. You needn't divorce your wife," he jeered.

"No, sir... I suppose I don't," Lucius sighed, probably from the floor. "What will the purpose of the second be, my Lord..?"

"A channel for power," Tom informed him shortly. "Your child was meant to be, but with a body as weak as his will be, he'll be useless as anything more than a concubine."

"Can't..." Lucius made a nervous laugh, "can't you find someone full grown who's strong enough? There's... There's Severus, my lord..."

"Don't question my plans, Lucius," Voldemort said coldly. "Severus was too old when I got him to be of any use to me. He's far too independent. You will raise both children, when the time comes, to be dependent upon me or upon you alone outside of me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, My Lord," Lucius acquiesced to Severus's mild horror.

Severus closed his eyes again, and went back to rocking in the chair, looking down at Draco for a moment more before he stood to get another bottle for him. He could pace and feed Draco, after all. That information gleaned would have to be passed to Dumbledore as soon as possible. He didn't want to leave the child alone at the Manor -- the mere thought made him almost physically ill -- but there was nothing he could do for now. Nothing that would make it better. At least, for a while, the babe would be too young to touch, to train, to do anything to at all.

He hoped more than anything that he would manage to save at least one child, if not Lily's as well.

---

"Yes, Headmaster -- he's planning on killing Potter. He wants to wipe out the line of Gryffindor..." It was the very day that he'd returned to work after he was sure that Draco was well enough. As things were, he'd be Apparating there nightly to stay the night and make sure that those little hitching, gasping breaths didn't kill Draco.

"I see...." The old man looked at him most seriously, hands folded in front of him as he peered at Severus thoughtfully. "He wants two children, then. I wonder..."

"What're you wondering...?" Severus leaned forwards a little, expression curious, but exhausted.

"The Potter child is very powerful," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Much more so than either of his parents. I wonder if Voldemort has gauged that power and decided that he might also gain such a child by using Lily Evans, despite the fact that she is not a Pureblood."

"But he expected as much out of his... hand-picked breeding pair. Only, Draco is weak. If he makes it to be old enough to attend this school, I'll be surprised.

The Headmaster gave a deep sigh. "I hope that he does. You seem quite fond of the child. For now, though... I think that I shall send the Potters into hiding very shortly, Severus."

Fond was a disgusting understatement, Severus noted to himself. But leave it to Dumbledore not to fully understand too many things of that odd nature. "I would recommend it, or else the heir of Gryffindor will be dead, and his wife will be bearing Lucius a bastard."

"Both forthright and incredibly true. I hate to remove them any sooner than necessary..." The old man paused. "It will only make their secret more likely to get out, if we do that. Perhaps you can learn if there's a time limit or a date...?"

"Before the end of the coming year," Severus drawled. "But he often lays out time periods that way. I'd suspect no sooner than the summer, but there's always the possibility that it's next week. And that I'll be there when he does it."

"Then I'll start the search for a Secret Keeper," Dumbledore sighed. "The centaurs say that only the blood of Gryffindor will be able to defeat him. Poor Tom.... He really never could quite stop wanting too much."

"When you taste power, the desire for more doesn't go away," Severus pointed out, resting his chin in one hand. He was so blasted tired that every joint in his body seemed to be aching. So much missed sleep, and too many pepper up potions were having their toll on him. "Does it?"

"Sometimes, there are more important things than power," Dumbledore said very seriously. "Happiness, for example."

"Happiness is an artificial state created to fool one into better following orders," Severus sneered in soft retort.

"I'm quite content," Dumbledore protested lightly. "And I do as I please."

"As does Tom. And both of you give out orders, don't you?"

"An excellent point," the Headmaster agreed. "Do you think you might be happy, one day? Or, say, content, Severus."

"I think I might be dead someday. I suppose I'll be content if my body is in a recognizable form, and there's enough to bury." Happiness and contentment were caught in odd moments, that most people wouldn't look for it in. It was in holding Draco when he slept, or ate, and knowing that he'd done a lot more for that little life than either of its parents. It was in making a perfect batch of even the simplest of potions. Accomplishments, however unobtrusive they were.

"I most sincerely wish that you will find happiness while you yet live, then, Severus," Dumbledore told him seriously, "and that when you find it -- or when it finds you -- it will not baffle you so badly that it sends you running from it."

"Why would I run from Happiness? I certainly haven't run from misery, or blind stupidity yet, and those frighten me more." Dark eyes rolled a bit at the headmaster's suggestion -- oh, of course, people like him were supposed to flee from happiness. The double -- triple? -- crosser was always expected to run. People like Dumbledore never realized that people like him had very little to run from in that area.

Still, the old man only smiled at him and nodded just as if he knew what Severus was thinking and he said only, "Of course."

"How has my class been in my absence?" The question changed the topic entirely, but Severus was growing bored with it. There was no need to dwell on unimportant things, after all.

"Well," the Headmaster said, and this was said a bit sheepishly, "I did try to teach them myself, Severus, but the fact of the matter is that I didn't do very well so mostly I kept them out of trouble and they're all nearly a week behind."

What news to come back to. "Any casualties? Did you at least give them notes so they could pretend to take them...?"

"And they pretended very well," Dumbledore agreed with a wry smile. "Half of them had sugar quills, I'm almost certain."

"I usually confiscate those." And 'disposed' of them himself, usually when he had to grade their papers. "You'll have relaxed them so much that I'll have to put very little effort into scaring them witless. How disappointing."

"Ah, but a great deal of fun for you, I don't doubt," the Headmaster said, mouth curling into a smile of great amusement. "You enjoy seeing them tremble before you."

"The only ones that tremble are the ones who didn't do their homework of the previous class, or who didn't do it adequately. If they'd just do the reading..." He free hand waved a little, vaguely dismissive.

"They'd have no reason to feel such terror of you," the older man laughed. "Nott wanted to take over for you, at least partially. I told him no," he said, shaking his head seriously.

"Nott wants me dead. Nott is Tom's failure at infiltrating this school." Back to that again, and Dumbledore could see the weight fall on Severus's young face once more.

"The precise reason I did not give over your class to him," the Headmaster agreed. "Would you like some candy? I have chocolate..."

"Yes." The type didn't matter -- a bit of sugar would serve very well to escort him back to his rooms. "It's just as well. Nott wouldn't know what to do with a cork stopper if you shoved it up his ass."

"Ah, yes, and just as well to remember that, I think," was the reply, a bowl full of chocolate muggle candies passed over to Severus carefully.

Severus's lean fingers grasped onto a handful of the little bits. These had a coating on them, but it seemed edible. Not like those damnably over-wrapped morsels of chocolate that Dumbledore had given him once. "When I go to the manor of the holidays, is there anything in particular that you want me to try to learn...?"

"Any definite news on new attacks," Dumbledore replied. "And you might like to lay a bit of false information about our defenses here. I'll make sure Nott knows a few falsehoods, as well."

"Anything else?" He'd been subtly working to become once more 'loyal' in Voldemort's eyes, so that he could get the information that Dumbledore asked of him.

"Simply do as you think best. I trust you to do so," Albus said with a firm nod.

"You know I hate vague directions," Severus sighed, shifting to sit properly upright as he munched on a few of his handful of candies. "But I'll manage. Goodnight, sir..."

"Goodnight, Severus," the Headmaster said quietly, and watched as Severus stood and walked out of his office, shutting the door quietly behind him. "And good luck," he sighed, before turning to stare into the fireplace thoughtfully.

---

Even in the muggy heat of summer, it was cool there. Even with the muted noise of birdsong just outside, it was solemnly silent. Even with His lordship in the room, it seemed void of life. Severus hated it all, even as he knelt before the man.

"You summoned me, Master?"

"Yes," Tom purred, looking at him with green eyes edged by heated red. "I've missed you, Severus. You've spent quite a bit of time with the young master Malfoy. I believe I even saw you burping the child last week. Most industrious of you, to care so for my future pleasure..."

That wasn't why he did what he did, and Tom knew it damn well. Still, Severus made no mention of the reality, and kept his head tilted down, though his eyes stayed raised. "He is a delight to care for..."

"Perhaps..." Voldemort murmured, fingers beckoning. "I would much rather you saw to my current pleasure, however."

Severus felt his stomach lurch, but he moved forwards as those finger beckoned him, rising up only long enough to kneel directly before Tom. "And how would you have me do that?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"You are perfect right... where... you... are..." Tom whispered, and leaned close to him, taking his hands and placing them at the front of his robes.

"Yes, my Lord," Severus murmured softly. His fingers pried at fasteners at the front of Tom's robes, parting them slowly to get to His groin. It was painfully easy to take the swollen head into his mouth, sucking almost sweetly -- and waiting for the moment that Tom took control.

For a time, the Lord let it pass, fingers stroking lightly through dark hair gone dingy with the heat of the nursery, stiff with sweat. It seemed to suit Him to thread those vicious digits tenderly amidst black strands of hair, and Severus would not dare to object, not even when they fisted tightly and drew him down to the root of Voldemort's hardness. "Yes." A throaty affirmation was given. "Yes, just like that."

If he hadn't been so accustomed to it, Severus might've choked; but as things were, he just shuddered a little, and swallowed as hard as he could, trying to suck in air around it. It didn't help very much; part of the man's sheer sadistic pleasure was in denying him breath to live, and it seemed to excite Him even more when Severus's slight struggle amounted in his throat closing off momentarily, tightening around Tom's prick. "God," the bastard moaned. "So tight. So hot. Should have you teach that to Malfoy's brat..."

Not if Severus had a choice in the matter. He kept the thought that Voldemort would soon fall in the fore of his mind as he tried to suck in a struggled breath around the thickness of Tom's cock, pressing his tongue against the underside.

"Sex is power, Severus. Remember that..." It was drawled, almost as if it wasn't a conscious thought at all.

Severus hated Him spectacularly in that moment. Sex didn't have to be power. Back... back before Tom, back before everything went so wrong, sex had been pleasure, sex had been a game, and sharing. And for that child in the Manor, Severus was going to try to make sure it was the same, when he finally reached that age. Draco would never learn that sex was power, not as long as he could help it...

Nodding his head a little, Severus tried to draw back far enough to breath, before the faint spots in his vision overwhelmed him.

It was an unexpected kindness when Tom allowed him to do so, gave him extra room for breath, stopped blocking his airway so that breathing through his nose was possible again. Unexpected kindnesses were something that made Severus very, very suspicious. "Undress."

With good reason. Severus rose smoothly from his knees, and moved back a bit from Tom just as he knew the man would want. Undressing was always hard; he wanted to just get the clothes off and be done with it, but Tom... Tom liked it to linger, most times. Severus's fingers toyed with a button, almost coyly, and those red-flecked eyes watched him hungrily, a vicious smirk crossing those lips.

"For such a spectacularly unattractive man, Severus, you are always so beautiful like this."

Severus's expression, distant and half-absent, faltered with a spike of detest. By merlin, how he wanted to rally at the man and tell Him to just fuck off. "Like how, sir?" Severus asked, continuing unbuttoning his shirt.

"Undressing for me. Naked for me. Giving in... for me. It must be difficult for a man with your pride," the monster hissed softly, reminding Severus of a reptile. It was a besmirchment on the name of such creatures. "To subjugate himself for another."

Severus's fingers plucked upon the robes more quickly, letting it fall open and then off. At the school he wore layers, and trousers, but knowing what was to come when he saw Tom had made him think not to wear anything but the top robe. "Perhaps."

"Come." It was an order accompanied by beckoning fingers, and it was obvious that Tom didn't intend to undress any further. "Into my lap."

Severus did so, when the man was seated; but it wasn't just sitting in His lap, no. It was straddling it, so close to Tom's face and pressed against His body that it made Severus ache. Whatever was going to happen would probably hurt.

Sometimes Severus hated being right.

Clawed fingers tugged at ass cheeks, spread them wide and pushed him down 'til the dry head of Tom's cock rested close against the tiny hole between them. "Now," Voldemort whispered coldly, "settle down, Severus."

He'd learned long ago that he wasn't allowed to use magic in these encounters, not unless that was clearly what Tom was trying to drive from him. Severus guessed that even if he tried, he probably wouldn't have been able to conjure up lubricant, or to cast a spell that would leave that muscle relaxed. So he had to fall back to the 'natural' ways, which was clenching his teeth, jaw tense as he pressed himself down onto it. He could feel the flesh giving way, the feel of it raw and aching as he tore, and it was all he could do not to cry out in pain when Voldemort's hands found his hips and pressed him down hard to the root.

"Yes..."

A gasp, and a small whimper escaped Severus' clenched jaw and tightly closed mouth. "Oh, oh, damn, it hurts..." Pain streaked up from that point, right up his spine and then out, making the hurt worse.

"Good..." That was fairly cooed, a hand soothing down his spine, falsely comforting. "Good. Now. Fuck yourself on me."

As if that command would make his limp cock spring to life with want. Severus did as he was told, thighs straining against the pain as he lifted himself, then pressed down again, and repeated the motion a few times, to a fresh surge of pain each time.

"You don't like that, do you, Severus?" Tom hissed in his ear. "You want to stop, don't you? You want to never suffer through my touching you again....?"

Severus shuddered as he lowered himself down on the painful intrusion once more, nodding his head ever so faintly. To never have to do it again would be a blessing...

"Just another few years. Just a handful, and then you can train the boy for me, and you can go back to your potions..."

He shuddered again, though it could have been mistaken for relief, or even joy, or the pain that flushed through him as he tried to pick up pace to please Tom more quickly. "My Lord..."

"Tell me how you want me, Severus," he was ordered, the fingers on his hips bruising him in Tom's excess of spirits.

Coherence was gone, though, and Severus just whined, still moving as he'd been told to do. "Please..."

"Please, please, please..." It was a snide mockery of him. "Soon," Tom promised him, beginning to hitch up into him. "Soon..."

With Voldemort moving at last, Severus could finally feel safer -- it meant that Tom was probably finishing up, and that is he was lucky he'd be able to go home soon.

Home...

Malfoy Manor wasn't really home anymore, was it? With Narcissa so cold and dead, and Lucius just as bad. There was only the baby and this, this suffering, the way that Tom took him and hurt him and groaned with pleasure as He did it.

More pain, and finally He started to show signs of reaching the end, probably stirred on by Severus's pathetic noises, his pleas to be left alone, to have it stop, and finally their incoherency. When He came, it was just one more violent wrench deep in Severus's guts.

"You may go," Voldemort purred in his ear with a sloppy bite for the lobe, pushing Severus off of Him.

Severus laid there on the floor for a moment, breathing hard. He just had to gather up his mind, then his clothes, and... go somewhere. Back to tiny Draco? For a few hours, once he was himself again. Until then...

It had been a long time since he'd been to Snape Manor.

---

"Severus!" Lucius's voice was just as deep and delicious and rich as Severus remembered it being. "You haven't been home since school let out. I've missed you," he said, shifting the baby carefully to his opposite hip. At nearly nine months, the baby was still tiny, but oh so inquisitive, and he squealed, reaching out hands for the dark haired Potions master.

"I've been trying to restore Snape Manor to something livable," Severus drawled, "and avoiding Him. How has Draco been...?" He knew very well how the baby was, by sneaking beyond Hogwarts's Apparation wards in the dead of night just to see Draco, to know that he was well, and alive. He moved closer, up the front steps towards Lucius, fingers reaching towards Draco's tiny hands. "Hello there."

The child squealed, a shrill sound that made Lucius wince even as those hands clutched tightly at Severus's fingers. "He adores you, you know. I rather think he'd be even happier if we just sent him to live with you. I still don't see why you feel you need to move back to that place, Severus," he said, giving the baby over to him and stepping back into the house.

Severus lingered a moment, cradling the child comfortably close before he walked into the Manor. "I feel out of place here -- now that you have an actual... family, I'm unsure how welcome I am." The child was so articulate at least with his expressions, pale-skinned just like Lucius -- but with grey eyes that were alive, unlike his father's.

"You know you've always been welcome here, Severus," Lucius replied, "and in many ways."

"Am I?" Severus's tired expression tried to lift just a little as he turned his attention to Lucius.

His cousin scowled at him, shaking his head. "Yes," he said flatly. "You are. Narcissa misses your company. Draco cries for you when he has his mid afternoon nap. And I'm lonely without you..."

"So, if I were to come here on the weekends...?" Severus stroked soft hair away from Draco's face, smiling at the tiny boy. "Restoring Snape Manor from the hell that my grandfather had let it fall into was my only familial duty, I can assume."

"That would be very much appreciated," Lucius told him almost primly before smiling at him, the baby cooing with no small amount of enthrallment and smacking Severus on the chin with a fist. "Draco, at the least, will be enthralled. There are no words to describe my own delight."

Certainly no words Severus could think of, as he looked at his long-time lover with a tired gaze. Perhaps... ah, but Lucius was still so cold. "Good. Then I'll linger, and... Draco, is there something you want, hmn?" Severus craned his head back a little, guessing that the smack to his chin had either been joy, or to get his attention.

Gurgles sang at him teasingly before the baby drooled on him, causing Lucius to shrug. "It's time for feeding and a nap," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "This having a baby thing. It's really quite time-consuming, even with a nanny..."

"You're raising a small human being," Severus pointed out, "so of course it's time consuming. Is he still on a bottle, or...?"

"Oh, yes," Lucius said. "He really isn't old enough to wean yet, is he?"

"Splarple," Draco agreed.

"Besides," his father continued, "you know Narcissa's milk was quite inedible. I wasn't aware that milk could be blue."

"Well, it's best to have him bottled in that case," Severus mused. Narcissa's blue 'milk' had been quite the remarkable thing, in the first weeks... and then it was just an irritating thing. "He's still so tiny. Does he take his feeding and nap in the nursery?"

"Sometimes, or in the study if I'm busy with him and want to work a bit, too, that particular day." Lucius wouldn't admit it, but it was quite obvious that he was enjoying fatherhood, and who wouldn't, if they had a nanny to hand the baby to when they were tired of it?

"We can go up to the study," Severus suggested. There if only because there was room for pacing, and more than one person to sit down comfortably, in a room that wasn't decorated for a baby. "Some day, I hope to teach him at Hogwarts."

"Yes, I'm sure he'll be brilliant, won't you, sweet dragon?" Lucius purred, and it was rather amusing to see the man talk to a baby like that. Severus never would have thought he had it in him, or that a child would be so gleefully happy about the matter. "If he lives that long." It was a doleful sort of sentence that denied the obvious health the still too-small child had, or perhaps only accepted that Voldemort had plans for him.

"He will," Severus's voice held a hint of accusation in it as he looked at Lucius, shifted Draco closer almost protectively. If Dumbledore and the ministry failed, then... then he'd steal Draco away before it came to that.

"We can hope," Lucius sighed, looking at him sadly as they slipped into the study, giving both of them a moment of quietness as Lucius sat down, watching him. "How are you? I know He went to see you, not so long ago."

"He's been doing it all summer long. I'm alive..." And tired, from night after evening after evening of sleepless, edgy, fearful nights. It was verging on insomnia, and Severus was falling back onto making potions at all hours of the day and night between checking up on the restoration.

"That explains why you look so tired," his cousin replied, watching as Severus began to pace back and forth, Draco's head eventually falling to his shoulder as the motion made the babe sleepy. "He's planning the attack on the Potters."

When Draco's head fell, lolling heavily onto his shoulder, Severus finally paced over to the chair near the fireplace. Oh, some of the things he and Lucius had done in that chair... "Of course I haven't heard any of it. I've been getting buggered all summer."

"Better that than some of the other things," Lucius said darkly. "Wilkes is dead, you know."

"And where is the blood? Their hands, or ours again?" Severus's voice, which had filled out in richness since his days as a boy, drawled that question tiredly as he conjured a bottle of milk. The milk itself was as rich as he gathered Draco's stomach could stand, and he nudged tiny lips with the tip, knowing he would wake Draco up from his doze.

"Theirs. The Aurors are certainly bloodthirsty enough when the blood is Pure," Lucius said, jaw clamping tightly as his teeth clenched. "I have to wonder if they'd be nearly so industrious if we were a lot of Mudbloods."

"Of course they wouldn't be. They might feel guilt. Now, Draco -- wake up for a bit, there's milk here for you." He nudged the nipple against the baby's mouth again, so gentle. "He's told me that I'm to... to train Draco when he's old enough."

Predictably enough, greedy little hands clamped onto the bottle as those miraculously small lips parted and sought the nipple avariciously. "Train him." The sheer anguish on Lucius's face was difficult to imagine him as ever feeling. "Oh, God. Can nothing in our lives remain pure?"

"My exact thoughts, Lucius..." Severus's eyes closed for a moment, feeling the slight tugs at the bottle he held in his hand. "I wish... that he would leave this child be."

"It isn't as if there's any choice, no more than there's choice over whether or not I have to touch that Mudblood, Evans," Lucius declared. "Might as well wish for the stars, Severus."

"We used to." He let his head rest back against the high back of the chair. "We used to wish for the stars, Lucius. We used to wish that we were in power... not flunkies. Do you remember those days?"

"Barely," Lucius agreed. "Just barely. We do have power now, Severus. Just it sometimes comes with a ridiculously high price."

"Power over what, Lucius?" Severus demanded. "I pay this price, and I pay it sometimes almost daily in pain and agony, for WHAT?"

"I don't know," his cousin admitted. "I don't know, don't ask me questions like that, Severus, because I can't answer them. I just can't. I can't even think right now between fretting about Draco and plotting against the Potters. We have just another three months to do what needs doing..."

"Bloody fucking hell, and I thought trying to teach eleven year olds was a lost cause," the younger wizard hissed, as he held Draco just a bit closer. "So we kill the Potters, and then what? We kill more mudbloods, or their sympathizers?"

"Not looking so glorious anymore, is it?" Lucius said grimly. "In fact, it looks rather bleak, if you ask me, but there's nothing to be done about it. I don't know about you, but I don't want to end up like Father."

"And the ministry can't stop us. That's the bleak part, that we're fighting such an... incompetent group. The most danger we face is ourselves, Lucius."

"I suspect we tread perilously close to treason, Severus." It was a light warning, but a warning nonetheless.

"I know. I know, only I don't want this child to hurt the way I have." Warning taken, heeded, and excused for ignoring in the first place, all at once.

"Neither do I," Lucius admitted reluctantly, looking at him sadly. "I'd like at least one thing in my life to remain untouched by Him. Barring that..." He sighed, shook his head, and decided not to say anything more. "He's fallen asleep again. You might like to take him up to the nursery, and I'm sure Narcissa would love to see you."

"Is she there now?" His voice sounded faintly curious.

"Napping, lightly. She's still... not well." That was a polite way of saying that she likely would never recover from the birth and often spent a good portion of the day in bed, languishing.

"Still...? Lucius, there is... St. Mungo's. Still -- for a rest, perhaps?" Severus's lips twisted sadly the moment after he'd said that.

"She doesn't want to leave home, and... I can't deny her, not when things have gone the way they have. How could I?" Lucius replied, shrugging and returning the same smile. "Once we see Narcissa, we'll put Draco down and... and then come back downstairs, perhaps." It was obvious he'd considered a different sort of offer.

"Perhaps," Severus sighed as he stood again, leaving the bottle on the chair. "I've another day or so before I have to go to Hogwarts to lay out my plans for the school year. The other staff will no doubt be surprised that I'm still employed."

"And that Nott isn't," Lucius agreed dryly, rising with him. "He was complaining at the last meeting that Dumbledore had gotten rid of him. Needless to say, He wasn't very pleased."

"Nott's been caught multiple times now spying on Dumbledore when he's in conference with other teachers, or officials. The fool deserved to be sacked."

"He finds it most interesting that you've not been caught," Lucius told him as they headed out into the foyer and towards the stairs. "He even begins to believe the entire matter was His own idea, though I suspect," a grey-eyed glance darted his way, "that it was more likely yours."

A nod of Severus's head was all the agreement he needed to give. "Dumbledore trusts me, mostly out of guilt. He thinks I'm there because the real world scared me."

Lucius's audible snort was most amusing. "I don't think you've ever been frightened of anything. Sometimes I think He doesn't even frighten you."

"Often... He doesn't," Severus sighed, petting Draco's back gently. "At least, not until recently. I don't really care what threats He makes on me though. Only you and Draco are my worries now."

"So strangely selfless, my Severus," Lucius sighed. "My lovely, immoral creature. Sometimes I wonder what happened to us. And then, sometimes, I know." He shrugged, and paused to knock lightly upon Narcissa's door.

"I'm still immoral," Severus denied. "I don't care about anything past this and my work." The baby in his arm was still dozing comfortably, a reminder of why he should put up with Lucius's odd coldness.

Some indication that they should enter seemed to come, heard only by Lucius, and the other man pushed the door open quietly. The room smelled of a sick room: of tiredness and sleeping draughts and ointments. The bed seemed perfectly made aside from the thin, frail woman laying within it, and she gave a tremulous sort of smile, looking with bruised gaze upon them.

"Severus," Narcissa said very softly, and held out her hand to him.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Narcissa," Severus drawled, taking her hand and clasping it for a moment.

"You don't come home often enough," she chided him, and cast her glance upon the baby in his arms. "You ought to have one. It seems very right to see you holding him."

"Severus is unlikely to have children, 'cissa. Well," Lucius said wryly, "at least as unlikely as I was, at any rate, so I suppose I shouldn't cast the first stone."

"I'm surrounded by them, every day that I work," Severus pointed out. "And when I'm not working, I can come to see Draco here. There's no need for me to procreate." There was a need for him to get out of that room, and to cleaner, fresher air, less dingy seeming surroundings.

Limply, Narcissa laid back in her pillows, eyes closing, the lids faintly blue. "Thank you for him, Severus. Did I remember to tell you that?"

"I don't think, Narcissa, that you have to," Severus murmured. His fingers strayed, petting the soft hair at the back of Draco's head once more. "How have you been? Better than you were over the Christmas holidays?"

"I'm even allowed out of bed every now and then," she said with some humor. "The house elves come and air out the room twice a week. Perhaps tomorrow..."

"If you feel well enough," Lucius hedged. "Severus, would you like to lay him down?"

"I think I will," Severus admitted after a moment of thought. He actually wanted to hold onto the baby for a few more minutes, touch the one pure thing left in all of their lives. But Draco would probably sleep better on a mattress. "He still hitches breaths in his sleep, doesn't he?"

"The mediwizards say that he will for a while yet. It was supposed to stop at some time near his due date, or so they claimed, but apparently his lungs lacked development..." Lucius said, frowning. "There's an alarm on the bassinet to let someone know when his breathing stops."

Probably one of the house elves, but at least they were attentive at all hours of the night. "That's good to know. When he's older, things can be done to help." Severus looked at the peaceful baby's head, smiled a little to himself. "Narcissa, perhaps you'd like to accompany me to the Alley when I go to buy my supplies for the school year?"

Her head turned to Lucius, expression hopeful. "Please, may I? And Draco? It would be so nice to go out..."

"Well...." He seemed obviously reluctant. "If you're having a good day, I don't see why not, so long as you take Dobby along."

"Let her," Severus prodded softly, despite already turning towards the nursery door. "Being cooped up in here can't be doing her any good."

"When will you be going?" Lucius asked, leaning to kiss her forehead lightly before following Severus.

"Tomorrow or the next day. I'd like to go to the school on Monday so I can set up my supplies again, look over what I covered last year." Severus let Lucius pass into the room first, then closed the door behind them.

"All right," Lucius agreed reluctantly. "I just worry about her. She's not well, as you can see."

"Perhaps if you let her out she'd get better," Severus suggested, heading towards the bassinet.

"Taking me to task, Sevvie?" It was asked lightly, nothing meant by it. "I know. She hasn't wanted to go out, though, truly. I'm sure you'll have a good time together tomorrow. Make sure she buys something bright and fun while you're out, will you? And something for Draco." As if there weren't more toys in the small nursery than any five children could possibly want, never mind need.

"I will," Severus promised him. "Perhaps a new dress, or... who knows. I'm only there to buy supplies and robes for the year." Draco was so gently laid down in the bassinet, and he took a moment to press a stuffed doll close against the baby's soft skin. Arms wound hesitantly about it, little puffs of breath caressing haltingly over Severus's fingers, and Lucius couldn't help but smile.

"So sweet. Both of you. Sevvie..." He tilted his head to the side. "We never did really end things, did we? Just... We stopped."

"We stopped." Because it hurt inside more than it did him any good, drained and depressed him to feel the bleakness, the emptiness of it. Severus stood back, eyes still as tired as they had been when he'd arrived, focused on Lucius's grey eyes and studious expression. "I think I've changed too much to want things the same way you want them."

The twist of mouth that gained him held no humor. "Perhaps. Probably. Sometimes I think that if it wasn't for Him, none of it would be this way. They'd probably just be hunting us down in our houses, though, and killing us that way instead of concentrating on Him, if He weren't so visible."

"Perhaps." Severus's hands lingered on the bassinet for a moment, face tired. "Perhaps you're right. But you've changed, too... that night Draco was born, I heard you offering me up to him in an attempt to save yourself from having to sleep with any more women."

"What else was I supposed to do?" Lucius asked him, grimacing. "Tell him no? Would you have done?"

"Perhaps not offer your lover further into misery to save your own hide? Avoid the question altogether...?" Severus wandered a little, over to a pile of stuffed toys. He could feel their enchantments, lingering inactivated until Draco was old enough to interact properly with magical toys. Not until his first birthday, at least, on account of his premature birth.

"...I'm sorry," Lucius admitted. "Not that I expect being sorry to change anything. Not that I wouldn't do it again, especially if I could keep what has happened to you from happening to him."

As if he were some ruined, worthless thing. Severus's lips twisted a little as he picked up a stuffed tiger, peering at unnaturally green eyes. Perhaps he was, and perhaps everyone in the world saw it but him. "How do you suggest we do that? I want to protect him as much as you do."

"The only way I can think of is..." Lucius paused, casting a quick silencing spell on the room. "To kill Him. Rid ourselves of Him, and you know that by now, that's nearly impossible. He's more than twenty years older than us and still looks of an age with us both -- He's cast more spells to protect His life than you or I could conceive."

"I've been getting closer to Him, you may know," Severus admitted after a moment. The tiger was set down again, as he turned to look at Lucius once more. "If there's a weak point left in Him, I will find it..."

"I don't think we can manage it," Lucius said softly. "I think if we try, we'll die trying."

"Well there isn't much else left for me to do, Lucius," Severus sneered. "Is there? I've served my purpose of making it possible for Draco to be born."

"Sevvie." It was stricken, soft, full of grief. "Sevvie, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

But Severus just stood there for a moment, slightly stiff in his trousers and shirt, looking at Lucius in heavy contemplation. Those apologies were never heartfelt for long, and to take them was to be hurt again... "I know you are. And I'm sorry that I'm so worthless."

"Never worthless, Severus. My Severus. No, never you. Harmed, fully through my own fault, yes. But never worthless."

Grey eyes were so tempting as he said those words. "Lucius... let's go to your study now, Lucius."

"Yes," Lucius agreed, and stepped towards the door that led to the hallway, holding out a hand to Severus. "Let's."

Silent, wary, Severus clasped Lucius's fingers in his hand, clutched at his lover's fingers tightly.

---

"I haven't been out in ages!" Narcissa whispered to him giddily, clinging tightly to Severus's arm as he pushed the stroller in which Draco lay along in front of them. The thing was quite ferocious, made to look as though the child lay in the maw of a dragon, but that didn't seem to bother him. If anything, the little boy had grown gleeful at the sight and squealed himself clean out of breath.

Severus was smiling to himself, half secretively, as they walked through the entrance to the alley. "You should've come out sooner -- but tell me if you feel tired or dizzy at all. We're certainly in a good place to be if anything should happen."

"Surrounded by magic," she agreed, blue eyes darting here and there. "Look! A baby shop! Say that we can go!" Such excitement, such longing. "Look, pretty baby. There will be even more toys for you there. My boy will never lack anything he wants," she promised Draco, then smiled sheepishly at Severus.

"His father never lacked for anything either," Severus reminded her with a smile, "and if you have the resources, why skimp? We'll go." They could just leave the stroller in an aisle for a bit, and walk the store with Draco so that he could look around. He'd napped earlier, but once the dust of the Floo had woken him up, he had been wide awake since.

"I'm so glad you came home," Narcissa admitted. "Lucius has been most foul without you. He misses you, I'm sure of it." She paused, glanced at him from the sides of her eyes. "Though I believe I understand your anger with him. You will not stay away for always, will you?"

"I don't think I can," Severus sighed, looking over to her for a moment before looking forwards again, making sure that the awning of the stroller was keeping the afternoon sun off of Draco. "I truly had to repair the Manor this summer. You know I'll be back on weekends and holidays again..."

"Wonderful. Perhaps he won't mope so, and I'm sure our darling little boy adores you. Such glee," she laughed softly, and the baby squealed in happiness with her, a leg flung up to wave happily in the air until his hand reached it. That likely meant that he was planning on chewing his toes, as Draco had adored his feet since the moment he discovered them.

It was rather cute to watch, if a bit disturbing at times. Keeping shoes on Draco's small feet was almost impossible, and when Severus had tried to spell a pair to stay on that morning, the baby had set up such a wail that he'd given up. As far as the child was concerned, Severus was just a very interesting doormat. "I've been sneaking in over the summer to see him, and to make sure his lungs are steadily forming properly."

"Well, with the wail he set up this morning when you put on his shoes..." Narcissa giggled, a very girlish sound, one that Severus hadn't realized that he'd missed.

"Oh! Severus!"

Severus twisted a bit, from opening the door to the store for Narcissa. "Lily -- how nice to see you..." Alive, and not in Tom's clutches. It was very pleasing indeed.

"Oh, yes, I haven't seen you in ages," the green-eyed woman replied, giving him a dimpled smile. "And is this your lovely wife? I hadn't heard you'd wed..."

