Fic: Sigillum Secreti, NC-17, Draco/Harry/Snape, Part 1 of 2 Title: Sigillum Secreti Author:klynie1Threesome:</b> Draco Malfoy/Severus Snape/Harry Potter Kink/Prompt: Double Penetration/Midnight in the Owlery of Good and Evil (Written for the 2007 pimp_my_3some fest) Rating: NC-17 Warnings: Sexual coercion, violence, major character death (though none of the threesome). A somewhat hopeful ending. Word Count: About 17,000 Summary: In a desperate attempt to defeat Voldemort, Draco Malfoy's life becomes a bond between two enemies: Severus Snape and Harry Potter. Author's Notes and Disclaimer: Deepest thanks to Sansa and Empathic Siren for creating the Pimp My Threesome fest and making it so much fun. Hugs and many thanks to Synn and Loupgarou1750 for being such wonderful betas for me. They're perfect, which means that any remaining mistakes are my own. Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy and all associated characters from the Harry Potter universe are the property of J.K. Rowling and those to whom she has licensed her creations, including without limitation Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No copyright infringement is intended. The author is making no profit from this story.
Sigillum Secreti
Gliding on silent wings, the owl balanced on the wind. The countryside below glowed as if lit by a torch, snow capturing the light of the waning moon. The windows of the owlery – dark to human eyes but secrets bared to an owl's – offered sanctuary from the cold. The owl beat its wings, slowing its rapid descent and then flew through the largest of the windows.
He settled on a cold stone perch trailed with droppings, next to a large white owl.
He heard the other owls' interest in him, the sounds of feathers ruffled as a challenge, the click of beaks sharp with suspicion. The owl next to him sat tense and alert. Yet none attacked him.
He fluffed his feathers against the cold and turned to the snowy owl.
Nearly an hour passed before the owl finally shook out her wings and flew from the owlery. He waited, shifting from one foot to the other. A few minutes later, she flew back in, alighting next to him.
But he'd already heard the crunch of boots on snow. He flew down to the floor of the owlery and transformed. A quick hand through his hair to settle white locks into place and a tug at his cloak, and he was ready. A man loomed in the doorway.
"Potter," Draco Malfoy said.
oxxxo
The meeting was not going well, not that his expectations had been high when he'd agreed to come. Draco was poised to transform in a heartbeat.
"Don't trust him, Harry," Weasley repeated, yet again. As if Potter didn't already know it. Draco rolled his eyes.
"He'd be an idiot if he did," he said, carefully curling his lip into the sneer that he knew Weasley hated the most. "I'm not here because you need to trust me. I'm here because Snape needed a message sent and I was the only one he could trust. It has nothing to do with you."
"He managed to convince Hedwig to come get me," Potter said. "I trust her. But I don't trust any message from Snape."
"I told him you'd say that." Draco smiled, pleased to be proven correct. "So he told me to tell you this: he'll tell you where the Horcruxes are, as well as when they can be gathered and how to destroy them. In return, he wants safe passage from England for us if you actually manage to overthrow the Dark Lord."
"And if I don't?"
Draco let his contempt show. "We're not free, but we're alive and on the winning side, in that case."
"Playing both sides of the fence," Weasley said, his voice disgusted.
Idiot. He'd likely turn out to be wand-fodder at some point. Draco snorted. "I prefer freedom, as does the professor. We're willing to gamble to get it. Besides," he noted with narrowed eyes, "you need us. It would take you years to do what we can help you do in months."
"What if He-Who – Voldemort – finds out what you're doing?"
Trust the Mudblood to ask the question that froze his heart each time he thought it. "We have that taken care of, thanks." He was almost sure that he'd managed to sound as haughty as ever. "You just do what you're told."
"So how do we know that we can trust you?" Potter asked.
"Took you long enough to ask." Draco pulled the parchment Snape had given him from his pocket. "Everything you need to know is written here. Read it quickly – Snape spelled it to turn to ash within five minutes of the time I give it to you."
Potter took the parchment and gave it to Granger, who immediately began to pore over it. "Is that it?"
Draco nodded. "I'll be waiting in the Forbidden Forest for the next three nights. Send your owl with your reply." Without waiting for an answer, he transformed and launched himself from the ground.
A few beats of his wings and he was out of the owlery and high above Hogwarts. The last thing he saw before he lost himself amongst the trees was the flash of moonlight off Potter's glasses.
oxxxo
Snape was waiting for him, a column of darkness deeper than the shadows. Draco landed in front of him and transformed, brushing his clothing clean.
"Did Potter take the note?"
Draco straightened. "Did you think he'd pass up an opportunity to play the hero?"
Snape shook his head. "Inside."
Draco followed Snape into the ramshackle pit he called home. He wrinkled his nose at the pervasive smell of coal smoke, dust and mildew. Why Snape didn't cast some kind of cleaning charms, he'd never understand – the man's quarters at Hogwarts had always seemed, if not pristine, at least respectably clean.
"Sit."
Draco sat in a wingback chair next to the sullen fire. He watched as Snape stood in front of one of the overcrowded bookcases, selecting books and rejecting them until he chose a slim volume bound in delicate leather. He turned and gave the book to Draco.
"I expect that you read the note before you gave it to Potter." Snape sat in a threadbare chair opposite Draco.
Draco nodded. "I saw that you'd spelled it to destruct after a second reading, so I presumed you wanted me to know what was in it."
"Are you familiar with the spell I described?"
"No." He lifted the slim book. "Is it in here?"
