|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2007-08-08 21:55:00
|Entry tags:||coauthor: cruisedirector, hp fic admittance, hp fic draco/harry/severus|
HP fic: Admittance, ch. 7: Cleaning Up [Draco/Snape/Harry, adult]
Chapter 7, "Cleaning Up"
Authors: celandineb and cruisedirector
Warnings: bondage, Legilimency during sex
Summary: It would be easier to know how much to trust Snape's advice if Harry knew exactly what Snape knew about the Malfoys.
When the murmurs penetrated his sleep-fogged brain enough to break through a dream about house-elves writing poetry for a new column in the Daily Prophet, Harry reached with his eyes closed for the sheet, wanting to pull it over his night-cooled bare skin. It wasn't there. He came reluctantly further awake, and by then he was able to make out words. "Oh -- fuck yeah -- oh yeah." Rolling over, Harry cracked an eye open to see what was going on without him.
Snape was kneeling between Draco's legs, crouched over with Draco's cock in his mouth, his lank dark hair falling forward to obscure his face as he sucked. Draco's back was arched to tilt his hips. When Harry shifted up onto an elbow for a better view, Draco turned toward him and stopped mouthing the string of encouraging sounds to smirk. "Good morning."
"Looks like it is for you," Harry replied, yawning and running his tongue over his teeth. The anti-hangover potion Snape had brewed had some interesting side effects; not only did Harry not have a lingering malaise, he didn't even seem to have morning breath. He wondered why Snape wasn't making a fortune selling the stuff -- not just wizards but Muggles would snap it up. "I don't think I'm actually awake yet."
"Part of you seems to be," panted Draco, nodding at Harry's morning erection. He twined his fingers into Snape's hair and tugged.
Relinquishing Draco's cock, Snape sat up and wiped his mouth absentmindedly with the back of his hand. His face seemed softened from its usual dourness this morning, though the red crease lines across his cheek and chest from the sheets doubtless contributed to that impression. "Good morning, Potter."
The incongruity of being addressed by his surname in these circumstances -- even by Snape -- made Harry snort softly. "Severus." Snape blinked. "I didn't mean to interrupt. Carry on by all means." He yawned again and stretched luxuriously. "I'll just watch, shall I?"
It seemed quite a good plan to let Snape get Draco off; might cheer his partner up, after last night, or at any rate distract him for a little while. But Draco leveled an accusation: "Lazy." Glancing down the bed, he grinned and added, "Severus, am I misremembering, or did you once offer to demonstrate for Harry that it possible to take a prick in one's mouth and another in one's arse at the same time without biting?"
"I believe I may have said that, yes," Snape allowed as Harry's cock leapt even more rigidly to attention. "But do you really believe that Potter has the self-control to bugger me so soon after awakening?"
"Self-control's not his strongest point in the morning," conceded Draco with another grin. "Sometimes he doesn't last two minutes if he hasn't been to the loo..."
"Hey!" Harry interrupted, blushing.
"...but really I was thinking that I could fuck you while you did something about that stiffy of his." Draco looked extraordinarily proud of this plan, and Harry was so relieved to see him back to himself after his unhappiness the night before that he decided not to argue further about his early morning stamina, which admittedly would never win him any sort of accolade. "Now then... Harry, you'd better move that lazy arse of yours and sit up, or Severus won't be able to reach you."
"Draco is correct," Snape agreed dryly, and Harry's cock twitched again as he realized that this meant Snape's mouth would be wrapped around it in a matter of minutes. Scooting to lean against the headboard, he spread his legs wide with Snape kneeling between them. Draco picked up the pot of lube and slicked his own cock, then began to apply it to Snape.
Harry thought that Snape might simply start in on him, but instead he found himself being kissed with great hunger and thoroughness. It surprised Harry; in a way such a kiss was more intimate than fucking. Perhaps Snape assumed that Draco was sufficiently busy not to notice... yet though Draco might not have minded, he certainly did notice. "Can you taste my prick on him, Harry?" he snickered.
"Maybe a little," Harry replied when Snape came up for air, leaving him breathless and more aroused than ever. Snape's dark eyes stared into his own, and after a moment's concentration, the room began to swim as Harry found himself looking at erotic memories and fantasies -- some involving him, some involving Draco, some involving the two of them together in rather elaborate scenarios.
