
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/659644.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Severus_Snape
  Additional Tags:
      Blanket_Permission
  Stats:
      Published: 2007-12-26 Words: 16892
****** Trappings of Privilege ******
by klynie
Summary
     It's Draco's seventh year at Hogwarts. Carrow wants him. Snape
     doesn't.
Notes
     Written for the 2007 Snaco_Exchange. Thank you to Nishizono for
     creating the Snaco Exchange, Blackdrapes (aka Paragraphs and
     Cruentum) for giving me such a lovely prompt, and most of all to
     Lisa725 and Rakina, who made this story readable. They're both
     perfect, so any remaining errors are my own.
                            Trappings of Privilege


"Severus. Severus, please help me...

The snake crept closer, the soft brush of scales on cloth as death approached.
The acrid smell of urine, a last desperate sob, a bright green flash…

Draco Malfoy woke with a shout, pressed against his headboard, pyjama trousers
damp and sticking to his groin where he'd pissed his fear; his heart felt as if
it would leap out of his chest.

Cursing, he tried to calm his racing heart. Damned snake, damned Muggle Studies
professor, damned – he censored himself before he thought of his Master. He
plucked at his wet pyjamas and then slid out of bed and tore them off, face
flaming.

"Incendio!"

The pyjama trousers disappeared in a burst of flame. He snarled a charm to
freshen the air and shouted for a house elf. The creature popped into the room
and cringed; it was probably the only thing in the Manor more frightened than
him, Draco reflected bitterly. He left it to its work and headed for his
bathroom.

By the time he'd showered, the mattress was clean, the bed linens had been
replaced and the house elf had disappeared. He knotted the belt on his robe and
lay on his pristine bed.

No use trying to sleep again. The Hogwarts Express would be leaving in just a
few hours. Draco looked at his trunks, neatly stacked by his door. It all
looked normal; his room was emptied of his schoolbooks and Quidditch gear in
preparation for the trip to Hogwarts.

He rolled over and took his wand from the nightstand. He immediately felt
safer, though with Fenrir Greyback and the Carrows roaming Malfoy Manor, he
knew any safety was illusory at best. And the damned snake…he shivered, drew
his knees up to his chest and settled in to wait for the sun to rise.

                                    vVvVvVv


Draco ignored Crabbe and Goyle and looked out the window of the Hogwarts
Express. His mother had been circumspect at the station, though he couldn't
fault her caution: Amycus and Alecto Carrow had watched their leave-taking like
hawks. 

He remembered the look in Amycus' eyes and repressed a shudder. Draco silently
vowed to avoid him as much as possible once they reached Hogwarts. Thank Merlin
that the Dark Lord had given Professor Snape the headmaster's job. His father
said the Carrows had asked for it and were furious when Snape received the
honour instead.

Outside the carriage, Draco heard the lady with the sweets trolley. Someone
loomed over him, and he looked up to see Crabbe frowning down at him.

"Give us some money, then."

"What?" Draco frowned in confusion. Crabbe never asked for anything. He knew
that he could only expect to be given whatever Draco chose to grant him. 

"Give us your money, Malfoy."

"You're asking me to give you my money?" Draco glanced at Goyle, who looked
uncomfortable but didn't offer to help him. He looked back at Crabbe. "And why,
pray tell, would I do that?"

Draco didn't see the blow. Suddenly he found himself lying across the seat,
dazed, his face exploding with pain. He put a hand to his mouth and was shocked
to see blood on it when he took it away.

A big hand pushed him deeper into the seat cushion as his pockets were rifled.
Too shocked to squirm, he watched in horror as Crabbe systematically searched
him, emptying Draco's pockets and stuffing the money into his own. Crabbe took
Draco's wand, too.

"What the hell are you doing?" Draco demanded.

"You're pathetic," Crabbe sneered. "My dad says the Dark Lord took your dad's
wand. Not so big now, are you?"

Draco looked around in a panic. "Shut up. Don't talk about things like that
here."

"Why not? Dumbledore is dead. Snape is headmaster. I reckon Hogwarts belongs to
the Dark Lord," Crabbe said.

"Goyle," Draco said, turning to him, "tell Crabbe he's an idiot."

Goyle looked at Crabbe and slowly spoke. "I think you'd better do what Vincent
says, Draco."

Draco sat up, his bloody lip forgotten. "What?"

"Things have changed," Goyle said, still looking at Crabbe.

"I'm hungry," Crabbe said. He stood and sneered at Draco. "Thanks for the
money, Malfoy."

Draco watched Crabbe leave the compartment and elbow his way through the crowd
surrounding the sweets trolley. "Greg?"

"You're not in charge anymore, Draco." Goyle squirmed. 

"Who says?" Draco demanded.

Goyle shrugged. "Everyone knows you messed up killing Dumbledore and that the
Dark Lord took your dad's wand. That Malfoy Manor doesn't belong to you
anymore."

"Malfoy Manor still belongs to us," Draco hissed. "Just because a bunch of --"

"Don't say it," Goyle snapped. Draco's eyes widened as Goyle looked at him,
pleading. "Don't say it, Draco. 'Cause if you do, I'll need to tell someone."

"Holy fuck." Draco slumped in shock. 

The door slammed open and Crabbe entered the compartment, his arms full of
sweets. "Hey, Greg, look what I've got."

Draco watched as, with one last glance at him, Goyle turned his attention to
the sweets. Neither offered him any.

He wiped his bloody mouth again and winced. "Give me my wand."

Mouth full and chocolate staining his lips, Crabbe was slow to answer. "If I
do, you'll hex me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "If I hex you, you'll beat the hell out of me in my
sleep. I'm not an idiot."

Crabbe seemed to consider Draco's answer, then finally shrugged and handed over
the wand. Draco was tempted to hex him anyway, but he decided not to. Instead,
he left the compartment to find the loo so he could clean himself up.

The corridor was empty of other students, which was strange. But, Draco
reflected, hardly anyone had actually been at Platform 9 3/4, either. He
hurried along the corridor to the loo and ducked inside.

It was the work of a moment to heal his lip and Banish the smeared blood. He
straightened his collar and then paused as he glimpsed himself in the mirror.

Dark circles cradled his eyes; his hair looked limp. A line seemed permanently
etched across his brow, deepening as he frowned at his reflection. His grey
eyes were bloodshot and haunted, his expression less wary than skittish. He
shook his head, ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward to examine his
healed mouth.

In the mirror, Amycus Carrow smirked back at him.

Draco whirled, his wand out and aimed at Carrow, who ignored it and closed the
door of the loo behind him. Draco heard the lock click.