"That holds many ancient spells. All of them bind a soul in one way or another, some to death and beyond, others for shorter periods of time. Sigillum Secreti is one of the latter. I'll give you a few moments to read it."
Draco looked at the book he held and opened it. The binding felt cold yet supple against his hands. He skimmed past spells that made him shiver, pausing finally at the one that Snape had indicated. He read.
"'A spell to bind enemies to truth.'" He frowned. "So, you and Potter?"
Snape nodded.
"And someone to act as the Seal. It looks like it's usually a woman – makes sense, since it looks like the enemies have to fuck her at the same time."
"Don't be crude." Snape stood and snatched the book from his hands. "Yes, when it's been implemented in the past, the Seal was always a woman, usually the daughter of one of the men betrothed to the other as a political alliance. That way, both parties had a vested interest in keeping her alive."
Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "But why would you want to bind yourself to Potter so you could tell each other the truth. Unless…" he thought quickly and shook his head. "No. I can't see any way that could benefit the Dark Lord. But," he shrugged, "I'm sure you'll tell me."
"When you need to know," Snape agreed.
"So who's going to be the Seal? Not McGonagall!" Draco's eyes widened. "You asked for her to be there. Are you and Potter going to –?"
"No, you idiot. We'll need her to cast the binding incantation."
"Granger?" Draco grimaced. "She's not much better as a choice, is she?"
Snape shook his head. "It has to be someone that they believe that I won't allow to be harmed."
"You have to. McGonagall will ensure that Potter protects you."
"You can't make me," Draco snarled. "You're not my professor any more."
Snape studied him as he would an interesting potions ingredient. "Nor are you a student. You're a man, now, as much as it pains me to acknowledge that. A man, with a man's obligations."
"Obligations."
"I swore an Unbreakable Vow to your mother, to protect your life."
"You–why would you do that? You thought I'd fail, didn't you!" Draco leapt to his feet. "You bastard! I knew it. Following me around all last year, trying to get me to tell you what I was doing. You just wanted all of the glory for yourself."
"Glory! You little fool. Do you think killing Dumbledore was glorious?" Spittle flew from Snape's lips.
"You've got the Dark Lord's favour, not I." Bitterness filled his heart. "Father is still in Azkaban."
Snape's eyes flickered away, just an instant, but long enough.
"What? What aren't you telling me?" Draco clenched his hands into fists.
Snape looked at him and then looked into the fire. "Your parents…"
"No." Draco collapsed into the chair again. "I don't want to hear this. Just shut up." He pulled his legs to his chest and hugged himself.
Snape sat again, silent.
Tears threatened, but since Potter had cursed him in the girl's lavatory, Draco refused to be that weak ever again. To cope, he shied away from accepting the depth of his loss. Instead, thoughts chased one after the other, trying to make sense out of something that made no sense at all.
Except.
Except. Part of him had known this would happen, had known it at some visceral level ever since his father had been sentenced to Azkaban. Malfoys didn't go to Azkaban, hadn't gone to Azkaban for centuries. Malfoys sent others to Azkaban.
He hugged himself tighter.
Nothing would be the same. His father, the most powerful wizard he'd known, killed at the whim of his Master, who would also kill Draco if he ever found him.
He needed to know.
"Was it…?" He swallowed and ignored the burning in his nose and throat and chest. "Quick?"
Snape said nothing. Inside Draco keened, his grief almost too much to bear at that moment. He wished he knew a spell that could make it all go away, make the past right, bring back his fierce, cold father and his lovely, cold mother, whole and unmarked, looking at him with the approval they would never speak, because Malfoys never spoke of such things.
But unspoken or not, the feelings had been there, and they had been real. Had been his.
Had. Because he was the only Malfoy left.
"Why did He wait so long? It's been months since I…" Since he'd failed. Since he'd signed his parents' death warrants.
"The Dark Lord took Azkaban last night. His plans are nearly complete."
"And me? Does He want me dead, too?" Because if He did, what was he still doing alive? Why hadn't Snape killed him?
"He has spared you thus far," Snape said quietly. "He wants you to know the extent of your failure. He may give you another chance."
Draco glared; it was better than crying. "Don't patronize me. He wants me dead, too." The Dark Lord would destroy the Malfoys, if only to prove that it was in His power to do so. An example for the other purebloods.
Snape again said nothing, his silence confirmation enough. Draco looked away.
The fire burned down to grey embers laced with red hearts pumping below the surface of the coals.
He finally found the courage to whisper, "Why haven't you turned me over to Him?"
Snape sighed. "I don't want you to die."
"You'll give me over to Him quick enough if it's your arse on the line."
Snape stared into the fire. "You're right," he said, eventually. "But not for the reasons you think."
"And what do you think I think your reasons are?" Draco knew he was being petulant, but it was better than feeling completely helpless. A small measure of dignity could still be his.
"Cowardice. Loyalty to Our Lord. Eagerness to be in his good favour."
"You're right." Draco stared at Snape. "So why haven't you handed me over to him?"
Snape met his eyes. "Because. I need to survive, and to survive, I need to have hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, I may be able to get you through this alive."
"And what would that accomplish?"
"Maybe nothing. But you're intelligent. If you get through this alive, you'll have connections, resources to fall back on. Something may come out of it."
Draco sat, silent. "You're not telling me everything." he finally said. "Your little speech about hope is pitiful. I'm insulted you thought I'd buy it for even a moment."
"Ah." Snape stared into the fire. "Well, perhaps it was the Vow I made to your mother."