"It isn't nice to go poking around in someone's thoughts without permission," Snape said softly, bringing Harry back abruptly to the present. He bit his lip, but he was sure that Snape could have stopped him had he wished to.
"I might say the same to you. You were using Legilimency on me the last time, weren't you?"
"And you made no effort to block me. I think you find it a comfort that someone knows exactly how wanton the Chosen One chooses to be." With that, Snape bent his head, raising his hips to give Draco better access while his mouth descended to lick across the head of Harry's cock.
A groan escaped Harry's lips. Snape was mouthing him softly, with gentle laps at odds with the intensity of the kiss they had just shared. When the wet warmth of Snape's tongue slid along the length of his cock and then around his balls, barely tugging at them, he almost came. Stroking the back of Snape's neck, Harry looked up and met Draco's grey eyes. He wished that he could tell what Draco was thinking, too, but Draco was always resolute in keeping Harry out of his mind at such times.
"Now, Severus," said Draco, keeping his gaze fixed on Harry as he pushed forward into Snape's arse. Harry could feel Snape's response in the way that his mouth moved; he didn't clamp down at all, but rather relaxed. Harry decided he was being so careful that he was overcompensating. Once Draco had established a rhythm, though, Snape matched it, shifting back to the head of Harry's cock and sucking on it in time to Draco's thrusts, so that it was almost as if Harry were fucking Snape as well.
He clenched his fists, willing himself to hold out. Last time Snape had sucked him, he hadn't lasted nearly long enough to enjoy to the full that agile tongue. "Oh, god -- so tight -- oh fuck," breathed Draco, his face contorting in bliss, and Harry added his own whimper to Draco's noises. Snape's hands gripped Harry's thighs. His throat seemed to open up to Harry's cock and he gave a pleased kind of hum, sending a delicious shiver through all of Harry's nerves.
"Hurry," he groaned to Draco, knowing that there was no way he could hold back for long no matter how badly he wanted to. His bladder was quite full from all the wine he'd drunk the night before, and the added pressure just intensified his desire to come.
"I promised him I'd be gentle," Draco reminded Harry, though he was thrusting quite vigorously. "Wouldn't want to make him bite you..."
At that moment Snape did something with his tongue on the underside of Harry's cock, and Harry cried out, cutting Draco off. Apparently pleased with this response, Snape did it again. "Coming, Draco, oh fuck, please," Harry gasped, seeing amusement in Draco's eyes; he was usually the vocal one.
"Come on, Harry," Draco encouraged, as Snape made that flickering tug once more, and Harry did, spilling with a strangled shout into Snape's mouth, his hips rising and his hands knotting into the sheet. Remarkably, Snape still managed to keep his teeth away from Harry's cock, swallowing and licking at him as the last shocks of orgasm died away.
When Snape let go and lifted his head, Draco started pounding harder, growling, "Fuck -- yeah -- fuck," over and over. Snape looked at Harry with a slightly smug twist to his lips, and once more Harry found himself caught up in images that he knew were Snape's fantasies. One was particularly prominent, and almost without thinking he wriggled out from under Snape's braced arms and came to his knees to Draco's left side. It was awkward to insert himself between Snape's thigh and Draco's close-pressed body but he managed to work his tongue beneath Draco's thrusting cock, licking at the backs of Snape's balls.
"Oh that's hot," moaned Draco. Harry didn't know whether he meant in a literal sense or not; his tongue was brushing Draco's cock and his spittle was mixing with the lube. Snape, meanwhile, let out a surprisingly loud moan, spreading his legs more widely. "So dirty, you love it, don't you," grunted Draco, and Snape let out another wordless cry as he spurted over his own hand, sending white spatters onto the sheet underneath him. Harry was sure Draco was about to make a joke about how Snape had been almost as quick as Potter, but Draco's face was twisted in concentration. "Oh, fuck, that's... fuck!"
Draco's fingers bit into Snape's hips, pulling him back hard as Draco thrust once more, grunting, "Fuck, Severus, yeah," and then stiffening as he came in little shudders. Harry loved to see Draco's expression as he came; sometimes still Draco kept the mask of cold pride that he had worn in their schooldays, although less and less often now, but in ecstasy it invariably shattered into triumphant joy.