"Not so pretty as you were, are you?" Carrow stepped forward, crowding Draco in
the small space. He leered. "But pretty enough, I think."

"I don't know what you mean," Draco lied. 

Carrow pushed Draco's wand aside. "Put that away, boy." He raised his own wand,
a nasty smile on his face. "You won't need it. Not with me." He traced his wand
down Draco's cheek. "I'll need an assistant at Hogwarts. You'll do nicely, I
think."

Fuck, shite, fuck. Draco felt sick. He had no doubt what Carrow was talking
about - he'd overheard his father talking about Carrow's taste for young boys.
He'd just been sure that it would be someone else, someone younger. "I'm a
little old for that, don't you think?" he asked desperately. "I've got my NEWTs
coming up; not much time for extra-curricular work." 

"But you're a Malfoy," Carrow purred. "NEWTs are irrelevant to you."

Draco jumped as the loo door crashed open. 

Headmaster Snape stood in the doorway, a frown on his face. "The younger
students reported the lavatory door seemed to be inexplicably locked. I trust
that nothing untoward has happened. A prank gone wrong, perhaps?"

Carrow's eyes narrowed. "No problems at all, Headmaster. I was merely talking
to young Malfoy about his future." 

"Ah," said Snape, "a conversation that requires the privacy of a train’s
lavatory, I’m sure."

Carrow flushed, anger distorting his features. 

"Draco, I suggest that you return to your carriage," Snape said. Heaving a sigh
of relief, Draco slipped past him. "Mr Carrow, a word," he heard. Draco glanced
back to see the headmaster cast an Imperturbable Charm on the loo door as it
slammed shut behind him.

Ignoring the stares of the students that suddenly filled the corridor, Draco
made his way back to Crabbe and Goyle. He settled in the corner and stared out
the window, oblivious to Crabbe’s contemptuous taunts and Goyle’s troubled
looks.

                                    vVvVvVv


Draco pushed his food around his plate without eating anything. The Great Hall
was barely half-full. Even the Slytherin table was sparsely populated. Goyle
seemed to have made up his mind to follow Crabbe’s lead and actively ignored
Draco.

Around him, half-hearted conversations died. Draco looked up to see Headmaster
Snape standing at his place at the head table, Amycus and Alecto Carrow sitting
at either side. Snape waited until all eyes were firmly fixed on him.

"There will be no foolish calls to unity or demands for loyalty this year, no
genial good wishes for school spirit. Instead, each of you is responsible for
him- or herself. You are here to learn. If someone takes advantage of your
weaknesses, don’t come running to me. You are here to master magic - I expect
no less from any of you.

"For those of you who are in your final year, I say this: Heed your future. You
will be asked to make choices. Do not make the wrong choice, or you will likely
pay for it with your life."

The students remained silent, a stifled sob or two the only sounds. Snape
glared at each table in turn. Like everyone else (even the Gryffindors, he
noted with satisfaction), Draco dropped his eyes under the fierce black gaze.

Seemingly satisfied, Snape continued. "Anyone not achieving the highest of
standards will be sent to my Deputy Headmasters, the Professors Carrow, for
discipline. I trust you will work to keep their duties light."

A collective gasp sounded through the room as Draco’s heart sank. He knew he
had fallen behind in his sixth year; he also had no delusions that he would be
able to overcome his fear for his parents and compensate this year. He imagined
what his first disciplinary session would be like, and shuddered.

"You are excused." 

Students hesitated, then rose and began to leave the Great Hall in groups,
Houses remaining cohesive. Draco caught a glimpse of Professor McGonagall’s
angry face before she was surrounded by Gryffindors. Jaw clenched, he rose and
trailed out after the rest of the Slytherins towards his common room.

"Mr Malfoy." Amycus Carrow’s wheezy giggle sounded close behind him.

Draco froze. He could feel the blood drain from his face. Slowly, he turned to
face Carrow.

"Sir."

"I don’t like your attitude, Malfoy," Carrow said. "I expected you to lead
applause for the headmaster’s speech. There was no applause. I hold you
responsible."

Draco’s eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"You will address me with the proper respect. I expect to hear the word 'sir'
when you speak to me." Carrow glanced around the empty corridor and seemed
satisfied. "My office. Now." He started down the hall, and Draco slowly
followed his squat figure.

As Carrow closed the office door behind him, Draco’s heart beat faster. For the
second time that day, he heard a lock snick into place, leaving him at Carrow’s
non-existent mercy. He knew what was coming.

Carrow circled him. "As I see it, you have two choices. You can become my
assistant." He leered as Draco swallowed, his mouth dry. "Or, you can serve as
an example for the others."

"Sir, my NEWTs," Draco said, weakly. He looked at the floor, avoiding Carrow's
eyes. 

"Pathetic." Carrow smiled and raised his wand. "Imperio!"

A comforting vagueness descended upon Draco. He knew he should be upset and
frightened, knew that if he tried hard enough, he should be able to throw off
the curse, but he couldn't muster the energy to try. It was so much easier to
give in.

"I presume that you've reconsidered my generous offer."

"Of course, sir," he whispered. His voice sounded empty, but he couldn't make
himself care enough to do anything about it.

"Now, tell me how much you look forward to being my assistant."

Draco struggled, but the words flowed smoothly regardless. "I would be honoured
to be your assistant, sir."

"Now, tell me how much you want to have me put my –"

The door to Carrow's office burst open. Filch entered, dragging Longbottom and
the Weasley bitch in by the ears. Snape came in after him, arms crossed and
wand out.

"Your first projects," he announced, and then seemed to see Draco. "Or perhaps
not. Mr Malfoy?"

"Yes, Headmaster Snape, sir," Draco said politely. "Professor Carrow asked me
to meet him here. I'm going to be his assistant."

Snape's voice was cold. "Imperius. Could you be more obvious, Carrow? Release
him now."

Curling his lip, Carrow said, "Finite Incantatem."

Draco's head cleared, and he looked around. 

Weasley looked contemptuous, but Longbottom was looking at him in horror and
sympathy. Draco sneered at him. How dare the fat tub of lard pity him? He hoped
that Carrow had some particularly nasty plans for the two Gryffindors.

"The Unforgivables must be kept to a minimum, you remember what we were told,"
Snape said. The last words contained a world of threat. "And you, Mr Malfoy,"
he whirled to face Draco. "Only the weak of mind are influenced by the Imperius
Curse. You're to return to your common room immediately."

Face blazing and resentful of the relief he felt, Draco left the office as
quickly as he could, keeping his head down. Safe again.

For the moment.