"I am Narcissa Malfoy," Narcissa said calmly, looking at her curiously, particularly the baby on her hip. "And this untamed looking young creature?"

That didn't seem to offend the woman, though. "This wild man is one Harry Potter, and I'm Lily. I went to school with Severus, the poor man."

"I'm teaching there now," Severus said with more than a hint of pride in his voice. "Your son and Draco here will probably go to school at the same time..." If the new heir of Gryffindor didn't end up a tiny splat on a wall.

"Draco?" That was said with great curiosity, though the look of the pram obviously nearly frightened poor Lily, and there wasn't much that could do that. "My. How ferocious... Ah, there. What a sweet ball of fluff. All of that hair, and chewing his toes, I see. Harry is also quite fond of his toes."

"He looks just like Lucius did when he was that little. Only I believe he has your hair, Narcissa..." The pram was pushed into a vacant niche that was probably for just that purpose, and Severus lifted Draco up with familiarity after he pulled the baby's foot from his mouth. Draco wasn't properly appreciative of that move and whined in complaint, lips poking out adorably.

"Yes, yes," she laughed, kissing one of the baby's thin cheeks. "It is Langlois hair, fine and... well, rather like a puff, isn't it?"

"What do you think, Harry?" Lily asked her baby, stepping closer to Severus momentarily.

Harry was bigger than Draco, better filled out than the tiny silver-tinged baby; he looked at Draco for a moment, then his head bobbled to look at his mother again before he tried to grab a handful of Draco's fluff, but Severus didn't let him. "Ah, ah, no..."

Oh, but how he obviously wanted it, and reached for it greedily as if it was some sort of candy, and that made both of the mothers laugh and Lily shook her head. "How old is he? Harry is thirteen months, aren't you, darling boy?"

"Mmmmmommma," he agreed.

"He'll be a year in November," Severus murmured, holding the boy carefully cradled close, so that Draco would lay his head down on his shoulder if the urge struck, and could certainly look at what he wanted to that way.

"I suppose all first time mothers are so delighted with their children," Narcissa said politely, nodding at Harry, who seemed to be determined to drool all over Lily's blouse.

"Heavens, yes. We're here after something for Harry to chew. It seems like he's constantly teething these days," she said wryly, "and we've switched to bottles as a result."

Draco, in comparison, was such a neat and tidy little child. Severus paced a bit closer to Narcissa, which was conveniently nearer to a shelf of stuffed toys that had caught Draco's bright grey eyes. "Ah? Only just...?" He really had no interest in the banter, especially since he knew how hard the pregnancy itself had been on Narcissa.

A little squeal alerted him that the boy had found something he liked immensely, at least for the moment, not to mention a grasping hand that tangled frustratingly in his hair. He hoped he wasn't being drooled upon.

"Well, as you seem to have your hands full," Lily teased, "I'd probably best get on with business. James is waiting for me at the ice cream parlor down the way."

"Is he still an Auror?" That question trailed off in soft assurance to Draco that he could have whatever he wanted, and he lifted his free hand to pull tiny fingers out of his hair.

"No," Lily admitted, glancing over at Narcissa and shrugging. "We've been on the continent for a while and only just come home."

"So James Potter is unemployed?" Severus's lips curled slightly, in mild glee as he mulled that over.

"Don't seem so pleased about it, Severus," James's wife said dryly, shaking her head.

"Oh, yes, of course you can have it," Narcissa whispered to Draco, handing him the stuffed toy he had been trying so desperately to reach. "Yes..."

"Come now, Lily -- don't expect me to like him, ever," Severus snorted, even as he turned his head a little, to kiss the fluff on the side of Draco's head. "What've you got there, baby Dragon?" Draco hummed an answer, already gumming steadily at the trunk of the elephant he'd been given, one just as silvery as he.

"Well, true. You do seem to have your hands full, Severus. It was so nice to meet you, Narcissa, and your baby Dragon. Harry would agree, if he'd just stop slobbering on me," Lily said dryly. "I'd best be going. I hope you have a marvelous time out, though."

"You too, Lily -- best of luck," Severus drawled, even as he turned towards Narcissa, turning Draco, too, so he could still face his mother, elephant clutched close.

"She seems very nice," Narcissa told him once Lily had gone on her way. "Perhaps I should invite her to tea?"

Did Narcissa have any inkling of -- no, probably not, and Severus didn't want to tell her. "Likely not; she drags her husband with her everywhere; he's far from 'nice'."

"Ohhh. Lucius would have him for breakfast, then, I suppose. Oh, look. This is a darling little thing, Severus. Shall we buy this, as well?"

Severus picked up the cloth doll with his free hand, studying it for a moment before he deemed that the entirety of it have been spelled so that it couldn't be chewed apart. "Yes. Something he can sleep with, and it's light enough for him to drag when he crawls..."

"Dooooollllly."

Narcissa startled visibly, looking at Draco with her lips parted. "What?"

The elephant's dampened trunk was out of Draco's mouth, and then tiny hands dropped it before they started to reach for what Severus held.

"I do believe he just said 'dolly'," Severus murmured in astonishment.

Draco was fairly cooing little moans of pleasure by the time he had the doll, rubbing his fluff-covered head against the ragdoll's pale tresses. "He loves it. It's perfect," Narcissa sighed, smiling. "His first word. Dolly, of all things."

Severus had heard Draco's first word -- how wonderful, to be there for that. He couldn't help but smile as he pressed Draco into Narcissa's arms, then bent to pick up the elephant that Draco had dropped. Dolly or no, the baby was still getting whatever he laid his eyes on. "That's wonderful," Severus exclaimed, with a twinge of excitement in his voice. "Come on -- let's see what else he wants. So wonderful..."

"You're more excited than even Lucius would have been!" Narcissa laughed, and there was an edge of tiredness in her voice already, even so soon. "Look! There's a mobile made of mirrors. Such a pretty baby. He'd love that, wouldn't he?"

"Start the vanity early, yes," Severus teased, moving to pluck up the wooden box that it was packaged in. "And I'm excited, because he's doing so well! Those damned medi-wizards said he wouldn't live, but they're wrong, and I've known it all along..."

"Nothing you created would ever be something to let go easily, Severus," she told him with a nod and a smile. "Neither man nor babe nor creature nor potion, and you created him as much as his father and I might have done, more so."

"Ah, but you bore him," Severus pointed out, but he wasn't going to argue at all that he hadn't done more work than Lucius -- because he had, a lot more work on Draco.

Narcissa shook her head. "The one and only, which would not have been managed without you. Let's pay and go buy some ice cream, Severus. Do you think he could eat ice cream?" They should have started him on solid foods perhaps two months before, but he hadn't handled them very well, so it had waited until most recently.

"If we let it melt a bit, I don't see why not. It's only milk and sugar, and he gets sugared milk for a treat now and then, doesn't he?" Severus headed towards the cashier, with the elephant and the mobile. On an odd thought, he snatched up a stuffed wand, which was also put on the counter. "And that doll there."

"That'll be a Galleon eleven sickles, sir," the clerk said sweetly and waited for him to dig it out, bagging the toys up swiftly. Though Draco squealed shrilly at the sight of them disappearing, he didn't let go of his dolly.

"You can see them all you like when we go home," Severus promised, shrinking the bag as they headed back towards Draco's ferocious stroller. "What flavor do you think he'd take best to, Narcissa?"

"Oh, strawberry," she decided thoughtfully, listing to Draco's demanding shrieks as Severus placed him, toys and all, into the pram. "Vanilla wouldn't be such a treat as that, would it?"

"No, not enough flavor. Strawberry it is, then." Severus paused a moment to place Dolly in Draco's lap a bit firmly, as it to take Draco's attention onto it. "A cup of it, and a spoon, then. I think he'll enjoy it. He likes his mushed fruits, doesn't he?"

"Particularly berries and bananas," she agreed, laughing as Draco began to nibble firmly on the doll's toes as opposed to his own. "Well," she said, "Perhaps it's just as well. Now he has someone else to gnaw upon."

"It's indestructible," Severus said with satisfaction, as he pulled at the stroller, and then pushed it out of the store. "He can chew to his heart's content."

She laughed, shaking her head at him. "Come along, then, Severus. To strawberry ice cream we go!"

---

"What's our target?" Severus hissed to Lucius, wand twitching in his hand, halfway up his sleeve. "I should be at the Halloween feast, Lucius..."

"He's found the Potters," Lucius said faintly, the sound of his voice muffled beneath the white enamel mask. "Their secret keeper wasn't quite so secretive."

Severus wanted to curse, but he bit his lip and swayed a little closer to Lucius in the enveloping darkness of the woods. Godric's Hollow -- who wouldn't have suspected? Well, no one had ever accused Potter of being a Ravenclaw. The fool. "Then what're we here for?"

"To destroy them." The words were bleakly, firmly spoken, and he could feel the glitter in Lucius's grey eyes from behind that mask. "All for a stupid concubine. All to polish off the Gryffindor line."

"Dumbledore is going to notice I'm missing," Severus hissed desperately. "Let me go back. Otherwise he'll KNOW."

"If I let you go, He'll know, and which do you think would be worse!" Lucius replied swiftly. "I'd almost think you were betraying us by showing such desperation, Severus. And if I think that, imagine what the others might!"

That was sobering enough to silence him. "Never mind, then," Severus whispered, pausing for a moment before he stalked forwards, out of the grove and into the street.

"Not so soon!" Lucius hissed, hand wrapping hard around his elbow. "He wants to go in alone!" And sure enough, there was a deeper darkness against the door, a glow of magic, and the thing opened as easily as if it hadn't been locked.

"Then why are we here," Severus demanded, walking back into the grove at Lucius behest. This was going horribly...

"You don't honestly think Lily Potter's going to go willingly, do you?" Lucius hissed. Yells sounded out in the darkness of the night before a flare of green light lit up the bottom of the house. "I never thought my machinations in your fifth year would end in this."

"Machinations...?" Severus's eyes went wide, but the mask hid the expression; Lucius could only guess at it from his suddenly tight voice, and the way he looked over his shoulder to the other pockets of death eaters. "This is the revenge you said..."

"No. Not the deaths of the Potters, not... precisely," Lucius said reluctantly. "But the cause of it, ultimately."

"Fuck." Severus's breath caught in his throat, as he watched a second flash of green blossoming out of a second story window. Was that their sign? Potter and the baby were surely dead by now.

"That's it," Lucius agreed, and they moved from the grove towards the house. There were others of them converging on the place, but it came as a surprise to them all to see a third brilliant burst of verdant light in the upstairs. A sudden violent pain ripped through each of them, dropping them to their knees, Lucius falling down beside Severus with a low moan.

It was almost as sharp a pain as the stab of the first branding. The house before them started to shake and shudder, but neither of them could move, not a one of their number as the pain seeped through them, and then...

It was gone. And so was the feeling of Him.

"What...!?" That was Lucius's voice, sharp, shocked. "Come on. We have to go in there!"

"No!" Severus staggered to his feet, mask wrenched off of his face but clutched in his fingers. "We're leaving!"

"But...!" It was only a momentary protest, for Lucius realized that the others were Apparating away swiftly, and the roar of an incoming motor was coming closer. His arms quickly wrapped about Severus and he closed his eyes, and they Apparated together.

When Severus's eyes opened tightly, he found himself standing at the edge of the Hogwarts Apparation barrier with Lucius. There was fear, and the oddest giddy rush through his veins, despite his mind not processing through what he guessed had happened. "Come, Lucius."

"This can't possibly be a good idea, Severus!" Lucius told him, face pale, expression wild. "We can't go there! We should have gone home!"

"Narcissa and the baby are fine," Severus insisted, jerking at Lucius's arm sharply. "Come with me. I don't want you in Azkaban!"

"Severus, I have to g..."

"Good evening, Severus. Ah, and Mr. Malfoy, as well, I see." Nearby bushes parted and Dumbledore walked out easily into the darkness of the night, almost seeming to gleam in and of himself.

"He's dead, Albus," Severus declared with a ragged almost laugh as he looked over to Lucius, still masked. It took him only a moment of pause to tear the mask from Lucius's face, and to throw back his own hood. "Potter's dead, Lily's dead, but HE died there..."

"My God," Lucius whispered, shock shuddering through him. "My God." Severus really had betrayed them.

"Your arm...?" Dumbledore requested, reaching out hesitantly.

Severus pulled the sleeve up without thinking, showing it to Dumbledore without looking; he was looking over his shoulder at Lucius. "We're safe, Lucius -- we're safe, and Narcissa and Draco are going to be all right..."

"Right up until the Aurors kick in the doors, Severus," he replied, slightly panicked. "They're sure to have captured several of the others who didn't move as fast as we did, and you know they're going to spill every bit of what they know!"

"Don't worry about that, Mr. Malfoy. The matter will be taken care of duly," Dumbledore assured soothingly.

The sleeve of the Death Eater's robe fell, and Severus grasped Lucius's arm again. "Come. It's safe here..." The building beyond was alight still with the merriment of the Halloween feast. "We can Apparate back to the Manor and get Narcissa and Draco, if you wish, but please..."

"Yes, we have to, I can't leave them..." Lucius said, jaw clenching for a moment. "So long as they'll be safe here. I won't risk them."

Severus nodded, tugged Lucius near again, and then they Apparated once more, coming to a staggering halt on the steps of the Manor. They were both tired, Severus shaking with a strange joy, Lucius with shock, but they hurried inside.

"Master, Master!" That was a house elf, one that squealed in shock at the sight of them.

"Get rid of these things immediately," Lucius ordered harshly, stripping off mask and robe and tossing them in the elf's direction.

"Destroy them," Severus agreed, tossing his own at the elf. Right away he raced up the stairs, calling out, "Narcissa!! Narcissa, get Draco!"

"Lucius? Severus!?" Her voice sounded panicked as she walked out of the nursery, Draco in her arms, bottle in his mouth. "What's wrong!?"

"We're Apparating to safety," Severus murmured, reaching for the baby as he met her at the top of the stairs. "Tom's dead."

"Dead?" she asked, startled. "Should we take anything with us?" Clothing, money, jewels; they both knew these were things she meant.

"Only some clothing for Draco and a few toys. Perhaps one of the house elves. Hurry," Lucius told her, and headed quickly towards the stairs again. There were a few things he would undoubtedly want to put away before any of the Aurors arrived.

"Hurry," Severus agreed, as he lifted the boy from her arms, bottle and all. "His Dolly!" There was no time for comforting words to the baby, who was no doubt startled by the shouting. Only time for Severus to walk to the bottom of the steps, and listen for signs of impending danger. At the first noise, he'd Apparate away and at least Draco would be safe from any auror's wrath over the death of one of their own.

As they fumbled hurriedly amongst the nursery, the baby began to cry, the loud, piercing wails sounding panicked and hitching. He wouldn't be soothed, even when Severus gave him his Dolly, and Narcissa seemed as if she might well be close to tears, as well, overwrought in her fragile state. "Oh, Severus!"

"Lucius!" Severus pulled Narcissa close, an arm over her shoulders so that he could pull her with him if they had to Apparate so fast. "LUCIUS!"

"HERE!" Lucius called to him from downstairs, where he was magically destroying all traces of the few Dark objects that weren't hidden beneath the parlour floor. "I'm coming!"

"Oh, Merlin, please, let us go. Please. J'ai si peur!" Narcissa shuddered, clinging tightly to Severus for his strength.

Lucius barreled into the hallway where they stood, at the very moment Severus heard the fizzle of Apparations in the air around them. He clutched a hand onto Lucius's shoulder, and concentrated on the very gates of Hogwarts.

There was no one in the house by the time the Aurors all arrived.

---

"Professor?" It was a timid voice that asked the question, eyes riveted on the puff-haired baby on a pallet in the corner. Draco was gnawing steadily at his Dolly, but Narcissa and Lucius were both meeting with Albus at the moment, so there was nothing for it. "Ah, do we add the crushed bougainvillea petals before or after the wort, sir?"

"Before." The familiar snap of Severus's voice was punctuated by one lean hand pointing to the chalkboard. "Can't you read, Ingrith?"

"Erm, well," the poor, brave, senseless girl said, "it's just that, there's the baby, and, well, is it really good to have a baby in potions class, sir?"

The frustrated growl that he loosed was dangerous to them all. "That baby was created with potions, Ingrith, and is less of a hazard to the general health of this classroom than you are. Sit down, and do your assignment for the day." He turned away from her immediately, pacing over to Draco's pallet for a moment to make sure that all was right with the baby.

Wobbling slightly, Draco was trying very hard to stand up, and he clutched at Severus's robes, cooing in his attempt.

"Do you want up, baby Dragon?" Severus smiled. He'd smiled an odd amount since that week had begun, and particularly when around either male Malfoy. That particular tone of soft, alluring whisper was saved just for the baby that clung to his clothes.

Up, up, up, Draco's tugs implied, along with the words that he repeated. "Up. Up. Up!" So demanding he was, and it was almost enough to keep Severus from realizing that there were people filtering into his classroom.

"Up you will go then, Draco," Severus smiled, bending easily to pick the child up. Draco, not even a year old yet, was still so light in his arms. "Come, let's see what my students have buggered up today..."

"Severus Snape?" Oh, that was a cold voice, and not one he recognized. No, but then, how could it be, when James Potter was dead and Sirius Black was in Azkaban and all of the others he'd known were dead or scattered? He knew what the man was the moment he'd spoken, and that was what mattered.

"Yes, I am he," Severus said calmly, turning to look at man. Not just one. But four, and his students had fallen into silent shock at their arrival. "May I ask why you're disrupting my classroom?"

"You're under arrest for being an accomplice to Vold..." the one who'd spoken began. Several loud hisses sounded. "To You-Know-Who."

"Voldemort," Severus finished for him, blandly. Draco was shifted in his arms, clutched close -- the only sign that existed of the fear that clutched at his heart. "Have you spoken to the headmaster about this? If you speak with Albus Dumbledore, you'll see that your charge has no hold. Now, class -- please got back to your cauldrons before they boil over."

"Yes, Professor, but we still have to take you in. Routine matters," another man assured him blandly, two of the four coming towards him steadily, wands raised.

"Then give me a moment to give Draco back to his parents," Severus said after a moment of eyeing the aurors with obvious anger. "Don't fear that I'll run -- there's no place to run to, and no point if it's for... Routine matters."

"We've already collected Lucius Malfoy," the first man said sternly. "The Headmaster will be down to watch your class in a moment. Leave the brat with him."

Brat... Severus's jaw clenched as he turned from them, and walked to set Draco back down on his palette. "Be good for me, Draco, while I'm gone."

"Flar?" the baby asked him, eyes welling up with tears at being set down again. "Fsar?"

"Gentlemen." Dumbledore's voice sounded as he came into the room, grave and edged slightly with anger. "Professor."

Severus didn't turn around yet; he only kissed Draco's forehead, then pressed his dolly into small clutching fingers. "I would assume that a routine matter could wait until I wasn't in the middle of supervising a lab practical," Severus hissed in a very controlled tone as he turned around. Yes, class was a loss for the day, and that was fine. They were technically a week ahead of his original lesson plan as it was.

"The new Minister, Cornelius Fudge, has requested that everything go as quickly as possible," the Auror who hadn't yet spoken said most seriously over the sound of the baby setting up a nervous, hysterical wail. The tension in the room was phenomenal; it was no wonder the child was upset.

They could all see Severus's jaw clench tight once, twice, and then go forcibly slack. "See to Draco for me, Albus. Well, sirs, let's not disrupt my class for any longer -- lead on."

"Of course," Albus said, nodding at him, and the fire in his eyes told Severus that the current situation wasn't any of his determination. "Narcissa is resting. Lucius has gone on before you. It won't be for long, Severus."

Oddly, Severus doubted that. There was no reason to believe that what was going to happen would happen quickly. But he wasn't going to put up a fight in front of his students, and possibly make them hysterical. "My class notes are on top of the dresser in my rooms, Albus." And then he walked past the knots of Aurors, and into the hallway beyond his classroom.

"Come along, Snape," the one who'd spoken first said solemnly, taking his elbow as he moved up behind him. "It's time to go to Azkaban."

"WHAT?" The door had barely closed behind them all when Severus eked that out in startlement. "Why?"

"Because that's where all of you lot are going," he was told with no small amount of disdain.

"But why? I worked with the Ministry on this..." Severus jerked his arm away from the man, eyes wide with fury

"You worked with Dumbledore," one of them said flatly. "None of his operatives had names."

"And since none of his operatives had names," he was told, "we're making sure he's not trying to slip something past us."

"What do you mean none of his operatives had names? I've a name, dammit! I'm Severus Snape, Professor of Potions!"

"He didn't give us any names," the first corrected sternly. "So you have to go to Azkaban. If you won't come willingly, you'll just have to go bound!"

"You lying ministry bastards! I did more for your cause than most of you could dream of, and this is what I get?" He took a step backwards, wishing suddenly that there weren't anti-Apparation wards on the school.

The moment he stepped back, four wands were pointed closely at him. "Hold still, Snape. Don't you dare run."

"You don't think I can't kill you all?" Severus snapped. "I could've killed you when I was twelve, without a thought. That I haven't should be proof enough of whose side I'm on."

All he could do, then, was stare in shock as the word parted the lips of the man before him in a whisper. "Stupefy."

Severus Snape knew no more.

---

Ice clutched at his body, squeezed at his mind nauseatingly. They felt like pricks into his very soul, trickles of ice that seeped across a barren waste of sand. But the sand didn't stop the ice; it welcomed it, and every grain clung to it, moving with the ice as it advanced deeper and deeper until the shelves of frost closed together. And when there was no more ice to concentrate on the motion of, it started over again with a vacuum-like feeling, another chill splitting into his body.

To Severus, that splitting was the same, that closed in cold the same. When he thought, when anything crossed his mind that could've been considered a normal thought, it started again. That cold, sucking slipping feeling, until he was breathing hard and concentrating on it in a sad attempt to stop it from happening again, but there was no way to stop it. Other thoughts drifted into his mind after those first few hours, horrors relived. He was being chased by a werewolf, he was falling from his broom, crack, slash, screaming under the pressure of a wand, screaming as fingers slid into his flesh to pluck at veins, as hands cracked open his bones to sip fresh marrow.

Cruciatus.

The child.

Lucius's knife.

Lucius's knife in a belly, in his own belly, ripping out giblets of meat and organ and blood and sinew, and his knife, Severus's knife, caressing in a steely slice over his own throat. Blood. Pain. Arioch's enamel mask, burned into skin and skull.

Cruciatus again.

Rosier.

Wilkes.

HIM, green eyes gone red, and cock still alive, still thrustingshiftingfuckingrapingmaking him scream and wanting it to stopstopstopstop.

Then it faded in a crackle of the ice starting all over again, seeping through him as he curled up on his side in the cell. Tears dripped sideways across the thin face, screams and whimpers leaking from a raw throat. Relief only lasted so long before the next hysterical bout of chilling thought washed through his mind again. If only he could stop thinking.

If only he could stop thinking.

If only he could stop...

He beat his head against the wall. He thought he did, anyway, thought he heard others, heard Lucius screaming, screaming about Narcissa and the baby, screaming about Severus. That, too, could have all been in his mind, as it seemed constant, seemed to go on for days. He could hear Black. He could hear Lucius. He could hear McNair, Goyle, Crabbe, Avery, Nott. Guilt and pain and guilt and guiltandguiltandguilt.

Nott's screams always brought a delicious spike of smugness, which brought the cold sweeping back into his cell. It went on and on, each sweep draining him more and more, until he pressed himself into a corner of his cell, the corner nearest the door, fingers twined around the rusting, flaking bars. Soon, clutching and rubbing at those bars, hitting his head back against the wall, and living through the swarming agony, he lost the ability to think. There was nothing but the sand, and stirring cold breezes; occasionally, there was food, and it was when he had to move to eat that food that thoughts stirred in his dead mind, bringing the cold back into himself and the pain with it.

There was Draco in his mind, only Draco looked like Lucius, and then it was Draco, or Lucius, being impaled in a fence outside of Hogwarts by Tom's own hands, and there was laughter and screaming, and those eyes, brilliant, beautiful grey eyes looking at him full of accusation and hatred.

Of pain.

Of agony.

Even when light came in the form of soft voice fingers touch warmth quiet, he couldn't believe it. The ice was in him, the sand scratching, scouring out the inside of his head, and it was never going to be better.

Never.

If he let himself think, if he dared to move, it would just start again... So Severus Snape sat still, clung at the bars of his cell with glazed eyes, slack jaw, stiff body, and it didn't matter that someone had come to get him, that he was being lifted, shifted, moved, drawn away from the hell of cold and grit that had stolen his mind away from him.

It wasn't safe, it was only a segue to another horrific memory or scene. And to think would only quicken that coming, and then he'd see one more compatriot being skewered open, one of his few loved ones being torn limb from limb, or feel his own flesh ripped off of him with icy fingers that lapped at his mind.

"Hush, now, Severus. Hush now. I have you. It will be all right. I have you, now."

Who was that...? He didn't dare to think of the voice, for fear of what could come next, and barely dared to fear. He clung to the ice and the grit, knowing that it was a tentative relief, the blandness revealed only to unfocused eyes a blessing.

"Yes..."

"Free..."

"Charges have... dropped... no more... Ministry."

"Will take..."

"And... Malfoy?"

"Remains... but will... free within... week."

"Ahh."

"Luci...s." His head lolled, and the name caught in his throat, half formed. Lucius the corpse, a grinning mask of agony, shock-filled eyes, betrayal, hurt, hatred, oh his Lucius...

"...waking... want to... sleep spell?"

"Yes. Yes, I think so." It was Dumbledore's voice, wasn't it? Wasn't it?"

"Lu... lucius..." Was he there too? Was he dead, or still screaming, was... Grit scraped through his tired mind, rubbing over his poor attempts to think.

"Sleep, now, Severus. Sleep. Sleep..."

He hadn't been sleeping? He'd thought he was, alive but dead, and Merlin it was so cold, biting at his flesh again... Dry, glazed eyes creaked closed, still barely slitted open as the spell fell heavily upon him, and swept him under.

Out of the cold and the ice, and into the little pocket of spelled warmth that kept the familiar walkway dry and welcoming.

"Sefrus! Sefrus!" A familiar squeal from the boy who was now nearly two. Thin little legs pumped madly, no baby fat at all visible on the toddler who ran at him with arms outstretched and hair a wild tuft of untamed white upon his head.

"Good morning, baby Dragon," Severus smiled, stooping to his haunches so he could catch the boy as he pummeled into him. It was surprising to see Draco so perfectly navigate the three steps that he had, without stumbling in his tiny jerking steps. "Happy birthday, Draco! How have you been?"

"Happy!" Draco decided, wrapping his arms tightly around Severus's neck. "Miss Sefrus!"

"I'm glad that you even remembered me," Severus said in easy delight, standing easily with the boy held carefully close. At least someone in the Malfoy household missed him. "Where're your father and mother...?" One of them had to be lurking beyond the open front door, to have let Draco out to run down the walk towards him.

"Study. Daddy's study," Draco informed him importantly. "Dobby watches Draco."

"And, on occasion, I do as well, when he isn't running away from me on those fast little legs," Narcissa said dryly. "Hello, Severus. We're glad to see you."

"He's a born athlete, I believe." And all of that running strengthened his little lungs. Severus pulled her near for a polite, vaguely remorseful hug as they moved into the manor proper. Then he closed the front door behind him. "And how've you been, Narcissa?"

"Better," she sighed, smiling at him warmly. "Much better. Draco and I even went shopping for new toys yesterday. He won't give up his Dolly, no matter how Lucius hates it, though."

"Love Dolly," Draco cooed wetly in Severus's ear. "Love Sefrus."

"I bet he hates it..." Severus's lips curled into a smile that was far less tired or wicked than most of his smiles. "I'll come visit you more often, I promise; and when you're bigger, Draco, you'll go to school where I work."

The squeal nearly burst his eardrum and was accompanied by an excited squirming that gained him elbows which likely bruised his shoulders. "Want to go! Draco can go!" he insisted, looking to Narcissa. "Draco go NOW!"

"Draco can go when Draco is older," Narcissa replied.

"Tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow," she agreed, and hoped that he would forget.

"You've been there before," Severus murmured, "When you were very little. You were a perfect angel in my classroom..." And then things had just gone right down the fucking drain, and he hadn't seen Draco or Narcissa since then. He'd seen Lucius only once, to argue desperately with him.

"Want go," Draco decided happily, snuggling against him. "Tomorrow."

"Demanding baby," Severus teased softly. "Yes, tomorrow -- and today, do you want to see the gift I've brought you?" Severus swayed Draco slightly, looking to Narcissa with supplicating eyes, hoping that he could. He'd taken time off of work to visit Draco on that important day, and hoped that he wouldn't be immediately kicked out.

"Present?" There was certainly a happy sort of greed in that question, the toddler beginning to fidget and search as if looking for one. "Present?"

"For your birthday," Narcissa told him. "Tell Uncle Severus how old you will be."

"Draco will be two, Sefrus," the tiny creature said importantly. "One, five, two!"

"Brilliant boy -- you're simply brilliant." He kissed the side of Draco's head, just beside one pale ashen eyebrow, then whispered, "If you leave out the five."

"One, two, five?" Draco asked him thoughtfully.

"One, two, three, four, five. But you've only have one and two so far." Severus shifted him out of his arms, standing the boy on the ground. Not that he'd let go of him yet. He grasped the baby's tiny hand in his, which meant he had to lean over a long way to do it. "Can you take me to your father so I can say hello to him before I give you your present?"

"Want present now?" Draco asked him, pleading prettily as he looked up at Severus's face. "One, two, four, five?"

Narcissa laughed. "He's awfully spoiled, my sweet dragon boy."

"That's good. He always has been, and I wouldn't want him to ever be unhappy," Severus said as he looked back to Narcissa; he knelt on the ground so that he could be closer to Draco, talk to him on a closer level.

"Want present now?" Draco repeated, draping skinny arms about Severus's neck once more. "One two five four?"

"Well..." Severus's hesitance was entirely artful, mostly for show for Narcissa. Then he pulled a gaily wrapped box from the sleeve of his robe, as one would pull a wand. "Narcissa, open it for him...?"

"Want to open!" the little boy yelled, dancing with glee and reaching for the package. "Draco open!"

"I think he can manage it if you help him, Severus," she told him, laughing at both of them.

"All right, all right..." Severus, still kneeling, handed Draco the box, though he loosened the ribbon for the baby so that tiny fingers wouldn't be hurt.

The paper tore away gleefully, little nails scrabbling at the box, small mouth pouting until Severus opened it for him. In the midst of crushed tissue paper lay a wand, a pretty thing made mostly of pale cedar, and Draco squealed happily, lifting it and pointing it at his mother.

Narcissa was suddenly very glad that she liked the color mauve, as it was splashed all over her pretty, pale blue dress. "Oh, dear, Severus..."

"It fades in three minutes," Severus promised, as he closed the box lid. "I tested it myself to make sure, before I even thought of giving it to him."

By the time Severus had all of the paper stuffed together, Draco had scampered about half of the foyer, steadily flicking his play wand and spreading color everywhere. Green, purple, blue, red, yellow, traces of rainbow hue smeared over the walls. The toddler hurried along towards the study, delighted and wanting to show his father.

"What is all of this ra... Severus! Oh my GOD, what have you done to the foyer!?"

"It's only temporary," Severus assured as he rose to his feet again, and dashed the little bit he needed to, to stand nearer Lucius and Draco's eager, color-splashing form.

"Daddy!" It was said with no small amount of laughter as Draco turned his father's trousers, bright, unrelenting neon pink.

"Good God," Lucius groaned. "Only you, Severus, would find such a gift and give it to him. I suppose I should be very glad it isn't a noisemaking creation?"

"You know I don't enjoy noise," Severus chided softly, looking at Lucius unwaveringly. Nothing had physically changed about Lucius in the year since he'd last seen him. Nothing at all, and part of him wanted for there to have been some change. "I won't inflict anything on you that I couldn't bear myself."

"Obviously," Lucius told him as Draco gave Severus a brilliant splash of aquamarine and a laugh.

"Best toy, Sefrus! Best toy!"

"It's better than Dolly...?" Severus asked doubtfully, giving Draco that oddly fond, softer smile.

"Mmmmm..." Draco seemed reluctant to answer that, grey eyes darting suspiciously to Lucius. "No."

"It's a girl's toy..." Lucius began.

"It's Draco's toy," Narcissa told him firmly, glaring as her shoes were turned brilliant amethyst just as the mauve of her dress faded back to pale blue. "Which means that it is not a girlish plaything!"

"I don't think it matters, Lucius, considering." Considering that Lucius had been quite gay in school, and after, and that there was no point to being bothered by such a small issue.

His cousin gave a deep, irritated sigh. "I didn't say I was going to take it away from him..."

"If you did," Narcissa told him flatly as Draco went to work on the nearby collection of antique fans upon the wall, "I would make sure you were the one to listen to him shriek all night. You know he won't sleep without Dolly."

Lucius winced as each fan was turned an entirely different color; Severus delighted in those winces as much as Draco delighted in the colors. He let the issue of Dolly drop, though, and pressed on with, "And how have you been, Lucius...?"

"Busy," Lucius said. "I've been expanding most of our business holdings and I've just bought the Daily Prophet, so perhaps something profitable will come of all that."

"The entire Daily Prophet?" Severus laughed outright at that. "Something profitable indeed..."

"It took some convincing," Lucius said demurely, "but I figured most of us could use the influence of it."

"Draco day!" the toddler, now returning to them, insisted. "Draco Sefrus! Mine!"

"Oh, bloody..." Severus cut himself short of actually cursing, and turned back to the baby who was tugging on the sides of his trousers. He hefted Draco up again happily. "Yes, it's Draco Day."