"Oh, yeah," Draco gulped as his grip on Snape relaxed. "Fuck. What made you think of that, Harry?"
"It was Severus's idea." Snape sagged forward, Draco's cock sliding messily from his arse.
"He may never have mastered Occlumency to the extent I might have hoped, but Potter seems to have picked up a greater degree of Legilimency than I'd expected as well," said Snape. Twisting, he looked at up at Harry, who felt his spent cock give an odd squirm.
"If the two of you are going to be rude enough to read each other's minds while we're all in bed together, I'd think the least you could do is give him what he's been hoping for." Harry couldn't help whimpering softly, which drew the older man's eyes in his direction.
Harry was sure that Snape could read the fantasy in his mind, his hope that Snape and Draco both would tie him to the headboard and put their mouths all over him. He moaned again, and Snape quirked an eyebrow. "You really have been training him to be quite dissolute."
"Nothing he didn't want, and particularly from you," Draco shot back. He was grinning proudly, and a moment later, one of the pillowcases had forcefully ejected its pillow and begun to tie itself around one of Harry's wrists.
Harry assumed that it was Snape who had charmed the pillowcase, but Draco quickly picked up on what Harry wanted and reached for his wand. "Incarcerous." Before Harry could move, his ankles had been bound as well, and he was lying spread out like a starfish. Snape had propped himself on one elbow, regarding Harry thoughtfully, and Draco squatted on his heels with a particularly wicked expression.
"Yes, wanton is the right word, I think." Snape stroked Harry's hip, and he felt a rush of lust although his cock wasn't quite ready for another round yet. He squeaked as Snape's fingers tugged at the hair around his balls.
"Talk to him," suggested Draco. "Tell him how greedy he is." He rested one hand on Snape to keep his balance.
"Potter already knows how greedy he is." Snape's voice was low and sibilant; he might have been speaking Parseltongue, so drawn out were the S-sounds at the ends of words. Whimpering again, Harry twisted in the bonds, but they held him tightly. "You don't particularly enjoy being everyone's savior, do you? It stops you from wallowing in all the perverse behavior you would otherwise indulge in as often as possible."
"You're one to talk," Harry panted.
"Oh, but I've never enjoyed the privileges of being the Chosen One," Snape replied smoothly. "That opens more doors than even Malfoy money, doesn't it?" And it was true: Harry had had offers for payment just for associating his name with certain businesses, he'd been given the use of people's vacation homes, there wasn't a major social event to which he didn't receive an owl. He hated it. "No one expects anything from me beyond bile and resentment. You may think I'm going to taste your precious skin because it's what you want..." Harry moaned helplessly, straining at the knots again. "...but I'm going to do it because it's what I want."
"Oh god, please," Harry shuddered. His cock was stiffening in spite of his recent orgasm.
"God? That's quite a concession from you, Potter, when you used to refuse even to address me by my proper title." Snape sounded more gratified than surprised, though. "You're much happier now, aren't you, admitting that you're not anything special after all. You can't hide here, you can't play the part of the golden boy when we can see how dirty you are. Malfoy -- show him."
Bending down, Draco buried his face in Harry's armpit, making a disdainful sniffing noise that he immediately contradicted by sinking his tongue deep into the wiry hair. Harry whimpered, and Snape went on, "I want your eyes open." Snape was planning to read his mind again, Harry was sure of that -- he was going to see exactly how much Harry loved this. The thought should have been humiliating, but instead it was almost unbearably arousing. He was nearly fully erect again, and Snape reached over to grasp his cock. "You're going to come from this, and I'm going to be holding you when you do. Draco -- make it as slow as you can."
Harry could feel Draco grinning against him as Snape took Harry's cock in his hand; he could feel the room distorting with Legilimency, but it went both ways, and he could see how much Snape enjoyed touching him like this even as his own thoughts were being drawn out. Draco was raising goosebumps on him, making his nipples tighten, and Harry groaned helplessly, digging his fingers into the taut cotton that bound his wrists, thinking he might come before Snape had even...