                                    vVvVvVv


Draco took a deep breath and knocked at the headmaster's door. It swung open.

Snape had claimed Dumbledore's office. It was at the top of a tower, but it
looked remarkably like Snape's former offices in the dungeons. Draco relaxed
immediately, surrounded by walls of books and jars and the smell of pickling
solution. Light fell from a large window, but it was dimmed, as if a shroud
were thrown over it even though there were no window hangings. In a corner, a
perch gathered dust. The only truly obvious difference was the proliferation of
portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses hung on every bit of
available wall space. 

Draco avoided looking at Dumbledore's portrait on the wall behind Snape, who
sat behind a massive desk nearly as large as the one in his father's study. He
looked up as Draco entered and then continued to write.

"Well? I'm quite busy running a school filled with dunderheads and idiots. What
do you want?" 

"Sir, that's actually what I came to talk to you about," Draco began.

"What? Dunderheads? Or idiots?"

Ignoring Snape's sarcasm, Draco continued. "It seems to me that having an
assistant to help you with your work might make your task easier, sir."

Snape put down his quill and looked at Draco. "I take it that you're here to
offer me your assistance."

"I would be honoured to help in any way I could, sir." Draco met Snape's eyes.

"In return for protection from Carrow, I imagine." Snape picked up his quill
and dipped it into the ink well. "As undoubtedly intelligent and disgustingly
attractive as you are, I hardly need either attribute enough to incur
additional enmity from my deputy headmasters. I fear I must turn down your kind
offer," he snapped, beginning to write again. "You may leave."

"Sir..." Draco said desperately. Snape continued to write.

Draco turned and slowly walked out the door.

                                    vVvVvVv


The Owlery smelled of ammonia and dust, but it offered a peaceful sanctuary.
Draco spread his cloak on the ledge of one of the great windows, then sat on it
and leaned against the casing.

His situation was hopeless. He couldn't go back to the Manor or his parents
would pay the price for his failure. For that matter, he couldn't leave
Hogwarts at all unless he was willing to sacrifice them, and that was out of
the question. Greg and Vincent were – well, if not exactly his enemies, they
certainly weren't his friends. No other students would be willing to stand up
for him, no matter how much he paid them, not when Carrow would make it very
clear what would happen to anyone who came between him and something he wanted.
Draco shivered.

And Snape. Draco couldn't fault the man for turning him away. The Carrows were
snapping at Snape's heels, never mind that he had to answer to the Dark Lord
for everything that went on at Hogwarts. 

Really, there didn't seem to be anything for it. He'd have to submit to Carrow.
Though the thought of sex with Carrow made him nauseous, he knew that
occasionally one had to use one's body as currency, so he could resign himself
to that if necessary.

No, it was the thought of the pain that would doubtless be a part of the sex
that terrified him.

Draco hugged himself tight. Vain or not, he hoped he'd come through the
experience with his looks intact.

He refused to consider that he'd be lucky to survive at all.

                                    vVvVvVv


"Malfoy. You stay."

Draco felt numb. He watched as the other students hurried out the door of the
Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. There was no hope of a last minute
rescue; the Slytherins and Ravenclaws in the class understood the consequences
well and wouldn't act like some Gryffindor fool might. He could see many of
them glance at him as he slowly packed his books into his bag.

The door closed behind the last student.

"Leave that. Come here."

He straightened his shoulders and walked up to Carrow's desk.

"I've given you two chances. There will be no more," Carrow said.

Draco nodded.

"You'll report to my quarters tonight after dinner."

Draco nodded again.

"Now get out."

Draco felt like he was sleepwalking as he picked up his book bag and left the
room.

The rest of his classes passed like a blur.

When he'd made his decision the day before, he'd spent the evening brewing a
Numbing Potion. Draco hoped it would be strong enough. Maybe he could steal a
Calming Draught from the hospital wing before dinner, too.

But events conspired against him, and Crabbe accosted him outside of Potions,
seeming to take delight in pushing Draco around and sneering at him, with Goyle
watching stoically. They'd 'escorted' him to the Great Hall, so he hadn't even
had the time to pick up the Numbing Potion. Draco found himself pushing food
listlessly across his plate and waiting in agony for the headmaster to dismiss
them for the evening. 

Snape stood and the Great Hall fell silent. "You are excused."

Draco pushed his plate away and stood. He blindly stumbled through the hallways
until he reached the section of the dungeons where the Carrows were quartered.

Before he could knock, the door opened.

"Come in, Mr Malfoy," Alecto Carrow said, a cruel smile on her face. "My
brother is waiting."

Draco entered, his eyes trained downward. He silently followed her through the
sitting room, walking slower and slower, not surprised to see that she
continued through a door on the other side of the room. 

He paused at the doorway, unable to take another step forward.

Alecto crossed the room to sit on the bed next to her brother. She ran her
stubby fingers through his hair. They shared a nasty smile and turned to Draco.

"Both of you?" Draco whispered.

"My sister likes to watch," Carrow said. "Get over here, boy."

Draco couldn't make himself move. His breath came short and fast; he felt
dizzy. 

Carrow's smile turned into a snarl. He stood and stalked across the room,
grabbed Draco's robes and dragged him to the bed. He pushed him down.

Draco panicked. He struggled to his feet and bolted for the doorway. He didn't
make it.

"Crucio!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

The Carrows' voices blended together in fury. Draco stiffened in the clutch of
the two curses, pain shrilling through his paralyzed body. Dimly, he heard
himself screaming as he fell. 

A sudden pain in his head overrode all the others and darkness overtook him.

                                    vVvVvVv


He woke up in the infirmary. 

The windows were dark, so he reasoned that it must still be the same night. He
tried to sit up and winced. His body tingled, the nerves fresh with the memory
of the curses. There was a strange ache in his temple.

Madam Pomfrey bustled over to the bed. "Awake, are we? I confess that I'm a bit
surprised, Mr Malfoy. Tripping in a perfectly empty corridor? You're lucky Mr
Filch found you before you lay there bleeding all night."

The last thing Draco remembered was being cursed by the Carrows. Had they
dragged him out of their quarters and left him to be found in a corridor
somewhere? "I don't really remember," he hedged.

"Not surprising. You had quite a lump on your head. Now, I want you to remain
here for the rest of the night."

Draco lay back. Though he didn't particularly want to stay in the hospital
wing, he couldn't deny that it would probably be safer to stay put for the rest
of the night. Maybe he could actually sleep, at least for a bit. He pulled the
blanket higher.

"Oh, and I'm to pass on a message from the headmaster – he's asked to see you
tomorrow evening, after dinner." Madam Pomfrey walked away, the candles dousing
in her wake.