"Mine," Draco told his father again forcefully, clutching at Severus. "Mine, Daddy, mine!"

"Yours," Lucius agreed with a sigh. "Narcissa, don't you have some cake or something that you'd like to give Severus and the baby?"

"Dobby has come up with something I think you'll love," Narcissa told Severus smoothly. "I know how you like sweets."

Dobby would know even better than Narcissa, considering that Severus had come of age in Malfoy Manor. The professor just inclined his head slightly. "Thank you. Join us, Lucius -- you can forget your work for a few hours, can't you?"

"I'm afraid I truly can't," he said, sighing as Draco waved his play wand and promptly colored his father's hair a horrid crayon orange. "Plus, I'd rather not remain this way for long."

So Lucius was intent on avoiding him. Well, it could be dealt with easily enough. "All right. I'll just drop into your study before I leave to speak with you. Narcissa, you were saying something about sweets?" He swung his attention, and thus Draco's, over towards Narcissa once more, eyes looking faintly more tired.

She smiled at him and nodded graciously. "The most magnificent thing Dobby has created, all chocolate with rich vanilla bean ice cream. Draco loves it, though he can't have very much. You will find it a delight."

"Chocolate!" Draco whispered happily in Severus's ear, laying his head upon the man's shoulder. "Draco loves chocolate."

"Draco loves a lot, doesn't he?" Severus purred back to the child, as he walked with Narcissa to the dining room. The baby no doubt wanted -- and deserved -- all the attention he could get, and since Lucius wasn't there on 'Draco Day', Severus damn well was going to stay there until Draco went to sleep that night.

"Draco loves Sefrus. My Sefrus," he declared again and smiled, peeking through dark strands of hair. "My mummy. My Sefrus. Happy."

"You're so very happy, Draco... tell me, what else would you like to do today? I'm here until you go to bed tonight, baby Dragon." Severus' fingers petted over the soft, thick sweater that Draco wore.

"Play Dolly?" Draco suggested thoughtfully. "One two five three?"

"I imagine Uncle Severus could teach you your numbers quite well, petling, and likely your a-b-c's, too," Narcissa laughed, reaching to soothe the fluff upon his head to lay back down. It didn't last that way for long before it was waving in its extraordinarily fine, fuzzy way again.

"Yes, yes, all three of them. I'll conjure you some blocks, though you likely have four or five sets of them, don't you?" Severus smiled at Narcissa, understanding how Draco could so effortlessly make them all doormats for his spoiled whims. "I can tell it takes a lot to keep up with him, doesn't it?"

"Two," Draco agreed, nodding at him. "Draco have two."

"Draco has six," Narcissa said with a laugh. "It's all we can do. Dobby runs after him madly, for Lucius will not allow him to stop running the kitchen. I do not know why he simply doesn't fetch another kitchen elf. Draco needs Dobby."

"Dobby can certainly be trusted to watch Draco," Severus agreed. "He's sharper than most of the house elves..." He shifted Draco up a little higher as they entered the dining hall, fingers still stroking over his thin back. "Lucius stays locked up in his study...?"

"Constantly," Narcissa agreed darkly, reaching to tug lightly at a small silver piece near the door to alert the elves that they were wanted. "He doesn't come out very often, not since.... well, not since then. He's been very worried, since then."

"Worried why?"

"He never wants to go back there again. He never wants you to go back there again, even though he doesn't speak with you," she said as elves hurried out, placing dessert on the table along with Draco's bib and a sealed cup of milk to go with Severus and Narcissa's bitter coffee. "He doesn't want Draco to ever know."

"Draco knows," Draco said firmly, nodding. "Draco knows lots."

"Of course you do, baby," Severus murmured as he set Draco into a chair that was locked onto the edge of the table. It wasn't a humoring tone of voice that he used with the child; Draco probably did know a lot, even though just as much probably slipped his mind.

The little boy preened for him for a moment before reaching for the dish full of chocolate, brownies and syrup of some sort. "Sefrus loves Draco," he decided, reaching to put his fingers in the stuff.

Thank Merlin for cleaning spells, because that was going to be an awful mess. Severus just nodded to Draco's comment, as he sat down beside him, looking over to Narcissa. She'd certainly softened, which was a blessing. "Lucius is still angry at me for betraying, isn't he?"

She smiled at him, shrugged. "He is angry over many things. Over you, over Azkaban, over the Ministry. He wishes very much to make them take back the things they say in secret, though they accepted the Imperius argument. You understand him. Humility, humiliation, it is not an easy thing for him."

"I know." And they still hadn't 'ended it' as Lucius had so aptly phrased it before. They'd just stopped. And perhaps... Severus picked up his fork, and stabbed it into the chocolate, brownie, and then through a little of the ice cream on his plate. "Perhaps some day he'll forgive me."

"Perhaps," Narcissa agreed.

But she really didn't have any hope for it.

---

"SEVERUS!" It was the yelp of a wild man, or at least one very wild six year old who still ran straight at him the way he had when he was only a toddler, hair flying and arms outstretched to be lifted up. "It's my birthday! Did you get me a good present!?" Draco was sure that Severus had. Severus always brought good presents.

"No, I completely forgot about your birthday, Draco," Severus lied as he bent to catch Draco, and pull him up close. "Uff, you keep getting bigger!"

"Dobby keeps feeding me more!" Draco declared, wrapping himself around Severus with arms and legs, clutching tightly. "And I'm older! You haven't been to see me since this summer! I missed you!"

"I've been teaching -- I don't know if I can steal a weekend between now and the holidays, Draco, but I'll certainly be back at Christmas to see you..." Which wasn't very far away. "What've your parents gotten you? You must show me that first, Draco, in case I've gotten you the same thing that they have."

"Bet you didn't!" Draco replied, hugging him tightly. "You get me cool stuff! I love my potions set!" That was what Severus had given him for his fifth birthday, one that came with fairly innocuous ingredients and easy mixtures. Draco had been delighted.

Lucius hadn't been, but Severus had to come to expect that more often than not. "Sometimes, Draco, I believe you only want me to visit for the gifts you get," Severus chided gently, tapping Draco's back lightly before he slid the boy to the ground, and grasped his hand. "Show me your other gifts, first, then you'll get the one I've brought you."

The blond boy grinned at him, knowing that Severus's words weren't true. They were just, well... Severus. "Come on! Come to my room and I'll show you!" he said, grabbing Snape's hand and tugging.

The black-clad man followed, shutting the door and winter's bite behind him and out of the house -- where it belonged. "How've your mother and father been, Draco...?"

"Mummy's taken up gardening," Draco told him primly, hurrying towards the stairs. "She says Daddy would make good fertilizer if he'd just try. Or maybe die. I'm not sure which."

"Ahh..." Severus's brows furrowed for a moment, as they turned a corner quickly, too; Severus was glad of his long legs because Draco still raced to get where he wanted to be. "And your father?"

"Daddy says that if she wasn't such a witch, she wouldn't need fertilizer. Do Muggles not need fertilizer, then? Or I think he said witch. They were very loud," Draco whispered, pausing in front of the door two down from the nursery. "You want to see my present? You're sure?"

"I'm very sure," Severus assured him sincerely. "I hope you ignore your parents when they're being loud -- I'd consider it best."

"I think they're funny," Draco said with a shrug, and pushed open the door.

His present was obvious from the first moment -- it was a very different room than the one that Draco had shown him the year before, given him for his fifth birthday. This one had windows stretched all along an entire wall, no curtains, and animated drawings of dragons that flew over the walls or lazed in the sunlight, any of half a dozen things. They were all colors, all types, and were set off by the bed that looked like nothing more than a hillock of grass until one wandered up to it and saw the mattress hidden within it. Dolly was proudly seated upon the pillows.

"Mummy bought me lots of chocolates, too," Draco said proudly, nodding. "And she said that she'd start teaching me about Veela soon. What are Veela, Severus?"

"Veela..." Severus sighed, looking at the boy who was dearest to him out of all the children he dealt with. It was necessary, and even better, there would be no Tom to hurt Draco. And he, Lucius and Narcissa were all alive and well, to see Draco growing up to be a perfectly spoiled little boy. "Your father's part Veela, and so is your mother -- it's a type of beautiful magical creature, Draco."

"Does that mean I can be Veela when I grow up?" Draco asked him, frowning thoughtfully. "Are Veela human?"

"Not really. They're..." Severus laid a gentle hand on Draco's shoulder. "They're magical creatures, you see."

"Oh." That was said most thoughtfully. "Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Will I still be Veela when I grow up? A magical creature, then?"

"Very much so. Both of your parents are, but you can't tell, can you? It's a subtle thing," Severus said, as he pulled a scroll, and a box seemingly out of thin air.

"Ohhh!" That was as much in response to the box as anything else. "Is that my present? Can I open it?"

"Now, this is a gift for bigger boys, so I expect you to be responsible with them both. This scroll..." Severus handed it to Draco with a vaguely wicked smile, "That scroll has a list of what flowers and roots from your mother's garden, and in what order, will turn you various colors if you chew on them."

The boy drew in a deep breath, pure delight. "LOTS of colors!" he whispered reverently, reading the list. Severus had taught him his numbers and letters the summer Draco was two, and the boy had taken to reading everything he could get. Lucius had been required to go through the library and rearrange a good half of the texts to keep them from falling into Draco's hands before he was old enough to read them.

He had cursed a great deal.

Severus had laughed.

"You're wonderful!" Draco declared happily.

"Ah, ah, don't forget the box," Severus breathed, handing it over with seemingly vague reluctance.

"Is it even better than this?" Draco asked him, tearing automatically at ribbons and silvery paper, laughing as the box itself fell open beneath his fingertips to reveal his gift. "WOW!"

In his hands were two wooden figurines, and a tiny wand between them. The wood was smooth, bland, with an unbelievable amount of joints. And there was a piece of parchment laid atop them, that read, "Enchant the dolls with their special wand to make them look like anyone!"

Severus smirked a bit as he looked at Draco's delight. "It's a bit of a game -- you have to concentrate very hard to make them look proper. And they're enchanted to carry through simple motions that you imply with their positions."

Entranced, he pulled the figures from the box and took the little wand and tapped the first one, giving it long black hair and robes and a too-large nose and a smile. Severus's students would have found that absurd and frightening. "There. Now I can always have you with me!"

"You're a flatterer, Draco -- always use that to the best of your advantage," Severus whispered, kneeling to properly kiss the boy on his temple. It was a delight to be in his presence, the one large mark that he'd left in the world. Draco had been of his issue, hadn't he? His to watch over, and feel vague anger over Draco's biological parents being so wrapped up in themselves.

"Dobby made cake. He said he made you the special one that you like with the buttercream and all of the powdered sugar. He said you'd be coming today. Daddy yelled at him and then Dobby ironed his hands." Silvery eyes rolled with impatience. "Dobby ought not to listen to Daddy. He's my elf. Mummy's out in the garden. Do you want to see her?"

"Yes, I think I do -- and I'll show you how to turn yourself Blue, I believe. That's the most complicated one of that list I've given you." Hopefully they wouldn't find Narcissa in the backyard magically wielding a shovel to dig a six foot deep hole.

With a laugh, the little boy grabbed his hand and hurried towards the door, tugging at him. "Come on, come on! She's already in the garden! Hurry!"

Draco's enthusiasm delighted Severus -- once, he and Lucius had been like that, hadn't they? Once... "I'm hurrying, Draco!"

They rushed down the steps, Draco running all the way, and by the time they were out in the magically protected garden, he was just a little breathless. "Mummy!!"

"I'm here, mon petite, I'm.. Oh! Severus! We hadn't expected you so early!" Narcissa said, spade in hand, the funniest hat upon her head to keep the sun off of it.

"Severus is going to teach me how to turn blue!"

"You haven't buried Lucius yet, have you?" Severus drawled, clutching at Draco's hand gently as they walked, more calmly, over to her.

"Tempting as it seems, I am afraid I have not yet done so," Narcissa replied, her smile turning slightly stiff. "He seems to be off with Draco's tutor, a brilliant young man who is quite too pretty for his own good."

Severus's own expression faltered sharply, pulled up only as he squeezed Draco's hand and murmured, "Go to those bushes over there and scrape a bit of rose bark, all right? Then get two cherry blossom leaves, and a blossom of wormwood." It would buy him a bit of time to speak with Narcissa.

The little boy cried out with excitement and ran off to do just as Severus had told him.

"So excitable," Narcissa sighed, and it obviously pleased her. "He loves to learn. If only Lucius would keep away from the boys we bring to teach him, it would be much better all around."

"I could teach him," Severus sneered a bit suddenly, "And then that wouldn't be a problem."

Her hand touched his arm gently. "You could, but then what would you do about your school, Severus? I know you love teaching at Hogwarts."

"Love may be an overstatement...." He sighed, glancing down at what she was planting -- more exotic flowers, each of them with their beauty masking the more functional properties. "Can't you get a witch to tutor him?"

A short laugh spilled from his cousin's wife. "Do you honestly think he would allow such a thing? No. No, and no, and no. I tried," she admitted. "I have replaced no less than seven tutors since he was four. Seven."

"Once upon a time, Lucius was a mostly monogamous creature." Severus knelt for a moment, and dug a nail into dried sap on a branch in the bush before him. Weepingroot sap was the last ingredient Draco would need to be blue. "I can barely recall that, anymore, though it probably wasn't more than eight years ago." When they were still in school -- and things had changed so much, despite them all being very young still.

"Sometimes, I wonder what happened to him. If it, whatever it is, was our fault, yours and mine," she sighed. "Others, I know. I know it wasn't. It cannot be. And still he spills vitriolicism and anger and tells Draco things that really, no child should hear..."

"Tom sank into him and ruined what he used to be." And Lucius his lover, his protector and caring support, was no more. It was funny how Severus found himself missing Lucius the worst when he was in Malfoy Manor. "What has he been telling Draco?"

"Oh, that sort of trash. Muggles and Mudbloods and hatred and pride, but never the good sort," she replied, mouth turning to a smile as Draco hurried back, flushed and excited. "Well, hello. Do you have everything you need now, sweet dragon?"

"I have it all!" Draco blurted out, holding out his hands to Severus. He knew flowers quite well, since his mother had taken up her gardening. She gave him lessons on Saturday since he couldn't find his tutor most weekends. It was partly to keep him from finding his tutor, since the young man was likely to be found bent over a desk somewhere, with Lucius groaning atop him.

"Then this is the last ingredient you'll need," Severus said, holding up the finger that had dried sap on it. "Take this first, hold it under your tongue."

Obediently enough, Draco opened his mouth and let Severus slip the sap in place. It made him giggle, just as the further instructions of what to do with each flower made him laugh, and it was quite a wonder that he managed to complete the matter at all. But he was very shortly a vibrant shade of blue right down to the tips of his toes and the baby fine white-blond of his hair. "I'm BLUE!" he bellowed the obvious, dancing around Severus and his mother in delight. "Blue, blue, blue!"

"Yes, you're perfectly blue," Severus grinned, patting Draco's back gently. For a moment, he glanced around the garden that was spelled constantly into summer warmth with a bubble that resisted the snow outside -- a pocket of warm perfection tucked away in ice and wind. Lips curled almost painfully, Severus kissed Draco's blue forehead. "I think since you've mastered this one, that the rest will be just as easy to learn."

Laughter sounded again, stick-thin arms wrapping tightly about his neck. "I want cake. Let's take Severus and have cake, Mummy?" Draco said, peering up at Narcissa.

"Of course, darling," she agreed, abandoning her spade and hat for later in the afternoon. "Come along, Severus, and we'll have cake. I'm told this one is especially your favorite," she tempted.

It would be if recalling the last time he'd had it didn't turn his stomach. "Oh, particularly. I can't see why Lucius would yell at Dobby to the point that he ironed his hands because of it. It's only a very sweet, good cake that I'm sure Draco will like." Severus stood, clutching his blue almost son close to carry him.

"I'm afraid that Dobby takes everything Lucius says to heart. You know how they both are," Narcissa explained weakly as they moved towards the dining room.

"Can we have ice cream, too?" Draco asked, tilting his head to the side. He'd always loved ice cream.

"Strawberry, I think would suit the cake best, if your mother will allow it..."

"Strawberry is his favorite," Narcissa agreed.

By the time they arrived in the dining room, cake and strawberry ice cream had been set out at three separate places, though it quickly became obvious that Draco didn't want his own. "I want to sit with Severus!"

"You do...?" Severus's eyebrows arched as he let Draco slip down to stand on his own. The boy was still very, very blue. "Don't you want your own cake?"

"Yes," Draco decided, "but can't I have my cake and sit with you?"

"I..." Severus looked at Narcissa for a decision either way.

"Of course you can if that's what you want, sweetling. Just be very careful not to spill on Severus, all right?"

"I don't spill!" Draco declared, sounding slightly put out by the mere suggestion.

"I'd hope the birthday gift I gave you last year gave you steady hands," Severus purred as he sat down and then pulled Draco up into his lap. Over the summer, they'd spent more than enough hours in the odd moments when he was there playing with the 'toy' potions set.

"Well..." Draco started, then bit his lip and looked at him a bit sheepishly, holding his spoon. "Sort of. But Daddy..."

Severus slid Draco's plate of cake over onto his place mat. "Your father...?"

"Daddy smacked me," he said simply, "because I said I wanted to be like you when I grew up, but then I blew up my bedroom with the potions set you gave me. He said I'm not smart enough to be like you, and blowing things up wasn't nice. I told him that since I'm just like him, it's no wonder I shan't be as smart as you." Draco looked thoughtful. "That was when he smacked me."

Narcissa held back laughter. "That's because your Daddy doesn't want you to know Uncle Severus is smarter than he."

"I thought everyone knew that," the little boy replied primly, and began eating his cake and ice cream.

Severus choked back a laugh, but entirely unable to push back his slow smile. "You're brilliant, Draco -- and don't let your father's jealousy teach you otherwise." At least brilliantly quick witted, which certainly had its place in the world.

The little boy beamed up at him. "I knew you'd say that," he decided, nodding firmly. "I wish you were my tutor. Mr. Humfuddle isn't half as smart as you are."

"Mr. Humfuddle's brains probably aren't actually in his head. It's very likely that he stores them elsewhere." Severus cut a bite from his own piece of cake, chewing and enjoying the frosting with an obvious relish.

"Where else would a man keep his brain?" Draco asked, obviously confused.

"I'll tell you one day," Narcissa informed him, cheeks slightly flushed.

"But I want to know now!"

He spent too much time around teenagers, Severus decided as he looked down to the boy in his lap. "In his bottom, of course. It's not a good place to keep a brain, though."

That broke the child out in giggles again, skin now only a teal blue as the color was slowly wearing off of him. "No wonder it doesn't work well! It's getting all squashed!"

"That's exactly your tutor's problem," Severus agreed. "So, he isn't really thinking. But when you come to Hogwarts, you'll have good teachers with brains that are up in their skulls where they should be." Severus himself certainly wasn't thinking with his groin; he hadn't had non-solo sex in years.

"Can I come with you now? I want to go now," Draco decided, looking up at him hopefully. He hadn't spilled on Severus, but there was a bit of icing on his cheek, and he looked so very expectant.

"Perhaps over the summer you could visit... That's where I spend the summer when I'm not here." Because the terms of his release had dictated that he be easily accessible at all times during the next ten years. Essentially under watch.

"But I want to go now!" Draco protested, shifting to set an elbow on the table, and incidentally almost in his cake. "Can't I go now?"

"Severus has to teach a lot of much older children, Draco. You don't like other children very much," Narcissa reminded him gently.

"But I like Severus," he said.

"In the summer," he reiterated firmly, "and we'll have to ask your father."

Draco slumped. "I'll never get to go," he moaned pitifully, grey eyes shimmering as he turned most distinctly pitiful.

"Now, sweetling, that's not true. Your father gives you everything you want," Narcissa objected.

"He won't let me go see Severus. I ask all the time!"

"Mmm. I'll ask this time and save you the trouble," Severus promised, prodding at the hand of Draco's that held his fork. "When you're done here, in fact."

"Promise?" Draco asked him, picking up his fork and eating more cake obediently.

"Of course. There's no reason that I wouldn't. While I ask him, I'd like for you to try to find the ingredients for... hmn, fuchsia," he decided, taking a forkful of cake and ice cream to his mouth.

"I'd look funny, fuchsia," Draco declared, putting down his own fork. He'd had enough of cake and ice cream, and his little belly was almost bulging with it, or felt like it was. "Can I go find the things now?"

Severus hadn't had enough, though he nodded and patted Draco lightly as the boy slid off his lap. "You do that, and I'll immediately start to look for your father."

Happily enough, Draco leaned up and kissed his cheek, heading back outside at a run.

"You and I both know Lucius won't allow it," Narcissa said softly, putting her fork down on the table. "He'll be heartbroken."

"Perhaps I can talk him into it," Severus sighed as he stood, picking up plate and fork. He was damn well going to finish the cake as he walked. "Where was Lucius last?"

"You can try the library," she suggested quietly. "But do be careful. Humfuddle's likely to be in there, as well, and probably naked, the debauched little twit."

"How old is the 'tutor'...?"

"Nineteen, I believe. A Hufflepuff. Only a Hufflepuff would be stupid enough to bed Lucius, these days."

Dark eyes rolled, but Severus nodded. "True, sadly. Tell Draco I love him if Lucius kicks me out after I scare his toy." Severus promptly set off out of the dining hall towards the library. He could hear the sounds of sex coming from within before he ever thought to open the door; didn't Lucius even care enough about his child to cast a silencing spell? Sometimes, Severus wondered.

He laid the plate and fork, now both clean of food, just outside the door to the side where he knew a house-elf would get it. A pity for Lucius to sully the library so. Severus wished that there was some few good memories left to him that hadn't been stomped on. For just a moment, Severus paused, then he flung the library door open and calmly entered.

The Hufflepuff yelped -- Humfuddle, Hufflepuff, how remarkably entertaining -- and that drew Lucius's attention. "What do you want, Severus?" he snapped out, grey eyes suddenly blazing.

"Oh, just a moment to talk with you," Severus declared as he closed the door behind him, and paced to sit down in the chair that was behind the desk that Humfuddle was currently being fucked across. "Carry on. I can wait."

"No, I...!" The Hufflepuff's protest didn't make much difference, Lucius lazily flexing his hips in response to Severus's words.

"Don't bother to wait," Lucius said. "We can talk now."

"I'd forgotten that the only way to get you to pay attention to anything is to get you off." Severus folded his arms lazily, looking blandly at them both. The knife that felt as if it were digging into his lungs didn't matter, didn't effect his voice or the emptiness of his eyes. "I'd like for Draco -- you recall, your son, the boy who's eating his birthday cake while you're in here fucking? -- to visit with me this summer."

"No."

Simple reply, expected answer, cruel. So unlike the Lucius with whom he'd fallen in love, but Lucius hadn't been that Lucius for a very long time.

"Please, I don't want to do..."

"Shut up," Lucius told Humfuddle coldly. "Severus has seen this before, and done worse, haven't you, Severus?"

"Without question I've done worse," Severus drawled tiredly. "Tell me why you say 'no', Lucius."

"Because you're a traitor, Severus. Because you've lied to me. Because you will lead him down a garden path and abandon him there and I will not have that happen." Each word was accentuated with a grind of hip, a pinch of fingers, never mind the yelps of the boy beneath him.

"What garden path, and my lying to you saved you from a fate similar to Sirius Black's," Severus growled. "I never betrayed you, despite all of the madness you've shown me since."

"Didn't you?" Lucius asked him, and it was obvious from the expression on his face that he felt otherwise. "We've been over this repeatedly, Severus. The answer is no. You're welcome on his birthday, at Christmas, those few weekends you come during the summer. But other than that... No."

Severus was smiling darkly as he stood from his chair, leaned across the desk and grabbed a handful of the younger man's hair to inspect his face. "Hmn... I'd trust you not to hire a tutor who failed potions in his last year of school."

"Ow... Ow, please stop, please, please..." Humfuddle was weeping, and it was no surprise when Lucius pulled out of him and took that handful of hair, as well.

"I was told that you passed everything!?" Lucius spat out angrily.

"Blowjobs make poor background checks," Severus sneered, letting go of the younger man's hair.

"Severus, you smug bastard, get out of my house," Lucius snarled, buttoning his pants. "And you, stop all of that crying. You're severed, and without pay."

Severus made no motion to leave; he just continued to loom behind the desk, looking at Lucius. "I'm not leaving until you tell me that Draco can visit me over the summer."

"Oh, bloody hell. All right. For a week. Now, get out!"

"As enjoyable to speak with you as being cooked alive, Lucius -- as always. Have a nice afternoon." And with that, the Potions master of Hogwarts strolled from the library, closing the door behind him.

---

"Hello, Severus." That was quite different from the greetings he'd always gotten in years before, a little tired, a lot sad, and Draco had a large, purple bruise on one cheekbone.

"Draco...? What happened to you?" He didn't think he'd ever seen Draco bruised, unless it was from tripping -- and why would the bruise still be there? It could be spell healed. Severus hurried the boy back into the house, and out of the November iciness.

"This boy at school smacked me this morning," Draco told him miserably. "Daddy's already called two of his friends to see if their sons will keep it from happening again. I don't want to go to school any more."

"No, Draco, you should go to school..." Severus walked him over to chairs just inside the hallway, and sat Draco down. "Hold still, and I'll spell this away."

"Daddy said it was best if I remember it, because all Weasleys are horrible, rotten, nasty gits who ought to be castrated at birth. What's castrated?" Draco asked him, looking up to him as if fully aware that Severus held all of the answers.

"It means that anything between their legs is cut off, so they can't make any more of their bloodline. Now, keeping a bruise like that to remember something is just not done, Draco." Turning towards Draco on the chair, one leg folded up under him, Severus flicked his wand free, the other hand cupping Draco's chin gently. "Hold still for me."

Those grey eyes closed and Draco waited patiently, mouth trembling just a little until he felt the wash of magic against his face. "I hate school," he said again. "Why can't I just stay somewhere you are and let just you teach me? I'd like that. You're so much fun."

"After your tenth birthday, Draco -- I promise, you'll be at Hogwarts with me. And you'll be with me in the summer when your father lets you visit again... So you'll already know all the places in the school, so no one will be able to get the upper hand on you." He slid his wand away, but his hand on Draco's cheek lingered, gentle.

Those argent eyes opened, and for a moment, all Severus could see was Lucius as he used to be. "That seems so far away. And what if all of the people at Hogwarts are like the people at this stupid primary school? I don't know why I can't have tutors anymore..."

"Some of them might be, Draco, but you'll make friends..." Like he and Lucius had? Draco didn't need friends like that. "And I'll be there. At Hogwarts, the students are separated into four 'houses', you know. No Weasley will sort into the same house as you, trust me."

"Really? So I won't have to be anywhere near them at all? He made fun of me," Draco said, lower lip poking out. "He said I was an albino and he made fun of me because of Dolly. I was just telling Pansy that I had her, it's not like I brought her with me or anything..."

Severus leaned closer, and whispered conspiratorially, "Draco, Weasley has as many siblings as he has freckles, and they all live in a ramshackle house in the middle of Muggles. He's only jealous of you."

"Really?" Draco asked him, a look of sheer delight crossing his face. "So he's really poor and he's probably just jealous that I have a Dolly and he doesn't! Oh, that's rich!" he decided, now quite a bit happier as his arms snuck around Severus's neck. "Thank you, Severus!"

Severus hugged the small frame close to him for a moment. "It's rich, and true. So far I've taught five Weasleys, and I suspect that there are probably two more to follow," he sighed as he stroked Draco's back. "Don't ever take him seriously."

"I promise," Draco agreed, melting disturbingly into that touch. "Hmmm. Daddy's gone today. He had business in Town, he said, but Mummy's here. Did you bring me a present? It's my birthday, I know that's why you've come!"

"I always come on your birthdays, don't I, baby Dragon?" he teased softly. None of his students would've believed he was capable of it, just as none of the students he'd gone to school with would've believed him capable of being as sweet to Lucius as he was. Special sides saved for people that deserved to get them and not a curse thrown at them.

"You've never missed one!" Draco agreed excitedly, still clinging to him even as Severus stood. "Did you get me something as wonderful as always?" He still had the lists of flowers that turned one different colors and his little figurines, transfigured with the tiny wand to look like Severus and himself. There were easily half a dozen more gifts that he kept still and played with often.

And his dolly, of course. "I think that I have... but you'll have to tell me what your parents got you this year, first."

"Daddy hasn't given me anything, yet. He said that would be a surprise when he comes home tomorrow," Draco informed him primly. "Mummy got me a new spell for my room, one especially for me. She worked hard on it. Do you want to see?"

"Yes, show me." It was part of the ritual that was Draco's birthday, being taken up to the boy's room to be shown the new decorations, or look, and giving him his gift there. At least if it was something 'fun', the damage was in a controlled area.

His hand was taken carefully, and Draco tugged at him, moving with a slower pace than he usually had. Until this year, he'd still gone everywhere running, so it seemed rather odd not to be forced to hurry along with him. "It's awfully nice. Mummy says that it's a perfect place for Veela, if I were full-blooded and not just half." Lucius, after all, was a quarter Veela, and Narcissa three quarters.

"Has your mother taught you much about Veela yet?" Severus easily kept to Draco's slower pace, clutching at Draco's fingers with a definite pressure.

Draco nodded. "She said that they're almost always women and that's why she had such a hard time having me, because Veela don't bear boys often. And she said that they're exquisitely beautiful and have control over men, but when you encounter their True Anger, it's very dangerous. She's taught me a lot about the True Anger."

"I don't believe that your father was Veela enough to do that -- can you?" Severus asked in curiosity. There was no need to remark on Draco's birth, because over the years he'd heard more than enough remarking on the subject by Narcissa and himself.

"Mummy says maybe. She says I probably don't have the wings, but that the rest of it shows in the sharpness of features when I get angry. She's trying to teach me control of that, because she says there are other things I won't be able to control later." He paused at the door to his room, looked up, and gave Severus a smile. "Ready?"

Severus knew well enough what it would be that Draco wouldn't be able to control, the poor boy. Hopefully he'd find just one sweet, obliging girl or boy, and Severus wouldn't have to have any students expelled. "I'm ready."

That said, Draco pushed open the door and stepped inside, his smile coming up quickly as he moved inside. "See? In the corner."

The room had once again been magically expanded, and in one corner opposite the door resided a babbling brook surrounded by rocks and trees, perfect perches for Veela or young boys who liked to climb things. Dragons still wheeled in flight along the walls, but now the ceiling above mimicked the night sky constantly. The previous wall of windows had turned to a grey seascape.

"Do you like it?" Draco asked him hesitantly.

It was darker, certainly, but it was intricate and beautiful. There was nothing to fear in the darkness of decorum, after all, because it was mystical and intriguing. "Your mother was right, Draco -- it's perfect for Veela. Beautiful, beautiful as ever." His own gifts seemed paled in comparison.

"Can I have my present now?" Draco asked him, pleading for it, almost. "Your presents are always my favorite ones."

"Two gifts," Severus smiled, handing over the first which he had to bring back to usual size after he pulled it from his cloak's sleeve. "This one is a book -- that I think you're ready to read."

"Two?" he asked excitedly, taking the book from him. The image on the front brought a distinct crimson stain to pale cheeks, grey eyes becoming huge before he looked up at Severus. "This is....?" The words 'oh, dear' seemed indelibly etched in those eyes.

"It's a book that I believe you're old enough to have... considering," Severus murmured softly as he glanced for a moment at the cover of the Veela, Voluptuous Vixens of the Wizarding World book. Two male Veela were entwined on the front doing things that had likely made Severus blush at eleven.

Draco supposed the correct thing to say would have been thank you; but the more he looked at it, the more he thought that he had other questions. "Ew, he's putting that where!?"

Severus couldn't help but smile as he reached to take the book from Draco, and set it on a shelf. "Maybe... maybe you shouldn't read it until you're just a bit older, Draco. Your other gift is something you'll appreciate more, I'm sure..."

Still, those eyes trailed after the book, thoughtful for a moment. "For now," he agreed before turning back to look up at Severus with a smile. It wasn't the grin of previous years, but it was still happy to see him, happy to be with him. "What else is it??"

Severus pulled a tiny box from his pocket, and held it to Draco. "Now, I know your father got you a broom, but I think you need this." Considering that Lucius was probably getting Draco a better broom that year, his gift would be even better.

"What is it?" Draco whispered, not yet tugging at the wrappings and ribbon. He'd begun to greatly enjoy the act of opening his presents from Severus, and it made him smile just to hold it.

"Something I've had enchanted especially for you," Severus promised him, lips curled in a genuinely pleased smile. "I know you like to go to Quidditch games."

With a startled little hitch of breath, Draco ripped open the present, letting out the chrome and blue object that fluttered in front of him until his fingers reached out and snatched it from the air. "It's a snitch!" he cried in delight, flinging himself at Severus. "I love you, Severus!"

The professor laughed softly, hugged Draco close. "Now, if you can't catch it within two hours, it'll return to the box -- that way it won't be lost like some snitches tend to do. And I'm glad you like it."

"I love it!" Draco declared with an obvious delight, laying his head against Severus's neck. "Will you go outside and help me find it, later? I know it's cold and I know you'll say I shouldn't go out in it..." The likelihood of lung inflammation was still too much of a possibility for any of the adults in his life to let him go outside during the winter months. "But please?"

"Garden only," Severus told him. That was magically warmed, of course, and he knew how Draco had to yearn to go play in the snow, but it wasn't to be. It was bad enough that he'd been sitting on the front steps near chill winds when Severus had arrived.

"Come on, then!" The boy was excited again, familiar. "Daddy's got an extra broom, I know it!"