"Don't you dare," Snape said softly, bending to kiss him, and Harry concentrated on the threat in that voice, not because he was afraid of Snape but because he didn't want to disappoint him. The kisses were hard and hungry, sliding down Harry's throat with such force that Harry expected happily to find himself marked there.
After what seemed like several minutes, Draco switched to the other side. Harry squirmed in his bonds, wanting Snape even closer; the urgency he felt must have been picked up, because Snape obliged, rather awkwardly swinging one knee across Harry's thigh so that he straddled it, the tip of his cock now touching Harry's. Draco had started to pinch Harry's nipples, and he wailed with need.
"Now, Potter," Snape said, low-voiced, tugging mercilessly on his cock. The heat of everything happening to him came together in spiraling excitement. "Yes," hissed Snape, "come for me, Harry." He felt his muscles go rigid as white spunk shot through Snape's fingers.
"And you think I'm spoiled," Draco said approvingly as Harry tried to catch his breath, aware of Snape's gaze scanning his flushed face as he came slowly back to himself. The ties on his wrists abruptly loosened, and without thought Harry slid a hand down his belly into the slippery mess covering him, lifting the fingers to his nose and sniffing them. "Your turn to clean up."
"And your turn to go make tea," Harry shot back. Leaning over to pick up his wand, Draco fired off a spell in the direction of the doorway, and Harry knew that there would be hot tea momentarily. With Snape still watching him intently, he closed his eyes and concentrated on Scourgify-ing himself and the bed, but only the sheets around him dried properly.
"You have to want to do it, Potter," Snape reminded him mildly, touching his fingers. Instantly Harry was dry and the semen streaking his belly was gone. Before Snape could pull away, he caught his hand.
"Thank you. Sir."
He caught a last flash from Snape's thoughts before he was closed out of them again, and reveled in the knowledge that Snape loved tying up Harry just as much as Harry loved having it happen. The only immediate response, though, was a raised eyebrow and the slightest of smiles.
Draco got up and went, still naked, to fetch the tea -- he had a tendency to crack the cups if he summoned them magically. Harry shoved himself up to lean against the headboard, and Snape touched his leg. "You're welcome."
"Why..." Harry started to ask, but Draco whipped back into the room, tea tray in hands, and plunked it down on the bed next to Harry. He sat cross-legged on the mattress and poured them each a cup, adding two sugars to Harry's and handing Snape his unsweetened.
"This is very domestic," Draco said, then snickered.
"I generally take my tea in the kitchen, with my robes on, or at least a dressing gown," Snape retorted with a trace of his familiar condescension.
"Now why does it not surprise me that you don't walk around undressed even in your own house? You know what, Severus -- I think you're even more uptight than Harry, here."
"I am not uptight!" objected Harry.
"Not as much as you used to be. Still, remember how you objected the first time I wanted to be tied up? And the first time I got you to spank me? And the..."
"Just because I'd never done it before does not make me uptight!" Glancing at Snape, Harry found him pressing his lips together, not looking entirely pleased with the turn of the conversation.
"Malfoy is, as usual, confusing hedonism with eroticism. I would have thought you'd have learned by now that the sum total of one's experiences does not accurately predict their quality."
"If you're trying to say that you know better than I do when it comes to sex, Severus, well of course you have years more experiences, but I might just have a greater variety," Draco disagreed. "Sure, not all of them were wonderful, but who can expect that?"
Snape's smile was tight indeed. "I would be very surprised if you had a greater variety of experiences than I," he said softly. "More partners, no doubt, but that is quite unimportant next to what one does, and why."
"Why? To enjoy yourself, obviously. Why else?" Draco took a gulp of his tea.
"How about because you care for the other person?" Harry knew that his own sexual history was much less sophisticated than either of theirs, but even with that limited experience he could be certain that for him, the emotional dimension added to his satisfaction. If something was fun in general, he thought, it had to be even better with someone you loved.
"Are you still going on about that? Do you honestly think it feels that different to close your eyes and be sucked off by one mouth or another? Sometimes it's more exciting to get it on with a total stranger, or even someone you don't like -- you don't know what's going to happen."
