|snarryhols (snarryhols) wrote in snarry_holidays,|
@ 2008-12-07 18:16:00
|Entry tags:||fic, giftee: umbrus, rated: nc-17|
Fic: Progress of Rehabilitation
Title: Progress of Rehabilitation
Word Count: ~9000
Warnings: All things asked for by the recipient, and a few more thrown in for good measure. Completely AU, although I picked some canon facts here and there as needed. *g* Snark, innuendo, implied-wife swapping, a smidgen of violence, rimming, tiny bit of biting and hair pulling, jealous-obsessive-possessive-parsel!smut.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: When the Wizengamot releases the most deadly wizards from Azkaban, it's up to Harry to ensure that they're properly rehabilitated. Whether he wants to or not.
Author's Notes: Thanks to several wonderful people, to be named later, that listened to me rant and rave when both Harry and Severus decided not to cooperate. umbrus, I hope you enjoy the fic and have a wonderful, Snarry-filled holiday!
Harry was certain that he'd had this dream before; or perhaps it was a nightmare, because things like this had only happened to him when Voldemort was alive, and that had definitely been a nightmare. Hedwig was shrieking in his ear, her claws digging into his shoulder through his pyjamas as she tried to wake him.
But his scar didn't hurt, and he'd been sleeping quite soundly until Hedwig had decided it was time to remind him of those nightmares. Harry knew Voldemort had been defeated in a battle several months ago, so he ignored the deafening noises and tried to snuggle down in the bed.
"Geroff, He'wig," he mumbled and pulled the blankets over his head.
Hedwig clicked her beak and redoubled her efforts. She dug her claws into the bedding and took to the air, pulling the blankets back with her talons. Dropping the sheets to the floor, she attacked again, this time going for the tender skin on Harry's ear.
Harry yelped and sat up to fight back, swinging his arms over his head in defence. He made contact with one of Hedwig's talons as she swooped back in for the next attack. Putting his thumb in his mouth and sucking away the blood, Harry gave Hedwig a bleary eyed glare, while he used his other hand to search for his glasses on the nightstand.
"Bit tetchy this morning, are we?" Harry asked Hedwig.
Hedwig hooted at him, and Harry snorted at the almost indignant noise. The world came into focus when his glasses settled into place, and he saw the reason for Hedwig's frustration.
His entire bedchamber was covered in a sea of postal parchment. Letters littered every surface imaginable, spilling on to the floor, and Harry just stared at the mess. A few piles were smouldering, where he assumed there must have been Howlers at one time. What in Merlin's name was going on? It had been quite some time since he'd been inundated with so much mail, and that thought alone made him frown.
How had it arrived in his home when there was a Fidelius Charm on the bungalow? He eyed Hedwig as she perched on her stand, grooming herself after their wake-up battle. She couldn't have possibly delivered it all. Could she? Were postal owls affected by the charm?
Arching an eyebrow and looking at Hedwig once more, Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, why did you bring me all this? You could have woken me before the place caught fire."
Hedwig stared back at him with her golden gaze, then spread her wings, taking off and clipping him in the head as she flew out the owl chute.
"Ow!" Harry tossed back the blankets and muttered as he looked around. "Merlin, what a mess."
Padding over the parchments to grab his robe, Harry stopped and bent to pick up the Daily Prophet that was lying on top of one pile. He scanned the back page of the paper then flipped it over, gasping as he read the headlines.
Wizengamot Releases Former Death Eaters!
Harry had just started to read the article accompanying the blurb when his Floo flared. He could see the face in the green flames, but he couldn't quite believe that it was actually who his eyes and mind were telling him it was. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs shock had caused, because Lucius Malfoy was staring back at him.
Malfoy smiled and Harry did another double take, still stunned to find the aristocrat in his grate. He narrowed his eyes as he saw another person walking around behind Malfoy. Tall and lanky with swishy robes flaring as the person disappeared out of visual range. Was that Snape? He wasn't certain with the distortion of the green flames, but no matter; he had other more important matters at the forefront of his mind.
"What do you want?" Harry finally managed to say, tucking the paper under his arm. "And how did you get my Floo address?"