"You fulfilled that Vow."
"I have an investment in you, boy. You owe me a life debt."
"So you'd keep me alive to be Potter's fuck toy."
"To be Potter's salvation." Snape's eyes glinted in the dark room. "He's a fool. He won't survive without someone who understands the world as it is, not as he wants to see it."
"That's –" Draco glanced around and hissed at Snape. "You'll get us both killed if you say things like that."
"I told you what to tell Potter – we want our freedom. Did you think that was a lie?"
"I thought you just wanted him to think you're going to help him! I didn't know you meant it." Draco felt like unseen eyes were watching him; the hair at the back of his neck stood up.
"Use your head. Under the Dark Lord, we live by His grace, nothing else. We walk under constant threat of torture and death. If Potter should win, we may have a chance to live a life – if not free of fear, at least knowing that our fate is one that may be avoided, with luck and planning."
"I could take this to His Lordship," Draco whispered.
"Not without dying yourself," Snape replied. "You owe me a life debt, Draco. If you cause my death, through action or inaction, you'll share my fate."
Draco chewed his knuckles, weighing his options.
They were non-existent.
"If I betray you, I die. If I stay here, I'll die. If we get caught, we'll die."
"If the Dark Lord falls, we have a chance to live."
Not much of one, especially if they had to rely on Potter. Yet…. "I'm the last Malfoy."
"Then make it count."
Draco met Snape's blazing eyes. "Right." Swallowing and taking a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders. "So, Severus – what's your plan?"
Severus' lip twitched. "To make sure Potter wins, Draco."
The flush that Draco felt didn't seem to be entirely caused by grief and fear. He dropped his eyes and wondered when he had begun to think of Severus Snape as a friend, not just another adult controlling his life.
oxxxo
Draco glanced outside. A splinter of moon sliced a sky rotten with stars. A night for hunting. Or being hunted.
Severus had better be right.
He scratched his stomach, the slide of feathers only a spell away beneath his skin.
A Malfoy never looks down, his father's voice whispered.
He met Severus' eyes with his chin in the air.
"It's time," Severus said.
Draco's mouth went dry. He nodded.
"Draco," Severus seemed to hesitate. "Drink this." He held out a goblet.
The liquid within seemed to reflect the night with a shimmer as from the moon.
Draco frowned. He'd never seen the potion before and though he wracked his mind, he could find no memory of black swirled with silver. He eyed the goblet.
"It's a potion to help you relax," Severus said. "I don't want you fighting with Potter. We can't afford it."
"I won't fight."
"You will." He seemed surer of himself. "This will cause you no discomfort."
"I'm not worried about an upset stomach." Draco searched Severus' eyes, but as always, they gave away no secrets. "What about what you always told us in class? 'Never drink a potion you don't know?'"
Severus' lips twisted. He looked approving. "It's called 'Occultus'. We don't have time for you to research it at the moment, but I assure you it's harmless. Its effects last less than three hours. If we're still with Potter by then, it will be because we're in chains."
Damn. He'd deliberately tried not to think about the possibility of being taken prisoner. He glared at his professor.
Severus sighed. "You must decide. I pledge to you that I will allow no harm to come to you as far as it's in my power to protect us. Will you trust me?"
And that was the crux of the matter. Did he trust Snape? The man had killed Dumbledore for him, true, but he would have died from the Unbreakable Vow if he hadn't, so altruism certainly wasn't his primary motive. No Unbreakable Vow held him now.
But Draco owed him his life. The last thing a wizard should ever allow to happen to him. 'Die first,' his father had told him. 'Malfoys serve no one.'
He gritted his teeth. Lucius should have followed his own advice and stayed away from the Dark Lord.
"Give it to me."
The potion seemed to caress his mouth, silky and sharp with spice and lemon, smoky like the Barolo the house-elves served with steak. He felt his skin tighten; his nipples hardened in response and he shivered as he set the empty goblet on the table.
Severus was right; he did feel more relaxed, yet his mind still seemed sharp and aware. The room focused as it did when he changed into his Animagus form. Shadows hid nothing, their edges vague as spider webs; he could smell the potion and himself and Severus' stale sweat.
He smiled. The meeting with Potter promised to be interesting. He imagined himself cool and calm as Potter raged. Yes, maybe the potion had been a good idea.
Severus' eyes were strangely gentle. "Come," he said. "It's time."
They Disapparated.
oxxxo
The owlery gleamed in the moonlight, illuminating the area around it. Potter, Granger, Weasley and Professor McGonagall stood waiting for them.
Severus put his hand on Draco's arm and they halted.
Potter spoke. "Your note was pretty cryptic. You're lucky we figured out that you meant to meet us here, tonight."
"You have Granger," Severus said. "I had little doubt you'd be here." He nodded to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva."
Draco shivered. Severus' voice had always been deep, but somehow here, in the night with their enemies near, it caressed his spine like velvet.
A wave of arousal flooded him.
"Tell me why I shouldn't call the Ministry immediately," McGonagall said.
"Albus told me to turn to you when I needed it," Severus said quietly.
McGonagall and Severus looked at each other for a moment and then she shook her head. "This spell – is there no other way?"
"Would you trust me without it?"
She sighed. "Probably not."
Draco felt Severus relax the slightest bit and leaned into him. Severus' hand on the small of his back felt good. Very good. He shifted uncomfortably and felt himself being to harden. He flushed.
Severus' hand moved a bit, sliding closer to the curve of his bum.
In an instant, he was hard. He fought it, but heat flared through his body. He tried to ignore it, to focus on the conversation.