"Oh, and is that how we ended up in bed together?" Harry asked sardonically. When they had first encountered one another after the war and the months of aftermath, he had put Draco off for a long time, certain at first that Draco was pursuing him only to form an alliance and out of a sense of remorse about Draco's own role as a Death Eater. By the time Draco had convinced him of his sincerity, they both knew that there was something more complicated than curiosity and superficial attraction.
And with Snape it was even more enigmatic; Harry had never been at all attracted to him, at least not consciously, yet it had been a tremendous relief to discover that Snape had never been his enemy... that even Dumbledore's death had been for a reason, that Harry did not have to continue to hate him. Just now Snape was refusing to meet his eyes, and he wondered whether Snape had felt something similar. Maybe the relief of no longer having to hate Harry so that Voldemort could not sense anything else had made other feelings possible.
Draco was looking at both of them with narrowed eyes. "You both believe that soppy stuff," he accused. "Severus, I'm surprised at you. Aren't you supposed to be gloating? You finally got Harry to call you 'Sir.'"
Shrugging, Snape took a sip of his tea. It occurred to Harry that Draco was very likely correct; if Snape believed in the "soppy stuff," that would explain some things about him, such as his resolutely single state. If he had loved someone unavailable -- although Harry tried not to think that it could have been Lucius Malfoy -- he might not have been willing to settle for anyone else.
"It only shows that even Potter can be taught manners, if he has sufficient incentive. There is strong precedent in history for sex as a motivator, and it's hardly worth gloating to have succeeded in using it here."
"You -- for Merlin's sake." Draco shook his head. "Listen to yourself... 'there is strong precedent for sex as a motivator,'" he mimicked, sounding uncannily like Snape. "The reason why it's a good motivator is because it's fun, Severus. There's no need to confuse things by thinking you have to be in love with the other person -- that's Harry's problem."
"I don't have a problem!" said Harry with indignation. "It's not as if you're not benefiting from the fact that I think love and sex go together."
"I am confusing nothing," Snape assured Draco as if Harry had not spoken. "I learned to distinguish between sex and intimacy a long time ago, though I was not quite young enough to be spared some foolish mistakes."
Draco's eyebrows shot up as Snape buried his face in his teacup again. Now Harry wondered if he did mean Lucius. Had Snape joined the Death Eaters not out of any admiration for Voldemort or his philosophy, but because someone he cared for very much had invited him? It was hard to imagine, but Lucius had probably not been so brittle when he was young, nor so self-assured... and he must have been very handsome, a more formal, patrician version of Draco.
Draco thought Snape only wanted Harry to prove some sort of mastery. Was that why Draco thought Snape wanted him, too? It made Harry sort of sad. "Would you actually like it if he said he didn't care about either of us? That it was just our fine young arses?"
Now Draco hesitated. "I wouldn't like it, necessarily, but I wouldn't mind," he said finally, but Harry thought that the denial was more pretense than real. "Not if the sex was the same."
"It wouldn't be." Harry could say that in complete confidence. "Because if he said that then I wouldn't be so keen on it. I'm not saying that I think that you have to be in love to have good sex," he explained, as Snape looked at him. "Just that -- well -- then it's better. That's all."
"So as long as Severus doesn't actually say that he doesn't care, you'll assume he does, and be happy. And I won't assume, but I won't be fussed about it." Draco set down his empty cup on the tray and poured himself more tea.
"You realize that we could ask him, rather than discussing the matter in hypothetical terms," said Harry with a glance in Snape's direction.
"Yes, but that ruins the mystery, doesn't it?" grinned Draco. "It isn't like I'd necessarily expect him to tell the truth, anyway." Snape's rather beaky nose wrinkled as his eyes narrowed at Draco. "You're not going to say anything drippy to me because you don't trust me not to hold it over your head later. But you want Harry to believe one thing and me to believe another -- he just said he wouldn't be keen on it if he thought you didn't have feelings for him, but it wouldn't exactly be smart to tell my boyfriend something like that in front of me, now would it?"
"I believe Potter is the one you are testing here, not me," said Snape rather irritably.
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked him blankly.
"Last night Draco was distraught because he believed Lucius would break all ties with him for sharing his life with you. This morning the three of us have been... let's merely say that this is not the most traditional of arrangements. What precisely were you hoping for when you invited me here for dessert that first time, Malfoy... to learn that Potter wasn't really interested after all? Or are you trying to accustom him to the idea that it might be possible to bring in another partner, perhaps even a wife, and thus keep your male lover while pleasing your parents?"