Malfoy arched an eyebrow and opened his mouth. He quickly shut it, as if he had wanted to say something but abruptly changed his mind. "Mr Potter, my apologies for disturbing you this morning, as it appears I have pulled you from slumber…"
Malfoy directed his gaze at Harry's body then arched his brow again. Harry had the distinct impression that Malfoy was appraising him. He looked down at himself, realized he was only clad in his pyjama bottoms, and blushed. With Malfoy staring at him, he felt like a side of beef and shuddered, wanting to run from the room in embarrassment.
Barely managing to keep himself rooted to the spot, Harry cleared his throat. Malfoy looked up at him. "You didn't answer my question. This is a private Floo, one inaccessible to the general public, I might add."
Malfoy pursed his lips. "Ah, yes, well… I can see that this is a bad time for you and should Floo again later. Perhaps after you've read the Prophet."
"Maybe you should," Harry murmured, wondering what the hell Malfoy was on about. It could wait, however, until he'd rung the Floo Master and had more wards cast on his Floo.
Malfoy disappeared from his hearth, and the fire settled back down to the normal tones of reds and yellows.
Harry breathed out a sigh of relief and dropped his head to his chest, closing his eyes for a moment. What in Merlin's name was going on? First Hedwig and all the post, now Malfoy was in his fire; what could be next? After the morning he'd had so far, he wasn't quite certain he should ask that question.
Summoning his wand, Harry flicked it at the post lying on the floor, neatly bagging and Banishing the sacks to the attic. He'd deal with them later. At this particular moment, he needed a good strong cup of tea and no more surprises.
Heading out of his bedroom toward the kitchen, Harry was again startled to hear a riot of noise and stopped to stare out the parlour windows. Several reporters stood outside his home, all of them clamouring to get to the window to see inside.
Horrified, Harry slowly began to back-pedal out of the room. They noticed him, and began shouting. Several flash bulbs went off in rapid succession and Harry groaned, covering his face with one hand as his half-naked body was captured for posterity's sake.
"Mr Potter! Mr Potter!"
"Care to comment on the Wizengamot's decision?"
"Have you been contacted by the former inmates?"
"Which one will be pardoned first?"
Harry finally shook off his embarrassment and turned, slipping and sliding on the hardwood floors as he fled the room. He waved his wand behind him, casting a spell to pull the drapes and shutters closed. The noisy, nosy questions from the reporters were silenced just as he escaped to his bedroom.
Closing the door and locking it, Harry threw himself in front of the fireplace and tossed in some Floo Powder, calling out the high security password and Kingsley Shacklebolt's name.
Harry tapped his fingers on the hearth, waiting impatiently for Kingsley to appear. He didn't even allow Kingsley to speak, cutting him off as soon as his green, shiny, bald head coalesced.
"What in the bloody hell is going on? Reporters are banging down my door, Hedwig brought me a tonne of post and bloody Lucius Fucking Malfoy was in my Floo this morning. How is it that my home is now visible to everyone? "
Kingsley grimaced, "Good morning to you too, Harry. Why, yes, it is a lovely day out there," he muttered.
Harry stared at him then frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's too early for sarcasm, Kingsley, and you didn't answer my questions."
"I wasn't expecting a dressing down from one of my recruits, either," Kingsley retorted. "Now, if you think you can calm yourself, then I could tell you what's been going on, but you're not going to like it."
Harry narrowed his eyes at Kingsley. "Really? You think?"
Kingsley chuckled. "Yes, I see you're having a right lovely morning." He took a deep breath and eyed Harry. "Have you read anything in the Prophet today?"
Harry shook his head. "Just one headline and I'm certain that'll explain it all. Give me the short, true version."
Shacklebolt closed his eyes, breathing out a slow deep sigh. "The Wizengamot—in their infinite wisdom—decided to release the Malfoys, the Crabbes, the Goyles, and, despite our best efforts, the Lestranges from Azkaban."
Harry whistled. "What were they thinking?"
Kingsley shook his head. "There's more; the Wizengamot's also invoked *Leges Pacis."
