Title: Favours
Author/Artist: Elfflame
Pairing: Severus/Draco, Draco/Pansy, vague reference to others
Word Count (of fic):
Rating: R
Summary: Snape does a favor for Narcissa Malfoy. And takes his own reward.
Kinks Chosen: Chaperoning
Author's/Artist's notes: Huge thanks to Jan, both for the help with coming up with the bunny in the first place, and for doing such a fabulous job helping me finish off the fic, and for betaing as well. So much better because of you. :D


It had been a favour to Narcissa. She still was unsure she approved of the girl, but Draco did need a wife, and Pansy seemed to be the one Draco was focusing on.

To be sure, Severus would much have preferred a quiet evening in his study, reading up on the latest Potions discoveries, learning how to speak another language—or read it, or, god forbid, having tea with Albus Dumbledore, twinkles and all. Instead, here he was, at the Prancing Peacock, one of the most exclusive Wizarding restaurants in Britain, making sure that the two did not touch, kiss, or even look slantwise at each other too much.

Draco had been inching closer to Pansy throughout the evening. He would glance at Severus, then lean in to say something under his breath to Pansy, scooting his chair ever so slightly closer as he did so before straightening up. And when he dared to look back at Severus, there was a smug pleasure there that he longed to slap from the boy’s face.

Pansy’s usual shriek of a giggle had been getting lower as Draco moved closer to her, until it was almost more a purr than a laugh. That was when Severus decided it was time to act. “Miss Parkinson, if you will excuse us for a moment?”

Both teens looked at him, surprised. “Sir?” Draco asked.

“I need to speak to you, Mr Malfoy.” Draco glowered at him, and opened his mouth to argue, but Severus spoke first. “Now, Mr Malfoy,” he said as he rose to his feet, scowling down at him.

Draco was too well-bred to sigh, but he turned to speak to Pansy first. “We’ll be right back,” he assured her, then stood and followed as Severus led the way to the cloakroom across the restaurant from where they had been sitting.

Once they were out of the line-of-sight from where Pansy sat, and from the restaurant in general, Severus took Draco’s chin sharply in his hand. “Just what do you think you are doing, Draco?”

The boy smirked. “I was flirting with my date, sir.”

Severus growled. “Did you perhaps misunderstand why I am here, boy?”

Draco’s smirk grew. “I don’t think so, sir. Unless I’m unaware of how chaperones work… You’re here to prevent me from doing what I want to.”

Severus’s eyes narrowed to thin slits. “I am here, wasting my evening, which could be used in a far more pleasurable manner, to ensure that you do not compromise your name, or that girl, in any way. Are we clear, Mr Malfoy?”

A pale eyebrow rose. “Perfectly, sir.”

“Good.” His hand fell from Draco’s chin, and he led the way back into the restaurant, where their food had just arrived. Good. Maybe the night would be over sooner than expected?

But things did not improve. In fact, Draco seemed to be even less sly in his advances on his date than before. Did he honestly think that Severus would simply sit here and watch? The final straw came when Draco’s hand disappeared beneath the table for the third time in the last half hour.

“Mr Malfoy,” Severus snarled. “Come with me.”

He stood, and waited until the seemingly unconcerned boy moved ahead of him towards the cloakroom once more before following, leaving Pansy to fend for herself until they returned.

Severus was about to begin shouting at the boy the moment they entered the room, but Draco stepped closer to him, and the hems of their robes brushed, sending a shiver of…something up Severus’s spine. His mouth snapped shut, and the boy grinned. “I know why you’re upset, Professor.”

Obsidian eyes met silver. “And why is that?” he ground out.

“You just don’t want to see someone else getting what you can’t have, sir,” Draco’s grin widened.

Snape huffed. “And why would I want Miss Parkinson? She is half my age.”

“I didn’t say you wanted her, sir…” Draco’s tongue slid slowly across his lips, then disappeared once more. Damnedable boy.