Potter was frowning. "I won't risk Hermione as the Seal."
"She was never intended to be."
"Then who –? Not Ron!"
Draco moaned. Everyone looked at him. He leant against Severus, his professor's body hard and tense beneath the soft cushion of his robes.
"What's wrong with him?" Potter sounded almost Slytherin, suspicion sharp in his voice.
Draco tried to muster a glare. "None of your business."
Granger looked worried. "You've given him something, haven't you? Draco's going to be the Seal."
Of course. He bit his lip; the sharp pain only seemed to fuel his impatient lust. The potion. It had to be. How fucking humiliating. "Professor –"
Potter was staring at him in disgust. The prude. "I won't do it."
"I expected as much," Severus sneered. He pulled Draco close to him. "Fine. But you won't find them without my help."
His deep voice entered Draco's body not through his ears, but through his back where they pressed together. He squirmed, but Severus held him tight. He realised the others were looking at him again.
He'd be damned if he'd let Potter think he couldn't handle this.
He stopped struggling; instead, he dropped one hand to direct Severus' increasingly erotic touches and reached back to grab his arse with the other. "I know what I'm getting into," Draco said. "Do you, Potter?"
"I reckon you better do it, Harry." Weasley's voice had deepened since they'd left school just a few months ago.
"Ron…"
"No, really. It's Malfoy. Who cares? As long as it's not one of us."
"But," Potter's gaze flickered down Draco's body and rested on his groin. "I've never –"
Draco knew his aching cock tented his robes. He sneered and arched to show its size. Let Potter deal with it.
"Spare us your virgin blushes, Potter," Severus said. "Will you do it or not?"
"All right then!"
Potter was so predictable. He'd heard the professor use that voice on Potter a million times in Potions; it always made the stupid Gryffindor spark like a Catherine's wheel.
Potter began to take off his clothing. He paused as he unzipped his trousers. "Hermione…"
Granger flushed. "C'mon, Ron," she mumbled.
"But –"
"Ron." Potter was begging.
"Right." Glaring, Weasley allowed Granger to pull him out of the owlery.
Potter glanced at McGonagall and then slowly pushed down his trousers.
Draco had been so engrossed in the little scene playing out in front of him that he hadn't noticed Severus' actions. A wash of cold air made him gasp. He looked down.
His clothes were gone. Behind him, he felt the heat of Severus' naked body pressed along the length of his own. Severus' hand slid down to cup his aching cock.
"Severus," he moaned. Around him, he felt the slice of hundreds of eyes – the owls, watching.
"Shhh. This won't take long," Severus whispered.
Draco pressed against him. "Cold."
A tent materialized around them even as Severus finally allowed him to turn into his warmth. Sweet incense replaced the harsh acidic smell of droppings. Draco nuzzled into Severus' neck, brushing his nose and lips over bristle-rough skin. Sound, movement – he found himself lowered onto a soft surface and looked up to see McGonagall's dismayed face. His eyes slid away before their gazes could meet.
"This is wrong," he heard McGonagall say. "The boy is drugged. I can't –"
"Fine," Severus snarled. He knelt by Draco's side. "I'll take Draco and go back to His Lordship. See you in hell." He clutched Draco's arm and raised his wand.
"No! No," she said. "But isn't there some other way?"
Severus turned to him, black eyes glittering with anger and lust.
"You read the spell. Do you consent to be the Seal?"
He was out of options. He'd simply have to brazen it out. "Just get on with it!"
Severus turned to McGonagall. "I think that's answer enough."
"It isn't and you know it," she said.
Potter was naked; he stood and silently watched them. Draco was gratified to see that his half-hard cock was only average. Stupid uptight wanker. Sex magic wasn't common, but it wasn't unheard of, either. He rubbed his own hard cock against Severus' thigh and reached for Severus' prick. Severus batted his hand away. He bit Severus' neck in retaliation and then licked the impressions his teeth left.
McGonagall shook her head again, but stopped as Potter spoke. "He's right. Let's do it."
"Harry –"
"Let's do it," he repeated firmly and began to stroke his cock. "It's everyone's best chance to get through this damned war alive. He can hate us all he likes for the rest of his life if we get through this." He knelt at Draco's other side, close enough that Draco felt the heat from his body, and glared at Severus. "What do we do?"
"We'll both need to penetrate him simultaneously." Severus looked at McGonagall. "You'll have to do the binding incantation and wand work. I'll prompt Draco at the proper moment. Potter, do you know your part of the incantation?"
Potter nodded. "Do we have to," he waved his hand, "you know – at the same time?"
"The spell will make sure we ejaculate at the proper moment."
Potter's flush turned deeper.
Draco relaxed as Severus stroked his leg, coaxing it up. He abandoned himself entirely to the drug now, eager for Severus' touch.
"Draco." Severus' voice sounded husky.
"Mmm?"
"Once Minerva begins casting the spell, you must listen to me." He waved his wand and Draco felt an emptiness in his bowels, followed by a tingle in his arsehole. "When she has completed the incantation, you must repeat these words: Clavsa secreta tego."
"Clavsa secreta tego," Draco whispered.
"Yes. I'll remind you, but remember the words."
Clavsa secreta tego. He rolled the words over in his mind, but then he felt Severus' fingers stretching him and words fled. So glorious, the long fingers stroking, the big hand holding his leg still, poised between pleasure and restraint. He tried to move, but Severus held him firm.