"Let me finish, before you jump the wand." Kingsley glared at Harry. "It's an old contractual bond spell, which places a geis on magic. The geis binds all forms of magic, making it inaccessible to the witch or wizard under influence of the geis, until the designated peacekeeper deems them worthy of having the ability to wield power once more. The magic must be won back honourably and peaceably or the contract is null and void." He finally paused to allow Harry time to digest all that information.
Harry mulled over the information and gasped as the realization of what Kingsley had said sank in. "Oh, bloody hell. They didn't…"
But Kingsley was already nodding, giving him an apologetic look as he spoke. "As the one to defeat Voldemort, Harry Potter is, in the eyes of the Wizengamot, a most trustworthy individual, more than capable of being the Peacekeeper to the former followers of You-Know-Who. His humane methods in bringing about the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and rounding up the remaining followers, showed a truly forgiving and compassionate nature...
Harry stared at Kingsley then cut across him. "One spell and I'm branded for life."
Kingsley chuckled. "Afraid so, Harry. Every one of the witches and wizards I mentioned before has had Leges Pacis cast upon them." He paused, biting his lip before continuing. "There's just one more thing… Snape has been targeted too."
Harry blinked. "Snape? Severus Snape, greasy potions master, double agent and terrorizer of small children. That Snape? Why is he on the list? He's not guilty nor was he a true Death Eater. He was my… our liaison… undercover man of sorts, if you could call it that."
Kingsley shrugged. "I know. I have no idea why, if you'll pardon the pun, he's part of their witch-hunt. I was unable to find out any more information than what I have already told you. My apologies for not getting it to you sooner."
Harry sighed. "It's all right, Kingsley. I guess I'll need to put in for a furlough."
"Already taken care of, Harry. The Wizengamot wants you to focus only on these high profile cases first…"
The doorbell interrupted their conversation and Harry frowned. "Merlin! First my Floo, then the damned reporters showing up; now there's someone at the door. Kingsley, do something about this."
"I'll try, Harry, but as the Peacekeeper you must be accessible to the former prisoners. As I said, an indefinite, temporary leave of absence has already been granted from your training so you may see to this matter."
"Guess that answers my next question of how they found me; the Fidelius Charm is broken." Harry scowled. "Thank you, Kingsley. Hopefully, I won't need too much time with this."
"Good luck, Harry. Come see me once this is over."
Kingsley vanished from the Floo, and Harry got to his feet. The doorbell rang again and Harry shook his head as he made his way to the foyer. "Impatient little bugger, aren't you?"
Pulling the door open, Harry stared at his visitor in shock.
Draco Malfoy stood on the stoop, a smirk masquerading as a smile on his thin lips, his robes draped suggestively on his trim frame. His gossamer hair had been brushed back, tied at the nape of his neck with a ribbon that matched his robes. His pale skin was peachy with health, and the entire ensemble just seemed to enhance Malfoy's features, making him appear more handsome than Harry had remembered.
Although his stay in Azkaban had left its mark, Harry could see that his spirit still lived on in his eyes. Malfoy looked him over as his father had done earlier, and Harry was quite certain this Malfoy was also appraising him.
Stunned into silence, Harry just stood there, letting Malfoy look his fill. He watched with a suspicious fascination as Malfoy's mouth curled up at the corners and his hand came up, sliding along Harry's cheek, caressing his face. Air rushed in Harry's ears and the world narrowed to the point where his skin was connecting him to Malfoy.
Malfoy's lips were moving, yet Harry couldn't comprehend what he was saying due to shock from the unexpected petting. The touch was warm and tender, inviting and welcoming all in the same instant, and he wanted to dive into the sensations. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him with such ease and familiarity. Harry very nearly leaned into the fondling before it dawned on him just exactly who was doing the stroking.
"What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?!" Harry yelled, jumping back and scrubbing at his cheek.
Malfoy's face fell, and he sneered at Harry. He quickly composed himself, glancing over his shoulder, and then turned back to Harry, clearing his throat before answering. "I'm trying to make you an offer, Pot—Mr Potter."