“Then what are you implying, Mr Malfoy?”

Draco stretched up onto his toes, his dress robes sliding smoothly against Severus’s, and his voice whispered softly in his ear. “I think you know, Severus.”

The shiver down his back had been replaced by an electric current, and there were parts of his body reacting to that current that should never have gotten involved, but Severus gritted his teeth, and growled at the boy, who had drawn just slightly away. “If you are implying what I think you are implying, Mr Malfoy, you are gravely mistaken. I suggest that if you wish to have any kind of companionship in the future, you behave like the proper pure-blooded scion you are. Are we understood?”

The smile hadn’t faded in the slightest. “I think I understand better than you do, sir.”

“If we come back to this room for a third time,” Severus growled, “you will not like what happens.”

“Of course, sir,” the boy said calmly, and Severus had to clench his hands in his robes to keep them from swinging out and slapping the boy. “Is that all?”

Severus sneered down at the boy for a moment, finally responding, “For the moment.”

Draco smiled then. “Shall we go, then? I don’t want to keep Pansy waiting.”

Severus growled, but waved him from the room, wishing that he could take a moment to recover himself, but the two were simply not to be left alone. He followed only steps behind the boy, hand clasping his shoulder as he approached the table. “Why don’t you take my seat, Mr Malfoy?” he asked silkily. Perhaps it would separate the two a bit more. Draco seemed completely unaffected by this suggestion, though Pansy looked extremely put out. They switched seats, and their plates and glasses were soon exchanged, and then Draco and Pansy were talking quietly once more.

But this time, it was not Draco’s attention to Pansy that Severus noticed. Rather, it was the fact that before each inflammatory action Draco took, before each whisper, touch, or sidelong glance, there was a momentary shift of eyes in Severus’s direction. The boy was obviously trying to egg him on. But why? And had he been doing this all along? Checking to make sure Severus would see? Why would he do that?

Severus was so lost in thought that at first he didn’t register what he was seeing. Draco had taken Pansy’s hand, and with many sidelong looks at Severus, was now slowly kissing each finger. Severus saw red. For whatever reason, the boy was goading him, and he refused to tolerate it any longer. He rose to his feet, and without another word to either teen, grabbed Draco’s collar, then proceeded to drag him across the restaurant.

Once in the cloakroom, he dropped Draco’s collar abruptly. “I am not in the mood for this, Draco. Either explain yourself, or cease acting in this manner, or the three of us will be leaving. Is that clear?”

Draco was flushed, but smiling. It wasn’t a particularly good sight. Severus had seen that smile before—on Lucius, shortly before he would begin some horribly complicated plan guaranteed to get him a great deal more power, and dispose of several enemies in the same stroke. “If you wish, professor.” He moved to stand toe-to-toe with Severus. “Mother wanted me to start looking for someone. I’ve chosen. I want you. But I did not think Mother would accept that for an answer, so I told her Pansy. I knew she would ask you to chaperone us. Does that explain things, sir?”

Severus didn’t know which he wanted to do first—growl at the boy, slap him, berate him, or kiss him. But somehow his body seemed to decide independent of his mind. He closed the distance between them, grabbed Draco’s shoulders, and fused their lips together. He wasn’t even sure which of them was shaking, they were so close. The boy’s arms wrapped around his waist slowly, and drew their bodies together. There was a mutual moan as cloth-covered flesh did little to conceal the need underneath.

He wanted to feel that slender body unclothed. He wanted to feel it beneath him, see the pale silken flesh before he marked it as his, before he claimed the boy completely.

Severus’s hands loosened on his shoulders, then slid down Draco’s back, pulling him even closer, fingers fondling the ridges of his spine, tracing a line down to the cleft at the base, and devouring Draco’s moan when his fingers explored even lower. They were both rubbing against each other now, oblivious to anything going on around them.