"That's...! I'm not...!" Draco spluttered. He turned to Harry. "You can't possibly believe that I'd do that!"
Harry didn't really think that Draco had been quite so cunning as Snape was suggesting, not when Draco had so emphatically refused Lucius' demands last night, and had pleaded with both Harry and Snape to help him think of a way out of his dilemma. Nevertheless, the possibility sent a pang through him and he looked hard at Draco. "You've considered it, haven't you? You like having sex with girls, too, or at least so you've told me. If you could convince me that we would stay together even if you got married as your father wants, wouldn't you want to do that?"
Draco looked angry and horrified and trapped, all at once, his mouth opening but no words coming out. Harry waited. "I can't believe this," he said finally. "Did you listen to one word that I said to my father? If I ever got married -- if, I don't know, you decided to study with one of those esoteric schools of magic that demands celibacy and broke it off with me, and I started seeing a witch -- it wouldn't be because it was what my parents wanted, it would have to be what I wanted! And who you want to shag isn't the same thing as who you want to spend your life with! If my father wants to keep the Malfoy blood in circulation so badly, he can find some pureblood couple who can't have children and offer to donate his precious seed."
"A lot of Muggles do that, you know," snickered Harry, very amused at the idea of Lucius Malfoy walking into a Muggle laboratory to make a donation.
Draco glared at him and Snape glanced over as if Harry had gone daft, but after a moment they both started smiling as well. "I should tell him I've done that!" crowed Draco. "If he's so determined to keep the Malfoy bloodline alive, I should tell him I've generously offered it to the entire world. Dozens of Muggle women could be walking around carrying my halfblood offspring!"
"He would cut you out of the family before Rita Skeeter could print the news," Snape said dryly. "Not merely do everything he could to disinherit you, but prevent all contact between himself and your mother, and you."
"That's true," said Harry, watching Draco's grin fade. "But it might be worth it, just to see his face!"
"He's probably going to cut me off anyway, if I keep refusing his demands to get married." A wicked glint crept into Draco's eyes. "I could make the donations and save telling him for whenever he decides to give me an ultimatum. I can't imagine that it's a difficult process!"
"Actually, you know," said Harry thoughtfully, "there might be some Wizarding families -- not necessarily just purebloods -- who'd be interested in that sort of thing. Magic can't solve all medical problems; I remember when Arthur Weasley was in St. Mungo's once and they tried some Muggle healing techniques. There should be more attempts to bring wizard and Muggle ideas together."
"A variant of the practice you speak of is not unknown among purebloods." Harry and Draco both looked at Snape, who cocked an eyebrow at their expressions. "Don't look so surprised; I'm sure you've noticed that wizards incline to greater discretion than Muggles about their intimate lives. The ancient pureblood families could hardly be described as healthy after so many generations. So-called blood traitors tend to have stronger children. One of the reasons the Dark Lord was so successful at recruiting purebloods with hints of conquering death was their inability to keep their population steady."
"I always thought my parents only had one child because my mother didn't want to get fat or something," said Draco. "Are you saying maybe they couldn't have another child?"
Snape hesitated, then his lips pressed together. "It is not my place to speculate," he said shortly.
"Come on... you know something. What is it?"
Again Snape answered with uncharacteristic reluctance. "As you know, your mother has always made much of the fact that you are her only son," he said. "I have never spoken directly with her about whether she wanted other children."
Maybe not, thought Harry, but he was quite sure Snape had spoken to Lucius. If you wanted a fertility draught, who better to ask than a Potions master? "Professor," he began, not realizing what he was saying until Snape and Draco both looked at him strangely, and Harry belatedly saw the humor of addressing the man naked on the bed beside him in such a manner. "Severus. Are you saying... do you think the ancient wizarding lines will die out if they keep marrying each other?"
"My opinion is unimportant," Snape said. "There are only the numbers to consider. The Blacks are gone. The two of you are the last of the Malfoy and Potter lineages. Harry, your father may have made the wiser choice, marrying a woman of Muggle origins." But Snape said that last with something dark in his voice, and Harry was left to wonder whether it was because of Snape's feelings about James Potter or Snape's own origins... from what Harry knew, he had tried to hide his half-blood birth much as Voldemort had done.