Draco felt queasy. Snape would be furious. He'd have to make sure that he
concocted a convincing story, though Snape had the uncanny ability to sniff out
lies, even the ones that weren't overly elaborate. He hoped that the headmaster
would have time to calm down before he saw him.

He turned over on his side and resigned himself to another sleepless night.

                                    vVvVvVv


Draco felt like screaming. The meeting with Snape wasn't going well at all. It
was doubly humiliating that the portraits all stared avidly, witnesses to his
humiliation.

"I can't help how I look or what family I was born to," Draco said. Whatever
else he'd imagined, he never dreamed that Snape would attack him on those
points.

"Then you need to be strong enough to take care of yourself," Snape said, a
sneer on his face. "Not some pathetic weakling dependent on others to do his
thinking for him."

"I'm not weak!" 

"You are." Snape leaned over his desk. "You're weak, you're vulnerable and
you're ripe for the picking. I'm ashamed of you. You're a Slytherin! There
shouldn't be any situation that you can't turn to your advantage. Yet here you
are, mewling to me about needing protection."

"I didn't say anything about needing protection," Draco protested. "I know what
I have to do. I'm ready to do it."

"Which is why you ran away and knocked yourself unconscious in the process."

Draco bit his tongue to keep from shouting out his justifications. It wouldn't
do to lose his head. He shrugged instead, determined to look competent. "He'll
get tired of me after a while."

"You had better pray that he doesn't," Snape said. He sat back in his chair, a
look of distaste on his face. "As long as you entertain him, he won't hurt you
badly enough to permanently disable you." 

"Well, it's not like I have many choices, is it?" he snapped. "Don't you think
I'd fuck even that old bat McGonagall if I thought she'd protect me from
Carrow?"

"I'll try to wipe that particular image from my mind," Snape said coldly.
"You're intelligent. What are your options?"

"Realistically?" Draco asked bitterly. "You or McGonagall. That's it."

Snape fell silent. 

Draco was encouraged. Maybe he could offer an incentive – sex with Snape
wouldn't be anywhere nearly as horrible as it would be with Carrow. He waited
for a moment and then said, "I would make a good assistant, Professor. I'm
intelligent, I'm ambitious, and I have enough money to provide whatever
luxuries you may want. And I'm attractive. You've said so yourself."

"What would make you think that I could help you in that way?" Snape asked. 

Imagining how Snape would react to, 'Sir, I'm desperate,' or 'I'd rather you
than Carrow,' Draco straightened his shoulders and said quietly, "I've seen how
you look at me, sir."

"Are you accusing me of impropriety?" Candles flared around the room, and
several portraits murmured.

"Far from it." Draco raised his chin. "I'm simply saying that you have the
excellent taste to admire a Malfoy."

Snape's eyes narrowed, but the high colour that had momentarily touched his
cheekbones receded. "And you would reward me for that admiration by offering me
use of your body? To do with as I please?"

He'd need to bluff his way through this part. With luck, Snape wouldn't notice.
"It's mine to offer. Is there something wrong with that?"

"There are many things wrong with that, Mr Malfoy. For instance, there is the
ethical issue of you being a student, and I, your headmaster. Or perhaps I
would leave myself open to accusations of nepotism, since you are my closest
friend's son and I would be doing you favours I wouldn't offer to others."

Draco doubted that Snape would actually offer these particular favours to
another student regardless, but he bit his tongue and stood still as Snape
stood and walked around him. Draco could feel the man's eyes on his arse. It
was strangely sexy.

He started as soft hair brushed his cheek.

"But perhaps the greatest wrong in the situation is that you are negotiating
from a position of weakness." The quiet voice was deeper – a seductive, dark
velvet breath ghosting across the sensitive skin of his neck. "That allows me
to name terms far more advantageous to me than to you."

"And they would be...?" Despite his care, his voice wavered on the last word.

"Absolute. Control." 

Draco swallowed. "Right."

"That means, Mr Malfoy," Snape said, yanking him around by his collar, "that
you will do whatever I tell you to do without argument and without hesitation.
It also means that you will not, under any circumstances, violate my
confidence, either in actions or in words."

"I can do that."

"I greatly doubt it." Snape released him. "No, as attractive as your offer is,
I do not think it would be wise for me to accept it."

"Damn you," Draco snapped. "What can I do to convince you that I'll keep your
secrets?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Arguing with me will hardly help."

"Severus..."

"Shut up, old man," Snape replied to Dumbledore's portrait without taking his
eyes from Draco's. "I'm headmaster now."

Dumbledore fell silent.

"Absolute control," Draco repeated. He tried to think how he could demonstrate
his complete subservience.

Snape nodded, and the light in his eyes reminded Draco of banked coals. 

With as much grace as he could muster, Draco dropped to his knees and took
Snape's hand, pressing his lips to the back of it. "I promise, on my honour and
the riches of my family, that I will serve you without question and will not
betray your secrets to others," he whispered against Snape's skin.

"Very pretty." Snape's voice dripped with disdain, but he did not pull back, so
Draco knew he had a chance. Slowly, he kissed Snape's hand again, lingering
over the sharp knuckles, nuzzling the coarse, dark hairs that led upwards to
disappear under a starched white cuff. It wasn't as hard as he'd feared it
would be. He might even be able to get hard for Snape.

Snape turned his hand over. Draco looked up and caught a glimpse of undisguised
lust on Snape's face, a fleeting heat that disappeared as soon as Snape noticed
his gaze.

But regardless, he had seen it. Encouraged, Draco leaned forward, licked his
lips, and then pressed them to the palm of Snape's hand. With mouth slightly
open, he trailed his tongue slowly along Snape's lifeline, then sucked Snape's
forefinger into his mouth. The callused tip scratched against the soft surface
inside his cheek. Snape inserted another finger and began to move them in and
out of Draco's mouth, crooking them to dig deep into his cheek, and then
smoothing the hurt with firm strokes. He tasted of lemon and blood and mint.
Draco closed his eyes and licked and sucked the fingers, trying to get every
bit of the unexpectedly seductive flavour.

Snape withdrew his fingers. Draco's heart sank. Then, Snape caught his chin and
held him fast. A moment later, Draco had to fight to hide his triumph when
Snape took his wand out and cast an Imperturbable Charm on the office door.

"Have you done this before?" Snape's voice was hoarse.

Draco's eyes dropped to Snape's groin, where his robes tented just a few inches
from Draco's face. He decided to bluff. After all, Pansy had blown him a few
times. He was sure he could reproduce her skills with a fate as Carrow's
assistant hanging in the balance. He glanced up in what he hoped was a
provocative way.