He broke away to begin nibbling at Draco’s ear and neck, but froze at the boy’s moaned “Oh, Professor…”

What was he doing? Debauching Lucius and Narcissa’s son? Was he insane? The man would have his head for it! He pulled abruptly away, and straightened his clothing and adjusting the erection their distraction had caused, while Draco blinked at him, bemused. “I think it best for all involved, Draco, if we cut this evening short,” he managed.

Several emotions flashed across Draco’s face in succession: surprise, annoyance, denial, and then a fleeting flash of something else Severus couldn’t quite catch before Draco reassumed his mask. “If you say so, sir. Shall we?”

Severus narrowed his eyes, but nodded. He waved the boy out the door, unable to stop himself from watching that very distracting behind as they made their way back to the table. Once there, Severus waved for the server, and asked for the cheque, which he quickly paid with the galleons Narcissa had provided, then followed the two teens from the restaurant.

Draco seemed to be a perfect gentleman the entire way back, but he paid no attention to Severus, which left him fuming. He could still feel the imprint of Draco’s erection on his thigh, still recalled how the boy had tasted. Had it just been a jest on the boy’s part? Was this some sort of dare or prank the others had made him do, or that he had thought up himself for lack of anything else to do, now that he was Umbridge’s pet? By the time they made it back to the school, Severus was seething. At the junction separating his quarters from the Slytherin common room, he stopped them.

“Miss Parkinson, best go on ahead. Mr Malfoy and I need to have a little discussion about proper behaviour. You can see him in the morning.”

She looked at him, wide-eyed for a moment, then turned to Draco, who nodded calmly, before she started down the hall towards their common room. Severus knew he was grinding his teeth at the boy’s gall. That the snip would actually look to him before taking her Head of House’s directions was abominable, and made his temper flare even higher. “This way, Mr Malfoy,” he growled.

Draco nodded, and headed down the hall towards Severus’s rooms. Once inside, Severus suddenly found himself at a loss, though. It was as though all the anger had just drained out of him.

Draco waited by the door, his hands clasped carefully behind his back, his face neutral. “Yes, sir?” he said, and Severus could hear just the edge of that mocking tone the boy was so fond of.

“I do not take kindly to being played with, Mr Malfoy. And this will not be happening again. Are we clear?” The anger was back, but simpler this time. A pure strain that kept him from grabbing the boy, kept his temper in check, kept him from remembering the feel of those lips on his, the way Draco’s body had felt against his own… It kept him from imagining that tongue tracing lines down his body, how that flesh would feel in his hands, how the boy would moan when he slid into him…

Draco’s mask slipped, and Severus could see that…something…once more. “We’re clear, sir.” He mumbled something under his breath that sounded vaguely like “Potter,” and Severus’s temper flared again.

“What was that?”

Draco’s chin jutted out defiantly. “Just that perhaps I should have approached Potter instead, sir.”

Severus made a face. “Potter? That wretch? Why on earth would you do that, Draco?”

Draco’s face softened, but the anger was still there. “Because I only like certain types, Severus. And if you won’t have me, maybe he will.”

Severus saw red again, though this time, it wasn’t caused by temper, but by memory. The deep red of Lily Evans’s hair, her beautiful green eyes, and her sweet smile. Right before James Potter had snatched her out from under Severus’s nose. He could just see that urchin’s gloat, so like his father’s, as he made Draco his. As he slobbered all over him, possibly even hurt Draco, simply because he could. He wouldn’t let Potter win this time. His hands were on Draco’s arms once more, and he pulled him into a deep, bruising kiss.

When he pulled away, his eyes were narrowed, and he was panting. “He can’t have you.”

Draco’s lips spread into a grin. “I’m very glad to hear it, sir.”

He pulled the boy against him, sliding his hands down to the globes of Draco’s arse and cupping them to keep the boy against him. “I would prefer, Draco, that when you are in this room, you call me Severus,” he purred.

Draco sighed happily, and leaned into him. “Yes, Severus.”

Severus decided he liked the sound of that. He hoped to hear more of it soon. Very soon.