"You'll have to let go of my neck, you know," Severus chided softly, kissing Draco's cheek as he straightened up. "I've a broom of my own that I brought with me, you know -- I can just use that."

The little boy was utterly unrepentant as he scrounged his own broom out of the closet -- one that definitely wasn't a toy broom like the one Severus had given him when he was four. "Hurry, then!" he said with a smile. "I want you to play with me! Then maybe later I'll look at your other present..."

"I'll meet you in the garden," Severus promised him as he walked out into the hallway, and half-jogged back towards the front hallway, where he'd left his broom.

"Severus!" He was halfway down the stairs when Narcissa's voice reached him, a bit tired, but mostly glad to see him. "I should have expected you today. You're a bit early. Goodness, has Draco already shown you his room, then?"

"Yes, and he now has a copy of 'Voluptuous Veela' to go with it," Severus drawled as he finished going down the stairs and met Narcissa with a faint hug. "How are you?"

"Fine," she said, though it seemed not quite the truth. "Lucius has been so upset since that Weasley boy hit him yesterday. He's gone to complain to Arthur, and you know they don't get along at all. 'Veela, Voluptuous Vixens of the Wizarding World', you mean?" Narcissa paused. "Yes. I suppose it's almost time for that. My, they grow up so fast..." she said wistfully.

"He's mellowing out a little," Severus noted, because it vaguely disturbed him. He moved to the door, and plucked up his broom from the stand the house elves had stuck it in.

"Mmmm, he doesn't like school. Most of the other children are bigger than he is, even some of the girls, and he feels out of place. It's Lucius's fault for teaching him all of that Muggle and Mudblood nonsense so early," she said, "and he wouldn't let me fix the bruise on his face after yesterday."

"I fixed it today," Severus murmured, shaking the bristles of his broom out. "And Draco and I are going to play in the garden with the snitch I brought him."

That seemed to be the cue for the nine year old to come looking for him. "Mummy, you're keeping Severus from me!"

She laughed and turned to smile at him. "Well, since I know how you dislike sharing, I suppose I shall let the two of you go play, hm?"

"Tell Lucius he has excellent timing, being gone when I'm here," Severus told her with a bitter twist of his mouth, though he smiled again when he looked to Draco. "Let's go!"

"You promise you won't just let me catch it, right?" Draco made him swear on their way out into the garden.

"I can't control a snitch, Draco -- it controls itself! If you can't catch it within two hours, though, it'll fly back to its box," Severus smirked. "And, your father was the Seeker for our team. I was just a catcher."

Thoughtfully, grey eyes snuck a look at him. "What do I get if I win?" he asked, and there was a little smirk sneaking around the edges of his lips.

"My cake?" Severus smiled, as he closed the garden door behind them both.

"But I'll already have mine!" Draco pointed out to him, a sly expression dancing beneath white blond lashes. "I think I should get to choose what I get if I win!"

It'd probably be another exotic, odd toy of the sort that only Severus could manage to procure, but it was within his range, so he nodded. "Fine -- and we can discuss it if you win."

"I'll be sure to," Draco decided smugly, and promptly called his broom up, releasing the snitch.

Severus called his own up, and hovered on it, waiting for Draco to go after the teasingly lingering dart of blue that hung in the air before them for a moment, before it raced off.

They spent a lazy hour no more than ten feet off the ground, skirting the tops of Narcissa's flowering bushes and plants, toes skimming lightly along the occasional branch. Every now and then, the snitch would come out of hiding and dart right back beneath a bush again, and they were both laughing delightedly by the time that it flew up again, perfectly between them. It seemed almost to be a second thought, the way that Draco's hand darted out between them and snatched the thing out of the air.

"I WIN!" he yelled, so excited he nearly fell off of his broom. "I win, I win! I caught it!"

"Perfect!" Severus declared in startlement, guiding his broom to land in a vacant row of the garden with Draco right behind him. "Keep practicing, and I'm sure you'll soon be able to best your father..."

Draco beamed at him. "Plus, I just won the opportunity of having you stay for the night. Say you will, Severus, please say you'll stay!"

"Stay for the night...? Draco, I believe your father might kill me if I did..."

"Please, oh, please? I miss you so much, you're gone all the time, Severus..."

Severus took the snitch from Draco, tucked it into the case carefully. "I'll stay the night, but I'll have to leave early tomorrow so that I won't miss the first class of the day."

The boy launched himself at the Potions master, arms wrapping tightly about his waist. "Oh, thank you, thank you, I'll be so good!" he promised. "I'll be so good. Come on and let's have cake!"

Cake, and a night in Malfoy Manor... Severus's lips curled slowly, as he walked back into the Manor with Draco wrapped about his waist, a broom in one hand and the snitch's box in the other.

The little things made life worth living.

Potions class.

Brilliant, beautiful, exquisite potions.

Potions... and Severus.

Draco had never been happier.

Oh, he'd been delighted to get his letter to Hogwarts, ecstatic that he'd get to see Severus every day, no matter how it irked his father. He'd also received letters from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, but Narcissa had put her foot down most firmly and insisted that she would not have her baby boy any farther away from her than Hogwarts. She knew how Draco adored Severus and how he'd looked forward to nothing more than this, sitting in Potions class and being surrounded by the pure essence that was Severus at his most sarcastic, leering self. It was only made better by the fact that the Potions master so obviously hated Harry Potter, the boy who'd humiliated and hurt Draco by refusing him the day before.

Life, he decided, was very, very good.

Severus was a wonderful Head of House to the Slytherins, too -- open, welcoming to them, offering to help or speak with them at most any hour of the day, telling them where his work-rooms and office could be found. He was intimidating, swept up in black robes that Draco had seen him occasionally wearing on birthday visits. The outer ones tucked away the slim form that Draco knew the professor had, knew from hugs and his own constant clinging when he could.

There was nothing his father could do to stop him from being around Severus.

"It's a pity that you're wasting air in this classroom, Mister Potter. I've half a mind to send you outside -- I think you're draining the intelligence from your fellow Gryffindors," Severus lashed out in his soft syrupy drawl of words as he turned away from them all. "This class is a practical, where you'll be taught the practicalities of potions making. And whether you wish to learn or not, I will drill knowledge into even the most puny of your minds."

Draco was in heaven. It was complete bliss, and by the time class had let out for the day and all of those ridiculously brave Gryffindors had stumbled from the room complaining, he was purely glowing with delight.

"You're so wonderful!" he whispered to Severus over his work table as even the last of the Slytherins left. "I never knew it would be like this! I wish I had been here forever!" It was an enthusiasm that he hadn't shown at all since his arrival, and Severus was glad to see it from him again.

Hogwarts would do Draco good, just as it had done Severus himself good in his childhood. Since there was no Lucius to protect the boy, the Slytherin Head of House would simply step into that place. Crabbe and Goyle were there, amusingly like their fathers, but Draco wasn't a copy of his father's personality, thank Merlin. "You'll be here most of the year until you're an adult," Severus reminded him, swirling a carefully flask that he'd poured two potions into. "This is your lunch hour, isn't it, Draco?"

"Yes," Draco agreed, perhaps impolitely dropping the professor and sir that he ought to have used. "I'm not hungry. I want to stay here with you, instead." He was too excited yet to be hungry or to want anything more than Severus's presence.

"I'm attempting to finish this batch of pepper up for Madam Pomfrey, however..." Severus set aside the flask that he was swirling, and gave Draco most of his attention. "It can wait a few moments more. Would you care to join me in my office for tea and sandwiches?"

"Yes, thank you," the boy said most politely, beaming up at him in his joy. "May we have cucumber and ham, please?" He was most particularly fond of that sort of sandwich, spread with soft herbed cheese.

"Yes." Severus pushed his chair under the desk once he'd stood, and looked at Draco for a moment before beckoning him to follow. "I would suggest, however, that you don't mention this to your classmates. I've been short with a few of them who want to waste my free time with minor issues that they must learn how to solve for themselves."

Draco only laughed at that, following after him. "I suppose I could say that I have difficulty making ham sandwiches, but that'd get me laughed at for certain." A little grimace worked over his face. "Not like half of them aren't laughing at my name right now, anyway, thanks to that dratted patch-ridden Weasley."

"You've a proud name, Draco, worthy of your lineage. Not everyone gives their children muggle names like 'Ronald', remember," Severus told Draco as he pushed open his office door ahead of them.

"I just wish they wouldn't laugh," Draco admitted. "Though no one in Slytherin has, but it's only because they have names just as odd, so that's all right." He was quite happy to be in Slytherin. It was only natural that he should be. "I'm glad to be here with you instead of at Durmstrang like Father wanted. I'll bet no one would have laughed there, though."

"I'm surprised he was planning on sending you to Durmstrang, considering that he went here," Severus said as he closed the door behind them, and gestured for Draco to sit down across from his desk.

"He thinks it would 'toughen me up a bit', the whole stiff upper lip business," Draco answered airily, flinging himself loosely into the indicated chair. "Besides, I think he doesn't want me to see you. He's so selfish that way! He won't even talk to you, Severus! But he doesn't want me to, either."

"Your father's still angry with me over something I did not too long after you were born." That he should still be suffering for having cared was beyond his mind's reach, but Lucius of before wasn't the Lucius that he dealt with during those few visits he made each year. It hurt that he'd forgiven so much that Lucius had done that was wrong, but the one thing that he'd done, for unselfish reasons... Severus shook his head slightly as he magically requested lunch of the house elves.

"Why? I can't imagine ever being that angry with you," Draco decided as sandwiches and pumpkin juice popped into existence, hand reaching out for one of the halves and a napkin. "It seems silly."

"I like to think so, too, but... your father is still angry. He's not quite the same man that I met when I first came to Hogwarts." He poured a glass of pumpkin juice for Draco from the carafe, and then a glass for himself.

Grey eyes darted up, looking at him most seriously. "I'll always be the same Draco you know," he decided, mouth curving upwards, faintly traced with a certain lasciviousness that painted the future in the faint, sweet hollow above his lip, the delicious fullness of that smile.

Draco would, soon enough, be just as sexual a creature as his father had been at that age. Beautiful young men... Severus's mouth twitched a little, torn between smirking and frowning. "I hope that you're right. If you ever require assistance, Draco, or feel that you're in trouble... come to me. Please. I don't want you to become as your father has."

The smile didn't change. "I can't imagine ever going to anyone else," Draco said, nibbling at his sandwich thoughtfully. "You always have the proper answers, and I love you." It was said innocently, and if the meaning behind it was warping, Severus didn't notice.

Children loved. Normal, warmhearted children loved, even Malfoy children, even children whose fathers tried to teach them hate and only hate. And there was no way that Severus would dare taste the vaguely warped meaning, or risk rebuking Draco's words. "I love you, too, Draco -- and I'm glad you trust me enough to let me help you."

The boy took another bite of his sandwich, thoughtful as he chewed and swallowed before speaking again. "I don't know what I did to make Potter not like me. He likes Weasley well enough, and Weasley's nothing. He's a wretched creature and he's poor."

"It's a Potter flaw," Severus assured him as he poured a cup of tea for himself. "After all, his father's best friend led to his murder. That should say something about the taste that Harry Potter has inherited."

"Oh," Draco said thoughtfully. "Then I suppose I should feel pity for him, as he's obviously inherited stupidity, then. I don't," he decided. "But I suppose I had ought."

Then again, Draco's father and himself had been there to aid in the murder. That said a great deal, too, but Severus didn't mention that as he stirred two spoons of sugar into his tea. "How are your other classes, Draco? And the other students here. And your rooms. I'd like to know what you think about it all."

"Well...it's not exactly home, and sleeping with four other boys is a tad odd, isn't it? But I got the biggest bed of them all. It's almost as if they knew I'd tumble out of a smaller one," Draco said thoughtfully. "I like the rough hewn appearance of things. It's... It's like... It's texture," he said, the feel of the word good upon his tongue. "It's not smooth like home. I like it."

"The biggest bed is a family tradition for Malfoys, I believe. Your father had the biggest bed of the dorm." Severus swirled his tea idly, looking at Draco, studying him. "Your mother sent you sheets that would fit it perfectly, didn't she?"

"Of course," Draco replied, nodding. "I couldn't sleep on those wretched things they had placed on them. Percale," he shuddered. "Still, it's not so bad. I like Crabbe and Goyle." After all, the two boys had been protecting him since Ron Weasley had hit him when he was nine. "And Blaise is a bit odd, but not so bad."

"That's good to hear. So you don't foresee any trouble with any of them?"

Draco waved his hand dismissively. "Vincent and Gregory do just as I tell them, and we get along famously. If Blaise turns out to be unpleasant, I have no doubt that it'll be easily handled."

The edges of Severus's mouth pulled up at Draco's words. What bittersweet memories that pulled up. "That sounds a lot like how your father handled himself here. There was one in the dorm, Lestrange, who was a complete git that didn't know his place."

"Lestrange..." Draco said thoughtfully. "The Lestranges are in Azkaban, aren't they? Father talks about that, sometimes..."

"Azkaban?" Strange, to mention such a place to a young child any more than necessary. What was Lucius trying to pull? Likely more of his propaganda.

Grey eyes slanted his way, slightly wide. "Yes?" It seemed quite odd to the boy that Severus had questioned him that way.

Severus tilted his head down, and took another sip of tea. "What does he tell you about it?"

"That it's a wizards' prison. That it's the most horrible place on earth, that they're cruel to ever send anyone to face the Dementors there. That they don't care if they send someone innocent or not, and that the Dementors are..." A shudder of fear danced down Draco's spine. "Horrible."

"He told you the mild version," Severus murmured as he set his cup down. "It's like having a nightmare in your mind, but you're awake, and it's all you can feel and sense. You can't think without making it worse." A veil seemed to fall over Severus's eyes as he said that, and partially he sank into remembrance of that horrible place.

"I won't ever have to go there, will I?" Draco questioned, and it was obvious that the question was asked with no small amount of fear.

"No, Draco. We went there because we did some horrible things, but not horrible enough to stay there forever like some must." Severus pushed another sandwich half towards Draco, as he slipped his shoulders back to rest firmly against the back of his chair. Horrible that a little boy would even have to wonder that.

"I can't imagine you ever doing anything horrible enough to go somewhere like that." He didn't say that he couldn't imagine Lucius doing such a thing, but Lucius had become so cold that perhaps Draco could.

"Looking back... Looking back, I can't say I regret anything I've done, but only their eventual outcomes. And that was beyond my control." Thinking, thinking like that made him tired, made him want to sleep until his next class, or do something mind-numbing; but instead he was having lunch with a mirror image of his one, his only lover, to whom he'd been so devoted, so pathetically devoted. "Sometimes the best of intentions do one little good, Draco. Never forget that."

"If they can't, then how can we tell what's good and what's bad? If what we do to try and make things right doesn't matter?" It seemed a deep conversation, and the boy was stumbling over the answers slightly.

"Good and bad is all..." Severus swept his fingers over Draco's face, looming close. In his fingers' wake, a film hung in the air. "A matter of how one sees the world, and what warps their perceptions. When I entered school, I was your age, and I held no perceptions at all. No film, no taint to the way I saw things. And steadily I learned hate, and love, and devotion, and cruelty. But I still haven't learned the tricks of veiling out the greys of life."

"How do I learn?" Draco asked, him, and the question seemed almost to plead with him. The boy wasn't even sure of what he knew, or if he knew anything.

"What do you want to learn, Draco...?" Severus pressed.

"Everything. Blacks and whites and greys and colors. I want to know everything," Draco told him earnestly, leaning forward, leaning close.

Severus swept his fingers through the false veil he'd created. "Pay attention in class. Learn everything you can. Watch your fellow classmates. Watch everything you can Draco, study everything that you can. And ignore gossip, because by the time it gets to you, it's been tainted."

The boy nodded to him earnestly, closed his eyes, leaned forward and pressed small, tender lips to Severus's cheek. "I promise," he agreed quietly, simply.

That kiss was a small blessing, because Severus felt drained. "I fear I've distracted you from lunch -- please, eat before the bell rings."

Ever obedient, Draco did as he was told. He ate his sandwich, drank his juice... but his eyes never once left the Potions master. Not even once.

---

It felt like a lizard crawling across his back.

Not a snake, never a snake. They were smooth skinned, vaguely scratchy if stroked backwards, but so sleek. This has the feel of scales, bumps, ridges, then claws in his flesh, scampering in places as if trying to escape something. It gouged at his skin, tore down to his spine, ripped him open, all while he laid there immobile and screaming, screaming to anyone who would hear for help, for it to stop, for the scratch scratch tear at his mind to end, to --

Severus jolted upright in bed, wild-eyed and sweating. "Lumos!" His voice ached out, proving that part of the dream had been true. Dumbledore had been wise when he'd first come there to cast that un-removable silence barrier on the room. Severus knew he screamed in his sleep when the nightmares came, as did everyone who'd been in that floor of the school the first night he'd slept there.

Fucking Merlin, and he was going to administer a test the next day. Bleary eyed wasn't the best way to do that, he told himself as he clutched his hands over his eyes for a moment -- but only after he'd made sure that his room was safe for him.

When the door flew open, it nearly scared him out of his wits, and a curse was halfway through his lips before he realized that it was a tiny male body, the boy flinging himself cloak, boots and all onto Severus's bed before bursting into terrified tears.

"D-d-don't llllet them m-make me g-g-o ag-gain!" he wept bitterly. "D-don't let them-m! It was horr-horrible!"

Blond hair, sleek blond hair, it was... Severus heart was still hammering away at hundreds of miles per hour, still half nightmare stricken, and now with fear tossed atop it -- because those shadows in the open flung doorway loomed threateningly, as if they were alive -- he wasn't sure he could process a single thing through his mind. "Mr. Ma--D-draco, let them what?"

The boy clung to him tightly, every inch of him freezing even through his cloak, and Severus could hear the labor of his breathing, sharp and aching from more than tears, laden down from the cold of wet spring air. He could feel the violent trembling throughout Draco's limbs. "M-M-mcG-g-g... F-forest," was all he could get out, and he wouldn't let loose of Severus's torso, too terrified.

He cast a spell with a rasped word, and a wave of his hand to close that door, and lock it all the tighter. It wasn't meant to keep out the Slytherin students, but they could ironically be trusted not to harm his personal belongings. No, it was meant to keep out other teachers, and anything else... He shuddered, just a tiny bit of it from the cold that Draco was sharing with him. "Draco." He tried to sound stern, but his voice was so badly shaken still that it faltered uselessly... "Get up, Draco -- fireplace, to the fireplace."

Malfoy protested wordlessly, still shaking in his fright even as Severus helped to maneuver him out of the bed, prodding both of them towards the fire. The boy collapsed in front of it, lungs rasping out a short bark. His skin was even more pallid than usual, frosted white it seemed, by the cold wet weather outside.

There wasn't a use for chairs then, not with the high backs that Severus preferred also being able to shield him from... things. Paranoia was running too high to do anything more than slip to sit with Draco, legs tucked beneath himself. His nightshirt just wasn't warm enough, and Draco looked frozen, so he brought the fire's warmth up higher. "Do you need something to clear your chest?" Draco was an overriding concern, even over his own shaken state, as he rolled the boy to lay on his back before the warming hearth.

A nod of the boy's head came as he struggled for breath momentarily, caught between rasping sobs and choked coughs, humiliated tears spilling over his cheeks. Yes.

The potions master rushed to his feet, over to a cabinet whose doors he promptly flung open. There were potions, and potions, and potions, all labeled in his own neat short-hand abbreviations. Even disoriented, he knew what Draco needed, though, grasped two vials of the syrupy violet gunk in his hands, then settled beside Draco once more. "Lift your head up a little, open your mouth." The first one was ready to pour down Draco's throat, already unstoppered.

Ever obedient, Draco closed his eyes and shifted himself upward, swallowing the liquid in the phial that Severus held to his lips. The moment he ingested it, he could feel his chest loosening, though undoubtedly the fact that he was still leaking tears helped little. "M-mcGonag-g-gall," he got out, shuddering. "D-d-detention..."

"Why? And what happened?" He had other questions for McGonagall, about why he wasn't informed of the detention as Draco's Head of House, or consulted on the punishment if it was beyond the ordinary punishment of cleaning things.

"B-because I was f-following Pot-tter the n-night they g-got rid of that d-dragon I told you about," Draco told him, pushing himself closer to the professor, clinging to him. "A-and she g-gave me detention w-with them. So, I w-wasn't going t-to w-whine about it, b-but then s-she sent us i-into the F-forest ton-night and..." And it was obviously so awful that he couldn't go on, quivering fiercely against Severus, and no surprise. He'd never been in anything less civilized than his mother's garden before, and he certainly never should have been sent out in such damp cold.

Minerva was going to get a tongue lashing the likes of which she'd never seen before.

"Shhh. Shhh, you're not out in the Forest now, and you won't be sent there again." One-handed, he unstoppered the second bottle of purple, taking a small mouthful so that he could talk without rasping, then pressed the lip of it to Draco's mouth, in the hopes of clearing out the last of what was troubling the boy's breathing.

There came that compliance again, submission in the form of a drink, Draco swallowing the stuff down. "There was this a-awful thing," the boy whispered, shuddering. "This slithering thing that was d-drinking unicorn blood and it started to come t-towards me and Potter and I r-ran away..."

"Unicorn blood?" What shook him worse, the unicorn blood, or that it slithered, was impossible for Severus to tell. Unicorn blood granted a half life for those soulless enough to kill the purest of creatures, for those who had nothing to lose by drinking of that purity. Who...? Another shudder shook him as he pulled Draco faintly closer. "Forget you saw that."

"I w-was so s-scared and th-th-they...." He wrapped himself even more tightly about Severus, rocking back and forth slightly in the comfort of the man's arms. "I can't sleep by myself. Don't make me go to b-bed alone..."

"No. You don't have to, Draco... take off your cloak and boots, and you can join me in my bed." His hands, of their own will, stroked at Draco's shoulders, his head bent down, his own body curling protectively against the boy.

"I was so scared," Draco said again, fumbling momentarily to try and rid himself of the required items, also tugging at his school robes. He didn't want to sleep in those. "I was so scared. I don't ever want to go anywhere like that again," he confessed in a rushed whisper. "That must be what it's like to be in Azkaban, so you can't think and you can't breathe and it's so cold. I'd rather die, Severus. Don't ever, ever, ever, oh, promise I won't have to go again!" he whispered, looking at him pleadingly.

"I'll speak with the other staff. Any more detentions you have will be served with me." Hopefully there would be no more, but he doubted that hope, as he looked down to Draco's grey wide eyes. Can't breath, so cold, cold, and scraping, scratching at his mind, his body, ripping into him, tearing carelessly, gleefully...

His own eyes closed for a moment, trying to clear his mind.

That seemed to set the boy at ease, though, the tremors running through Draco's body stilling slowly, his arms warm around Severus's shoulders. "I knew to come to you," he whispered. "I knew you wouldn't let anything bad happen. Oh..."

"I'll protect you from what I can, Draco... This matter will be brought before the headmaster without question, and I will not stand for you being put at this risk again." A tense, tired whisper as he started to stand again, night-shirt twisted around himself as shaky arms pulled Draco up with him.

The boy slid gratefully into his arms and, further, into his bed, curling up near the center of it. It seemed almost odd to see him there, wearing pants and that ridiculous little sweater vest, that white shirt, but he waited so patiently, so close. He looked at him with such pleading and with such trust, belief that Severus could make everything right in his world. Why should he believe anything different? Severus always had.

Had he looked at Lucius that way? Yes, what a stupid question. He'd trusted Lucius with the world, his world, and Lucius had failed him.

Severus was not going to fail Draco, not the boy who looked up to him, of all people, with so much hope in those grey eyes... "Close your eyes, Draco," he murmured lowly, creeping into the bed, sheets pulled up high on them both. "You need your sleep."

"Will you tell me a story?" Draco asked him softly, not wanting to go to sleep just yet, perhaps even afraid to go to sleep.

That was understandable, though, the edginess that came after a fright, a nightmare. His own still lingered, creeping in the corners of his mind like a skitterish lizard, peeking out when least expected... Damn Quirrell for invading his dreams. "What story do you want to hear?"

"Mmmm, the one about how you saved me when I was little," Draco decided, curling up against him warmly, thin arms seeking out his shoulders. "You're always saving me, I think. I should thank you."

"Draco, you've done more for me over the years than you can imagine," the professor murmured as he let Draco settle that closely against him. The boy's fingers were still cold, a chill that seeped through the fabric of his shirt before it started to fade. "When you were little, Draco, you were born too early. The medi-wizards were busy with your mother, and I worked for hours to tweak your body to keep you alive, to develop your lungs. I held you in my arms before either of your parents, and..." He exhaled in a strained breath, "and I will not allow the head of House Gryffindor to put you at such risk again."

Draco's face was pressed delicately against his throat. "I was so scared," he whispered there, shivering a little still. "It's so big and dark in there, and that thing was awful. I wonder if it got Potter...?"

Severus could only shake his head. Draco was probably being hopeful. "No, if Mister Potter was dead the entire building would have been roused."

Another little shudder worked through Draco, rippling, the feel of him warming slowly beside Severus. "I could feel it," he murmured, and perhaps it was just imagination. Perhaps. "I could feel it. It wanted... it... it lusted?" That was almost a question, and small hands held tightly to him. "I'm afraid of it," he whispered.

"You won't see it again." He wanted to press for details, wanted to press Draco for all the information that he had, but didn't want to cause him strain. So what if he was lying? It was to soothe Draco, and he'd do anything he had to for that.

It was working, too, for he could feel those soft, warm breaths evening out against his neck, the tremors in the boy tapering off, and for a while, he thought that Draco was sleep. It nearly made him jump when Draco whispered some time later, "I really love you, Severus."

What was there to say? A sleepy, drifting noise left Severus, and he let himself pull his prized student closer. There was no harm in letting the nightmares be faded away for a night, in protecting what was his...

---

"I didn't punish him any differently than I did the other three, and they were all from my own House!" Minerva protested, arms akimbo. She didn't back down from him, even when he stepped so close to her that they were nearly chest to chest.

"That's good and well, Minerva," he growled, a hand lingering near enough to strike before he folded his arms tensely. "But Mister Malfoy has a health issue that I keep close watch over, and that doesn't even cover the fact that you're apparently stupid enough to send children out looking for something that's killing unicorns!"

The sheer fury on her face was unspeakable. "Hagrid was with them, Severus. Nothing should have happened, and if you'd tell us about your charges and their various problems, we would know which children to assign which detentions! Certainly his health can't be that bad! He had no problem running straight back to the Slytherin dorms and leaving Harry by himself!"

"Where he promptly collapsed in front of my fire and almost stopped breathing!" he bit back, not about to back down on the matter. Gryffindors might send their children into the wind carelessly, but that was a choice to be made with their own children, and not his. "And Hagrid was not with them when they came across the... the thing that was drinking unicorn blood. His cowardly dog was there! I do not take kindly to knowing that the safety of my students is being handed over to a dog that's afraid of RABBITS."

"From now on, I shall be certain to only assign him detention inside the castle, then," Minerva snapped back in reply, though it was obvious that the circumstances of the matter disturbed her as well. "However, if you would keep your Mister Malfoy from harassing other students, we won't have any problems concerning the matter again. I don't need a first year rushing about in the middle of the night to tell on others that I very well could have caught on my own!"

"As if I'm the only one with problems keeping students in their rooms -- your three have served detention numerous times now, although if you think scaring them mindless will turn them around there isn't a need to drag my students into that battlefield," he sneered sharply. "Were you aware that they were looking for a creature that was killing unicorns?"

"They were looking for a hurt unicorn, not the creature that was killing them!" Minerva protested. "You cannot possibly claim to believe that I would send children out to deal with such a thing!"

"Minerva." The way his lips curled her name, made it a distasteful thing, caught her attention. "If a unicorn has been brutally hurt, would one not assume that there was something out there that was capable of hurting it?!"

The woman paused and took a deep breath, letting it out in a slow sigh. "That," she said patiently, "is why Hagrid was supposed to be with them."

"Hagrid doesn't have a wand, or legitimate magical powers. Were you really expecting your Potter to do the protecting instead? I KNOW what was out there, Minerva," Severus hissed, leaning nearer, "As do you."

"I have already agreed that you may punish your students as you see fit, Severus, without asking for the same leeway in return. Do. Not. Push. Me," Minerva said flatly, the two of them nose to nose.

"My," came Dumbledore's voice dryly from behind Severus. "I had never thought to find you... what is it the children say? Ah, yes. Snogging a Gryffindor, Severus."

"At least the lives of your students won't be in danger when they're polishing the trophy case!" Severus snapped, jerking back and pivoting to look at Dumbledore. "Do YOU know what's lurking about in the forest, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore took a deep sigh and nodded. "Yes, Severus. I suspect that I do. For the moment, Mister Potter is much more a matter of concern than Mister Malfoy, for he will undoubtedly be the first target sought."

It was like having cold water dumped on him, the way that it stilled Severus's motions and pressed shock into his bones. He hadn't actually expected to hear his suspicion being confirmed, nor done so lightly. "He's alive again, and that's the most you can muster, Headmaster? As if He would stop at something so simple as murder?" His throat was closing up with what was probably the same fear that Draco had felt the night before, as he looked at the two Gryffindor teachers.

"Perhaps not," Dumbledore agreed. "From now on, there will be no children allowed out after dark, and we'll have to be most careful in being certain that is so. I know you fret over your charge, Severus..." Of course he knew. He knew that Severus had helped to create the boy, what Draco meant to him. "Keep an eye on him. And you, Minerva, do the same for Harry. We most particularly want neither of those boys in his hands."

"Given Draco's... lineage, I would consider that wise," Severus murmured, looking more pallid than usual, suddenly drained of his fury by cold, sharp shock. "And how much He would enjoy revenge for what happened."

"Or perhaps his specifications for the child's breeding have not left his mind entirely," Dumbledore pointed out, knowing that Severus had likely considered the matter. "Not any more than his desire to kill the last of the Gryffindor line."

"Specifications?" Minerva was quite lost insofar as their conversation had taken a most odd right-angle turn.

"It isn't something to concern you, Minerva," Severus dismissed, even as he nodded to the headmaster's words. "It would be opportune..."

"Good. Then that's settled. I assume that you will make certain his father is aware of the proper necessities to be taken as I will make certain others are aware of Harry's situation. For now, though, we shall be most conscientious. Someone must be nearby who is aiding him," Albus decided. "For now, keep an eye on Harry and his friends, Minerva, most closely. Severus will do the same for young Malfoy."

"Of course," she agreed, slanting a quick glance full of curiosity at Severus.

He wasn't going to honor her curiosity, though. "I'll owl Lucius now, then -- if you'll excuse me..."

"Of course," Albus agreed with a nod. "Minerva," he said by way of goodbye, turning to leave the room as Severus did the same. Almost out the doorway, Severus turned, backtracking to pick up a book he'd left on the counter... which gave Minerva enough time to snag him once more.

"Severus," she said, "won't you please explain what's going on here?"

He glanced up at her face, trying to gauge if she was serious or not. "Voldemort is going on here, Minerva."

The look on her face made it pointedly clear that she wasn't going to let him get away with that. "Draco Malfoy? Specifications...?"

"He required a..." Severus's lips curled faintly, darkly. "Concubine who would be willing. Mostly Veela, for the look of it. Male. Powerful."

Minerva's breath caught, eyes widening. "Oh. Oh. My. Severus, I'm so sorry, had I known..."

"You still would've sent Potter and his fool friends out there? I'd rather no student tangle with that, even your precious 'Boy Who Lived'." Book tucked under his arm, he was ready to turn and leave again, eager to do so. Minerva McGonagall apologizing was unbelievably unnerving. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to write to Lucius."

"Of course," she said simply, her mouth compressing. There was no use in arguing with Severus, as most knew altogether too well for their own comfort. "Good luck in keeping your students safe."

He wanted to snap back that it shouldn't have even been an issue of contention, but decided not to argue with her longer. It wasn't going anywhere, and that letter needed to be written to Lucius. Even if his ex-lover simply burned it, he'd made the attempt.

The attempt, in the end, was the important thing.

---

"I can't believe he did that." It was a whisper, shell-shocked, one that echoed throughout the entirety of Slytherin House from one student to another, a whisper filled with aching betrayal and with a bizarre sense of expectation, as if none of them had ever expected anything more, anything better.

Perhaps none of them did. None of his children expected anything more than treachery, perfidy.

What was there to say to them? That he'd seen betrayal of that sort on a smaller scale, person by person beaten down by the way that things were? Upheaval of the system that was the students' reward and punishment, showing them that it truly meant nothing, was the worst thing Dumbledore could've done. Severus could only look at the children of his house -- leaving seventh years down to the new, hurt and less accustomed first years. Slytherin had won the House Cup by virtue of their hard work for years since he'd become Head of the House, and now it was a system ruined for them.

"Students -- I want your attention," he declared to the commons room, voice slightly sharp.

Most of them turned to him; they turned to him because he was the only one they had to turn to, so often, they turned to him because they respected him, they turned to him because he kept the other houses from swallowing them whole, declaring them utter devils, kept the other houses afraid of them. And they waited, most of them patiently, to hear what he would say.

"I want all of you to know that you did win the House Cup, just as plainly as you won the Quidditch Cup this year," he told them all firmly. "What happened today was a travesty, and a mockery of the system's supposed use. I see this, and all of you see this, however the Headmaster apparently does not." He couldn't help but sneer on those words, still looking at his students. "But we know that Slytherin House won this year."

The cheering, the agreement, was muffled, the lot of them still crushed for the moment. It seemed that none of them would take his words to heart, not even Draco, who'd looked quite frankly pulverized beneath the weight of Gryffindor's sudden points addition. Still, he wasn't surprised when the blond boy stood and marched to stand beside him, pointed chin notched firmly upward in a way that reminded Severus so deeply of Lucius.