"I've lived in the Slytherin dorms for seven years, sir," he said. "Surely you
remember what that was like?"

Snape studied him. "I don't like my sex neat. Don't swallow your saliva; allow
it to drip from your mouth instead. And I prefer a man who has a rougher chin.
You will not use a Depilatory Charm at night before you come to my office."

Surprised by Snape's words, Draco's arousal flared. Saliva flooded his mouth
even as blood filled his cock. He took Snape's hand from his chin and slowly
fed the fingers back into his mouth. Obediently, he allowed spit to escape his
mouth and drip down his chin.

Snape's voice deepened. "I'm particularly sensitive where my foreskin meets the
bottom of my glans. Do not over-stimulate that area when my cock is in the
front of your mouth. I particularly like to feel my cock hit the back of a
man's throat, so I expect you to control your gag reflex." His hand brushed
over Draco's hair. "I look forward to fucking your pretty mouth, Mr Malfoy."

Draco groaned around Snape's fingers and pushed the heel of his palm hard
against his stiff prick. He was sure he remembered the charm that Pansy used so
that she wouldn't need to breathe while she sucked him.

"None of that." Snape withdrew his fingers. "You are not allowed to touch
yourself unless I give you permission to do so."

Far from being insulted, Draco found Snape's instructions sent a thrill down
his spine. He stopped rubbing his prick.

Snape nodded and slipped out of his robe. "You may open my trousers and take me
out."

Draco slowly unbuttoned Snape's trousers and glanced up. Snape watched him, his
dark eyes narrowed and his pale cheeks flushed with high colour, so Draco
carefully spread the placket of the trousers. He dropped his eyes and looked at
Snape's cock.

The head seemed huge, outlined clearly against the fabric of Snape's pants, a
wet spot dark on the cotton. Draco could smell Snape's arousal, a pungent,
exciting smell that made his mouth water more.

"Put your mouth on me," Snape said. When Draco started to pull his waistband
down, Snape stopped him. "No. Through the cloth. I want you to taste me, make
my pants wet."

Draco leaned forward, holding Snape's thighs for support. He glanced up one
last time and then looked at the cock in front of him. He could see it move, a
throb as it grew harder under his gaze. He placed his mouth on it.

The heat that radiated from the other man's cock intoxicated Draco, as did the
salty bitterness of the wet spot. Soaking the cotton with his saliva, Draco
found himself moving closer to get a better angle in order to suck the wet
cloth clean. He nudged Snape's cock with his nose, rubbing it up and down the
hard length, until he was rewarded by more of the wonderful taste leaking from
the tip and seeping through the cloth.

He felt Snape grip his shoulders and braced himself to take Snape's weight.
Burying his face in Snape's groin, he stretched the cloth of the pants until he
could take the head into his mouth. He sucked hard.

Above him, Snape groaned. "Enough."

Draco reluctantly released his prize and waited for his next command.

"Strip."

He stood and slipped his robes off his shoulders. Once he'd removed all of his
clothing, he straightened, confident of his attractiveness. His cock bobbed.

"I see the dittany worked," Snape murmured. "The scars are barely noticeable."

"You made sure of that, sir," Draco replied, reminded of the debt he owed
Snape. Well, he'd just have to add this assistantship to the list, he supposed.
Meanwhile, there was something quite exciting about standing naked in the
headmaster's office while Snape stood before him, still fully clothed, his
stiff prick tenting his pants.

Snape returned to his desk, pushed the chair back, and sat. Draco followed and
stood before him.

"Conjure a pillow," Snape said. So Draco conjured a soft green pillow threaded
with gold, the fringe thick around the edges. Snape nodded his approval. "Place
it in front of me and kneel."

Draco did as he was told.

"Touch yourself," Snape said. "I want to see your nipples swollen and red."

Draco ran his hands over his body, following the trail of hair that started at
his navel to push down on his cock. When he released it, it sprang back up. He
was gratified to see Snape lick his lips and pull down the waistband of his
pants to release his cock.

Draco licked his fingers and rubbed them over his nipples, absently pinching
and pulling the nubs. Good as it felt, though, he couldn't take his eyes from
Snape's prick. It rose, red and angry, from a thick thatch of hair that
disappeared under Snape's shirt. The head was purple with blood. A drop of pre-
come formed on its tip as Snape slowly stroked himself. Draco licked his lips
and pinched harder, thinking of the flavour he had tasted just a few minutes
before, eager to taste it again.

"Come here," Snape said. Draco stopped playing with his nipples and shuffled
closer. "Between my knees." Snape pulled Draco's head to his groin.

Draco groaned. The smell of Snape's arousal surrounded him. He leaned down to
lick the drop of liquid from the tip of Snape's cock, and the salty flavour
burst across his tongue. He grabbed Snape's thighs to steady himself and licked
a stripe up the underside of the big cock.

"Yes," Snape hissed. "Open your mouth."

The moment that Draco did, Snape thrust up, holding Draco's head so that he
couldn't move back. Draco stretched his mouth as wide as he could and
immediately gagged as Snape's cock hit the back of his throat.

Snape pulled back. "I told you –"

"I know," Draco interrupted quickly. "You took me by surprise. Can I use my
wand?"

Snape paused before he nodded. Draco quickly cast the charm that he'd heard
Pansy use and then leaned forward once again.

This time when Snape thrust in, he relaxed his throat completely and
concentrated on making his mouth as hot and wet as possible. Snape grunted in
approval and began moving his cock in and out of Draco's mouth. Draco wrapped
his tongue around the length, used his lips to press hard around the base, and
turned his head so that Snape's cock rubbed against the inside of his cheeks.
Snape's thrusts came faster.

Draco started getting dizzy and he realized the charm was wearing off. He
needed to make Snape come, so he stopped leaning on Snape's thighs, trusting
Snape's grip to keep his head in place, and reached into Snape's pants to cup
his balls. They were huge, nearly as large as Snape's cock. He rolled them
around in his hand, tugging on them occasionally.

Suddenly Snape pushed his head down until his nose was buried in Snape's pubic
hair. Snape's hips snapped twice before he stiffened, pumping come into Draco's
mouth. Draco reflexively swallowed some of the bitter stuff, which didn't taste
nearly as good as the pre-come had, but the rest of it dripped out of his
mouth.

When Snape finally released him, he sat on his heels and gulped air. His own
prick was hard enough to beat a Bludger.

Snape looked amused and hungry in equal measure. "You look thoroughly
corrupted."

"Yes, sir," Draco panted.

"Straddle my lap."

