Title: After the Tower
Author: centaury_squill
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Severus Snape
Rating: R
Kinks/Themes Chosen: anal inserts
Other Warnings: masturbation, voyeurism
Word Count: 1,620
Summary/Description: What if Harry had succeeded in catching Draco and Snape as they fled from Hogwarts after Dumbledore's murder?


Harry searched desperately for his wand; Draco was already out of sight beyond the school gates, Snape hard on his heels: soon it would be too late. With an enraged screech, Buckbeak swept overhead, striking viciously at Snape with his talons. Harry's breath caught in his throat with almost a sob.

At last Harry's fumbling fingers found something buried in the long grass. It slid smoothly into his hand, familiar and welcoming: his wand. With a yell of triumph he leaped to his feet and ran as fast as he could towards the school gates. Snape was only feet ahead of him now, Buckbeak doing his best to drive him back – surely Harry could catch him in time. Harry skidded through the gates seconds behind Snape, then whirled as he caught sight of Malfoy lurking behind a gatepost, his pale face set and unhappy.

Both boys raised their wands and simultaneously shouted "Expelliarmus!"

Their wands flew up and collided in mid-air; Snape caught them one-handed, snarling with pain and rage. His face was fixed, inhuman; his robes were torn; he bled from countless scratches where Buckbeak's talons had raked him. Seizing Malfoy's arm in a vicelike grip, he shouted, "Enough! We must go!"

But just as they Apparated, Harry managed to grab hold of Draco's ankle, not caring that he might get Splinched, only intent on avenging Dumbledore's murder. Instantly he felt the dreaded compression as he was pulled along with them. It seemed to last a very long time, but at last they arrived; for a moment Harry caught sight of the impressive wrought iron gates of Malfoy Manor, then with an oath from Snape they were off again, a shorter constriction this time, ending up in a confused heap on soft grass under an old oak tree.

Harry had banged his head on a tree root: he lay, eyes closed, dizzily listening to Snape and Malfoy arguing.

"Of course we cannot go to your home with our unwanted guest, the Dark Lord would kill him!"

"I thought that was the idea!"

"Foolish boy, do you want his blood on your hands?"

There was a long silence. Harry opened his eyes a crack. His head was throbbing painfully, he found it hard to think. Surely Snape wasn't trying to save him from Voldemort? He saw Snape glaring at Malfoy, who stared sulkily back at him.

"No...no, I don't," Malfoy said at last, in a small, petulant voice, "But I thought you do... you killed Dumbledore after all."

"These are things you know nothing of, Draco," Snape snarled. "Dumbledore ordered me –" He snapped his mouth shut, as if regretting his words.

Harry caught his breath. Dumbledore had ordered what? For Snape to save Harry? For Snape to kill Dumbledore himself? No, that was unthinkable. And yet... Harry remembered forcing Dumbledore to drink Voldemort's evil potion in the cave even though it might kill him, remembered Dumbledore's insistence. Remembered his curse-blackened hand...

Shaking his head to clear it, he became aware that Snape and Malfoy were still deep in urgent discussion.

"Where can we be safe while I think how best to return Potter to Hogwarts without any awkward questions being asked?"

"Why would you want –" At Snape's glare, Malfoy broke off. "Oh, all right," he said sulkily, "I suppose we can go to the gamekeeper's cottage."

"Won't he be – ah. That gamekeeper."

"Yeah, that's right. The one who objected to Nagini eating his pheasant chicks."

Harry saw Malfoy wince, as at an unpleasant memory.

"And he's not been replaced?" asked Snape.

"No. Word gets round. My father couldn't find anyone who wanted the job. Strange, that." Malfoy gave a mirthless laugh.

"Very well. Where is this cottage?"

"Not far. I'll show you. If you can stop him –" with a sneer at Harry, "– trying to kill us."

Snape turned to Harry. From the wary look on his face he expected trouble, but Harry only said, "Looks like I've got no choice. You've still got my wand, after all."

*
The gamekeeper's cottage belonging to Malfoy Manor was a small building, tucked away in a small wood on the edge of the estate. It possessed only one bedroom, which Draco Malfoy immediately commandeered, saying he felt exhausted.

Snape and Harry were left facing each other in the small kitchen. A whirl of thoughts filled Harry's brain: had Dumbledore really ordered Snape to kill him? Where did Malfoy stand in all this? Did they know about the Horcruxes? He had to know...