"He's right!" Draco called, and there was something in him that shined, the same something that Lucius had always had. Perhaps it was the Malfoy in him. Perhaps it was the Veela. Either way, it worked out to his advantage. His own year listened to him before any of the others, but that attention was by no means exclusive. "We're better than them. We proved it to ourselves even if someone took it away from us at the last moment. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right, but we can't do anything official about it without making Professor Snape look bad." That, very few of them would want to do. They were loyal to him, above all else. "So we'll do what we can privately, and since points don't matter, that will leave us even more options for getting back at them!"

"Ah, that's not permission to act like disgraces," Severus cut in, still looking at them, but glancing at Draco, "Just keep in mind that the system will probably be slanted so that Gryffindor will win until Harry Potter leaves this school. So be subtle in how you get back at them."

Draco smirked up at him for a moment, then looked back at his Housemates. "Next year," he promised them solemnly, nodding. "We'll get them next year."

Severus seldom used a wand, preferring simple wandless magic or his potions, but his sleek wand slipped from his sleeve, and he waved it murmuring something under his breath. The commons room suddenly burst out into decoration and food from the kitchen that should've been going to the Gryffindor commons. "Pack, don't make too much of a mess, and enjoy your victory, House of Slytherin."

And his children cheered for him, shouted for him, and for once, Severus was very certain of being loved, even if it was only for the moment in their eyes, in all of those eyes except for the grey ones looking at him with such absolute delight and adoration.

Those eyes held it on days when even his own students wanted to see him hanging from his neck, those eyes had held it when he'd barely taught a few months, when nightmares lingered in their reality. Severus smiled slightly, let himself feel pride for his students, and over Draco, then bowed out. A student celebration was no place for a teacher, no matter how often he meddled in his House, and the celebration would certainly be less muted once he escaped to his rooms.

It was hours later before he heard from any of them again, and even then it was only the soft swish of Draco's robes across the floor as he pushed open the door to Severus's bedroom and peered inside. "Severus?"

"Yes, Mister Malfoy?" Severus's voice was vaguely strained, and he couldn't be seen at all from the doorway that Draco stood in. One of the chairs near the fireplace had been turned towards the fire, though it wasn't lit. That left the room a little dank, but summer's warmth was seeping in with humidity.

"Ahhh, you're still awake," Draco said with some amount of satisfaction, moving into the room and shutting the door quietly behind him. "That's good."

"You should be asleep," he countered, not stirring from his chair yet. "Or enjoying the company of your fellow students, Draco."

"Party's over," Draco told him softly. "We fetched a few house-elves to take care of things for us, and everyone went up to bed, mostly."

Slowly, Severus lifted his head a little, stopped concentrating so thoroughly on peering into the empty fireplace. The room was so much darker than he usually kept it, and no doubt that was why Draco had doubted he was awake. "Then you should be asleep -- you've a long train ride tomorrow."

"I'll have plenty of time to sleep tomorrow," Draco replied, slipping closer to him. "Tonight is my last night to see you until September." Suddenly, two months seemed awfully far away to him.

"That's right. I very much doubt that your father will allow me to visit this summer. It's just as well, since I have research..." There was a little too much drawl to Severus's voice, a bit of drift in his tone that wasn't there in his usual sharp, pointed words.

"I'll miss you terribly," Draco admitted, sitting on the arm of his chair and leaning close, small, pointed nose wrinkling. "You've been drinking," he announced, shaking his head.

"It's been a strenuous year, Draco. I don't indulge often." Not like Lucius could. He was certainly calm, glad that he'd stopped drinking before he went past the melancholy and mellow stage.

"Oh," Draco said then, a hand reaching to rub lightly at the back of Severus's neck, thoughtfully massaging at him. "That's all right, then."

The teacher sighed softly, eyes closed as that slight, faint motion relaxed him more than he expected. He trusted Draco, and the boy was always so willing to be of help. Lines of stress faded, and he steadily looked much closer to his barely over thirty age. "I'm glad you'll miss me, Mr. Malfoy. I shall certainly still be here when the next school year begins, however."

"Are you always going to call me Mr. Malfoy now?" Draco teased him, leaning his head to rest it atop Severus's. That black hair was so soft, even with the fine layer of oil drenching it down from heat and stress and potions, and it didn't bother Draco that it was.

"If it bothers you, perhaps I should," Severus mused dully, eyes still closed. "You haven't called me 'Severus' in front of your classmates, though, and for that I'm grateful."

"I don't like it when you call me that privately," Draco admitted. "But I wouldn't do anything that might hurt you in front of them. I love you. You're my Severus. That would be..." He thought about it for a moment. "Very wrong."

Tightly compressed lips smiled very faintly. "Very well, Dra-co, I'll refrain from calling you that in private." Bits of an earlier conversation with the Headmaster drifted through his mind, speeches about attempting to distance himself from Draco, to make their familial bond into something more professional and acceptable for teachers and students. Unnaturally biased -- as if the headmaster had a foot to stand on in that matter.

"You should go to bed, you know," Draco told him softly. "You're dozing off where you are, and you'll be stiff if you wake up here come morning."

"I believe that I'd rather remain where I am and think, Draco." And have the boy remain where he was. A pity he couldn't keep him over the summer, and have him help with research. Draco had a mind for it, despite the tediousness of it. Severus leaned slightly, lifted his head a little to press against Draco.

"All right," Draco agreed with him, allowing his closeness with a muffled delight. "All right." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Dumbledore really is the twit Daddy calls him, isn't he?"

"Yes he is, Draco, but he's also a reason that we're all alive -- you, me, your mother and your father," Severus sighed. "Some days he's brilliant... other days he needs to pull his bearded head out of his ass."

"Today must be a head in ass sort of day, then," Draco decided. "He's lost any respect Slytherin might ever have had for him. Not," he said, "that it was very much, but all the same."

"And he doesn't see it. After what happened when your father and I were here, you'd assume that he'd see, see that doing that only..." Severus trailed off, leaning nearer to Draco. "I believe I've said too much, and drank too much."

"It's all right," the boy protested. "I like to listen to you, when you talk. I like to know things..."

"Once upon a time, the headmaster committed a series of acts that gave Voldemort a power base to draw from. Bitter, tired, disillusioned people who were just as good, strong, and brilliant as the rest, but were treated as if they deserved to die. So most of them assumed that if they were going to be treated that way, why not act in... in accordance to the way they were treated."

"So that was why you chose to follow You-Know-Who. You and Daddy?" Draco whispered, shivering even at the little appellation, afraid of the man's actual name.

"Your father did, and partly because we were raised to do so. He had... power, promised power, promised that we would be above those who'd hurt us. But he took, and he took, and I often wish that I'd never followed your father, or joined, because I did it for him." And had nothing to show for it, only... "But then you wouldn't be alive, and I wouldn't lose that for the world." His words slurred together without the enunciation of them slurring, as he lifted a limp hand from his lap to rest on Draco's leg.

"Good," Draco whispered, and kissed his forehead most tenderly. "That's good. I wouldn't want to lose you, either. You really should go to bed now," he prompted gently, tugging at Severus.

"Don't tell your father that I told you any of this... he hates me enough, I think." Gentle tugging got him to stand slowly, though he pulled Draco with him, if only to have the boy near.

"I won't tell," Draco whispered to him. "We don't talk very much anymore, anyway. He's always busy with other things. Not like you and Mummy."

"I detested your mother when I met her... she's wonderful now, though, good person, stronger... than I'd suspected she could've been." They walked together, Severus wobbling a little, towards the neatly made bed.

"She's very fond of you," Draco agreed, laughing a bit as he managed to get Severus to the bed. The man was still wearing his shoes and all of his clothes, so he knelt down to begin tugging at Severus's footwear. "She wishes I could spend more time with you. She was very insistent about my schooling here."

"She loves you... understandable that she wants her child near to her and safe... there are elements at Durmstrang of which even I disapprove." He let Draco pull his boots off, while working open his outer robes until there was just a close-fitted sleeveless undershirt and trousers left, which were fine to sleep in.

"You should take off the rest," Draco chided. "You'll be uncomfortable when you wake, otherwise."

"It would be most improper," Severus drawled, looking at the boy across from him with heavily-lidded eyes.

"When have we ever cared for proprieties when we're alone?" Draco returned most lightly.

"Since the headmaster has taken me to task for showing you favoritism." But against his words, he peeled the undershirt up, dropped it on the other side of the bed, and started to unbutton his trousers.

"Well, then, after tonight, he's not got any right to take you to task for such a thing," Draco said lightly, smiling at him as he watched from beneath pale lashes. A vague clench in his stomach sang of excitement, despite everything. He knew he likely shouldn't feel that way, but neither could he stop it, and he'd read the book Severus had given him for his ninth birthday from cover to cover. He knew.... and even if he could stop it, he wouldn't.

"Until next school year." Severus had a lean form, tight muscle patching together a body that seemed neglected and thinner than it wanted to be. He moved well, as always, as he shifted his hips to slide the trousers down, leaving himself with silken soft boxers on that seemed to caress over his flesh and made Draco shiver.

"Right," the boy agreed, smiling at him as he slid into the bed. "May I stay with you tonight?"

"You'll miss your train," Severus slurred softly, laying his head back on the pillows and looking up at Draco.

"I promise to wake early," Draco said softly, stripping away his own robes and tugging loose sweater vest, head tilted to the side.

Severus watched, though his eyes seemed almost closed. One hand drifted up, long fingers touching the side of Draco's neck for a moment. "You're as beautiful... as you should be."

"Mmmm." Draco slid into the bed, lightly tangling his fingers with Severus's. Too soon, he knew, by at least a year, perhaps as much as two, but it was coming. Until then, he didn't want his Severus feeling guilty over anything, and afterwards, he'd make sure that he couldn't. "You should go to sleep now," he whispered. "I'll leave you a note and a hangover cure come morning."

"Back of the cabinet," the professor drawled, hand clutching at Draco's fingers for a moment. What a wonderful, perfect child, well composed, comported himself properly, beautiful, exquisite, loving...

His. Severus drifted to sleep with that in mind, Draco clutched drunkenly close.

---

"....Potter boy.... release.... diary.... Tom Riddle..."

Tom Riddle? Draco wondered about that, leaning ever closer to the study door. His tongue was stuck out in concentration, the tip peeking out from between his lips as he listened suspiciously. What on earth was this all about, then?

He finally had to lean as near as was feasible against the door, hands pressed against the wood, breath silent as possible. It made it easier for him to hear, to make out the voice of his father and a friend talking. His father did a lot of things with his friends, so that talking was so suspicious a thing.

"And that'll be the end of him?"

"Of course. We'll just slip the diary to someone, say, one of those bloody Weasleys; they're so difficult to miss, and Draco says Potter is good friends with one of the multitudinous creatures..."

"But which one? Well, it doesn't matter, because one is the same as the other -- Gryffindor, and they'll all end up near the source. Nearer than your brat will ever get."

"Yes, well, Draco is Slytherin through and through, there's no denying it. And you know how Gryffindors feel about that," Lucius said, and it seemed that they were getting closer to the door.

Draco backed away silently, scrambling to head for the parlor and the book he'd left laying there, his potions text for second year. Severus had sent it to him the day after he'd returned home.

"How is your progeny? Snape teaching him what he needs to know...? If so, he'll probably be giddy that we're going to kill Potter," McNair declared as the library doors were flung open.

"Draco says Potter is insufferable. Dumbledore, that incompetent excuse for an actual Headmaster, allotted enough points to Potter and his ridiculous friends -- a Mudblood and a Weasley, no less! -- to have them defeat Slytherin for the House Cup," Lucius drawled, the insult obvious in his voice.

McNair chuckled darkly, "Nothing's changed since I was there, since you were there, has it? I pity all Slytherin children. Things will be better for them with Potter dead."

"Of course," Lucius agreed coolly, and Draco shuddered, hiding himself deeply in the armchair where he had tumbled. "And we'll make sure of that."

Murder. His father was discussing murder, and while Draco didn't like Harry Potter, he certainly wasn't ready to kill him!

"What're his marks like? Better than Crabbe and Goyle's children, I hope..." They lingered outside the door of the parlor, and Draco could feel eyes on him even if he couldn't see them.

"Second best," Lucius said shortly, and the answer was sneered so that it hurt. It wasn't his fault that all of the teachers but Snape liked Hermione better, the little know-it-all, was it? He worked hard, desperately hard, and he was so very close to her in everything... "A Mudblood beat him out for top of his year."

"A mudblood?" His father's friend's voice had such shock in it that Draco felt ill. "A mudblood? Malfoy, is your son stupid?"

"Apparently," Lucius replied, and Draco winced deeply, eyes closing tightly. He'd done his best, honestly he had. It had been enough for Severus, enough for his mummy, so why wasn't it enough for his daddy?

Daddy. That didn't seem like the right term for Lucius just now. It was far too warm a word for him. Father. That fit better.

"That's a pity. One would think, given his parents, that... ah, well -- that must've been from his mother's side." More sneering, and he could finally hear their footfalls heading away. "We'll kill the mudbloods, too. Not to worry."

"It was good to see you, McNair. I'll hope to see you again sometime soon," Lucius replied, and Draco heard the front door open.

"Good day to you, Lucius."

Then it was over, and the front door was closing.

Draco listened as his father's footsteps went back to his study, the door shutting behind him, and for a while, he simply remained where he was. He wasn't a stupid boy. He wasn't. "I'm not," he whispered to himself, fingers balling into a fist. He'd always been smart, bright, Severus had said so. But... what if Severus was lying to him? "Severus wouldn't lie to me..." he decided, and stood up, knowing what he had to do. He had to do what Severus would do, even if he disliked Potter awfully.

Dobby wasn't difficult to find, and if his father had intercepted him, he could've just claimed that he was getting a snack. But since he couldn't tell Potter, he just had to find someone with magic who would do it for him. That someone was definitely going to have to be Dobby. After all, Dobby was smart and good with magic, and maybe Potter wasn't accustomed to house-elves. If he wasn't, then perhaps he'd be frightened off just by that, Draco decided, stopping next to Dobby as the elf peeked up from where he sat folding Draco's clean robes.

"Now, you listen here, Dobby," he said. "I'm sending you on a very important mission, understand?" he whispered into the house-elf's ear, watching him closely.

"Master Draco is wanting a cookie?" Sometimes, late at night, that was Dobby's important mission.

"No, no," Draco said impatiently. "Not that kind of mission. An important one. You have to go to Harry Potter and..."

"Harry Potter? Mister Harry Potter is being an important person, Master Lucius is not liking if Dobby go, Master Draco," the house-elf told him, shaking his head almost furiously as he went back to ironing.

"You must!" Draco hissed, taking away the iron from the elf. "You must go to him and you must tell him that he cannot come back to school for second year. It will be very dangerous for him if he comes back to Hogwarts, understand?"

"Important Mister Harry Potter will get hurt...?" Dobby asked, staring up at Draco to be filled in with either a yes or a no.

"If he returns to Hogwarts, yes," Draco whispered. "And you mustn't tell him who sent you, not ever, or you and I will be in big trouble with Father."

"Not be in trouble with Master Lucius," Dobby decided firmly, nodding his ugly head. "Dobby will be going after done ironing?"

"Yes," Draco agreed, breath sighing out tremulously. "Go then, and hurry back. Don't let Father catch you gone, Dobby."

"Dobby is not wanting head slammed in cabinet again, even if deserving it, no, no," the house-elf agreed, before returning his attention back to ironing.

"Good," Draco agreed, and sat back on his heels. Well. He doubted Potter would listen, but at the very least, he'd have some sort of warning. Nobody deserved to just die all for being disliked!

---

Given who chose the squad, it wasn't a surprise that Malfoy would make the Quidditch team. First he had to run through the vigorous testing process for the position he wanted, though -- finding the snitch that Madam Hooch had just released.

Arms crossed firmly over his chest, watching the darting motions high above, Severus was pleased. There were new brooms for his team, though there was a note attached that they weren't to be used if Draco didn't make the team. Lucius always had his priorities.

Always.

The sad thing was that Lucius didn't know that Draco could catch the snitch. He assumed that he could, of course, but assumptions did not always convert well into realities. Still, Draco had been snitch-catching for years, and this one was no different. Less than five minutes after it was released, it was firmly in the palm of his hand -- twenty minutes faster than their last Seeker had managed it, in fact.

He'd known before that Draco could catch it, known from visits and watching Draco play in his free time with the chromed blue snitch that he still had with him. Madam Hooch looked surprised, but Severus just smiled faintly, clapping mildly as Draco landed amidst his fellows. "Put him down on the team roster -- tell the other seekers to go back to the dorm."

"You really ought to at least give the others a chance, Snape," Madam Hooch said, looking over at him. "Even though you're not likely to find a better one."

"Fine. Then put him down on the team roster and let the others waste their time and mine," Severus drawled as he crossed his arms over his chest, looking back towards the gathered students.

"All right, all right," Hooch agreed, "but you know they'll all say he bought his way on and that you're showing blatant favoritism. You know how Dumbledore will fidget about it."

"As if Slytherin House shouldn't have a favorite -- even your House of Gryffindor, Madam Hooch, has favored students," he said, watching Draco let go of the snitch for the next person to try for.

"Never said it didn't," Hooch returned, sharp golden eyes glancing his way. "Just said that Dumbledore would have his knickers in a twist."

"Then he can have them be twisted. I'm not about to settle for a lesser player so that his nerves can be soothed. It is simply fortune that Draco is such a good Seeker, and that his father is so generous to the team." Damn the Headmaster, and let him think what he would.

"Not quite fair to the other teams, but Quidditch isn't about being fair," Hooch replied. "Suppose you'll do your best to stomp Gryffindor this year. Best of luck to you."

"And if we do it again, we'll see if the headmaster finds a way to repeal that, too," Severus drawled, eyes not on the student above them trying pathetically to catch the snitch, but Draco. Perhaps Draco should've gone last. He was sitting there sneering at the lot of those still waiting to try and catch it, his expression so much like his father's that it tore at Severus's heart for a moment.

"Yes, well, can't say that was fair, either, but nothing ever is. Life isn't fair, charms class is tough," Severus was informed stalwartly.

"Then no one should expect my house to act as if it is fair. So the headmaster can eat his knickers for all that I care." Silence fell after that, and the boy up in the air took a whole twenty minutes to catch it -- good, but not so good as Draco had been.

"Just one more and then you can tell them," Hooch said. "You wouldn't want to discourage them, now would you?"

"I've seen this boy practice before -- it'll take him over an hour," Severus drawled, though he sharply gestured for that boy to give it his try.

"So call him down after twenty minutes. I haven't seen you so impatient in years, Snape. Very fond of Lucius's brat, aren't you? Not that I blame you. They look just alike, and I even knew of a few Gryffindors who lusted after him," Hooch pointed out lightly.

What was she implying? Severus wasn't sure he wanted to know, but could guess at it, could guess that she was trying to say what he was lusting over Draco? Insanely stupid, the mere suggestion of it, Severus told himself dismissively, as he leaved a displeased look on her. "It's clear that the team's seeker will be Malfoy."

"You can come down!" she bellowed up at the fifth year still looking for the snitch. "All right. That's that, then, well done."

"Team roster full now...?" He asked, peeking over his shoulder idly. He was sure it was, but occasionally he did forget something. "Ah, yes -- the second quickest will be in as Mr. Malfoy's alternate."

"Everything right and tight and just as it should be," Hooch agreed. "You had ought to make your announcements now. I'm sure they're all rather impatient to hear them."

He took the roster sheet from her, and moved steadily towards the students gathered there. "Now, I'll start with second string..."

---

Draco hated coughing.

It was an inelegant sound, those dreadful, hoarse rasps of breath, the way that the sound of it barked from his throat. Worse were the potions he sometimes had to swallow to make them go away; Severus always said that if it tasted bad, that likely meant it was working. Draco still thought he could add something to make them taste less nasty and so he resisted until the very last possible moment, when his chest was so thick with his cough that he could hardly breathe. That was when he finally gave in, and he knew that the time was coming, likely this very afternoon.

If he could just make it through Defense Against the Dark Arts class and that idiot standing up at the front of the room...

Lockhart was a sad excuse for a human being, nattering on as if he knew what he was talking about; oh, he'd enamored himself onto a few of the Slytherins, but they were the weaker ones, the ones with less personality than Draco had. Those, the girls particularly, hung from every idiotic word that left his lips, ever drooling blathering story. So far he'd claimed every magical feat save killing You-Know-Who.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Like Lockhart could even do away with a pixie, Draco decided, stifling another cough and scowling. They'd heard about the mess he'd made with the Gryffindors and their little Cornish pixie experiment, and he'd seen what the man had done to Potter's arm. He wasn't masochistic enough by far to want to be on the pointy end of that man's wand! Even the dull end was a little too close for comfort, and certainly having the man's eyes on him suddenly was far, far too close.

"Mr. Malfoy, touch of cough there...?"

"No!" Draco denied fanatically, and if he'd already been pale, then he likely turned ghost white when a cough exploded from his chest without his consent. Dratted weak lungs!

"Ah, can't hide anything from Gilderoy Lockhart," the DADA professor tutted, striding towards Draco. "Now, while not as daunting as actual anti-hex and curse spells, I do know a touch of medi-wizardry... Hold still, Mr. Malfoy, and that cough will be gone in a moment."

"I'll be seeing Professor Snape shortly!" Draco protested on a tight breath. Oh, no... Perhaps he should throw a quick hex and then run, because Lockhart was pretty useless with real magic.

"I doubt that the Head of your House can do what I'm about to do, Mr. Malfoy," Lockhart smiled, a thing shared with all the classroom, before he flicked his wand at Draco's chest.

The searing pain that followed was certainly nothing like the relief that Severus's nasty potions brought him. It felt almost as if his entire body had seized up, his lungs ceasing to function, and he arched over and fell onto the floor as Pansy screamed beside him.

"YOU'VE KILLED HIM!" she shrieked, waving her hands to distract the useless teacher as Blaise Zabini went running out of the classroom, likely to fetch Professor Snape. "Oh, no, you've killed Draco!!"

"Ms. Parkinson, I b-believe you're overreacting," Lockhart stammered as he knelt beside Draco, fingers fumbling to search for the boy's pulse.

"He's not BREATHING!" she hollered, bringing her wand to the fore and pointing it at him in a panic. "Don't touch him! Vincent, Gregory, stop sitting there looking stupid, pick him up and take him to the Infirmary!"

Draco's two friends finally jerked to life, and the two boys crowded back the shaken, startled Professor, both of them picking up Draco at once -- he was small, but it would be easier to run with them both carrying him.

"Goodness," Lockhart said, pale and fidgety. "He's not going to die, his lungs are just clearing out, and I..."

"His lungs can't be clearing out if he isn't breathing!" Pansy screeched at him.

An excellent point, that, or so Draco would have thought if he hadn't already blacked out from lack of oxygen. Indeed, as Vincent and Gregory stormed down the hallways holding his shoulders and his feet and carrying him between them, they'd never seen him any paler, and he was certainly pallid enough on an ordinary day!

Lockhart could do nothing more than fidget for a moment more, before turning to the rest of the class and announcing, "I believe that we should return to our lesson now... Mr. Malfoy will be fine, you'll see."

Lockhart, the remaining Slytherins decided, was going to be very lucky if Professor Snape didn't tie him in knots. The rest of the class, what bit was left, passed with excruciating slowness; and as the door swung open, Professor Snape could be seen looming just beyond, waiting. The students, wisely, rushed past him, leaving their professor behind.

Oh, dear.

"Ahh, Severus, hello, I was just going to come and look for you..." Lockhart babbled, voice pitched a tad high with what was purely stress.

"If I asked you what you thought you were doing today, do you think you could give me an answer, Professor Lockhart?" Severus asked in a deathly flat hiss as he swept in through the doorway moments after the last Slytherin left.

"Relieving Mr. Malfoy of his cough, of course. The poor boy was obviously having trouble breathing and was ever so excited about allowing me to work on him," the giddy DADA teacher babbled.

"You almost killed him, you sodding, stupid git," Severus snarled, and suddenly he was right in front of Lockhart with a hand around the man's throat.

"Oh, well, there was that!" Lockhart admitted in a terrified squeak, falsely blue eyes opened wide in surprise. "Er, I did?"

"Do you think that if Mr. Malfoy had died because of your idiocy that you wouldn't have died in a flash of green, Lockhart?" The fingers around his throat tightened, and suddenly he was jammed back against his chalkboard.

"Th-that's illegal!" the terrified man squealed, feet now dangling an inch or five off of the floor. "Oh, dear!"

"Idiocy should be illegal, too. Do not lay so much as a glance on any of my students again, Mr. Lockhart. I am their Head of House, and if they have any health issues, they will come to me, or to Madam Pomfrey, not a two bit idiot!"

"Of course!" the DADA professor agreed, shuddering for breath as Severus squeezed. "Whatever you say! Anything at all! Won't try to help!"

It would've been easy, to just flex his fingers tightly and crush the man's throat. The world wouldn't have missed him, that was sure... Barely, just barely, Severus stepped back, and let the man fall to the ground. "Never go near him again, understood?"

"Anything you say," Lockhart coughed out, the sheer panic on his face undeniable. He wasn't about to disagree with the man, especially not with that look in his eyes, that 'I'd really like to filet you and dance on your sticky bones' kind of look.

"Don't cross me, Lockhart. Harass the Gryffindors all you want, but leave my house alone." If he stayed in the room with the man much longer, he'd snap and break his neck, choke him to death, something. Something painful, and guaranteed to end in death, and he just didn't have time for that if he was going to use the rest of his lunch to drop in on Draco once more before the next class.

He hadn't wanted to leave his class alone when Zabini had come storming in full-tilt, and to tell the truth, he'd been about to yell at the boy until his knowledge had been imparted. Once he knew what was going on, however, Severus had abandoned his classroom willingly. After all, it wasn't every day that one's favorite student, the child of one's former lover, one's blood kin, had all of their internal organs rearranged into knots.

He was going to have words with Albus, again, for letting such an idiot be hired for that position. It was Potter's fault, it had to be. First a danger, then an idiot, who knew what would be next -- but he was going to help Lockhart leave before the next year rolled around.

"Any change, Poppy?" he requested crisply, politely, as he peeked into the infirmary and closed the door behind him.

"I've gotten all of his organs rearranged into their proper order," she said crisply. "Never mind that I don't like Professor Lockhart fiddling about with our students! Malfoy should have come in sooner about his cough..."

"He doesn't enjoy the taste of the corrective potion," Severus informed her with a sigh, as he loomed nearer to the bed that Draco laid in. "I assume he won't be in any shape to travel home for the holiday?"

"Most definitely not," Poppy told him, looking up at him expectantly. "And he had probably ought to have company of a sort, as well. You'll take care of it?" She knew he would. Severus was still one of her favorites and had been from his very first year.

"Of course," was his solicitous agreement. "He may remain in the dorms with his fellows, and under my care during the course of the holidays. Far, far away from Professor Muck-up."

"I can't wait for the end of the year," Poppy said, vinegar in her tone. "I do hope that someone better gets the job." She knew how Severus always claimed to want it, but she also knew that he was better than anyone she'd ever known when it came to potions. Albus wouldn't give that up any time soon.

Nor likely would Severus accept if the offer of the DADA job were ever extended to him. The position certainly seemed cursed, and he very clearly planned on staying at Hogwarts for as long as possible. "I wish that Albus would have a talk with him about this insanity he's inflicting on the students."

"Albus always has his reasons," Poppy sighed. "Not that it'll make Harry Potter's bones any happier or Draco Malfoy any less concerned about his internal organs, and who can blame him. Perhaps you should start slipping something into his tea to keep him a bit more... er... well, at any rate, less concerned with the children's health problems?? Particularly those two," she said, peering up at him as if to say that she knew much more than he thought she did.

She probably did know much more than he thought she did. Poppy had always seemed to be silently on the inside of whatever goings on were happening at Hogwarts. "I think I'll just slip him a sedative," Severus muttered, though she'd sparked an idea in his mind and he'd have to look into it more thoroughly.

"Perhaps we'll even manage to refrain from murdering him for the rest of the year," she said dryly. "Would you like to see your student?"

"Yes." And there was no question that she'd allow him to see Draco; when something happened to a Slytherin student, he never overstayed his welcome, and was often capable and willing to lend a helping hand.

"Just keep in mind that he's rather sore. He's very likely to snap your head off," Poppy said before walking back towards her desk in the back of the infirmary.

"As if I'm not accustomed to the Malfoy temper." Those last droll words were all that he gave before walking around the curtain of Draco's bed. Draco looked small, and deathly pale even against the white sheets, tucked firmly into them and piled with a blanket or two to ward off chill.

"How do you feel?"

"I hurt," Draco whispered, voice raw from lack of breath, from pain, from his cold. "I hurt and I want my Dolly!" It didn't matter that he was just turned twelve; he still kept his Dolly in his room, and none of his roommates laughed at him for it. After all, Crabbe and Goyle had known him since he was nine, and neither of them minded Draco's Dolly. In fact, they were such remarkable copies of their fathers that Severus would have confused them had both boys not been the recipient of their mothers' intelligence... thank goodness.

"Have you sent Gregory or Vincent for it...?" Severus asked, leaning down to tuck the sheets more firmly in around Draco. Under Madam Pomfrey's care, he knew that Draco would heal, but it was little things that he knew he could do that he wanted to be there for. "Professor Lockhart will not be meddling with you again, Draco."

"I made them go back to class," Draco answered pitifully, and Severus knew that was a request for him to bring Dolly to the infirmary. "If Father hears about this, he'll probably rip Professor Lockhart's head off." He looked up at Severus, almond-shaped grey eyes thoughtful. "I'm surprised you haven't yet."

"Almost," Severus murmured quite sincerely. "His head cracking against the blackboard makes a sound that I'm sorry you weren't there to hear." His fingers lingered over Draco's shoulders, only barely touching. Such a delicate, small boy, and that buggering excuse for a wizard had almost snuffed out his life.

That made the boy smile up at him, gaze gleaming with adoration. "I knew you'd take care of him and that I wouldn't even have to owl Father about it. Do I have to go back to his stupid class? He doesn't teach anything at all. You would be so much..." The words were bitten off by a yawn. "Better. You'd be better at everything..."

One hand slipped up, stroking Draco's hair lightly. "Unfortunately you'll have to go back to class. But not for a while, Draco. Go to sleep now; I'll bring you Dolly after I teach the Ravenclaws."

The look that gained him was worth every moment spent pleasing Draco. The boy turned his head, kissed Severus's fingers and snuggled down into the bed. "I'll sleep until you come back," he promised, pale lashes fluttering down to his cheeks. "But I wish I could just stay with you."

No one could believe that such a bratty child could turn anyone's heart, let alone Professor Snape's heart, into a puddle at his feet. Severus felt it, though, pride and warmth mixing with protectiveness as he cast a light spell to push Draco over into sleep. By the time he walked from the infirmary, the boy was breathing evenly and clearly, and would likely remain that way until he returned.

---

"I'm really going to get to stay through Yule!?" Draco asked excitedly, whole face lit up with joy at the thought of being allowed to stay in school with Severus over the holiday. "You promise!?"

"Yes, but shh... At least have the courtesy towards me to act as sick as you are," Severus half teased, though he did have to look over his shoulder to make sure Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear him.

"But it's wonderful!" Draco told him, puffing up in that adorable way that always made Severus want to laugh and give him anything he wanted. "It's been so long since I had you for Yule, and I get you all to myself this way!"

"A year, Draco," Severus murmured with amusement, as he sat down smoothly into the chair beside Draco's bed. Still a little warm, probably from where Madam Pomfrey had sat to give Draco the 'horrible' news that he wouldn't be able to return home for the holiday. It was probably the best news Draco had received in weeks. "And you will study while you're here."

"Ohhh...." Draco's lips puckered into a pout, the most pitiful expression cast up at Severus. "Will you help me, then?" he asked enthusiastically. Time spent with Severus -- how magnificent!

"Only in subjects that require it." He was trying to sound staunch, trying not to sound as much of a favoritist as he was. It didn't work very well; only gained him that silvery-eyed look that told him that Draco knew as well as he did that he could get away with anything. It was a good thing that the boy generally kept out of trouble.

"I hate the infirmary," Draco decided, changing the subject. "I've been here twice this year. They're going to start calling me Potter at this rate!"

"Only if you lose your eyesight before the next time you come in here." Severus leaned nearer, lingering before he plucked Dolly out of the pile that was Draco's bedding. "Haven't you enough books?"

"I think Madam Pomfrey would be upset if I brought my favorite one down, so I've had to make do with the boring ones," Draco said, lower lip turning outward poutily.

"Your favorite one would be...?" He was half afraid to know. Poppy's reaction to his own early dabblings in dark arts had been... most amusing, retrospectively.

A flush settled over those fine, pointed features and Draco leaned close to him, mouth parted to whisper out the answer. "The Glittering Wands series. I'm up to the fourth book now, you know!"

"Oh, Merlin, Draco..." It wasn't that the Glittering Wands series were shameless books of wizard on wizard porn that made Severus make that faintly aghast noise; it was that they were tasteless, arguably barely literate works of... trash. Which meant the books had to be a gift from Narcissa to the boy.

"What?" Draco asked him a little defensively, not losing his smile in the least though he turned an even deeper red as he grinned unrepentantly at Severus. "Mummy said it was full of things a boy might just need to know later in life."

Or, sooner in life, given Draco's Veela blood. "Oh, I believe she's right," Severus had to agree, even as he turned that thought over and over again in his mind. "And when you start to use that knowledge, Draco, I'd rather for your sake that you keep it discreet."