Draco stood on shaky legs and gingerly lowered himself into Snape's lap.
Snape's hand closed around his cock, and he groaned, thrusting into Snape's
grip.

Snape smiled and began to pull, twisting his wrist at the end of every stroke.
It hurt; Snape hadn't used any lubrication, but after a few strokes Draco could
care less. The rough friction was wonderful. A burning started in the soles of
his feet and sped upwards.

"Ah," Draco gasped. "Fuck!" He spurted semen all over Snape's hand and chest,
thick white drops that shone like pearls in the candlelight. He dropped forward
against Snape's chest and tried to catch his breath.

"You have yourself a job, Mr Malfoy." Snape's voice rumbled against his ear.

Draco smiled. "Yes, sir."

                                    vVvVvVv


Circumstances improved immediately. Snape made it known that he'd employed
Draco as his assistant, and Crabbe and Goyle quickly fell back into their
accustomed roles as his lackeys, though Draco caught Crabbe glaring at him in
anger on more than one occasion. 

Carrow avoided him, seeming to content himself with sneering at Draco during
Defence class.

An unexpected perk literally fell into his lap. Relaxed after a particularly
long blow job that left Draco's jaw aching, Snape off-handedly remarked that
Quidditch would be cancelled, as he had too many other duties to waste his time
on children's games. Draco pounced on the opportunity, and within a week, had
arranged for team try-outs in all of the Houses. Using Snape's authority to
exclude a few key opponents from the try-outs, he happily made himself both
Captain and Seeker for the Slytherin team and spent a few enjoyable hours
scheduling matches in such a way as to give Slytherin the advantage in every
game.

Other than that bright spot in his schedule, though, Draco wasn't surprised
when Snape made sure that the rest of his time was spent in completing endless
reports and supervising dreary and sometimes tear-filled Hufflepuff and
Ravenclaw detentions. The second desk that Snape had ordered to be installed in
the headmaster's office for Draco was always piled high with work. 

Every evening, after several hours of post-dinner dictation, he and Snape would
have sex. Intense, mind-blowing sex.

One evening, when Snape had been called out to a meeting with the Governors,
Draco ignored the stacks of work waiting for his attention and mused about his
situation.

Yes, there was plenty to resent in the situation – Snape truly could be a
bastard – but Draco was sleeping at night and finally felt somewhat safe. The
administrative work was neither worse nor better than he'd expected. And on the
plus side, he'd nearly guaranteed that Slytherin would win the House Cup while
he was team captain. He smiled at the thought.

And the sex was great. Draco loved the feeling of someone else being in control
and eagerly anticipated Snape's sharp and inventive orders. Pansy would
probably sneer that he was simply so used to people taking care of him and
holding him to impossible standards that he'd developed a complex, but he was
sure it actually had more to do with the pride he felt in his ability to fulfil
those expectations and claim his just dues.

Which Snape gave to him. Every climax he had at Snape's hands left him weak and
gasping. And sucking cock was surprisingly sexy – he hadn't realised just how
much control he could assert from between a man's legs. The rush of power he
felt during the act went straight to his cock. 

                                    vVvVvVv


More and more often lately he'd caught Snape looking at his arse, so he
intentionally began to work without wearing his robes. Huge as Snape's cock
was, Draco was curious to see whether riding it would give him additional power
when they were having sex. Regardless, Snape was definitely a more exciting
partner than Pansy or any of the other Slytherin girls had been.

He looked at the pile of work in front of him and sighed. He'd be lucky if he'd
get a Snape-induced orgasm tonight. The headmaster had said that he'd be late.

He'd also said that Draco would have to have his desk cleared of all work by
the time he returned or there would beconsequences. Draco didn't want to think
of those, so he picked up his pen again and started to copy the list of
detentions and infractions from Filch's spidery scrawl into the official
records. Longbottom, again. The Gryffindor's name was becoming a regular entry
in the detention logs.

Suddenly the office went dark. Draco gasped. He jumped when Dumbledore's
portrait whispered, ''Hide, Mr Malfoy."

Acting instinctively, Draco dropped to the floor and slipped behind a bookcase.

The door to the hallway opened, allowing in a crack of light. A far cry from
Snape's stalking entrance. Draco tried to make himself smaller.

A lit wand preceded two forms that snuck through the door. Briefly, before the
door shut behind them, the light from the hall showed two squat bodies.

"Is the brat here?" Amycus Carrow's voice was low and hoarse.

"Doesn't look like it," his sister replied. "The office is dark."

"Suits me. Snape won't be back until late. When we're finished here, we can
take a little tour of the Slytherin common room and see if we can scare him
up." Both siblings giggled at the pun.

They paused at Snape's desk. "Check the portraits," Alecto hissed.

The Lumos Charm burned a bit brighter. Draco could see the portraits on the
wall, slumbering in various uncomfortable positions. Soft snores could be
heard. 

"All asleep. Who'd've thought portraits needed sleep?"

"Habit. Too stupid to do things different from when they were alive," said
Alecto. "Open the top drawer, where he keeps his forms."

"Right." Draco heard the soft scrape of the wooden drawer opening. "There we
go."

"Careful! We don't want to set it off." 

"I know that! Don't jostle me!"

"I'm not jostling!"

"There." Draco heard the drawer close. "It's set."

"Too bad we can't be here to see what happens." The twins giggled again.

"C'mon. Let's find that Malfoy brat and have some fun."

The Carrows crossed the office. "You won't be headmaster forever, Snape. I
promise you that," Amycus whispered. The door closed behind them.

Draco remained crouched for several frantic heartbeats before the candles
flared back to life. He cautiously crept out from behind the bookcase and
walked over to Snape's desk.

"They've set a trap," he said.

"Yes," Dumbledore's portrait agreed. "I'm afraid they hold little love for
Severus. We'll need to warn him when he returns."

"Wait a second." Draco looked at Dumbledore's portrait with narrowed eyes. "Why
would you want to help Snape? He's the one who killed you."

Dumbledore's eyebrows climbed. "My dear boy, surely you know that, as former
headmasters, we're bound support the current headmaster. I must protect
Severus, regardless of what happened in my life." 

Several of the other portraits nodded or murmured their agreement. Draco
vaguely remembered his father talking about something similar once, so he
decided to go along with the statement for the moment. "Fine. I believe you.
But the device – do you know what it is? Can I disarm it before he gets back?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I think you should leave it alone. Severus knows
the dangers he faces. I'll warn him when he returns; I'm sure he'll disarm it,
whatever it is. It would behove you to emulate his caution, in fact."

"I'm safe enough these days," Draco said.