He opened his mouth to demand explanations, but to his surprise found himself saying, in a tone of awed respect, "Are you really the Half-Blood Prince, sir?"

Snape gave him a hard look, suspecting cheek. What he saw must have reassured him, however, for he said, comparatively mildly, "Yes, Potter, I am – I was."

"And Dumbledore – why did –?"

Snape did not reply, but Draco's voice came from behind Harry, full of boastful pride. "Professor Snape swore an Unbreakable Vow to my mother, that he'd protect me."

Harry looked down quickly. Not quickly enough, however, for Snape gave a short, mirthless bark of laughter and said, "Jealous, Potter? You needn't be. I've been protecting you since you first came to Hogwarts." He didn't sound especially pleased by this.

Draco sauntered into the kitchen, pushing his way past Harry, and began rummaging in one of the cupboards, muttering to himself.

"Now where – I know old Mellors had some – ah!" He triumphantly pulled a bottle of Firewhisky out of the cupboard and retreated, followed by a contemptuous sneer from Snape.

Harry felt strangely embarrassed; part of him still wanted to shout at Snape, demand explanations, curse him for a murderer – but another part was trying to reconcile the bitter, scowling man in front of him with the boy who had taught him so much: the Half-Blood Prince.

Snape gave him a sharp look and said shortly, "You had better get some sleep for what is left of the night."

Harry reluctantly climbed the stairs to the one bedroom, which Snape had told him he must share with Draco. He opened the door as quietly as possible, hoping that Malfoy would be asleep, then stopped stock-still on the threshold, hardly believing what he was seeing.

Draco Malfoy lay, completely naked, on top of the covers. He was on his side, his back turned to the door, and Harry stared speechlessly at his rounded, peachlike buttocks, for Draco was tugging a long string of what looked like glass beads out of his arse.

Harry must have made some noise, for Draco rolled over and saw him. His pale face pinked with embarrassment.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Harry asked.

At the sight of Harry's shocked, bewildered face, Draco quickly recovered his composure. "They're anal beads, Potter," he drawled. "A wonderful way of relieving stress. You should try it."

"You carry them around with you?" blurted Harry.

Draco gave a supercilious smirk. "Don't be silly, Potter, I Transfigured them. Out of the Firewhisky bottle. You surely didn't think I drink that rotgut stuff, did you?"

Harry was staring, fascinated, at the string of glass beads dangling from Draco's arse. He saw that they increased in size from a pea to a Snitch (minus its wings) and glistened with lubricant. "You relieve stress by stuffing beads up your arse?"

Harry heard a dark chuckle; sensed Snape close behind him.

"That isn't all he does."

Harry glanced round, saw Snape's gaze fixed on the graceful form reclining on the bed.

"Oh, Malfoy is quite the exhibitionist," Snape continued softly. "Show Potter how else you relieve stress, Draco."

With a smug little smirk, Draco lay back, displaying his half-hard cock springing from its nest of blond curls. He drew his knees up so they had a good view of his arse with its dangling tail of beads, then took a firm grip of his cock with his left hand. It rapidly hardened under his strokes; Harry felt himself going hard in response; a little whimper escaped him.

Draco reached down with his other hand and began to fumble with his anal beads.

"Allow me to assist you," Snape said, his voice suddenly hoarse. With a glance at Harry he added, "You may like to learn another of the Half-Blood Prince's spells." With that he flicked his wand and murmured, "Mobilanus."

The beads immediately took on a life of their own, moving smoothly in and out of Draco's arse, now slowly, now quickly, until he was panting and moaning with pleasure.

Harry stood mesmerised by the slippery slide of the glistening glass beads, hardly noticing when Snape moved closer to stand beside him, his arm brushing against Harry's in the narrow doorway. They both watched as Draco stroked his cock with one hand, rolled his balls in their sack with the other, clenching then relaxing his arse around the smoothly sliding beads, which sped up in response to his urgent cries of pleasure. His head was flung back, his blond hair spilling over the pillow, his neck arched. Harry had a sudden, shocking, urge to bite it.

He felt Snape make the minutest movement beside him. Harry saw, in a quick glance, that Snape's face was impassive, carved in stone, deep lines chiselled either side of his mouth – and yet he knew, without knowing how, that Snape was as aroused as he was himself.

And so, in a unique moment out of time, Harry and Severus were united – forgetting their past differences, Dumbledore's death, the Dark Lord himself – as together they watched the blond Slytherin bring himself to a perfect climax upon the bed.

-the end-