"Potter, lie down." Draco felt Potter lie down next to him. "Stop looking at me like that. You'll need to penetrate Draco first."
"What d'you mean, 'first'? You don't mean that we're both – No!" Potter scrambled away. "We'll split him in two!"
"Get back here." Severus' voice was harsh, though his hands remained gentle in Draco's body. He pressed something inside and Draco involuntarily arched, eager for more touches – just – there. Yes. Fire flared.
So brilliant. Why hadn't he tried this before?
"Get down here, Potter."
"We don't have much time," McGonagall said. "This is a moon-phase spell. We need to complete the spell at midnight exactly, or we'll have to wait for the next new moon."
"Look, we'll hurt him!"
Severus pressed again and Draco's eyes rolled back in his head. He needed more. Dimly, he heard Severus say, "If we do this right, he'll feel nothing but great pleasure. Lie down, now!"
Potter sank back down by Draco's side. Severus nodded and lowered Draco's leg.
"Draco, you need to straddle Potter."
Draco rolled over and onto Potter. He rubbed against him, rutting into the crease between Potter's thigh and hip. Potter looked up at him, his face flushed with apprehension and lust; behind him, he could feel Severus' hands part the cheeks of his arse. He found himself face to face with Potter, the idiot's damned glasses nearly poking him in the eye.
"Take them off," he ordered.
Potter took off his glasses and tossed them aside. He squinted up at Draco.
Draco started.
"Green," he breathed. "I never noticed." He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. "Very pretty, Potter." He drew his tongue up Potter's bristled throat and over his chin. Potter's eyes widened. Draco's mouth curled into a smirk as he dove for Potter's lips.
Something more substantial than Severus' fingers pierced him. He swallowed Potter's moans with his own. Beneath him, Potter's hips began to move – push, slide – each stroke deeper than the one before. He seemed to gain confidence as he sank into Draco's body. His pace quickened; Draco groaned with pleasure.
He lost himself in the rhythm of the fucking. Potter's chest was sharp and warm beneath his hands. Sweat dripped from his face to Potter's, mixed and ran in small crooked paths, prompting him to lean forward again and lick along the trails, following them down to a small pool of sweat in the hollow of Potter's throat.
A pink nipple beckoned. He covered it with his mouth, nipping and licking. Potter gasped and thrust harder.
Then slippery fingers entered him again, stretching him even more. A heavy weight settled over him. The fingers rolled and scissored exquisitely, pressing against Potter's cock before they withdrew. A hand grasped his hip; he felt another warm, slippery bluntness pushing slowly against his arsehole.
Whimpering, he felt himself stretch impossibly wide to allow the second invasion. "Hurts."
"Just a bit more, you're doing well," Severus panted in his ear. Draco could feel sweat dripping on his back and bit his lip.
"Oh God, oh God," Potter chanted below him. "So tight."
Severus continued to guide his prick in against Potter's. Finally, with a grunt, his hips met Draco's arse.
He was in.
Draco thought he was going to split open. "Wait. Please."
"Angle your hips up, Potter." Severus' voice rasped, his breath hot against Draco's neck. Draco felt a hand on his cock. "More."
The pressure suddenly didn't feel like it was pulling him apart; now it was focused, centred. Severus pushed against him, and Draco gasped, Potter echoing the sound.
"Potter, say it."
"You first," Potter said, his face contorted.
"Fine." Severus thrust again and Draco tried to arch his back to feel the hot length of his body. Severus pushed him down until he was chest to chest with Potter.
"Tibi verum dicam."
Draco moaned as heat built through him. Magic flowed from Severus' prick into his arse and through his blood. His heart raced, but the rush wasn't just physical – something was changing inside him, something much deeper.
"Tibi verum dicam," Potter gasped.
Dimly, Draco could hear McGonagall chanting, and then the second flood of magic overwhelmed him, spreading through his lungs and through his heart and guts. He keened. Magic roared through him, demanded he submit willingly. His prick ached, and he could barely feel Severus' hand pumping him. His balls gathered tight to his body.
"Move!" he ordered, and Severus and Potter obeyed. He rocked forward and back, jarred by the force of their thrusts. He needed more –
"Now, Draco. Say it."
As the words formed in Draco's mind, the magic within him spun together, a maelstrom of power choking him as it gathered in his mouth and prick.
"Clavsa secreta tego!"
He was blind, blind and coming, harder than he remembered ever coming before, his ears full of Severus' moans and his chest vibrating with Potter's choked cries. Power poured out of him and enveloped them all and poured back into him, a firestorm, until he felt each man in his soul, Potter blazing green, Severus burning black, himself a bright white light binding them together. Draco collapsed.
The magic slowly subsided, releasing him bit by bit until his mind and body were his own again.
"No," he choked.
But it was done. Only McGonagall could release him.
His head dropped forward to thump against Potter's heaving chest; he was crushed under Severus' limp form. He felt one prick, then the other, soften and slip out of his aching, abraded arsehole. Severus rolled off him and then Potter pushed him away. He sprawled across the soft pallet and stared at the ceiling of the tent, lost and damned and struggling not to cry.
Potter stared at him. "Malfoy, are you okay?"
"What do you think?" Draco couldn't stop a sob from escaping him. He threw an arm across his eyes. "Fuck."
A robe was draped over him. "Mr Malfoy – I'm…I'm impressed." And sorry, her tone implied, though McGonagall didn't say the words. A small favour, but one Draco appreciated.
Severus murmured a cleaning spell that tingled across Draco's skin. Careful hands tucked the robe around him. "Rest now. Potter and I will talk."