"So long as you're under Severus' protection. But if something should happen to
him, you would find yourself defenceless yet again."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"Hogwarts is not safe."

Draco remained silent. As much as Dumbledore's words infuriated him, he knew
they were true. As a Slytherin, he really should have an alternate plan. He
just couldn't think of one.

That meant that he was committed to the one he'd already set in motion.

                                    vVvVvVv


"Malfoy. Malfoy, wake up."

Draco squinted up into Snape's face, momentarily confused. "How'd you get into
the dorms, sir?"

"You aren't in the dorms. You fell asleep at your desk."

"Fell asleep – oh!" Draco sprang up, ignoring the aches in his muscles from
sitting on the hard chair for hours. "The Carrows! They've set a trap for you."

"So I've been informed," Snape said. "Now, if you'll kindly leave, I'll disarm
it."

Draco started for the door and then stopped. "No. Actually, sir, I think it
would be best if I stayed."

"You fool. Get out, now."

Draco stubbornly held his ground. "It's important to me that nothing happens to
you. If you make a mistake, you'll be more likely to recover if I'm here to
give you first aid and take you to the hospital wing immediately."

"Quite the hero," Snape said, sneering.

"Protecting my own arse, sir," Draco said. "Don't worry, I'm not an idiot. I'll
shelter behind the bookshelves."

"Fine. It's your neck." Snape whirled and approached the desk. 

Draco hurried behind the bookcase again. He watched as Snape opened the drawer;
Dumbledore was peering into the desk, too.

"I don't see what it could be. There's nothing different."

"It must be small. They weren't carrying anything that I noticed," Dumbledore
replied. "Really, Severus, you should secure your office better."

Snape glanced in Draco's direction and then turned his attention back to the
drawer. "I could make it a fortress, and I'd still be vulnerable. A secure
office would merely invite attempts to be made elsewhere. The ink bottle, do
you think?"

"Most likely."

Snape cast a spell that sounded Dark to Draco, and the ink bottle glowed. "Yes.
Incendiary, it appears." He cast another spell and a sphere of glass surrounded
the bottle. "That should contain it."

"You'll have to destroy it at the earliest possible opportunity."

Snape nodded and turned towards Draco. "You can stop cowering now, Mr Malfoy."

"I wasn't cowering," Draco said as he came out from behind the bookcase. "I was
keeping a strategic distance."

"Of course," Snape said. "It's late. You should return to your dorm."

Now that it was safe, Draco felt unexpectedly disappointed to be dismissed so
quickly. "You mean we aren't going to...?"

Snape looked confused for a moment and then stared at Draco. "You can't mean to
say that you want to have sex. It must be three in the morning."

Dumbledore chuckled. "He's seventeen, Severus. What do you expect?"

Draco glared at Dumbledore before turning to Snape. "The Carrows said that they
were going to go to the Slytherin common room and look for me. I want to stay
here tonight. Sir," he added.

Snape sighed. "Fine. My bedroom is through the far door. I'll be in directly."

Draco nodded and headed for the bedroom.

The door opened to a clean, attractive room. Flames burst in silver sconces and
settled into a warm glow, gilding the green velvet of the curtains framing the
window and embracing the bed. A fireplace took up most of one wall, and yet
another bookshelf, overflowing with books, stretched beneath the window.
Comfortable chairs and a bedside table made Draco yearn for a good book and a
cup of tea.

He turned his attention to the bed itself. It was huge, a dark blue satin cover
spilling from it like a waterfall at midnight. Draco smiled.

When Snape entered, Draco was ready.

"A secret desire to be in Ravenclaw, professor?" Draco asked, reclining on blue
satin.

"Hardly." Snape eyed Draco's naked body. "I merely thought the setting
appropriate."

Draco smiled and stretched out on his side, watching Snape undress. The satin
of the sheets felt cool against his skin, and he was sure that he looked
perfect, stretched white and gold across their rich sheen. 

This was the first time he'd see Snape fully naked. When they were in the
office, Snape had merely allowed Draco to open his trousers and take out his
cock, though he ordered Draco to strip naked every time. 

At first glance, the body Snape revealed as he removed his clothing was
unattractive. Draco could see the marks of several wicked scars across Snape's
pale back. His stomach and groin were thick with black hair, contrasting
strangely with his pale skin and Draco's own pale elegance. Snape's only truly
impressive physical attribute was the cock that rose from between his legs, the
large balls hanging heavy and pendulous behind it. 

Draco had always considered his family's blond perfection to be a display of
the ultimate in pureblood power, but he now found Snape's dark imperfection to
be equally beautiful, the man's power raw, primal and exciting.

Draco's confidence rose when he saw Snape eye him hungrily as he slipped into
the bed.

"Do you like what you see?"

"Impudent boy." Snape slapped Draco's arse, startling a yelp out of him.
"There. That's better – much more appropriate than virginal white. I've been
looking forward to fucking your tight arse."

Draco ducked his head, but he could feel his ears burn as well as the handprint
on his arse. Snape noticed.

"I don't believe it! You're a virgin." Snape rolled his eyes. "I thought you'd
lived in the Slytherin dorms for seven years," he said snidely.

"It doesn't matter. I want this." Draco looked up, haughty. "Fuck me. Now."

Snape looked amused. "What? Do you want me to thrust into you at this very
moment?"

"You're the one who knows what he's doing. You tell me," Draco snapped.

"I think you should be silent before you say something that we'll both regret,"
Snape said mildly. "On your stomach."

Draco rolled to his stomach, his mouth dry. He yelped as something cold and wet
dripped on his back.

"Spare me your histrionics," Snape said. "It warms up quickly enough."

Snape straddled him and began to massage his back. Draco sighed with pleasure
and relaxed. He enjoyed massages, though Snape wasn't as skilful as his
personal masseuse, he reflected, as hands squeezed a bit too hard under his
arms. Still, they felt good. By the time Snape moved to his arse, Draco had
shifted a few times to relieve the pressure on his interested cock.

Snape kneaded the big muscles of his arse, his movements deliberately arousing.
Draco squirmed and then yelped again as he felt Snape's thumbs plunge into the
crevice of his arse and pull apart his cheeks. They ghosted across his
arsehole, gradually pressing in until Snape was rubbing his arsehole over and
over, pulling the small opening apart and releasing it until Draco thought he
would go mad with the teasing.

"Do it," he begged in a hoarse whisper. "Put it in me."

Snape chuckled and slid back to straddle Draco's thighs. "Impatient brat," he
said. "You'll wait and like it." He slid a slicked finger into Draco's hole.