"Why? Is there something wrong with it?" Draco asked him with no small amount of surprise and a very apparent sort of worry.

"Draco Malfoy, do you think that I think there's a thing wrong with it?" Severus asked him with a bland sort of seriousness.

"No...." Draco said thoughtfully, chewing at the inside of his mouth for a moment. "But discretion implies that I should not tell anyone at all about it, and I thought if you loved someone and you slept with them, then you would want everyone to know you did?"

"People like Potter would use it against you," Severus said bluntly, laying Dolly back down in bed with Draco. "You'd never give up Dolly, would you? But you certainly wouldn't wave her about in Potter's face."

It had actually never occurred to Draco that the matter of whom one loved would be something someone might use against one, but he understood the analogy. After all, he also understood that hurting one's friends was a way to hurt one as well, something he'd often used against Potter himself. He nodded solemnly, mouth lifting slightly in acknowledgment. "I promise, then," he agreed, and the yearning look that he gave Severus passed over the man's head.

"Those you trust... should know. But I know the Gryffindors would hurt you if they ever discovered your bloodline, or that you loved anyone. They were spiteful when I was a student here, and they've been spiteful that way since I've taught here." He didn't want Draco facing sneering or any more teasing than he regularly deflected.

"I promise," Draco repeated, reaching up to pull Snape down onto the bed so that he could snuggle close to him. "Will you be telling Father that I won't be coming home for the holidays? And can I stay with you a lot?"

"I'll owl him shortly, and I suppose that you can. Most of your housemates will have gone home, so I suppose that it won't be noticed." Severus mused as he sat beside Draco. The boy was certainly keeping his bedding warm and comfortable, and it was easy to pull him closer and partake of that warmth.

"Mmmmm," Draco said happily, wrapping his arms about Severus's waist for just a moment. "I'm terribly happy now. Perhaps it should be illegal to be so happy. Father would probably make up some ungodly rule about how Malfoys are never to be this pleased with life in general if he could see me just now."

"Once, Draco... Once, your father was just as happy as you are now." Though it was so long ago it made his chest ache to contemplate. Some day, he would have to let go at last because there was nothing to hold onto any longer.

"...he's planning something, you know." It was said in a bare whisper, and Draco looked around before he said anything further. "He won't tell me who the Heir of Slytherin is, but I think Father has something to do with all of this."

"I wouldn't doubt it." Severus let his fingers stroke Draco's side lightly, over sheets and his soft silken pajamas. "Don't listen too devotedly to your father's words. They should be taken lightly at best."

"But I've always listened to him," Draco said, a pleasant shiver working its way down his spine. "It'd probably seem sort of strange if I just stopped, wouldn't it?"

"He'd blame me for it, no doubt. But doing what he says, and believing it... two entirely different notions." And he'd do anything to keep Draco from believing his father.

The blond boy nodded, leaned up and kissed his jaw. "I think perhaps you're right. I don't like Potter, and I really would like it best if he got tossed right out on his ear, but..." Thin shoulders shrugged. "I don't know. It just all seems..."

"Shhh. I know, Draco," he sighed softly, turning his face into Draco's sweet kiss. "I understand what it is to be torn between base instincts and your own wants."

Small, sharp nose rubbed lightly against Severus's lower lip and Draco sighed, the scent of cinnamon oatmeal on his breath. "Still. Yule with you will be so very nice," he murmured, deciding to ignore everything else.

"I expect you not to try to rifle my room looking for your gift." Cinnamon oatmeal meant that Draco was eating, which in turn said that he was feeling better and that most of his internal organs had to be fully functioning again. "And you are most welcome to spend evenings with me."

"If I don't rifle, may I still look?" the boy teased him, sighing with satisfaction. "I'll let you shake yours." Draco had told Narcissa what he wanted to get for Severus months before, and it had been delivered the day that Lockhart had twisted his insides into unbearable knots. There was no way so much as a giveaway tinkle or rattle would sound from his present for his cousin. It was too well-packaged.

"Not until it's been wrapped, you can't look. Which may very well be incentive for me to wrap it tonight..." Knowing that Draco was going to look for it, Severus made a note in his mind to hide it away by magical means that would at least make the boy work his mind. Perhaps he could tuck it away in a pocket of the air, with precise placing so that it truly would be hiding in plain sight.

It was a delight to see Draco so very lit up with excitement. "I'll find it," he decided happily. "No matter where you put it!"

"You must promise to not open it before Christmas Eve." Moments like that, where the vaguely brattish boy -- who was really no more brattish than he'd been when he'd been at the school, was he? -- seemed to bounce with energy gave Severus hope. Lucius couldn't cast a permanent cloud over the boy, not one that he couldn't lift.

"Severus!" Poppy called from the back of the infirmary. "You should go and let him rest!"

"Aw..." Draco protested, looking at him pitifully. "Just a little longer!"

"I believe you get to leave the infirmary tomorrow morning, Draco," Severus told him as he pressed at the boy gently, prying small hands off of himself carefully. "I shall see you then."

"Will you come and get me?" Draco asked him, and he grinned unrepentantly, knowing full well that Severus knew he was taking full advantage of the situation. It was most Slytherin of him.

Severus had to turn that thought over in his mind. "You'll be perfectly capable of finding the dorms yourself tomorrow, however... If I must." It was hard to seem put out when one was bending over to kiss a child on the forehead.

"You must," Draco agreed, grey eyes gleaming up at him. "I'll feel better about it if you do."

"Fine, you dear spoiled brat." A bare whisper against the boy's soft skin before he pulled away entirely. "He's all yours, Poppy!"

"And don't forget to come back in the morning!" Poppy yelled at him, laughing softly as Severus waved to her. Well. It was certainly nice to see Severus smile like that, wasn't it?

---

There were house-elves in his room.

Severus had specifically asked for the house-elves to never visit his rooms if he was even within hearing distance of them being in there. He had the oddest urges to straighten things behind them, to tell them not to touch this or that. And now it was very early on what he vaguely recalled was Christmas morning, and the damned things were chattering away with each other. He could hear things moving, the scrape of boxes against each other, until the general disturbance became too much.

"Would you bloody stupid things shut up, and get out of my bedroom?!"

The shrieks and skittering sounds of elves punishing themselves made him groan, especially when childish laughter cut through it. The bed bounced, the tight ropes that held his feather mattress giving as the weight of one slender, blond child climbed into bed with him. "It's Christmas, Severus! Wake up, wake up!"

He groaned, lifting his head from where it had been pressed into the pillow. "I hope you didn't drag anyone else down here with you..." That was vaguely, sleepily, threatening.

"Just me," Draco said happily, snuggling down next to him. "I made the house elves come and bring my presents. I have tons, but none of them are from you!" he pouted.

Lazily, the head of House Slytherin twisted in his sheets, slitting open his eyes. "Well, I'd thought you were going to help yourself to it. Didn't you find it?"

"You hid it too well!" Draco protested, eyes gleaming in the light coming from Severus's open bathroom door. "You know I haven't found it yet!"

"Too well for a Malfoy to find? Even a sneaky Malfoy? Well, well," Severus sneered a little, closing his eyes again for a moment before he started to sit up.

"I'm not sneaky!" Draco protested before smiling sheepishly. "Well, perhaps I'm a bit sneaky. But I didn't find it. I'm still not sure you didn't make it invisible and hide it somewhere above my reach!"

"And if I tell you that's just what I did?" Severus stretched languidly, the bones of his neck and mid-back popping slightly as he tried to stretch them out.

"Then you're a sneakier Snape than I am a sneaky Malfoy!" Draco told him earnestly, nodding.

"Never forget an opponent's weak points. Yours being that you only jump but so high, Draco, and that your unconcealing spells are faulty at best." He petted Draco's hair for a moment before he finally rolled from the bed, tugging his nightshirt back into place properly before he walked to the corner where the wrapped box was.

The boy didn't take offense, only laughed and rolled into the warm spot on the bed, nuzzling himself close into Severus's covers. "I should have brought my broom in to help me, then!" he teased, hair standing up wildly the way it had when he was little.

"Perhaps. Have you been up for long yet?" Severus looked over his shoulder as he removed the spell that concealed the package, and he let it hang in the air above his half-raised hand.

"Long enough to fetch the house-elves and make them bring my presents," Draco told him sleepily. "They're over there, next to yours." Narcissa always sent Severus several presents, and the other teachers often gave him things, as well, practical gifts like coffee that was special in some way or another, or tea that was lightly enchanted for concentration.

Or a card acknowledging his existence -- that would've been nice to get from Lucius, because he sent at least that every year. "Why don't I summon breakfast for us both, and then we can open presents?" he suggested and half asked as he pulled Draco's gift from the air.

"Can I open your present before we eat?" Draco asked him, not really wanting a yes in reply to that question. Now that it was time to open the gift, he wanted to wait just a little while longer before finding out what was inside.

"You've gone this long, Draco, surely you can wait a few more minutes," Severus said in a mock disapproving tone, as he padded to the rack on the back of the door, and pulled his dressing gown down. Draco's gift was tucked firmly under his arm, where it was safe from the boy's eager fingers.

"Mmmmm, if you make me," the boy said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "May we have breakfast, then? French toast?"

"Mm, French toast and... what juice?" He wandered back towards Draco, laid the gift on his pillow, and pulled his wand out from beneath the pillow. "Your lungs seem better."

"Can I have milk, since I'm better?" Draco requested, tilting his head to the side. "Juice will taste funny with the syrup!"

"No milk yet, Draco, but I believe... that you enjoy chocolate flavored tea? It goes well with syrup." That wasn't something the house-elves had, but he could brew it himself in a matter of no time at all. Well worth the little effort it would take to prevent Draco from coughing for hours on end.

"Please!" That was so enthusiastic, and the boy slipped out of the bed, eager now. "May I open some of my other presents while you make it?"

"No doubt your mother's gifts are ready to unwrap themselves by now. Yes, open them," Severus bade him gently, even as he told the house-elves what he wanted with a quick summoning spell.

Draco nearly squealed with glee, and by the time breakfast arrived, a jumble of expensive ribbons and papers resided on the floor of Severus's bedroom. Presents were scattered all around Draco -- socks, underwear, new robes, more of those atrocious Glittering Wands novels, and several magical toys. There was still no end in sight to the things he had to open, either... one of the many delights of being an only child in a rich family.

No one ever doubted that Draco Malfoy was spoiled rotten. Severus opened his door to half-snatch the tray of food from a tired-looking house-elf, and closed the door once more. "You should cast a neatening spell so you don't spill on any of that," the professor chided.

"I won't spill on anything!" Draco promised, fishing out his wand and giving it a flick. The paper and ribbons all popped out of existence, and the presents themselves stacked up neatly as Severus had suggested. "There!"

"You're right, now you won't." He laid the tray down in front of Draco, then retrieved the pot of chocolate tea for them both. Sitting down in front of the boy, cross-legged and near, was something that he'd done every holiday but the last one, when Lucius had decided that Severus saw Draco enough and was no longer allowed to see him during holidays. It had nearly devastated the boy, and Narcissa had claimed that he'd thrown a fit worthy of the name Malfoy... not that it had changed Lucius's mind.

Contentedly, Draco took his plate full of French toast and waited for the cup of tea Severus poured him before he began. "You have to open my present last," he declared seriously, looking across at Severus.

Severus took a sip of the chocolate enriched stuff, nodding to Draco's demand gracefully. "Because it will no doubt be the best." Most treasured, at least.

"Of course!" Draco agreed with him, beginning to eat. "I thought about it very hard. I wanted it to be special, just for you!"

Merlin help them both if it was another voodoo sort of doll, because the idea never worked out properly, no matter how much he wanted to hope that it did. "I'm sure it's very special, Draco. Finish your toast, and I'll start to open the gifts your mother sent."

"Mmmshr," Draco replied around a bite of powder sugared toast. He swallowed and pointed to a green one. "Start with the big ones?"

From Narcissa, of course. Sometimes he regretted his early treatment of her, but knew that as time had passed, the ground between them had grown painfully level. They both actively cherished the boy that was sitting in front of him, and both missed the 'old' Lucius Malfoy. "Your mother always sends the nicest things, Draco."

"Mmm!" Draco agreed. "She told me what she was getting you this year!" he said, smirking with pleasure at the thought. "She even took me along to do some of the shopping this summer. It was lots of fun to buy things for you."

"You're going to spoil the surprise for me before I even open it, aren't you?" Severus let his fingers linger over the wrapping paper, poised to rip into the largest package.

"I'm trying not to!" Draco protested, lifting his teacup. "You simply aren't moving quickly enough!"

"Then I'll take my time," Severus drawled as he started to slip open the wrapping paper at its magical seals. Carefully, carefully, the paper fell away from the box, and Severus set aside the wrapping before he opened the lid.

Frustrating, it was so frustrating! Severus hadn't even lifted off the tissue paper yet. "Sev-er-uus!" Draco whined. "Open, open, OPEN!"

"Expositus!" The paper gave way, and the sides of the box fell aside to the sound of the boy's delight, revealing the present inside. Folded neatly robes, richly colored, not at all the black that Severus wore all the time at school.

"Mother says you ought to occasionally try dark greens and purples," Draco informed him primly.

"Well." Severus couldn't help but smile as he pulled the green one from the top. "I'll wear it right after the holiday is over, Draco... Just to try."

"Now open the rest!" the boy demanded, and started shoveling presents at him, threatening to open them himself as he laughed at the way Severus LOOKED at the robes.

It was a rush after that, prodded by Draco between sips of tea and bites of French toast, to open the rest of his gifts. Narcissa had given him new robes, new boots, soaps and shampoos, teas and tins of muggle candies mixed in with wizarding ones. The other teachers had given him quills, papers, Albus had given him socks -- of all things -- and Minerva had given him a pensieve.

As if he'd ever use the damnable thing.

"Now mine!" The package, wrapped up in silver paper and silver ribbons, was delivered into his lap, Draco practically holding his breath in excitement. "It's your last one. And then I'll open yours!"

"I'll take my time with this one..." Severus fairly purred it, as he leaned back a little on one hand, and started to idly pick the wrapping apart.

Draco just knew he wouldn't be able to stand even another minute of watching. He groaned, dropped onto his back on the floor and shook his head. "Tell me when it's open! I can't bear to watch, you're so slow!"

"Are you always in such a rush, Draco?" The wrapping was set aside, and he lightly lifted the lid from the box.

"Only when I want you to see something so badly," the boy sighed, sitting up at the sound of sliding wood.

Revealed inside a rosewood box nestled in velvet lay a set of potion phials; not just any potion phials, but exquisite things carved delicately in precious and semi-precious gems. There were twelve in all, diamond and ruby and sapphire, emerald and amethyst and turquoise, aquamarine and topaz and peridot, pearl and opal and thinly sheened bloodstone.

"Oh..." A soft, almost warble of surprise left Severus as he looked over the vials. Potions stored in gemstones simply didn't go bad, and often acquired new properties with it... Black eyes were widened with delight and surprise as he looked up to Draco. "Thank you. Merlin, thank you."

"I knew you'd like it!" Draco crowed, and flung himself over sticky plates and cups to hug Severus tightly, the phials pressed tightly between them.

Severus slid the box over to safety, then crushed Draco closer. "Thank you, Draco -- it's a gift I most appreciate. So beautiful..."

"May I open yours now?" Draco asked him, a damp little whisper in his ear, thin arms wrapped close around Severus's neck.

He shivered slightly at the way that Draco suddenly had slunk against him, warm and enticing without knowing it. "Yes, please do. I can only hope you'll enjoy it..."

Draco's lips caressed over Severus's earlobe as he spoke again. "Is it something... exciting?"

"That would depend on your definition of the word... And there are certain gifts that just cannot be given." Not in a school environment, anyway.

The boy pulled away from him with a laugh, and impressions that had tilted, slid, changed for just a moment were firmly back in place as he reached for the last present and ripped it open, yelling with glee. "I LOVE this game! How did you know I didn't have it?"

"There's something you don't have?" Severus laughed, hands folding, twisting together in his lap. "I was hoping you'd like it. It's spelled a bit more than the usual version..."

"May we play?" Draco pleaded, opening the box in its entirety and staring at the bank full of galleons and sickles and knuts (all fake, but still fascinating), the little plots of Hogsmeade and Godric's Hollow and Azkaban, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang. The Hogwarts Express even chugged along in one square, and he yelped excitedly as the flatness of the board changed into something quite real. "It's wonderful!"

"How about we play, Draco, when..." Severus finally looked over to a clock, and let slip a vaguely frustrated sigh. He'd known it was terribly early. "When the sun's risen, hmn?"

"Can I go back to bed with you?" Draco asked, knowing that the answer would be yes.

"I suppose you may." A wave of his wand stacked gifts neatly, to be gone through and looked over when they were both less tired. The chocolate in the tea had made them both muzzier, and he was glad to have served it to them both.

Arms slid about him again, Draco's head on his shoulder. "Carry me," he demanded. Such a brat, the potions professor noted.

"You're a bugger," Severus growled as he shifted to pick up Draco. "You're lucky you're light."

"But you love me," Draco answered him unrepentantly, wrapping himself around Severus in response to being lifted. "Tell the truth!"

"I love you. I should, too, given what trouble you've been over the years," he murmured.

"Mmmhmmm," Draco agreed smugly as they settled into the bed, feather mattress coming up around them to cradle them together. "And you'll play with me when we wake up?"

Severus was already closing his eyes, but he managed to nod his head. "Of course I will. I hadn't planned on anything else today."

And if there were any less than innocent thoughts behind Draco's request, Severus missed them.

---

"NO!!!" That was a frustrated shriek, Draco's voice echoing down the hallway from the room where he was meeting with Lucius. It couldn't possibly be a good sign. Draco, screaming, shrieking anything, set Severus's nerves on edge. He couldn't help but be drawn towards the sound, a hand lingering on the door's knob as he waited for the next sounds.

"Yes, he's gone -- it can't be changed, he's free!"

"WHY did you do it!? Why! Is it because he's mine!? It's because you caught him playing in the garden with me last summer, isn't it!?" Draco yelled, and the sound of it bordered disturbingly on the hysterically, sounding much like Narcissa in similar moods.

"No, it was just something that needed to be done," Lucius hissed. "Now stop bawling!"

"I don't want to stop crying! I won't, I won't, I WON'T!" The sound raised to an outright scream, and Severus was fairly certain that he heard something thrown and subsequently broken. "I HATE you!"

"Lucius, what've you done now?" He finally had to open the door, stepped into the room and quickly closed it behind him, as he looked at his old lover with soured amusement.

"That Potter brat tricked me into giving Dobby a sock," Lucius sighed, one hand rubbing at his temple. Whatever Severus had heard breaking obviously wasn't the first thing to be thrown, as Draco seemed to be in the middle of a fine fit of temper.

"He didn't! You did it on purpose! You're not so s-s-stupid that Potter would trick you!" Draco cried.

"Perhaps he is," Severus drawled, not sure why he was even trying to be conciliatory for Lucius's sake. He moved towards Draco where Lucius didn't, though, and reached a hand out to touch his scrunched, tear wet, and screaming reddened face.

"He lost my Dobby!" the boy wailed, and promptly flung himself into Severus, sobbing.

"Oh, fucking Merlin, boy, stop all of that useless weeping!" Lucius groaned, giving Severus a look of pure, pitiful harassment.

"Lucius, Dobby was his servant," Severus reminded slightly sharply, kneeling to put himself on level with the boy. "Shh, Draco. Don't cry so..." His fingers slipped into the boy's hair, stroked and held him close in a weak attempt to soothe his shaking nerves. Tears weren't something that could just be stopped. They had to peter off on their own.

"Don't you think I know that?" Lucius replied, looking frustrated at the sight of his son wrapped up in Severus's arms. "I didn't mean to give him the damned sock. Potter stuffed a book into it and handed it to me."

"Well if y-you h-hadn't g-given that b-book to the We-Weasley brat...!" Draco sniffled, smearing his snotty nose against Severus's shoulder.

Severus didn't seem to care, not with the disgusting things he often worked in. Snot was probably one of the least offensive things that he'd have to clean from his robes. "Book--" Severus cut himself off, looking at Lucius with a wide-eyed glare. "You..."

"Don't... harangue me," Lucius sighed. "Just don't, Severus."

"I'd hoped you'd stopped doing what I put my neck on the line to stop, you ungrateful bugger!" he scowled, still holding Draco close, despite the urge to jolt to his feet and strangle Lucius.

"Oh, bloody hell," Lucius cursed as Draco continued to hiccough in Severus's arms. "Don't lecture me, Severus Badminster Snape!"

"S-somebody o-ought to," Draco sniffled.

"Why shouldn't I? You haven't learned anything, have you Lucius?" His hand slid down the line of Draco's back, smoothingly soothing as he glared at Lucius. "Planning to murder and terrify children, Lucius? I'd thought you were a bigger man than that."

The urge to smack Severus was rather obvious on Lucius's face. "Why I even attempt to speak with you anymore is beyond me!" he snapped out, scowling. "Draco, go get your things together. It's time to go home, anyway."

"No!" Draco disagreed. "I don't want to go home with you! Dobby isn't there!"

"Draco..." Severus pulled back a little, still kneeling in front of the boy, hands on his shoulders. "I think your mother would prefer you went home this summer. Who knows what Lucius wants, other than to bring this school down, because he lost his mind years ago."

"I have not lost my mind!" Lucius protested, and Severus was quite frankly surprised that it wasn't accompanied by a stomp of his foot.

"Then what were you doing? I don't like Potter any more than you do, but I'm not trying to decimate the school's population to kill him! That's madness, Lucius." He finally stood smoothly, to stand slightly in front of Lucius.

"They were just Mudbloods," Lucius told him coldly. "None of them were really good for anything."

"A Mudblood has defeated Him time and time again, Lucius -- perhaps they don't have the money we have, but there are Mudbloods even in Slytherin. One in particular that I can think of that hasn't been good for much." That last hissed out from through his teeth, anger surging slowly through him. He couldn't stand Lucius's rhetoric any longer, couldn't swallow or ignore it.

The older blond's face closed off, turning cold at Severus's words. "Fine," he said, voice clipped as he spoke. "Draco, if you don't get your things immediately, you will certainly regret it by the time I get you home. Severus. I assume you'll let your..." A sneer crossed his face. "EMPLOYER know that I have removed my son, as all important testing matters are done with for the year."

"Draco, run and pack your bags," Severus bade, pushing him slightly with the hand on his shoulder. "I'll finish talking with your father in private."

Giving a last, soft sniffle, Draco obeyed, leaving the room to the two older wizards.

"Well?" Lucius said softly. "Going to take me to task?"

"You must practice ways to suck the joy out of his life," Severus muttered. "It's bad enough that perfect Potter just naturally shows up everyone in the school, but you just have to make things worse for your own child, don't you? When did you become such a bastard, Lucius Malfoy, and why didn't I see this sooner?"

"I'm not trying to make things horrid for him," Lucius replied. "Only I don't want him disillusioned the way you and I were. If he knows that life is difficult and unpleasant, he'll never have to face that horrible feeling when the rug is jerked out from beneath his feet."

"If you'd stop undermining my work, Lucius, there wouldn't be a rug to pull out from under him. I know, now, that you're helping Him. Why? So he can gain power and hurt your child? If I find out that a hair on his head has been harmed, Lucius, you'll be turned over to the ministry faster than you can blink."

Malfoy had turned completely white. "I am not helping Him! He's dead, Severus, the Potter boy destroyed Him! However, eventually, someone has to come along and replace Him...."

"Draco doesn't have the strength of body for it." He knew it just as well as Madam Pomfrey, and as well as Lucius would, if he'd pull his head out of his ass. Severus doubted that would happen soon, or at all. "Or the predilection for curses."

"He will have," Lucius said. "I'll find a way to make him stronger, to teach him what he needs to know. You will not stand in my way, Severus!"

"I believe that I will, Lucius. I know how you think strength is developed, and I won't have him harmed. Let the child choose his own path." This was because Lucius hadn't been able to live his own life, to do what he wanted... "Not yours."

"He's not your child, Severus. You can't tell me what to do with him."

"I'll be damned he's not mine!" He finally surged forwards, grabbing the front of Lucius's shirt. "I've done more for him than would ever come to your yes man mind!"

"Fuck you, Severus! Let go of me!" Lucius hissed. "Before I bloody well do something you and I will both regret!"

"Like what?" Severus snarled, bringing his other hand up to press over Lucius's heart. Magic fluttered at his fingertips, threatening at Lucius's heart. "I'll kill you first. You're wrong if you think you can overpower me."

"Maybe not," the answer came silkily, "but I can do this." And lips met his, soft, tender, so much the way they used to do, and took him completely off guard.

"I hate you," Severus whispered, still not letting him go, or removing the threat when the kiss tapered off. It had been nigh on impossible not to react, not to move into that press, to want to fall for it again. It seemed like Lucius of before, but he wasn't going to stumble into that old trap again. "I hate what you've become."

The smile that got him was slow, cheerless, not quite truthful. "And I hate you, for betraying me and everything for which we stood. Everything for which I still stand. And that's not ever going to change."

"You betrayed me first, with your lies and promises to protect me." He let go of Lucius, expression one of tight disgust and misery. "Get out of here before I 'betray' you again."

"Fine," Lucius sneered. "I'll make sure to abandon you as quickly as you abandoned me."

"Severus?" That was Draco's voice, a tiny, miserable sound from the nearby doorway. Who could say how long he had been there watching, his trunk deposited behind him, Dolly clutched tightly in his arms and heartbreak on his face?

He turned, eyes flared a little before they closed. Ah, not what he'd wanted Draco to see. And he wasn't done with Lucius yet. "I didn't abandon you, Lucius. You abandoned me when you decided power was more important than love and friendship. I abandoned you when Draco was born, and because of it, you're alive, you ungrateful bastard." It was hard to look to Draco after that, but he did, moved towards the child. "Draco -- have a nice vacation, and don't forget to owl me."

There was no way he would forget the expression of pure misery on the boy's face anytime soon, though. No... There wasn't any way for him to forget it. "I'm not going home!" Draco sobbed, shaking his head wildly and turning to run, leaving the two of them behind.

"Dammit," Lucius whispered. "Bloody fucking hell."

---

"Why aren't you nice to Severus, Father, if you want to kiss him?" It was a hard little question, Draco's voice serious and rigid.

"Draco, I've told you that I don't want to talk to you about that." Lucius's voice was hard as he took his reading glasses off, and set down a sheaf of investment return statements.

"I don't recall saying that I cared whether you wanted to talk to me about it or not!" Draco replied, seating himself in one of the chairs across from his father's desk. They were purposely uncomfortable for the sake of running out unwanted visitors -- usually Severus.

"It's an adult thing, Draco -- you wouldn't understand."

A sneer crossed the boy's face. "It's always an adult thing when you don't want to explain something, isn't it, Father? 'No, you may not see Severus for Yule this year, you see him too much as it is', and never mind that he's always come for Yule before. 'No, my son is a complete moron, even a Mudblood could beat him', and never mind that I have the second highest grade in my entire year. 'No, you may not come to dinner tonight, you must practice your curses', 'No, you may not see your mother this evening, you must strengthen your lungs', and I've never understood that because I breathe, don't I? And what else can I do? Nothing I do makes you happy with me! Perhaps I don't understand, but if you never tell me things, how can I ever?"

Children. There was a reason, Lucius recalled, why he'd been so hesitant to have one. Expression tense, Draco's father sighed, tenting his fingers in front of him. "I only want you to be the best."

"And you think that making me feel stupid will do that?" Draco asked, one brow rising in cool imitation of his father. "Or denying me Severus and Mummy, that will make me the best?"

"They're poor influences on you," Lucius sighed tensely.

"And you're better, I suppose, making me feel stupid and like you don't want me..."

"I don't want your pride to run away with you," Lucius sighed, a hand creeping up to the bridge of his nose. His sinuses felt as if they were going to explode.

"A little late for that, I think, since I seem to be developing into a miniature version of you, thanks. Now. Back to the original question. Why, if you want to kiss him, aren't you properly nice to Severus?" Draco asked.

"Back to what I've said before, you wouldn't understand what's going on." It was hard not to be frustrated when one's son was being a smart mouth.

"And I repeat, if you won't talk to me and tell me things, how will I ever understand!? Mummy tells me things. She's been teaching me about being Veela and everything...."

"But has she really taught you about being Veela?" Lucius laid both hands down on the desk, leaning towards his son. "Ask what you want to know, and I'll answer."

"Why aren't you nicer to Severus if you want to kiss him? I'm nice to Severus and he doesn't let me kiss him." Well, not like Lucius had been kissing him, anyway. Pecks on the cheek were simply different.

"Severus and I have a history. Things have changed, so occasionally, I miss how things were. Does that satisfy your question?"

"Not really," Draco said. "He gave me a book when I was nine, you know. 'Veela, Voluptuous Vixens of the Wizarding World'. That told me lots of things."

"HE gave you that?" Lucius looked scandalized for a moment. "I'd thought your mother had given that to you?"

"Mummy said she hadn't ever heard of it. She gave me Glittering Wands instead," Draco replied smugly. "You've never told me anything at all about it."

"So this is what you're here about," Lucius groaned, pushing away from his desk and to his feet. "Just be straightforward!"

"No," Draco disagreed. "I just wanted to know why you aren't nice to Severus. Anything else you tell me will be appreciated but likely will not be the answer to my question, knowing you."

"Because he betrayed the cause that we worked for," Lucius sighed, as he sat on his desk in front of his son. The desk itself was more comfortable than the chair Draco sat on.

"The Dark Lord, you mean," Draco said, and he was suddenly just a bit nervous. He made a lot of noise at school about Dark Arts and his father, but the mere thought of Volde... You-Know-Who made him nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

"Yes. He faked devotion for who knew how many years, all the while betraying our Lord to the ministry. Friends died, were captured and killed, because of him."

"But he said you betrayed him first..." Draco murmured.

"I don't know what he's talking about," Lucius denied -- though it tickled at the back of his mind, the truth of what had happened.

"And if I asked him, is that what he would say?" his son asked with a quiet solemnity.

"Things happened, Draco. Things that you don't want to know." Things that he didn't want Draco to know, or ever hear of.

"But I do want to know! I want to know about what happened and why you don't like him anymore even though you kiss him. And I want to know why I feel so strangely all the time now. And I need to know so many things!" Draco sighed.

"Severus..." Lucius leaned closer to Draco, cupping the side of the boy's face in his hand. "Severus used to get very frustrated when he needed to know something and couldn't find out. Until Hogwarts, he'd lived in a box of books, and we became friends on his first day there. He was a dangerous, brilliant, eccentric boy, small with big eyes and a vaguely pretty face."

The notion of Severus as pretty was mind-boggling. He wasn't ugly, exactly, more like unique, enrapturing, some word that he couldn't quite grasp. But... pretty? "I get frustrated, too," Draco told his father softly.

"I know. You'll be less frustrated if you'll let me finish speaking," Lucius said a bit severely, hand still on his child's cheek. Grey eyes just like Draco's closed. "Severus trusted me completely, looked up to me, and befriended me entirely. When he reached second year, I believe it was, I kissed him, and... things just fell into place. The headmaster of the school gave Severus a copy of 'Voluptuous Veela', and we became lovers as well as friends."

That seemed to trouble his son, the faint tremble in the flesh he touched felt beneath those fingertips. "What made you not love one another anymore, Father?"

"Summer of my fifth year at Hogwarts, Voldemort arranged for your mother to visit here at the manor for two weeks. He took Severus with him for those two weeks, and when Severus came back..." Lucius pulled his hand back, resting it on the desk to lean back on. "He'd come back hurt. I promised him that I'd protect him, but we both knew I couldn't do anything but what I was told to do."

"Hurt?" The word seemed tiny, small the way that Draco was, and it reminded Lucius that Draco wasn't very old nor very big.... No, and no matter what he wanted, that wasn't likely to change. Severus was right about that.

"Voldemort had..." Lucius sighed, not wanting to say it; but perhaps a truthful answer would make Draco stop asking questions. "Forced sex on Severus, and tortured him during those two weeks. But he came back stronger for it."

"I don't see how that would make you stronger," Draco whispered, face even more pale than usual. The words obviously had a deep effect upon him -- they were things one simply wasn't supposed to know about teachers, or vague family.

"Well, you'd've had to know Severus... before..." Lucius took a steeling breath. "He was... different then. Nothing could hurt him, and after... No, it didn't make him stronger. Only angry."

"And hurt?" Draco said to him. "That would make anyone... anyone hurt..."

"Mmm. But there wasn't anything to do for it, because He had decided that Severus would serve Him that way. And he did, until he graduated from Hogwarts a year after me. Then he, your mother and I started to work on making it possible for you to be born. It took two years, and at some point during that time, he must've defected."

"But why would he have? What did you do to him?" It seemed obvious to Draco that Lucius must have done something. Severus wasn't the kind of man to betray someone for no good reason.

"He withdrew, and did nothing but research. Our tastes... went in different directions. I grew tired of his selfishness." It wasn't a direct answer to the question, but Lucius simply wasn't going to put up with Draco asking things that way. "He refused to grow up and realize that the world inside of his head was different from reality."

"But why does it have to be different? In the real world, I get everything I want. In my head, I get everything I want. What's the difference?" his son asked, confusion written upon his face.

"For you, it isn't. For Severus..." Lucius shrugged tiredly, laying a hand on Draco's shoulder lightly. "He wanted something that we couldn't have. He didn't want me to marry your mother, or to ever have children, or... a number of things that did happen."

"But what's wrong with not having children? If you don't like them or want to do that with a girl?" Draco asked him, looking up at him solemnly. "And why can I have everything I want, but Severus can't?"

"Because it was things that just couldn't be had. A toy can be held in your hand, Draco, or a book, or a game, but someone's fate is a bit different."