Draco remained silent. He really didn't give a fuck.
Bound. His life debt to Severus had bound him, but he'd never felt the ties, would never feel the ties unless through his actions, Severus lost his life. But this binding – this binding was different.
He could feel the other two men burn inside him. They crowded him out, stealing his magic, enslaving it to their needs.
His soul was no longer his own. It belonged to the other two men. He grieved silently. His life depended on honesty now. Severus' honesty. And Potter's.
He wondered just how long he had to live.
oxxxo
When they returned to Spinner's End, Severus insisted on examining Draco. Lying face-down on his bed, he shivered as Severus massaged ointment into his arsehole, healing tears that he hadn't felt.
But he could still feel Severus and Potter inside himself. Severus smouldered in him, an ember that flared and faded but held the heat of a furnace in its core. Potter burned, a clear flame, never flickering, never fading.
He felt like he couldn't breathe, his own spark smothered by their ashes.
"Draco, are you all right?"
He rolled over and sat up, pulling down his robes and not meeting Severus' eyes. "I'm fine."
"I'm sorry."
Draco barely heard the apology, the words were spoken so quietly. But he felt Severus' burn inside him. "Can you or Potter lie to me?"
"No. Not if we want –"
"Want me to stay alive," Draco finished. "I get it."
"If there was any other way…"
"Would you have done anything differently?" There were probably dozens of other ways to bind Severus and Potter to be truthful with each other, he thought. This one just had the best potential to fuck up his life.
Severus didn't answer, which was answer enough, he supposed.
"The only person you ever remotely heeded was your father," Severus finally said. He unbuttoned his robes and sat in a chair by Draco's bed. "Left alone, without his guidance – you wouldn't survive even your first encounter with the Dark Lord."
"And tell me, Severus," Draco said, "just exactly how is this – spell – supposed to save me from His Lordship?" He glared at the other man.
Severus narrowed his eyes. Draco felt his mind being probed and threw up his Occlumency shields, but Snape slipped past them with ease. With a wrench, he turned his face away and broke eye contact before Severus could examine his memories about the spell.
"You won't be able to do that with His Lordship," Severus said. "He's too powerful a Legilimens. If we don't take precautions, He'll discover our duplicity."
"I'll be able to block Him. It's you I can't –" Too late, Draco tried to stop his words.
"You can't block me." Snape sat back in the chair and stroked his chin. "You've always been able to defend yourself from me to some extent, but you can't now. Perhaps it's because you're now essentially a vessel of truth." He dropped his hand and looked at Draco. "You've never had enough skill to oppose Him. Now He'll rip through your defences as if they're parchment."
Draco tried to swallow, but couldn't. "So you're saying I can't go to Him."
"We've known that all along, Draco." Severus sounded almost gentle. "He hasn't summoned you yet – you and your family haven't been His primary focus."
"He waited for my father and the other Death Eaters to be freed from Azkaban before punishing him and my mother," Draco whispered.
Severus nodded. "He'll want you to suffer that knowledge for a little while longer. But when He does summon you –"
"He'll kill me."
"I think it's a distinct possibility. Which is why binding you to Potter in some manner was necessary. However, it's also a vulnerability – you can't be allowed to be brought before the Dark Lord, because He'll find out about our plan."
"So what precautions do you want me to take?"
"I believe that you need to go to Potter and beg for sanctuary from Him."
Draco scrambled backwards until he pressed against the headboard. "No! I'm not going to Potter!"
"It's safest."
"It's insane. We'll end up killing each other. Besides, if that's what you planned to do all along, why didn't you just leave me with him?"
"He needs time to adjust. Potter isn't the most flexible thinker in the world. Now he should have the proof he needs to assure him of our sincerity. The next step is to allow him to realise the extent of his responsibilities to the bond."
"He's an idiot."
"Granger will bring him around. I've no doubt that she's interrogating him in depth about the ritual and its effects. She'll point out the responsibilities to him. He listens to her."
"Severus." He struggled to cast his words in Slytherin allusions. "I want to stay with you."
His shoulders drooped in defeat. He hadn’t wanted to say it so bluntly. It seemed the bond wouldn't allow him to lie, even obliquely.
He'd have no secrets left by the time McGonagall dissolved the spell. It wasn't fair.
Severus sighed. "Tell me, do you think that's wise?"
"Please don't leave me alone with Potter," he whispered.
"I'll see you when next I meet with Potter."
Draco shook his head. "It's my risk. I want to stay with you."
"Draco –"
"No!" Draco jumped off the bed and began to pace. "I've lost everything! Do you understand? Not just my father and mother, but my life, my freedom and now – this! I don't have anything else to lose, and I'm damned if I stay with Potter when –" he choked, "– when I don't have long. You're the last thing I've got. I want to spend that time with you."
Severus shook his head. "You're upset. I'm not really what you want, or what you need, for that matter. I'm just the most familiar –"
"You're the only one I've ever wanted!" Horrified, Draco collapsed on the bed and buried his face in his hands. "No," he moaned. He turned away as Severus came closer. A hand caressed his hair; he knocked it away and glared. "Don't you fucking pity me!"
"I don't pity you."
"But you don't feel the same way."
Severus shook his head. Draco didn't die, so he knew Severus wasn't lying.
He almost wished he'd died.
"Look," he said, struggling to recover some sort of dignity, "it doesn't matter. It never did. It's this fucking spell – it won't let me act normally."
"Like hiding secrets?" Severus' lip twitched.