Harry arched an eyebrow. "An offer? You were trying to give yourself to me to gain your magic back? You thought if I fucked you…" he trailed off, imagining the possibilities and paled. "Oh dear Gods… is that really a requirement?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Merlin, Potter, grow up. There's no need to act so prudish. Sex is sex, regardless of the gender. It is used as a bargaining piece in many agreements."
Harry made a face. "Perhaps for you it is, but I'd rather not catch any diseases."
Malfoy's eyes widened, sputtering for a moment. "Are you suggesting that I am unclean?"
Harry leaned against the doorframe. "You said it, not me."
"Why you filthy—"
Malfoy was suddenly silenced when he disappeared from Harry's stoop with a loud crack.
Harry jumped, drawing his wand and looking around for Malfoy. A rolled scroll appeared where Malfoy had been standing and dropped to the ground. Carefully, Harry bent and prodded the vellum. When it didn't burst or curse him, he picked it up, unrolling and reading the message, still glancing around occasionally in expectation of Malfoy's return.
Peacekeeper Harry Potter,
The Wizengamot has been notified that Inmate Draco Malfoy has incurred an infraction under Leges Pacis. Inmates must follow a strict codex when contacting the Peacekeeper, and we apologize for the rudeness of Inmate Draco Malfoy. Due to Inmate Draco Malfoy's inappropriate actions, his freedom has been revoked as a reprimand.
We would like to remind you that the spell does take time to work and to not factor this episode in to your decision about the inmate's progress of rehabilitation.
Once again, we apologize for the slight and thank you for your cooperation in this legal matter.
The missive folded in on itself and vanished in a puff of smoke. Harry looked around the empty street for any of his neighbours that might have been watching. An odd sensation rippled across his skin and he turned, spotting a man at the street corner. Slowly, he aimed his wand at the pedestrian, readying the Memory Charm just in case.
The man walked around the corner with his head down and Harry froze, wand arm half-mast in front of him and stared. With the morning sun glinting off the lamppost, Harry thought that the man turning the corner across the street looked like none other than Severus Snape. He blinked, looking again at the man's black cloak flaring around his feet as he walked.
It had been some time since he'd actually seen Snape, but the man was hardly forgettable, especially with all the history the two had between them.
During the war, Snape had been a double agent, hardly trusted by either side, and yet Harry had followed Professor Dumbledore's request to trust Snape. It had taken some time for Harry to overcome his childhood prejudices against Snape, but when it appeared that the war would continue on indefinitely, information was made available that helped Harry defeat Voldemort. Information that could have only come from someone on Voldemort's side and Harry had known it had come from Snape.
Harry felt a bit of relief as well as a small surge of panic flow through him as he continued to watch the man walk. He couldn't see the person's face but he would know that stride anywhere. It had to be Snape. Tucking his wand behind his ear and pushing his glasses onto his forehead, Harry rubbed his eyes, and then adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose once more.
Time stood still for Harry as he focused on the path, looking for Snape. A flash of black caught his eye, and he turned. His eyes followed the line of the cloak, watching it swoop dramatically with each step until the material stretched across the broad back, and Harry held his breath as the man looked up.
Bright blue eyes in a handsome face stared at Harry, and he felt a bit foolish at having become flustered over the thought of Snape actually coming to him.
The surreal quality of the situation slammed into him, and Harry couldn't quite believe his position in the matter. He bit his lip, trying to contain the almost hysterical laughter that was threatening to break loose.
Just this morning, he had been appointed Peacekeeper, been ogled by Lucius Malfoy, and then propositioned by Malfoy's son. Now he was imagining a former professor staking out and prowling his neighbourhood. Perhaps he'd finally gone round the twist. Harry doubled over, clutching his stomach and chuckling as his control broke. Loud laughter bubbled forth, bringing tears to Harry's eyes.
Wiping away the wet trails from under his glasses, Harry entered his home and slammed the door behind him, unable to keep his laughter from escaping again before the door closed completely.
His neighbours must think him completely barmy now, after everything that had happened since he'd moved into this bungalow. At this particular moment in time, Harry wasn't certain he would disagree with them.