Stubbornly, Draco shook his head. "Not if you want it badly enough. You can have anything if you work to get it enough, can't you? You've always told me it was so."

Lucius detested having his words thrown back in his face. "Other people wanted other things than he wanted."

"But why would someone else's desires be more important, if you loved him, Father?"

"Draco...." He wanted to bribe the boy to get him to leave, anything to stop the conversation. "Because I wanted to marry, and I wanted a child, though there are days where you almost make me regret that decision, and I wanted to be a powerful, influential man."

That seemed to strike some chord in the boy, grey eyes identical to his own peering at him for a long moment before Draco sighed. "All right," he said, looking quite seriously at Lucius. "Is there anything that you'd like to tell me? About being Veela, I mean. In case Mummy and Severus don't know everything."

Insulting again, though Lucius bit back any sharp remarks in return. "Have you felt a... burn yet?"

A flush chased quickly over pale cheeks. "Like being incinerated from the inside out."

"That would be the burn," Lucius murmured. "It's unhealthy for you to deny what it wants you to do."

A hollow laugh burst from those lips. "There's no one here but Mummy and you, Father. What I want to do isn't exactly kosher, considering the situation."

"Then go to your room and jerk off," Lucius muttered. "And satisfy it better in the school year."

Crimson crept over Draco's cheeks and nose, likely running all the way down to his toes. He rolled his eyes in frustration. "Thank you for your excellent advice, Father. Maybe I'll go out and hunt down Sirius Black, too, while I'm taking good advice."

Lucius just slipped away from Draco, to sit behind his desk again. "Do what you please -- but at least have the grace to find a willing partner when you return to Hogwarts."

With a visible shrug, his son stood and strode towards the foyer. It would have been a much more impressive sort of exit had he not been the size of a ten year old. "Next time I have questions, I think I'll just ask a house-elf," he muttered as he shut the study door behind him. "It'd be just about as forthcoming."

---

"What happened to him?" Severus demanded of Poppy, as he burst into the infirmary. "All I've heard is that it was the fucking groundskeeper again, fouling up..."

"Severus, he'll be fine," Poppy reassured him, standing between him and Draco's curtained bedside. "He's just had a nasty injury. Try not to rile him up, please? The poor boy was quite hysterical and he was bleeding badly when he was brought in. I'm afraid he said something a hippogriff took to be rude, and you know how they are..."

"They're NOT to be trusted around children!" he growled in sharp frustration. "The headmaster will hear of this AND his father..."

"Yes, yes," the medi-witch groaned. "Severus, I've already heard all about his father before I could give him a sleeping potion. I have an awful headache. His arm is partially healed and should be mostly restored by morning. It really isn't the end of the world!"

Severus gave a shaky sigh, anger fading into stress-lines around his face. "Why don't these things happen to students in other houses? Let me see him, Poppy."

"They do happen to other children, Severus," she said, turning to escort him to the curtained bed. "It's just that they usually happen to Harry Potter and the Weasley twins most."

"Yes, well, the twins usually deserve it," Severus pointed out as he moved around the curtain. Draco's eyes were closed, in what he assumed was slumber. "He's so small..."

"He'll be fine," she reassured him, watching pale lashes flutter slightly. "You may wake him if he's willing, but make sure you give him more of the sleeping draught when you leave, Severus, and don't keep him up very long."

"I won't." He drew the curtain closed behind him, and it only took a gentle spark of magic to rouse Draco back to consciousness.

"Ow..." It was a quietly spoken whimper. "Severus.... I want..."

Severus smiled a bit grimly to himself as he perched on the edge of the bed. "Not even awake yet, and you want things, Draco?"

"I want you," Draco sighed a little groggily, blinking his eyes open. The pupils were dilated with sleep and whatever pain potion Poppy had undoubtedly given him, and the boy smiled with a great deal of warmth, nuzzling against him with fingers. "Stay."

The potions professor clutched those fingers gently, noting that they weren't the fingers of Draco's hurt arm. "I will. Will you tell me what happened?"

"Stupid hippogriff," Draco muttered a bit drunkenly. "It bit me." More like tried to tear the lower half of his arm off, though most of the students hadn't seen how very bad it actually was thanks to his sleeve and the great flow of blood. "I didn't mean to make it mad. That big oaf didn't say it spoke English..."

"Shhh. Trust me that it will be taken care of, Draco. It won't bite anyone else, your father and I will see to that." Being angered was no reason to try to kill a student.

"Mmmmm." The boy was nearly purring in his half-drugged state, and his fingers were rubbing carefully at Severus's, stroking the palm as he sighed with a certain pleasure. "Stay?"

A shift of motion on the bed, his professor sitting closer to him, told him that he was getting what he wanted. "I'll keep you company until my next class."

"Always," Draco muttered sleepily, injured arm attempting to come off of the mattress and making him whimper.

"Keep that still." With a careful touch, Severus pressed it back onto the mattress. He so hated to see Draco hurting, even accidental as that motion. "You don't have to move -- I'm not going."

A sigh and another nuzzle against him came. "Love you," Draco muttered, the sound unclear. "Father's an idiot."

"Oh, he is?" Draco wouldn't recall his drug-hazed mutterings, so it was safe to question him a little. Later, there would be no embarrassment for either of them.

"Mhm." For a moment, it seemed that the boy would say no more, but then he rambled farther. "I wouldn't give you up for power or money or anything. So Father must be really, really stupid."

Severus squeezed Draco's fingers lightly, even as his head reeled from that simple, slightly slurred, statement. "I'd hate it if you did, Draco. There's no sense in losing a friend over any of that."

"Hmm-mmm. More," Draco said, and those dilated eyes opened, the boy looking up at him. "Would you kiss me?"

Severus let his own eyes close slightly, hesitant. "Are you asking for a kiss on your forehead?"

"Mmm, no," Draco told him, turning up his face, lips poutily presented. "On my mouth."

"Dare I ask what brought this urge on?" Severus leaned nearer, waiting to find out of Draco's soft request was a joke.

"Burning..." It was only a single word, but it was more than enough to let Severus know what was going on. "So hot..."

Then it had started for Draco. How fitting to have two generations of Malfoy turn to him, and how it made his heart shiver in pain. When that stage was moved beyond, then there was nothing again, then Draco would, what, become Lucius once more? Those were thoughts that had to be shoved down, as he leaned in to gently catch Draco's mouth in his, hoping all the while that Poppy didn't decide to return then.

The boy's lips opened to his willingly, awkwardly, soft and hot and wet and lax. He could feel little shivers rippling through Draco, could feel the trembling of that small body from where he was. Sighs spilled out against his own mouth, small pointed nose rubbing against his cheek. "Mmmmm..."

Inexperienced, but there was an honesty to the kiss that was astonishing, long unfelt in those motions. Severus let his eyes close the rest of the way, and began to gently guide Draco's mouth with his own soft motions, urging Draco into a little participation. Small tongue darted out in response, lightly flickering past his teeth and tentatively rubbing against his own, lips sucking tenderly for a moment before the boy pulled back, obviously drained as he sighed, eyes closing.

Severus squeezed Draco's hand again, now worried more than he'd been before. He needed to... talk to someone, something, to... No, no, no one needed to know. Lucius probably wouldn't take issue with it, knowing his son as he did. And what a nice kiss. It was hard not to linger, and he did brush a motion of mouth against mouth to the boy's lips, then his temple. "I'm going to give you a little sleeping draught, Draco."

"Mmmkay." It was slurred, sleepy, but the boy seemed quite satisfied. Perhaps the burning wasn't on him hard, yet...

Yet. Merlin help him if Draco decided seriously for him to be target of it, though that was so painfully laughable when Severus thought on it. It wouldn't happen, and the kiss was fondness and potions meshing together. Almost grimly, Severus unstoppereed the sleeping potion, and pressed it against Draco's mouth. "Sleep, and you'll be more healed in the morning..."

"Love you," the blond whispered once he was done obediently swallowing the potion Severus gave him. "Hmmmm." That said, he was asleep before he could say anything else.

"Poppy," Severus called out quietly, as he moved beyond the curtain, closing it behind him once more, "did you perchance slip anything hallucinogenic in Draco's potion?"

"Don't be silly," she replied, looking up from her desk with no small amount of startlement. "Why would I do a thing like that? Was he in enough pain, perhaps, that he would be hallucinating?" Poppy got up quickly to check on him.

"He's asleep again," Severus told her, "though he said a few things that made me think that he's vaguely delirious." It was less painful to think that Draco had spoken through delirium than it was to face the possibility that it was real.

"Well, I'll just check on him all the same. Weren't you working on Professor Lupin's potion before? You might like to return to your work, Severus. I believe I can handle things here."

"Thank you, Poppy -- tell me if anything odd happens," Severus requested politely, as he ducked out of the infirmary entirely. Remus was another factor in life that he simply didn't want to think about. If he kept up with the 'not thinking', Severus noted to himself, his classes would soon face a mentally sotted, drooling man. That wasn't a pleasant thought, at all, and it was nearly impossible for him to 'not think', anyway. It was, however, quite possible for him to become completely lost in thought, so it was really no wonder that he nearly jumped out of his skin when Remus Lupin told him hello from behind.

"My, Severus," the werewolf said, expression deadpan. "You seem a bit jumpy."

"No more so than usual." Fifteen years between leaving Hogwarts, and meeting again had made changes on Severus that the werewolf couldn't have reckoned to see, and the other way around as well. "Is there something that you require, Professor Lupin?" Severus's voice was pitched perfectly polite as he turned and looked at Lupin.

"I thought I'd invite you to my rooms for tea." Remus's expression was extraordinarily well-modulated, containing the same sheer cordiality as Severus's, but there was something.... something just beneath it, a vague yearning, a suppressed desire.

No, perhaps it was he who'd had the hallucinogen. It certainly made more sense than what he was picking up so vaguely. "Tea? I suppose I can spare a few minutes to take tea."

"Maybe even a bit longer?" It was the same almost gentle teasing he remembered Remus having given him all of those years ago, and it made Severus shiver. How could it not, considering the way that things had turned out?

"I'd only planned on taking a few moments away from my work to check on Mr. Malfoy. But perhaps." His work being the potion Lupin would require. That could be done after classes, though, and still work just as well.

"You do have a free period now, don't you?" Remus asked courteously. "I wouldn't want to steal you away from your students, of course."

"Two free periods. Wednesday is a lazy day for me," he said, and wished that he hadn't admitted to having that time on his hands. Who knew how it would be taken away from him.

The smile on Lupin's face seemed quite predatory. "Wonderful. We can discuss a few things, then, if you don't mind? I wanted to apologize to you, among other things."

"Lupin... there isn't any point to apologizing. It occurred so long ago that I wish to leave it deep and buried," Severus muttered even as they turned and he let Lupin lead the way back to his own quarters.

"I nearly strangled Black over it," Remus sighed. "I suppose I should have known then that he wasn't a man to be trusted." He sounded quite melancholy, but he shook his head and shrugged. "I was heartbroken that you wouldn't speak to me afterwards, though I understand why."

"The circumstances were... horrible at best," Severus pointed out. "Different sides of the war that we were lucky enough to graduate into."

"At one point, I rather hoped we wouldn't separate onto different sides of anything at all," Remus told him with a wry smile as they stepped into the small sitting room Lupin had as his own. "You have to know that I wanted you, Severus."

Did he have to know? The knowledge stung to be told it so... cleanly, as much as it stung to think on. "Past is past, Remus." If his first name was going to be used, then he'd damn well use Lupin's. "And everything that was... is no more."

"Isn't it?" Those golden eyes were looking at him seriously even as a wave of Remus's wand brought a tray into existence, teapot, cups and biscuits all neatly displayed. "Not everything changes, with time."

"What've you been doing, Remus, since you graduated?" Severus didn't care that he'd sharply veered the topic as he reached for a biscuit.

"Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that. Werewolves aren't exactly considered the most employable of creatures," Lupin said dryly. "And after Sirius... Well, after he betrayed James and Lily and killed Peter, everything just seemed to fall apart more than ever before, I suppose. You?"

"Employed only by the grace of the headmaster," Severus tiredly sneered. "I may have served the greater good, but I'm most detested."

"I don't detest you," Remus pointed out calmly enough. "In fact, one could probably say that I quite the opposite of detest you."

"You're still as subtle as a nail through the head, Lupin." The old bite was there, but not the feel behind it, as Severus munched rather contentedly on his biscuit.

"Subtlety only got both of us trouble last time, Severus," the other professor replied. "I'd much rather skip past that, if you don't mind."

"Skip past it to what? Straight to sex, Lupin? I'm sure that even a... werewolf can do better than bothering with me." He reached for a cup of tea, gesturing to it. "Are you making this with cannabis, Remus? I think you've already had a few cups."

"I'm quite certain," Lupin laughed softly. "Severus, you're an attractive man in certain ways. Very charismatic, and you were when we were young, as well. It's not strange that I would be interested in you, both as a comrade for your excellent conversation, and as a lover, for all of the benefits implied therein."

"Mm." Severus dipped his next biscuit into his tea, looking as thoughtful as he was. "And if I feel like lying and saying that I'm tied up with Lucius still? Which I'm not, but since we're speaking in hypotheses, I suppose it's worth wondering."

"If you were to say such a thing, I suppose I would have to continue where I left off in convincing you that I would be a much better option than Malfoy, really," Remus said, smiling over the edge of his teacup.

"If only you hadn't left off. Life might've been much different, hmn?" Severus took a sip, then laughed a bit darkly, "Then again, without vague allegiance to either side, both would've had us stoned. Never mind."

Lupin gave him a sad sort of smile. "If you would have even looked at me, I wouldn't have left off at all. But you wouldn't."

"At the time, I was charged guilty of having been almost killed, and was on the verge of being expelled for my trespass. I don't think that I looked at anyone for the rest of the term."

"You have no idea how very sorry I was for that. It should never have happened, none of it should have. I didn't know how jealous Sirius would be or that....that he would ever be the kind of person to do that." A vacuous laugh rang from Lupin. "I suppose I did learn that finally, to James's detriment. Peter's and Lily's, too."

"He would've found them," Severus murmured. This would go over poorly, wouldn't it? He'd remain vague on the matter, then, and save them both anguish. "He was searching, and searching... Though the heir of Gryffindor might've been better served in living someplace that wasn't named after Godric. It was a bit obvious."

"True, perhaps, but if he'd been an honest Secret Keeper, it would have been more than obvious when the Secret was broken. That's the trick of it, isn't it?" Remus sighed. "But it's all old news, really, and... and it's not currently applicable to you and me, is it?"

"One could hope not. No doubt you're aware of the capacity that I served Him in... so, then it doesn't really matter."

"No," Lupin agreed gently. "It really doesn't change anything, at least insofar as my attentions to you are concerned. Say you'll think about it, Severus."

It would've been worse than insane to say 'no' then and there, but after the fright of Draco's injury, then Draco asking for a kiss... "I need time. It's been a long time, Remus, and there are things I need to think on."

"I understand," Remus replied, and those golden eyes were warm upon him. "I certainly wouldn't think any less of you if you didn't, but I have great respect for the fact that there are and you do."

"Mm. Now, Remus, if you don't mind, I have to go brew your Wolfsbane. Thank you for the tea..." That was sincere, as was his excuse to leave. He set the cup down, and gathered his robes around him as he stood.

"I'll see you soon, then," the werewolf said, and it was nice for Severus to feel wanted, almost unnerving really. He made his excuses and goodbyes once more, then slipped away to contemplate the day so far, and to work on the Wolfsbane.

---

"You always smell good," Remus whispered against his skin some months later. "Like potions and sweat and spice and... you." It was nearly purred, and if anyone knew what Severus smelled like, it would be the werewolf. They'd been rutting for nearly three months, a most pleasant occupation. It had been far too long since Severus had taken a lover.

Severus rolled from his side onto his back in a slow, lazy motion that made his spine pop a little. It was no wonder, considering that he'd been bent nearly in half moments before, choking on Remus's name. "Eloquent, Remus. Eloquent..." He let his fingers slide down the line of Remus's hip, curling slowly over his ass. "You know how to flatter through touch as well as words. I should return the favour again..."

"Mmmm, you won't see me fighting," the Gryffindor chuckled warmly, a hand caressing over one bare, bony hip to the curve of groin and lengthening cock that lay nestled against a thigh. "Perhaps a little encouragement..."

"But if you encourage me again, Remus, do so at the risk of losing a student or two because I'll have fallen asleep in potions class," Severus warned huskily, as he pressed a kiss against hot-feeling skin so close to his mouth. Remus had a... life to him that Lucius hadn't had in years, and that Tom had never had, a tenderness that mixed with a fire that simply didn't hurt.

"I'll risk it," Remus laughed, rolling over Severus to plant himself between the Slytherin's thighs. "I'd risk a great deal more, in fact, I think. You're just as delicious as I thought you would be," he whispered.

"Will you be here a year from now, Remus?" A question from seemingly nowhere, but Severus closed it off neatly by saying, "No, don't answer that. It might just be nice..." To have a lover, someone he could talk to who would handle his snideness well, for a few more months, longer. His legs parted willingly, one bending to hook Remus nearer.

"Hmmm, I'd like that very much," Remus whispered, leaning down to nip firmly at Severus's throat, giving a sound that was pure pleasure. "Would you like for me to do it again?" He could feel the werewolf's hardness rubbing against him, wanting to push into him.

Severus's hips canted up a little, pressing Remus closer. "Do you really think that I'd look so pleased right now if I didn't?"

Again there came that warm laughter, Remus nuzzling at him before sliding in slowly, Severus still slick from their previous bout. "Mmmmmm, I never know with you. You have many...." He paused, bottoming out. "Mmmm, many interesting sides."

Words died in a soft, strangled groan, lips parting as he made that noise. Remus wasn't too large, no -- he was the perfect size to give a full feeling without pain, to hit all the right points without hitting them too hard. He could be content just laying there, being filled so nicely, but the heat of the other professor's cock was too much to be ignored. Severus brought his other leg up, locked around Remus's narrow hips. "More."

"Ohhh, want me to move, do you?" That was something nice about Remus, too, the playfulness he had in bed, the way that his hands touched. It had never been like that with anyone else, never the lazy flex of hip that made him want to bring his own up with a heavy sigh.

"Yes, I want you to move, you sodding..." He couldn't finish the venom, only canted his hips up, turning his head to try to bite playfully at Remus's wrist.

"Oh. Severus..." His name, but it wasn't Remus saying it, for he'd gone very still above him, golden eyes turning huge in his face.

Only one person had that lilting voice, and it sounded so hurt... Eyes barely slitted open, splayed naked and pierced with his lover's cock, he turned and saw just what he'd hoped was a hallucination.

The boy's face was twisted in what was obvious pain, small, tender lips bitten sharply to keep him from saying anything else. The sheer heartbreak written in the sharp angle of his bowed shoulders and the whiteness of his skin hurt Severus from ten feet away.

"Sev..." Remus whispered, shocked.

He was supposed to protect Draco, not... "Fucking Merlin, Remus, move," the potions professor hissed, pushing Remus off of him in a swift motion. He could move like a striking snake when it was required, as he'd had to do too many times in the previous years; this time it was to spin out of the bed, and snatch up his dressing gown, folding himself away in cloth quickly. His hair was still tangled, though, hanging in his face despite one shaking hand lifting to shove it back from his eyes. "Draco, you... you required something?"

"Nothing!" Draco lied in a choked voice, grey eyes welling up with tears that he would deny if Severus asked about them. "I don't need anything!" he said, and left behind the sound of running feet.

Severus almost gave chase -- almost, but something told him that Draco would only work himself into a hysterical flurry, as he had when he'd seen Lucius kissing him. Later, when he was calmer, Severus would seek him out to speak with about the matter. But for a moment, he slumped in the doorway, watching the boy's retreating form. "Bloody fucking hell."

"Does he do that often?" Remus asked, something surprised and... Yes, he had to acknowledge it, put out as well.

"Do what?" Severus had to ask, as he turned back towards the bed, tossing off his dressing gown.

"Just come in without knocking?" Remus queried, settling back into the pillows. His erection was rapidly dying, even he had to admit.

Severus slipped near against him once in the bed again, rubbing himself against Remus languidly. He was sore from the quick end of their game, but it had to be done. "Often."

"Then we should probably begin locking the door," Remus told him softly. "Unless you don't wish to continue because we've upset one of your students. I know you're particularly partial to Malfoy's son..."

"Door's locked," Severus told him with a wave of his hand. "It unlocks for him; I'll see to it tomorrow, he won't be back tonight..." For all that Remus could tell, because Severus wasn't looking at him but rather his shoulder, the man was bluffing and unsure of what to do next. Severus didn't have a clue, and what Draco had seen had surely done more than 'upset' him. "I was the first one to hold him when he was a tiny, bloody mess of babe. Partial doesn't describe it..."

"Of course not," Remus agreed, tugging him close. "It's difficult, that. Loving a child so much when it isn't your own." The way he loved Harry, he supposed, as the only connection left to what had once been.

"What would you have done if we'd been in your rooms, and Potter had barged in, hmn?" Aside from probably having to stop him from casting an unforgivable curse, Severus mused darkly, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Lupin's shoulder.

That gained him more of that soft laughter he liked so much. "Hmmm, Harry wouldn't have run off. He'd probably assume that I was trying to fight you off and he'd jump in the bed to help me."

"Oh, I truly doubt that he'd jump into a bed as long as I've been in it at any point in the last decade..." Severus smoothed a palm rather firmly over Remus's chest, as he settled in clearly to sleep. "My apologies for the interruption..."

"Of course. Not your fault," Remus agreed, nuzzling a kiss into sweat damp hair. "A bit odd, admittedly..."

"If you understood the situation..." Severus let that dangle languidly, and fell silent as if he wanted to sleep.

"Hmm. Your ex-lover's son... Maybe he even has a crush on you," Remus teased. There were no small number of students with crushes on him this year, so he didn't see why not.

"It isn't a maybe -- he does." Severus was so sure of that, as he slid an arm lazily over Remus's waist, waving it a moment to kill the lights entirely.

"Mmmmmm." That was pleasant, being wrapped up in warmth and darkness with Severus, and the urge to nibble at his neck wasn't resisted. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I haven't the first idea." That was softly groaned, as Severus shifted just enough to present his neck better.

"You'll come up with something tomorrow, I don't doubt," the werewolf said huskily, nipping at him. "Hm. Interested again, are we...?"

"My first bell students are getting a corpse for a teacher. Good class for notes..." Yes, interested again despite his better sanity. Perhaps he should've refrained, because Draco had seen, but... "Only I'm sore now."

"Don't worry," Remus whispered, pushing him to his back before slithering down beneath the covers with all of the true talent of a Slytherin on his best night. "There's more than one way to dissect a corpse."

And the temporarily silent bedroom rose again with raucous cries as Remus put his sweet-tongued mouth to use.

---

It was early afternoon, and there hadn't been so much as a peep out of Draco all day. He hadn't been in Potions class, at meals, or in any of his other classes thus far during the day. No one had seemed to particularly miss him, and Severus had been busy with classes until half an hour prior to his current task -- finding Draco Malfoy. It was disturbing to ask about his whereabouts, and find that no one knew. Still, there were... places. When Draco proved not to be in his dorm, Severus immediately descended to the secret place he'd shown Draco, that place that had been his and Lucius's.

He honestly wished that he hadn't gone there, once he'd arrived.

It was obvious that at least some of the Slytherins he'd asked about Draco had been lying -- the male half. Two of them were still there, after all, one of them with an arm tight around the small blond boy even as Draco sucked half-heartedly at the hardness in his mouth, shuddering as if he wasn't enjoying himself at all.

"WHAT is going on here?" Severus boomed, making his presence known sharply, as he completely blocked their only exit from the space.

The two older boys both nearly jumped out of their skin, scrambling up from the floor. The one Draco had been blowing fumbled his pants shut, jerked his robed down. "Er, Professor, Malfoy was just... That is..."

"That is, I offered," Draco said negligently, voice raw.

"You offer nothing," Severus growled, glaring at the two older students. "Twenty points each for having skipped classes and crossed into a restricted area. Stick to your own age-mates, and this offence won't come up before the headmaster. I'm sure your parents..." He let that dangle with a disgusted sneer.

Both of the other boys were obviously quaking before him when Draco began to laugh, a hysterical edge to it. "Oh, yes, those," he sneered, and the obvious shakiness of the situation was more than apparent.

"Both of you run up to your afternoon classes -- and you'll serve detention at a time of my choosing this Friday. You, Mister Malfoy, will remain here." And with that, he moved out of the entrance, towards Draco.

"Yes, sir," the other boys blurted together, and promptly made themselves entirely scarce, leaving Severus alone with the boy.

Draco didn't seem inclined to say anything. Instead, he closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the stone wall, and licked his swollen mouth.

"Did you enjoy doing that, Mr. Malfoy? Did you enjoy doing what I just saw you doing?" He wanted to shake the child, ask him what was going through his mind, demand for him to never do it again. Only none of that happened, and he only moved closer.

"I don't know, Professor Snape." The words were drawled out, an insolent sort of sound. "Did you enjoy what I saw you doing last night?"

"Is that what inspired you to... whore yourself to boys who aren't worth the ground you spit on?" Severus demanded, finally close enough to grab Draco by his robes, and shake him ever so slightly.

The sheer limpness of the boy's body somehow made it seem worse than it was. "Shouldn't it have?" He didn't want to cry, it was obvious, but neither could Draco look at Severus for fear that he would. "Shouldn't it?"

"Why? Tell me why, Draco Malfoy, or so help me, I'll have you sent to Durmstrang!"

"Because I lo..." His voice cracked. "Because I love you. Because I've always loved you. Bec-cause I thought, when it c-came, you would t-take care of me. But you d-didn't. You didn't..." He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to cry.

Severus wasn't sure how he managed to back them both up to the ledge that boy had been perched on earlier, that cool jut of stone, but he pulled Draco close and up into his arms. "I wasn't aware..."

"How could you not be?!" The question was half-screamed, and thin limbs pushed at him for a moment before weakly wrapping around him. "How could you not be? You kissed me. You gave me the book. You're my everything. You've always been..."

Always.

Suddenly, glances and words between them over the years, even from Draco's sweeter younger years, seemed... differently flavored, differently meant. "It was a mistake," he whispered in a tense noise. "Remus was... Professor Lupin..."

"No," Draco told him sternly. "No. I... I don't want you to to to deny yourself. I..." He hiccoughed. "I c-can take care of it..."

"On your knees on a dirty floor?" The outrage that surged through him at the very thought made more sense, even as he kept Draco pulled tight to him. "No."

"I only ever wanted you..." It was impossible to hold back the thick sob that broke loose, arms creeping up around Severus's neck. It felt as if he belonged there, as if nothing could be wrong held there.

Fated, inevitable. It would have to be brought up with Albus now, never mind that the kiss was easily swept under a rug. No, but he couldn't. He'd simply have to swallow it, and gather that if the Headmaster took issue with it, then he'd be spoken with and summarily fired. Only a fool, after all, would request to be fired.

"I know," he murmured deeply, closing his eyes as he pulled Draco up further, closer against his chest so that lean body was close against lean body despite robes. He did love the bratty, beautiful child that he held in his arms, and Draco loved him even if it was likely misguided, so... why not, if he was needed?

"Please," Draco whispered, "please. I'm sorry, I didn't think about it, I just, I just wanted, I wanted so much, and I thought..."

"Don't ever do that again, Draco," Severus cut him off. "Understand? Not like that. It kills something inside of you to do that to yourself."

The boy nodded, locks of blond hair spilling over his forehead as he leaned up to press his cheek against Severus's. He didn't dare kiss him, not with the taste of semen still on his tongue and lips. "Will you take care of me?" he whispered, fingers tangling in black locks. "I'm burning up...."

"Now?" Of course it was 'now', it had been the night before, too, Severus realized rather suddenly. "Dry your face, and we'll go to my quarters."

"It's always burning now," Draco told him, rubbing his face on his stained robe. "Always. It has been for a while. I thought I could... I thought I could resist it. Just for a while longer. Just until..." Until Severus would be more comfortable with it.

But Severus felt, and probably correctly, that at least for him it would be easier to do first, and adjust second. Carefully, he stood Draco on his feet and rose to his own, hands still at the boy's lean waist. "What did they do to you?"

"Nothing. Touched me. They..." His face was hot. "They would touch me. For sucking..."

"You should've come to me before that," he scolded firmly, a hand on Draco's shoulder as he started to lead him back up to the more populated part of the dungeon.

It was fairly useless to say that he had, but that Severus had been in the bed with Remus Lupin. Instead, Draco kept quiet, holding his stained robes carefully around him, eyes downcast, caressing the stones as they moved out of the Slytherin dormitory area and into the halls. It was still the middle of a class period, in the first of Severus's free spaces, so the halls to the potions rooms, and thusly Severus's bedroom, were comfortably vacant in their quiet walk.

"Perfessor..." That was Filch, Mrs. Norris roaming ahead of him as he came down the hallway, growling at the sight of Malfoy. "There's a spill down the way. Wouldn't want to step in none of it, 'f I were you."

"A spill of what?" Severus asked with a fleeting look of nothing at all, purely conjured blandness as he stood there with his hand firm on Draco's shoulder.

"Eh, some Gryffindor sloshed 'is potions materials all over and made a mess. Ought to be able to tell next time you see 'em. Shame they don't let us hang 'em by their thumbs in the dungeons anymore..." the caretaker grumbled, and Draco seriously considered hiding behind Severus.

"They were in my classroom?" Severus started angrily. "It's off limits right now, and nothing is being taught!"

The caretaker shrugged. "I can leave it, if you want. So's you can see where it is, maybe figure out better who it was."

Draco's fingers were tugging at his sleeve, obvious need in his touch, the tips of them searing against Severus's arm.

"Clean it up," Severus muttered. "I have urgent business to care for at the moment." Later, later, he'd figure out who'd done it, and see if it was possible at all to hang them from their thumbs.

They moved along more quickly, then, Severus's hand on the small of Draco's back, and the burning was much more obvious to him. He could feel the heat of Draco's skin through that fine layer of cloth, could feel the shaky tremors. Lucius had used to get them if they went too long without satisfaction, though they hadn't quite been such hard little shudders. On the other hand, Lucius had rarely tried to resist the need for very long.

Lucius hadn't had to resist the need, because Severus had been there for him since the start of Severus's own third year, and their juvenile, sweet games. "This will not need to be taken care of at such odd hours again, Draco," Severus murmured, once they were past the caretaker. "You'll come to my rooms, Draco, for tutoring and whatever else is needed."

"I'm sorry," Draco told him, looking up from beneath white blond lashes, mouth trembling. "I am. Truly." Sorry he had resisted, sorry Severus was going to have to take care of him, sorry that Severus might be uncomfortable... just sorry.

"Words one never expects to hear from a Malfoy." Severus twisted a little, mouth curling up into a faint smile, just for Draco. There was no point in having the boy feel guilt for something that was beyond his control. "You trust me, don't you, Draco? Then trust that I am fine with this."

"I trust you," Draco agreed, and reached for Severus's hand, worming his fingers in tightly. "I do...." He did, and he wanted him, wanted to feel him doing all of those things he'd read about, and the more he thought about it, the worse it became. The blaze inside of him heated up another notch, and he shuddered.

"Every evening, Draco, come to my rooms. If anyone asks what you're doing, tell them that I favor you and you're getting special tutoring. Or you can just sneer, and tell them it isn't their business. Understand?" Of course Draco would, and that was just what Severus needed to be sure of, as he clutched Draco's hand and jerked him gently into the potions class proper.

"Yes, Professor," Draco said most politely, following him quickly. Even another five minutes seemed like too much, the entirety of him throbbing with need. He was beginning to squirm.

They were in his private rooms, then, Draco gently pushed inside, and Severus spelling the doors firmly closed. Then came the awkward moment of standing there, back to his locked door, looking at the boy who relied on him for so much.

"What do I do?" Draco whispered to him finally, knowing that he ought to at least brush his teeth, wipe off his face, surely.

Merlin, it wasn't going to work at all. No, the situation was too contrived to work at all, but Draco needed...

A drink. Severus very suddenly needed a drink, and crossed to his desk to pull a bottle out. "You know where the bathroom is, Draco. Please clean yourself up as much as you wish to." If it seemed it was going to take too long, he'd just magically tack a note onto the potions classroom door, and bolster the locks.

It took all of about ten minutes, Draco's ablutions including a desultory sort of whore bath as well as washing his face and brushing his teeth. By the time he came back out, barely more than half-clothed, his face was glowing, and his eyes landed automatically on Severus. "I'm done," he said softly.

Ten minutes had been enough time for Severus to haze his own world with a bottle of heavily spelled alcohol. He didn't need liquor to want to do what he was about to do, but he needed it to calm his nerves enough to let his body take care of the rest. He'd stripped off his robes, too, and boots, leaving himself in trousers and a shirt, and now half-inspecting Draco. When, when had the baby that he'd held in his arms finally grown up into such a nice body? When had the boy he'd taught Quidditch developed such fine musculature? The years had blurred into each other, and now he could see the fruit of his work, and his care, standing just inside of his bedroom, waiting.

"Sit down in my chair there, Draco," Severus gestured widely.

The boy glanced at him, almond-shaped eyes wide, but he obeyed, moving slowly to seat himself in the indicated seat. He looked needy, and just a little nervous, his mouth trembling as he watched Severus wantonly. "I want this," Draco assured him. "I've never wanted anyone but you." Everything that had gone in the past day had simply been an attempt to fill a desperate need without actually managing to touch the void.