"Well, I've had enough of discussing bloodlines. I'm going to fetch breakfast," said Draco, climbing off the bed again. But he looked thoughtful, and Harry wondered if he was plotting his next discussion with Lucius.
Snape was staring into his cup, swirling the dregs of it. "You're not planning to try to read the tea leaves, are you, to see what Draco will do?" Harry asked.
"Certainly not." Snape sniffed. "Divination is a questionable discipline at best, as I'm sure you would agree. And Draco has never been entirely predictable."
"But..." Harry only dared to say it because Draco was not there. "You saw him at the worst time of his life, when he'd failed to kill Dumbledore and was wanted by both sides. I'd think you might have more of an idea than I have just what he might choose to do if he felt trapped beyond any escape. He doesn't talk about his feelings much to me, except as a joke, or when he can't get out of it. And I'd bet that you know Lucius even better. Why is he so stuck on Draco having children? If he's so keen on perpetuating pureblood lines, why did he have only the one son himself? I can see why you might not want to discuss his father with Draco, but if you know anything useful, you could at least tell me."
"You know perfectly well that Draco has been indoctrinated since he was a small child to accept his responsibility to his inheritance, just as Lucius was before him," Snape said with a hint of warning in his voice. "You must also understand that what he wants at this young age may have changed significantly by the time he is his father's age. Lucius is wise to believe that he can wait and continue to exert this pressure; evidently it is already having some effect."
Harry had not even been certain that he would live to see twenty, knowing the role for which he had been singled out as a baby. Forty remained inaccessible to him, off in a future he could not imagine. "You're saying Draco might change his mind about what he wants," he said dully.
"I am also saying that you might change your mind."
The thought made Harry uncomfortable. "You think I don't really love Draco," he accused.
Snape sighed. "Potter, it would be helpful if you would listen to what I actually say. People do change. As I recall, it's not so long since you loathed Draco... and myself too, for that matter."
"If people change, though, why does it seem that Lucius won't?" demanded Harry. "Don't give me all that about indoctrination. As you pointed out, Draco had it, too, but he's resisting it. So why not his father?" He wasn't sure why he was harping on Lucius so much, except that he felt Snape was evading saying anything definite or useful when he must have known something. He thought that Snape was about to answer when Draco reappeared in the doorway.
"I think I want a substantial breakfast after all that exercise," he declared. "How about you two?"
"Sounds good to me," Harry said, and Snape nodded. "If you don't mind the bother, that thing you make with the eggs and mushrooms is delicious."
"Omelets?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "No, quiche. It'll take a little while, but if that's what you want..." He vanished again, calling back, "You two could shower in the meantime. I'll be in when it's in the oven -- twenty minutes, maybe."
"Come on then," said Harry eagerly, drawing a smirk from Draco and a startled, though not displeased, look from Snape. He blushed a little; he had the ulterior motive of thinking that Snape might open up more with the water running, where there was no risk of being overheard by Draco, but although Harry tried to broach the subject of Snape's own investment in the matter of Lucius, Draco, and himself, he found himself being very quickly distracted by Snape's hands pinning him against the tile wall and Snape's mouth hungrily tasting his skin.
By the time he managed to catch his breath, Draco was stepping in, laughing. "You're both more of a mess than when I sent you in here!" He was holding a new bar of soap in his hand. Glancing at the ceramic holder in the wall, Harry discovered that in fact they had none left; he and Snape hadn't even noticed.
Handing the soap to Snape, Draco stepped between him and Harry. "Wash me. I do the cooking, you do the cleaning, isn't that right?"
It had always seemed a fair arrangement to Harry, but he was beginning to wonder whether there weren't some messes too old and persistent for him to make them go away.
ch. 1 / ch. 2 / ch. 3 / ch. 4 / ch. 5 / ch. 6 / ch. 7 / ch. 8 / ch. 9 / ch. 10 / ch. 11 / ch. 12 / ch. 13 / ch. 14 / ch. 15 / ch. 16 / ch. 17