"As if you don't," he snapped back. "This isn't normal. This whole situation. Just – just let me stay here. If I have to choose between the Dark Lord killing me here or at Potter's, I'd rather it were here."
Severus looked at him for a moment and then nodded. "All right. You can stay."
Draco raised his chin. "Thank you." He started to unbutton his robes. "It's nearly dawn. I'm going to bed."
He waited for Severus to leave the room.
Severus stood and paused. Draco stopped undressing and looked at him.
Severus' face was guarded. "If you would be willing, I would like to ask to share your bed."
Draco rolled his eyes. "I told you, don't pity me. I'm fine – other than I'm a walking dead man."
"You're not dead yet, idiot boy," Severus said. "And it's not pity. I may not feel the same thing you feel, but I do care for you. We could –" he paused and frowned, "offer comfort to each other."
"Offer comfort? Do you mean fuck like weasels?"
"Must you be so vulgar?"
"Will being vulgar stop you from sleeping with me?"
"No."
"Then yes, I must be so vulgar." He slid to the edge of the bed and stood, grasping Severus' face and devouring his mouth. Severus opened to him immediately.
Kissing him was like falling into a fire that gave no light. Snape's mouth was so deliciously dark, his hands wicked and taunting as he ran them down Draco's body to cup his arse tight. Draco rubbed his hardening prick against Severus', rewarded by an answering hardness rising to his own. They fell to Draco's bed. Clothing fell to the floor until hot, slick skin rubbed together in delicious, wicked ways.
As he lost himself in Severus' kiss, he gradually became aware of a fire growing inside. Not just the sexual burn he'd known since he'd first discovered the joys of sex with others, but something deeper. Foreign.
Severus.
It was Severus. Inside his soul, in the place where he and Potter had lodged since they'd performed Sigillum Secreti.
He must have hesitated, because Severus paused. "We can wait," he murmured. "You must be sore."
A Malfoy always maintains control of a given situation. Lucius' words suddenly echoed in his mind.
He could feel Severus' desire burning inside him. There seemed to be no demarcation between those feelings and his own. Was he even feeling desire or was it all Severus'?
With a sinking heart, he realised that he needed to know the difference. He was a Malfoy. He'd be damned if the spell took any more from him than it already had.
"I can't do this."
Severus withdrew and studied him for a moment, then slipped out of the bed. Panic seized Draco.
"No, wait!" As Severus paused, Draco tried to make sense of his conflicting emotions. "Stay."
Severus looked at him for a moment, then lay back down, pulling the bed coverings over them. Tense and unhappy, Draco lay quietly beside him.
"This is ridiculous," Severus finally said. Rolling over, he pulled Draco close. "Shut up and go to sleep."
"I didn't say anything!"
Severus' disapproving silence spoke volumes. Draco sighed and tried to relax.
Eventually, he began to feel sleepy. Severus seemed to be dozing as well.
"Do you feel different? You know, after the spell?" he whispered, hoping not to be heard.
After a moment, Severus said, "No. Do you?"
Draco closed his eyes, defeated. He wished he could say 'no.'
Silence spoke for him, too.
oxxxo
Weeks passed.
He reread the passage yet again, though he knew it by heart.
Sigillum Secreti muste be performed between Lyte and Dark; Ayr and Earthe; the heartbeate of the Olde Moon dying and the Newe Moon's birthe. Midnight, as Goode and Evil laye themselves Equal wythin the Eagle's Aerye or the Cave's Depths, else Truth shalle not be helde Captyve, and All Will Be Lost in Lyes. Whyle One performs the…
Only a fool would allow himself to be bound by a spell like this, his father's voice told him.
…yntricacyes of Protectiones upon the Enemys to be Bounde, those to be Unyted muste enter the Seale togethere and recite thees fewe wordes: Tibi Verum Dicam – I wille tell you truthe. To whiche the Seal replies: Clavsa secreta tego – I enclose the secretes.
"'I cover the enclosed secrets'," Draco translated to himself. Severus and Potter, secret allies, their honesty to each other tied through him.
He agreed with his father. Only a fool would have submitted to this spell.
Sighing, he put the book down and began to chew his knuckle.
Severus was gone again, called by the Dark Lord. He'd begun to spend much of his time there, wherever 'there' was. Draco wondered if Potter's success with the destruction of the last Horcrux worried the Dark Lord, or for that matter, if He even knew of it.
According to Potter, the locket had been the third Horcrux destroyed to date, leaving three more to be destroyed before Potter could face the Dark Lord. Severus said that there was a prophecy about that, about Potter and the Dark Lord facing each other and one of them dying.
The damned spell didn't say what would happen to him if one or both of the people bound died.
The sharp crack of Apparition brought him to his feet, wand in hand.
Severus burst into the room. He paused, hand gripping the door so tightly that his knuckles were white.
"The Dark Lord wants you; I'm taking you to Potter's now."
"I'll get my…"
"No! There's no time, Draco." He crossed the room in two strides and gripped Draco's arm. "Now."
Severus Apparated them both.
They materialised in the hallway of what was obviously an old, very poorly maintained manor. Draco stumbled forward as Severus pushed him. He caught himself in time to see Potter, Weasley and Granger tumble out of a nearby room, wands drawn.
"Protect him!" Screams drowned the sound of Severus' Disapparation and Draco was left alone, covering his ears and staring at the three people he hated the most in the world.
"Malfoy!" Potter gestured with his wand. "Drop it."