"You've inherited your father's poor taste in men, but hopefully not his equally poor taste of masters." Severus kicked back the last of something that was surely as throat burning as Hagrid's home brew, then stood there for a moment more, looking at the lean figure perched in his chair. Draco was thirteen, older than he himself had been when he'd fallen to Lucius's wiles. And at least, Severus told himself, Draco wouldn't be led astray by him, or played with. Finally, he strode smoothly towards the chair, looking down at Draco. Yes, this would take time, to do it right. "I want you to spell a notice onto my classroom's door, Draco."

That meant finding his wand, which was in the bathroom with his robes. He rose, shifted upward and went to fetch it, returning bare seconds later. He waved it, a pale path of light faintly glowing from the tip for a moment before shooting towards the door. "Done," he said, and seated himself again to look at Severus. "And I don't have poor taste in men, though Father might. He obviously had the lack of sense required to lose you."

"You can certainly put a flattering spin on reality," Severus drawled, as he shifted a hand to cup Draco's cheek. Smooth skin like Lucius's, but with a delicacy that had to come from Narcissa, a curve of those eyes and the boy's lips that made him want to just quiver. "Do you know what you like yet, Draco?"

"I like you," Draco decided, looking up at him with a serious expression. "And anything you want to do... I want to do everything."

"Not everything," the professor corrected in a hiss of a whisper. "Only some things. 'Everything' encompasses a gambit of activities, many of which would make even your father nauseous." His fingers stroked gently, as he knelt to bring himself down to Draco's level, leaning forwards to take the boy's mouth in his.

The blond opened to him, the fine tremble of his body felt against Severus's finger as Draco moaned into his mouth. He had gotten better at kissing somewhere along the way, something that Severus really didn't consider much even as that small tongue darted out, tasting him, teasing at him. No, he wasn't going to think about it when Draco was shifting, moving to press against him, his voice a soft whine of pleasure.

He could taste the liquor on Severus's mouth, spiking and still intoxicating even in the tiny amounts that clung to his lips and tongue. Perhaps the kiss wasn't the unsure kiss of before, but it was a warm thing that made Severus want to possess, that stirred him up further until he was pressed close and starting to pull Draco from the chair.

Draco went willingly, slim arms wrapping tightly about Severus's neck as he refused to let go of that kiss. He leaned forward, squeezing himself against the dark-haired man. On his knees, Severus was at just the right height for kissing, and it made the boy shiver with wonder and want and need. "Please..."

"You need more than childish petting, Draco. You need someone with intent in their touch," Severus told him in a huff of breath, rasing up a bit but he pulled Draco with him. "Get up. You choose if we stay here, or go to my bed."

"Go to your bed." There was no choice to be made. It was all one and the same, the need to be close, be touched, have more of Severus, more of everything. Draco shivered, sudden realization clutching at him. He needed more so very desperately.

So Draco was allowed to slide to his feet, but only for a moment before the potions teacher goaded him quickly to the bed, with its soft velvety sheets. Not near as nice as those in Malfoy Manor, but nice, with a comfortable feel to them. "Let your clothes come off, Draco," Severus drawled, standing at the edge of the bed.

There was something strangely forbidden about those words, something that seemed not quite right. They made him shiver, a delicious sort of feeling, even as he shed his clothing, tossing the remains of it on the floor and leaving him laying upon Severus's bed, pale and slim, unable to keep himself from smiling. "Come to me?" he whispered uncertainly.

"Have patience." And then Draco felt it, almost a tightening of the room itself as Severus languidly paced the perimeter of his bedroom as he started to slip off his shirt. Pity any person who tried to pass that last ward.

There was no question of the boy's need; it as good as throbbed through him, little releases of breath accompanied by a vibrant trembling obvious signs of it. The slower Severus went, the more it intensified until it seemed as if Draco wouldn't be able to hold it in at all, and his hand snuck slowly down his side, reaching for the slender erection that lay against his belly.

"Did I tell you that you could do that, Draco? No. Because if you're going to do that, then why am I here, hmn?" Severus tossed his shirt onto the chair that they'd been sitting in, then unbuckled his belt and started on his pants.

"Because I need you." Needed him, and it seemed as if he wasn't moving fast enough, though he obeyed without protest, leaving his hand flat against a thigh. "Please. Please hurry. Please!"

"Once upon a time, Draco, I was very into a good quick rut. However..." He stalked closer to the bed, and finally the mattress sank with his lean weight, kneeling near Draco but not yet touching him; nor had he taken his pants off yet. It was like succumbing to something completely forbidden when he wrapped his hand around Draco's cock.

The boy lifted up to him, his entire back arching with the pleasure of that touch, little jerks of his hips pushing him more deeply into Severus's palm. He gave a moan, a sound that seemed to come up from the depths of his toes, and there was no denying that he found pleasure in Severus's touch.

Experience told Severus that he would be served best by lessening the edge of the need first, then working to dull it away entirely. "That sensation is nothing, Draco, compared to..." Carefully, he bent close enough to breath against the swollen head of Draco's needy cock. Severus's own was throbbing against the confines of his half-opened pants, and the loud noise that Draco gave in response to that whisper of air brushing against him certainly wasn't any deterrent.

The moment his lips wrapped around the boy's hard flesh, Severus felt him jerk, heard a frantic panting that escaped from his lips in desperation. "Oh! Oh, oh, oh, ohhhh!!!" It would be short then, this first bout between them. He sucked hard on Draco's flesh, savoring the first few bursts of pre-come and ready for the rest as he worked himself easily down to the root with his mouth still a tight seal around that shaft.

It was barely a half minute after he began that Draco came, yelling to the ceiling above, entire body tensing with the sheer pleasure of it. "OHH!" Thank Merlin for the silence spells that he already kept on his rooms. The jets that pumped into his mouth were thinner than they would be later, with that tint to the taste that betrayed Draco's Veela blood; a slight magical tingle on his lips as he swallowed, just as there had been with Lucius.

By the time he lifted his head, the blond Slytherin was limp upon the mattress, eyes half-closed, sighs of bliss parting those lips. "Oh," he whispered. "That was..."

"What it should be," Severus told him, looking at Draco with eyes not full of disgust or any other tainted emotion, but a want almost equal to Draco's, a solid appreciation for what he'd just done. Languidly, slipping his own pants off at last, Severus moved up Draco's body, planting kisses all the way.

"Ohh... Are you going to fuck me?" Draco asked, and the sheer desire in his voice made it shake as he wrapped his arms tightly about Severus's shoulders, moaning as the man's lip caressed over a terribly sensitive spot. "I'd like that..."

"In time," Severus promised him softly. He was wrapped up in the feel of Draco's arms, and the tickle against his lips of fine, pale blond peach fuzz that graced Draco's chest.

"Oh, that's nice," the boy sighed, his legs coming up to wrap around Severus's, his fingers tangling in black strands of hair. "I feel so good. Like... Mmmmm, still burning, but warm. Warm, and not as though I'm going to fall apart quickly..."

"That's how it should be," Severus sighed, relaxing at hearing that it was easing off for Draco. He kissed the base of Draco's neck, then hovered for a kiss. "Have you ever tasted yourself?"

"Yes," the boy admitted in a whispered breath, and he leaned up and pressed his lips to Severus's to taste himself on them. It was slightly different, a taste of himself mixed with the flavor of Severus's mouth as the other man parted his lips, and then licked teasingly at the edges of Draco's mouth.

Just kissing Severus felt wonderful, not at all like the things he'd been doing in the past day. Instead of feeling obligatory, it made him shudder with want, made him need the man desperately, and he knew that anyone who would give up Severus Snape had to be mad. "Please..." he whined softly. "Please."

His father, the man who had taught Severus to kiss like that, was mad.

"Please what, Draco? Nipples, or cock?" And a hand found each, tweaking one of the former gently, and palming the latter.

"Ahhh!!" Oh, it felt too good, altogether too good, and he dropped his head back onto the pillows, mouth parted to give out little sounds of pleasure as he writhed beneath Severus's touch. "Oh, please! Oh please!" Please what, he didn't know, only please more seemed to be the craving.

Nipples, Severus guessed as he slipped down just a bit, and closed his mouth over the unattended one. Just touching Draco like that was making his own cock drool onto the bedsheets, against Draco's thigh, as his other hand abandoned the boy's cock to gently urge his thighs to spread.

Draco needed little encouragement to pull his legs away from where they clung to Severus so tightly. Indeed, the moment the older man began to tug at him, he let them fall open, a knee pressing to the bed beneath them as he moaned his pleasure aloud, tensing with anticipation. "Hhhhnnnn...."

The small nipple was caught in his teeth, and rolled gently between sucks. One day, he would simply have to lay Draco out on his bed, and kiss him. Everywhere, every bit of him deserved to be tasted and categorized in Severus's vivid mind. The hand between Draco's legs stroked at the insides of his slender thighs, inching its way to Draco's cleft.

The boy opened to him eagerly, argent eyes gone misty with need as moaned beneath Severus. Everything felt so very good, and the burning was back again, driving everything but the touch of skin on skin from his mind. Each stroke of hand and finger seemed to intensify the sheer magnitude of Severus's touch until he thought he would go mad, and he said as much, panting it out as he bent upwards for more.

Severus finally had to stop lavishing the boy's firm chest with attention, and sat back onto his heels. "Last chance to say 'no', Draco," Severus warned, as he summoned a bottle from the dresser.

"I won't ever," Draco promised him, shifting up on his elbows to kiss the man wildly. "Not ever. I only want you, for always."

When the kiss ended, when Severus could still himself eating at the edges of Draco's mouth, small licks and kisses, he'd almost forgotten what he'd been doing. Kissing... no, not just kissing, but he had a bottle of lubricant in one hand, and the other hand was on Draco's lean chest, pushing him back carefully. "No, no more kisses yet..."

"You give the best kisses," Draco assured, laying back and closing his eyes so that pale lashes rested on even paler cheeks. "I've never kissed anyone who kisses as good as you do..."

A twisted, possessive part of him wanted to demand who else had kissed Draco; the saner edges told him to repeat the words back to Draco, breath husking in his chest as he slipped two fingers against Draco's tiny... oh, fucking Merlin, it was tiny.

"You're going to put them in me, aren't you?" It was an excited little whisper, one that trembled with need. "I want you to put them in me. I haven't let anyone touch me there. I, I, I wanted it to be you to do it, even though I didn't think you would..."

"Why didn't you think I would?" Severus asked, voice falling deeper and slower than it had before, as he teased one against the entrance, pressing against the center carefully.

"Lupin," the boy whimpered, twitching his hips slightly to try and bring that finger into him. "Because you were... Ohhhh...."

"A mistake," Severus murmured, even if it was half a lie, and he was going to have to deal with Lupin as soon as he could. "Shh. Just feel this, Draco." The twist of hips pushed it in just a little, so that Severus's perfectly clean, neatly trimmed nail tickled the edge of that first muscle.

"Oh!" Draco's eyes were wide, and he forgot for a moment what he had ought to do. Instead, he squirmed, gave a whimper. "Oh. Oh, oh...!"

Another moment's pause, and then Severus slid that finger in to the first knuckle, concentrating. Draco soon felt a blossom of magic within him, for a purpose he'd learn soon enough.

The whole of him seemed to relax, flower open to that touch, and he moaned, biting down hard on the inside of his mouth as a flood of pleasure danced along his nerve endings. "Merlin," Draco moaned out. "Oh, God. Oh, God, that feels... Oh, that feels..." He swallowed hard.

"Undeniably good. When done right, it should." Severus purred, finger slipping in steadily deeper until he was buried in to his hand, holding still. Even with that soothing spell, Draco was going to be so tight that it would probably snap his eager cock off at the base.

"Oh, then you must be doing it very right!" Draco declared, rocking steadily against the fingers curled between his cheeks. It felt too good to him, that single digit, and he wanted more very badly.

Flatterer. Always, always... if he'd had enough thought in his mind, Severus would've laughed, but instead he slipped a second finger in with the first, and then curled them carefully.

The action gained him a cry, a yelp, and the inexorable tightening of the boy's body around his fingers. Draco couldn't help it, really; the pressure against the soft gland inside of him made a pulse of juice, nearly clear, drip from his cock in response. "Oh, God!" he babbled. "Oh, God!"

Severus could appreciate, and control, those sweet, sweet reactions. He could press that gland again, and get another bead of crystalline need dropping onto that pale, flat stomach. Parchment white, lily pure, meeting with the blackest of blackened souls, a burnt cast off...

The professor smiled to himself as he slid a third finger from that hand into Draco's tightness, sure that would be all that the boy could take. He was yelling, crying out beneath Severus's touch, and he seemed so beautifully ready, so wanton. His entire body writhed with need, a hand coming down to touch Severus's wrist, to hold him, to tug him closer and deeper.

"PLEASE!"

That hand had no chance of keeping Severus's deft fingers there, before they withdrew and left the aching need behind for a moment, until Draco's thin, Quidditch muscled legs were pulled up, pulled closer by the professor. Severus simply wasn't going to ask again, wasn't going to chance losing that moment, the feel of pressing himself against Draco's tight entrance.

"Please, I want you in me!" Those were, perhaps, the closest thing Draco could come up with to address his need, his want, unsubtle at best, but so direct, so true. The way he wrapped himself around Severus was no less so.

"Then let me in..." His hips drove forwards, slow at first, until he decided to just push in, chancing on that spell of earlier to buffer it.

The boy gasped beneath him, eyes going wide as he let out a little sound of aching hurt, but still he opened, snapping tight around the head as Severus entered him. "Ahhh!!"

He pressed further in, deep and entirely within Draco until Severus was seated in all the way. Only then could he bring himself to stop pressing into that swallowing heat, to look at the face of the dear one who laid beneath him.

The boy's lips were trembling, his face flushed with color, but there were no tears. No, nothing resembling hurt or disappointment, only a violent need reflected in those grey eyes. "So good," Draco cooed, swallowing hard, rocking beneath him steadily as if those movements would help him to have more, to create friction, to have everything. "Oh, oh, so... So..."

The first withdrawal was slow, an aching rasp within him that was soothed in pain but not sensation by Severus's spell. It was followed by surging reentry until Severus was bending him almost in half on the bed, kissing at his mouth in times with the steady, stirring strokes.

Draco gave little cries beneath him, hands clenched tightly on Severus's shoulders. Every thrust seemed to make him tighten even more, and his legs clung to Severus's with a strong grip as they shifted, moved, fucked. Pale features were lit with the salty dew of sweat, and Draco sobbed with the sensation that was overwhelming him. "OhgodohgodohgodohYES!"

Severus imagined he could see the point they were driving towards, driving there together. No, not driving -- drilling. He was drilling into Draco's body, losing himself there and it was so intense that sensations muddled themselves. Lips felt like hands, felt like cock and skin to skin, all felt like pleasure itself. Draco was incoherent with the feelings of it, and above him his trusted teacher was drilling into his pure body, taking and marking...

The crackle of magic was in the air, and it only intensified every shift, every motion, every bliss that filled them. It was no surprise to him when the boy gave a resounding yell and came, spilling strand after puddle of pearlescent damp seed between them and clamping around him so tightly that Severus was surprised he could keep on moving.

It was just for a few more thrusts, and then Severus couldn't move anymore; tight backed, tight muscled, tight and frozen over his bent in half lover, spilling deep into him while silvery eyes watched him sleepily, glimmering.

The feel of soft kisses drew him back to himself eventually, words whispered in his ear. The burning was better, was just low warmth in the boy's belly, and he ached, but oh, it had been so very good, hadn't it? To be taken, to be fucked, to feel Snape in him and touching him and making him belong. "I love you," easy little words, words he'd heard from Draco for all of his life, but it meant so much more in that moment than he had ever thought it did before.

Severus couldn't recall clearly when he'd last felt so disgustingly besotted. In careful motions, he pulled out of Draco and laid beside him, gathering the boy's body and akimbo limbs close against him. "I know, Draco. I know..." Then, quieter, in a whisper that might've been in both of their imaginations, Severus said, "I've loved you since before you even were."

The blond's lips curled sweetly at that, his head finding the hollow of Severus's shoulder and burying there. "I'll always love you. I'm not stupid, not like Father."

Children said such things. Children swore silly, eternal love... And so did grown men, fools that they were, swearing want and other vague things... Merlin, he couldn't trust anyone to be that close, could he? No, because everything ended, often sooner than it had any right to end, at least by his records. How many years (months, weeks?) until Draco became 'stupid' like his father?

Severus's mouth curled faintly, sneer faded by the haze of pleasure, smile saddened by thinking of what was in the moment, and what was simply known as reality. "Shhh. Nap for a few minutes, Draco, then we'll clean and I'll escort you to your class."

"Do I have to go?" Draco sighed sleepily, nuzzling at him, lips pressing against Severus's skin.

"Hogwarts is still a school, Draco, so yes," Severus purred, closing his own eyes. And fuck it all, he'd have to take something before he left to flush out of his system the alcohol that had so relaxed him.

The boy only smiled, though... He didn't think Severus would actually make him go to class, after all, not when he had decided to suck the older man off once they were finished having a short nap. Oh, yes. That was a most promising thought, indeed. "All right."

It was probably best for both of them that Severus was unaware of Draco's plan. Otherwise neither of them would have napped, either.

---

It was just as well that he always attended Quidditch matches, on the whole. After all, if he hadn't been in the stands, he most sincerely doubted that any of the other students or faculty members would have noticed that the Potter brat had knocked Draco off of his broom when he'd snatched the snitch from between the boy's fingers. They probably wouldn't have noticed when he hit the ground ten feet below, either, what with all of the screaming and cheering going on, or noticed the fact that blood blossomed beneath that finely pale head of hair.

No, no one gave a bloody shit of care, though Severus raced down the stairs of the observation tower in which he sat, and then out onto the pitch. The other Slytherins were closer, but who knew if they'd seen or even, more bitterly than anything, cared?

By the time he arrived, Draco was half-sitting up, throwing up on the pitch below, and Severus could hear Pansy Parkinson yelping from somewhere above him. "Did I get it?" It was a whisper, confusion. "I thought..."

"You're concussed, Draco -- here, let me take you to the infirmary." Telling Draco that Gryffindor had won yet once more wasn't high on his priority list.

"I hit my head?" The sheer disorientation had washed over Draco completely. "They're so loud. I wish they would be quiet. If they'd be quiet, I could think..." One slender hand rose, touching his head, coming back blood-wet.

"Loop your arms around my neck, Mr. Malfoy." Draco's broom would see itself to the team's broom locker, and could be abandoned. Draco apparently was viewed as much the same by staff and students alike.

Quietly, the boy obeyed him, accustomed to doing so after past weeks. He laid his bloody head upon Severus's shoulder tiredly as the man lifted his slight weight, heading back towards the castle with him. "I didn't get it, did I?" he asked sadly, burying his face against Severus's neck, the smear of blood caressing the man's jaw.

"You caught it. And Potter then caught it from your hand," Severus sighed. "Not that they care. The blessed Gryffindor could've beaten you over the head with a bludger, and they wouldn't've cared... Biased bastards." Draco was bleeding, and frighteningly fuzzy-seeming as Severus carried him quickly into the building, starting up layers of stairs to take him to the infirmary wing.

"I don't want to play Quidditch anymore," Draco decided, the words slurring as he sighed, closed his eyes. He seemed to become smaller with them, trembling. "I don't like it anymore. It's supposed to be fun..."

"Quitting the team would give them one more thing to gloat over," Severus murmured as he mounted another set of stairs, empty stairs, heart hammering in his chest. "Save that decision, Draco, for when you're awake."

An incoherent sort of agreement came, accompanied by another deep sigh. It wasn't good for him to sleep with his concussion, Severus knew, but it seemed obvious that Draco was trying to do just that.

"If you nod off, Draco, I'll take house points from Gryffindor until the headmaster sees fit to fire me for it," Severus whispered into Draco's ear. "Don't sleep. Just a moment more..." And then he twisted a little, enough to knock the infirmary door open with his shoulder and Draco's knees. "Madam Pomfrey!"

"My goodness, Severus!" Poppy said with some surprise, eyes wide. "An accident?" It seemed that every Quidditch game brought at least one, from jammed knuckles to broken bones. "Lay him down on the bed just there."

"He's concussed, I'm sure of it. That... that bastard Potter took the snitch from his hand, and the entire school seemed content to just let him lay there on the pitch..." Not that Severus would've, or could've even conceived it. When Draco was awake, he'd tell the boy about some of the things that Potter's father and friends did to him. It would, perhaps, ease the pain of being so mishandled.

"Well, I'm sure they were all excited, but it's a very good thing that you were there," Poppy said with a frown, waving her wand. It stopped the bleeding, at least, put the boy to sleep and cleaned those pale strands of hair, but she didn't seem pleased. "Oh, dear. That'll need stitching."

"Ten feet, head first. If he were a muggle, he'd be a dead muggle." Severus couldn't help but sound grim, as he loomed at the other side of the bed he'd hastily laid Draco on top of.

"Well, we'll just see... Yes, yes, if you'll hold his arms, please," Poppy requested of him, and once Severus's hands were on the boy, she went to work with her wand again, stitching the cut up with care. "There. He'll need to stay for the night, I think..."

"I can take him to my quarters," Severus drawled easily, the idea coming perhaps too quickly to his lips. Though nothing would pass that night, he wanted to be able to watch over Draco without being run out every hour.

He could feel the weight of Poppy's gaze on him for a minute; she, better than anyone else at Hogwarts, understood Draco's bloodline, understood what he was, and what Severus likely was to him. "You'll promise to keep an eye on him," she said simply, "and to give him the appropriate potions at the appropriate times. I'll send them down with you so that you don't have to brew any more of them, at least not tonight. I'll need my stores replenished."

"Of course," Severus murmured politely, inclining his head slightly from where he loomed. If, by then, Albus hadn't put one and two together to get three, then Poppy wouldn't betray him. "I'll take those down first, then come back for Mr. Malfoy."

"Of course," the nurse said politely, and bustled off to gather the things that he would need, coming back very shortly with a potion-laden tray. "Be most careful with them," she chided, settling into a chair beside the boy.

"I feel offended that you've told me that," Severus drawled, a smirk in his voice but nowhere near his lips as he moved towards the door with the tray. It took him time to take it downstairs, read over the doses and recall everything. Then he came upstairs, with every intent of carrying Draco back.

By the time he arrived, Poppy had his head wrapped 'round with gauze, carefully spelling the material so that it would stay closed. "Ah, there you are," she said, nodding to him. She had even managed to remove a fair part of his Quidditch gear, leaving him in the grass-stained pants and green shirt that lay beneath most of it. "He's ready." Asleep, yes, but ready.

"If Dumbledore happens to protest why I'm not at the feast where the trophy is handed out, tell him that his golden boy almost killed another student. Again. And that I'd like to speak with him as soon as he's finished fawning over Potter." He knew Poppy would arrive late to the feast, because Draco was there and in need of care. When he left, there were things she'd have to put away... and the feast had already begun, surely. Very carefully, Severus eased Draco out of the bed and into his arms. So light, Draco was always so light in his arms.

The boy turned into him, a natural movement that put him even more firmly in Severus's care. Indeed, that seemed to always be the way with him, turning to Severus for his needs. It was sweet, and very much a part of Draco, flattery and all.

"I'll tell him to come and see you," Poppy agreed gently, tucking a blanket carefully over Draco and up beneath Severus's arms. "Don't be too loud when you have your discussion."

"As if I don't know well enough how to cast a silencing spell? Really, Madam Pomfrey..." Once the blanket was in place, Severus turned away from her, pacing smoothly towards the door. "Thank you," he murmured over his shoulder, an absent afterthought.

"Of course, Severus," she said simply, and then let him go.

It was nearly an hour later before Dumbledore made an appearance in Severus's rooms. Draco had been changed into pajamas and settled into bed, the boy's thin frame easily manipulated. Severus had given him a perfunctory washing to rid him of some of the sweat and grass stains, so he didn't look quite so bad as he had before that. He was bruised, no surprise for tumbling head over ass to the ground and knocking himself out completely, and seemed even more pale for the gauze wrapped around his head.

"My," the Headmaster said quietly from the door. "Mr. Malfoy really doesn't look well at all, Severus. Shouldn't he be in the infirmary?"

"Oh, I don't know. I suppose I could just leave him out on the Quidditch pitch where I found him." Severus didn't turn from where he sat in his favored chair, watching the boy from a distance that was close but also far enough to keep him from doing anything irrational.

"Yes, I noticed that you took care of him," Albus agreed, moving into the room to sit beside Severus. "None of the others seemed to realize he'd been harmed."

"Well that much blood on the grass is never a clear indicator of injury, no..." Severus's jaw was tensing, muscles twisting beneath the skin, but his eyes were as calm as his folded hands, and he still didn't turn to look at the headmaster. "What is wrong with the Gryffindor house that you can't even impart a simple respect for life on them? Even I, perhaps the most soulless student in thirty years, am unwilling to leave a student like that, whether they're from my house or not. And if you tell me that they simply didn't see, then I have to tell you that your... students, and staff, and the referee should be taken up to the infirmary right now, because there must be a spate of magically induced blindness going around. Have you caught it, too, Headmaster?"

The old man gave a heavy sigh and looked at Severus over the edge of his glasses. "No, Severus, I have not. I saw the boy. I also saw that you were caring for him, as did most of the staff still in the stands, and I told them to allow you to do so. I trust you to take care of such necessities. As for the other...." Another weighty breath followed. "I understand, to a certain extent, the students' excitement at having won the Cup over such a close race. Still, you are right. They should have noticed."

"And yet they will face no reprimand, and no teaching from you to the contrary of their... heroic actions on the Quidditch field." His frown was intense, but still calm, even as his words fell softer and softer, still looking at Draco. "And when they grow up, they'll suspect Draco here of things that never crossed his mind, and they'll drive him right into those things with their accusations and their hatred... and when they kill him, at their leisure and under the veil of Aurors, they'll feel nothing but the same righteous justice that they felt today on the Quidditch field. Right has won again in their little black and white world, and evil was defeated."

"I can only save so many children, Severus. Your children are yours to save," Albus told him quietly. "I can't claim to know the minds of Slytherin children. I cannot punish children for being children, even if they are thoughtless."

"Three seems to be your favourite number for students that you save. Hmn, your pet projects my years were who? Ah, Potter, Lupin and Black." He sneered as he finally turned to look at him. "And look how each of them turned out. Dead, barely existing, and a convicted, escaped threat -- no matter what bull you shovel at me on that matter -- to society. If what you do, Albus, in your picking, choosing, and favouring of students is saving, I want you to leave my Slytherins alone. You've done them enough harm."

"Severus, sometimes you go too far," Albus told him faintly, looking directly back at him. Those blue eyes were no longer twinkling, not pleasant in the least. "I trust you to take care of the needs of your students, your students that I do not understand, that I have never understood. I harmed you attempting to understand. I do not want to harm others, and this is why I place my trust in you to do these things. Yes, the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were thoughtless. Yes, Harry should have been concerned with more than the fact that the snitch was in his hand. That child has not had the gifted life of the one laying in your bed." There was a certain inflection that guaranteed to Severus that Albus knew about Draco, knew what was going on between them. "What few moments of happiness he is given, I would like for him to keep. He, as much as your Malfoy, is in grave danger and always has been. Yes, it was wrong, yes, someone should have done something, and someone did. You did. I trusted you to be there. I trust you to do these things, and you were there with him more quickly than anyone else could have been, and had taken him to the infirmary before the others even realized that there was blood upon the grass. Most of them still don't," he admitted. "But Severus, I can only do so much. Only so much. And that is one of the many reasons I need you."

"And when I'm not here, headmaster? If I hadn't been at that game, if I had been working on something, then what?" Severus's mouth twisted darkly, unwavering in the ferocity of his disgust at what had happened. "Yes, I'll stretch myself past breaking to protect my students from the other houses, Albus. But you need to teach your students that children being children doesn't mean that what they do is fine. When Goyle accidentally almost took out Patil's eye with that stone he was trying to turn into a snitch, I did not let it rest with 'Oh, children will be children'. He is still serving detention for that stunt, and knows very well that something that risky, in game or not, is unacceptable."

"I will speak with them," Dumbledore promised tiredly. "But you must know that had you not been there, I would have taken care of the matter myself, Severus. For all that I don't want to damage your students, neither do I want to kill them."

"That you would take care of the matter doesn't change that Potter didn't notice. You won't be around forever to clean up his messes, will you?" Severus asked pointedly, finally turning his body so that he could face Dumbledore rather than twist to look at him. Whether the headmaster was tired or not meant nothing to him; there had been enough nights that he'd been tired of living, but had gone on at Dumbledore's behest and laid himself at Voldemort's feet, seeking any information at all in the man's company.

"I will at least be around, as you say, until he is an adult capable of cleaning up his own messes."

"And hopefully by then you'll have taught him to do so," Severus murmured, bringing his point back to the very beginning -- that those students needed to learn. "It's not as hard as you think; I've managed to teach Draco to care for others behind their backs, even if he sneers in their faces in front of them."

"Harry isn't an unloving sort of boy. Things are very simply black and white to him, as they are to many children at such a young age," Albus sighed. "Your children, perhaps, are more aware of the grey areas than others."

"As they should be; they're born and bred in a grey space, and then choose what direction is theirs." Severus glanced to Draco, then rose smoothly, and crossed to a potion laden tray. There he tipped a swirling blue mixture into a dose cup for Draco. "Sit up a little, Draco. I know you're awake."

"I don't want to be awake," the boy mumbled, a hand raising to touch his head. "It hurts."

"No doubt," Severus murmured softly, mindful of the headmaster's presence in the room as he paced towards the side of the bed with the cup in hand. "Madam Pomfrey said that sleep will be your greatest healer -- so drink this, and go back to sleep."

"Mmm." The agreement was a sound muffled by the cup, Draco obediently swallowing the whole of it before laying back in Severus's bed and closing his eyes, giving a little release of breath as he slid back into sleep.

"Poor boy," Dumbledore murmured. "I'm sure he's very glad to have you, Severus."

"I do what's best for him," Severus said idly, pacing back to the tray to set down the dose cup. "Just as I have since he was born. I crossed over to work for you because of him, didn't I?"

"Indeed," Albus said calmly. "You did. No one is more grateful for that than him and me, Severus. One day, he'll know precisely what you've done for him, even beyond today and all the days after."

Severus paced to his desk, and pulled out a familiar bottle of liquor. "I believe he knows. I'm rather sure that between words with myself and with his father, he knows..."

"A bright child," Albus agreed solemnly. "Severus, I'm very sorry that you believe I should be able to do so much more."

"I would, just once, like to believe that you'd punish your students for such an offense, because my students are punished for merely existing... sir. They particularly haven't respected you since that stunt you pulled with the points in Draco's first year." He poured himself a glass of the stuff, then turned to look at the headmaster. "Would you like some? You look as if you need it."

"Yes, thank you. Shame it couldn't taste more like lemon drops," the headmaster said seriously before smiling at Severus. "Yes, I know. Most of them think me an old fool, and perhaps I am, Severus."

"That was the general opinion of you when you were a teacher, too," Severus drawled, pouring a second glass and spinning around to hand it to Dumbledore. "I believe you did your image in this school more of a favor when you were... less clearly favoring Gryffindor."

"Imagine that you had sentenced your young Malfoy there to live with, for example, Mr. McNair..." McNair was known not only for his cruelty to animals, but also for his cruelty to children, enjoying locking them up in his dungeons and torturing them by beating and refusing to feed them. "Would not you wish to favor him greatly in all things to make up for that, Severus? As it is, you favor him for other reasons..."

"One, you sentenced Potter to that fate yourself, Albus. Two, his father received the same treatment that he receives now, and if I recall correctly, James Potter's parents were nigh on muggle saints. Three," and he paused for a moment to swallow most of his shot of liqour. "Three, I favour Draco as one would family and to counteract his father's teachings. Teaching that would lead to the distinct torture of being the Lord Voldemort's concubine. I don't think that you'd wish any of those sensations on anyone else, Albus. He's a bright, brilliant boy that will be a serviceable member of society when he graduates the school, and not a whore who is lucky enough to savor the sensation of having his ribcage cracked open and mended four, five, six times in a night." Thank Merlin, Severus mused, for liquor on some days. It loosened his tongue, but was certainly pinpointing his mind.

"Then I suspect you and I will both have to continue with our current methods and current favorites, Severus," Albus said to him gently. "There seems to be nothing else for it."

"At least, Albus, teach Potter to respect other's lives. He's a powerful young boy... and I can foresee him becoming another Voldemort." Severus drained that glass, tossed it aside, then slumped back down into his chair.

"Yes," Albus said. "Yes, I know. I remember Tom Riddle well, you know." He drank from his own glass much more slowly than Severus had. "He was, in his own way, very like Harry. An orphan. A good boy, even though he was Slytherin, even though he was suspected of being not so very good." Albus sighed. "I have high hopes for Harry Potter."

"Hopes of what, though? That he'll live by the whims of the ministry..." What a fate that was, too. Severus called the bottle over to him with a spell on his fingertips, and called himself a clean, slightly larger glass. "A young child to have the fate of the wizarding world tossed onto his back."

"Which is precisely the reason I am trying to make his time here as wonderful as possible, Severus," the Headmaster pointed out most calmly.

"But does it have to be at the expense of other students?" Severus pressed, making a circular gesture with his currently empty glass.

"I'll do my best to even things out, Severus. I promise you," Albus replied finally.

"I suppose that's all I can expect," Severus muttered, pouring himself another glass. "Thank you for your time, Headmaster."

"Don't drink yourself silly, Severus," Albus suggested as he stood. "And have a nice night."

Watching Draco sleep off a concussion and split in his forehead, an injury that would no doubt require the entirety of the weekend to heal. Enjoy yourself indeed. Severus simply snorted, nodded his head.

The older man laid a hand upon Severus's shoulder momentarily and then left him alone in the room, accompanied only by Draco's soft, sleeping breaths and his own thoughts.