Bewildered by the screaming, Draco realised that he still had his wand in his hand. He frowned and lowered his hands. "Don't be ridiculous, Potter. And what's that hideous screeching?"
Potter gestured and Weasley and Granger lowered their wands. While Potter watched him, they tugged at heavy curtains surrounding the picture of a woman he vaguely recognised from portraits at Malfoy Manor.
"Great-Aunt Walburga?" Draco crossed over to the portrait and blocked Weasley's attempt to pull the curtain closed. He tucked his wand in his waistband. "Is that you? Where am I?"
The screams abruptly stopped. "Who are you? And what are you doing with these Muggle-lovers and half-bloods, if you have Black blood in you?"
"I'm Draco. The son of your niece, Narcissa Mal – Black. Severus brought me here," he said. The old harpy looked half-mad, but he felt an absurd sense of relief knowing he had family in the house, even if it was only a portrait.
"Narcissa's boy? Snape brought you, you said? That traitor! You're just another one of them, aren't you? You're just another blood traitor!" She began screaming again, obscenities laced with the worst sort of derogatory names, ones that cut him to the heart.
He tried to deny her accusations, but couldn't. Horrified, he realised the spell prevented him from doing so. Because if he did, he'd be telling a lie.
He was a blood traitor.
Someone elbowed him aside and the heavy curtains were finally pulled shut, muffling her accusations. He was dragged into a sitting room and pushed down into a chair. A hot mug of tea was thrust at him. He accepted it and stared into its depths, watching the steam roil and dissipate just like every carefully-nurtured belief about himself he'd ever held dear.
"Malfoy!"
He realised Potter had been trying to get his attention. He gathered himself. At least he had enough pride not to allow them to pity him. He looked up, a glare on his face. "What do you want?"
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Draco forced himself to sit, back straight, and put the mug on the table beside him. "You heard Severus. I need protection."
"Pissed off your Death Eater buddies?" Weasley asked. "Don't blame 'em if they want to kill you. No loss to anyone."
"Ron." Granger's voice chastised but held no real censure.
"Is Ron right?"
Draco met Potter's eyes with his chin in the air. "What do you think?"
Potter's eyes narrowed. "I think you're a coward and a liar. How do I know that Snape was telling the truth? What if he put you here to report back to him about our Horcrux hunt?"
"I don't believe you!" Draco shook with rage. The stupid idiot – what did he think Draco was risking his life for, anyway? "What the hell do you think we went through that damned ritual for? He can't lie to you. You can't lie to him. I –" he swallowed the truth that tried to pass his lips and substituted another, "– I'm stuck in the middle."
"He's right, Harry. If Snape lies to you, Draco will die."
Even though he knew they were true, Granger's words – so baldly stated – shocked him. "That's right, Mudblood," he sneered in retaliation.
He felt a flash of triumph at the pain that crossed her face. Then he was sprawled on the floor, Weasley pounding his face. He managed to ward off the worst of the blows, but by the time Potter and Granger had pulled the red-headed menace off him, he could feel an eye swelling shut. His lower lip stung; he wiped it with the back of his hand and wasn't surprised to see blood.
"Quit it, both of you," Potter said, completely ignoring the fact that Weasley was the only homicidal maniac in the room and he'd just been defending himself. Draco pulled himself upright, wiping more blood away from his mouth.
"Just show me a bedroom," he said, his lip curled. "I don't bother you, you don't bother me."
Potter stared at him for a moment, the green eyes that Draco remembered from the spell hidden behind light reflecting off the stupid glasses. Finally he gave a sharp nod. "Fine. Follow me."
He waited expectantly. Draco shot one last look of hatred at Weasley and the Mudblood and then followed. He fumed as he climbed the stairs after Potter. There had to be safer places for Severus to hide him than here. These three fools couldn't protect themselves, much less him.
Potter paused outside a room on the second floor and gestured. "In here."
Draco elbowed past him and looked. "You've got to be kidding."
The room was filthy. Dust covered every surface. The bedding looked as if it would disintegrate at a touch and the musty curtains covering the window moved ominously. Draco suspected they were infested with doxies. A mirror with blackened silvering hung in a dark corner. He eyed the wardrobe suspiciously – it seemed like the perfect place for a boggart to hide.
He turned to Potter. "I'm not staying in there. It's not fit for a dog."
"It's fit for you," Potter said. "If you don't go in voluntarily, I'm more than happy to throw you in and lock the door behind you."
Draco glared again. "Fine," he spat and stalked into the room. Potter shut the door and the room plunged into darkness.
"Lumos." Now that Potter wasn't there, the room felt even more forbidding. He lit the wall sconces; the flames stuttered and gave very little light.
Dredging half-remembered Household Charms learned in Flitwick's useless class, he dealt with the worst of the dirt and transfigured the rotten bedclothes into a semblance of clean coverings. He placed a number of protective spells, warding the door from intruders and the bed from any unpleasant surprises.
When the room was as secure as he could make it, he tried to use the mirror to heal the worst of the damage that Weasley had done to his face.
"Not so pretty now, are you my dear?" the mirror said.
"Mind I don't take a swing at you," he retorted. "I doubt you'd fare any better."
The mirror snorted but remained silent after that.
After healing his wounds, he Evanesco'ed the blood from his clothes and climbed into the bed. He undressed down to his pants and piled his clothes across the foot of the bed. Shivering, he crawled under the blankets.
He pulled a pillow over his head, but he still heard the words.
Blood traitor. Muggle lover. Filth. Consorting with Mudbloods.
Whispered, not in his great-aunt's voice, but in his father's.