Draco impatiently pushed back against it. It felt strange to have someone's
finger inside his arse, but it hadn't hurt like he'd been afraid it would. He
could feel Snape stroking the insides of his passage as he moved his finger
slowly in and out.

"So eager, Mr Malfoy?"

"Fuck me," Draco whined. 

Snape slapped his arse again and introduced another finger. By the time Snape
had worked in a third, Draco felt uncomfortably stretched, but he still felt no
pain.

Then Snape touched something inside him that made his cock jump. Draco gripped
the sheets and rutted against them.

"Do that again!" he demanded.

In reply, Snape withdrew his fingers. "Up," he commanded, pulling at Draco's
hips. Draco rose up on his hands and knees, allowing Snape to position him at
the end of the bed. Snape climbed out and stood behind him. 

"Hang on," he said, gripping Draco's hips. He pushed, and his cock slid in.

Draco gasped and fell forward on his elbows as fire raced up his arse and into
his back. "Stop," he said.

"No. You can take it," Snape said, pulling out and thrusting in again. "Do you
know what you look like? All cream and gold. Debauched." He thrust hard with
every word. Draco buried his face in the midnight blue satin and hung on. It's
a matter of survival, he thought to himself. At least it's not the Cruciatus
Curse.

But after a few strokes, the pain subsided. Snape's thrusts jolted his body,
each ending with a grind and a twist. Draco caught his breath. The place inside
him flared, and he flung his arse back to meet Snape's next thrust.

"Harder," he panted.

"Beg me," Snape said.

"Harder. Fuck me. Fuck me. Please. Fuck me hard!"

"Who do you answer to? Tell me!" Snape asked through clenched teeth, hips
snapping.

"You. I'm yours. Fuck me, take me."

"Bring yourself off."

Draco buried his shoulder into the sheets to brace himself as best he could and
reached back to take his cock in his hand. He was so hard he could swear he
felt Snape's cock impacting his own prick. He swiped his thumb over the crown
over and over, smearing the slick fluid that leaked out until his cock moved in
his hand as smoothly as an oiled Snitch.

"More, more, more," he chanted.

"So beautiful," Snape said. His hips slapped against Draco's arse again and
again, his heavy balls slapping against Draco's. "I've taken you, been your
first. You won't forget that. No matter who else fucks you, I've had you
first."

"Yours," Draco moaned. "Oh, gods, Severus, harder. I'm going to come."

"Not until I tell you to," Snape said breathlessly. He pressed close to Draco's
back, leaving his feet on the floor to lend power to his thrusts. "Wait."

"Hurry!"

"Brat," Snape panted. "Now!"

Draco exploded with a cry, milking burst after burst of semen from his cock. He
felt Snape give a series of short, deep thrusts and then still, his fingers
digging cruelly into Draco's shoulders. He collapsed on top of Draco, his hips
still moving.

They lay there, panting. Draco felt Snape's softening cock slip out of him with
a wet pop. Then, groaning, Snape rolled off Draco and reached for his wand. He
cast a cleaning charm on them before dragging Draco further onto the bed and
drawing a sheet over them.

"Never call me by my given name again," Draco heard. He smiled, closed his eyes
and fell asleep.

                                    vVvVvVv


The day of the Slytherin/Hufflepuff Quidditch match dawned crisp, the air as
sharp as the first bite of an apple. It was a perfect day for flying.

Draco adjusted his arm pads. 

"I want a fair game," Hooch said, glaring at him. He smirked, shook the
Hufflepuff captain's hand, and mounted his broom.

Once airborne, he flew lazy circles, vigilant but relaxed. Hufflepuff hadn't
won a Quidditch match in years. He doubted they would break their losing streak
today – he'd overheard Crabbe telling Goyle that there was going to be a
surprise at today's game, which should just about guarantee Slytherin the win,
considering how close Crabbe was to the Carrows. He was curious to see what
they had in store but considered himself forewarned enough that he wouldn't
allow anything untoward to break his concentration.

The Snitch took its own sweet time in showing itself. Slytherin racked up goal
after goal against the feeble Hufflepuff Keeper. Draco smirked at the raw
determination that blazed from the other Seeker's face; he probably thought
himself the saviour of his team. Just like Potter, thought Draco.

Just as a particularly vicious and well-aimed Bludger attack brought the score
to 140 to nothing in Slytherin's favour, a glint of gold caught the corner of
Draco's eye. 

The Snitch.

In a heartbeat, he sped towards it, diving sharply to the right.

The Hufflepuff Seeker had seen it, too, and was closer. Furious, Draco pushed
his broom hard, determined to out-fly the Hufflepuff, each twist and dodge of
the Snitch bringing him closer. He sneered at the other Seeker as he drew even
with him. Stretching, Draco just inched past the other's longer reach when he
was rocked by a blow that sent him flailing off his broom. He grabbed the
handle as he fell, catching himself as the Hufflepuff raced onward. He dragged
himself back onto the broom, his right arm dangling sharp and broken and
utterly useless. The pain was too much, but Hufflepuff couldn't win, so he
pushed himself forward....

He roared in fury as the Hufflepuff's hand closed on the Snitch.

A bright flash of light erupted, turning into a fireball that engulfed the
Hufflepuff Seeker. Draco barely managed to avoid him as he plummeted, screams
choked off by flames that burned through leather, wood, flesh. Draco watched in
horror as the other boy's writhing stopped long before he hit the ground, where
the impact broke what was left into pieces.

Fiendfyre. Draco promptly threw up.

He was the last player to make it to the ground. Draco landed hard and laid
there, his arm throbbing and his clothing soiled. He was dimly aware that Goyle
crouched by his side as the Hogwarts professors finally brought the blaze under
control. 

"Crabbe's going to get you help," he heard, interspersed with, "I'm really
sorry, Draco."

Deciding to ignore Goyle's ravings, he fainted.

                                    vVvVvVv


So many students had been injured in the fire and the panicked stampede from
the Quidditch pitch that Draco found himself healed and released from the
hospital wing within the hour to make room for more serious cases.

Not willing to face the avid gossip of the Slytherin common room, he made his
way to Snape's office. Snape wasn't in, so he dropped, exhausted, into one of
the chairs by the fireplace and covered his face with his hands for a moment. 

His mind replayed the Hufflepuff's blazing body plummeting from the sky,
hearing the boy's screams over the roar of the cursed flames. 

In front of him, the fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace. Draco dropped
his hands and stood. Taking a chair by the window, as far away from the
fireplace as he could, he waited for Snape to return.

"I'm glad to see that you're all right, Mr Malfoy."

Startled, Draco glared at Dumbledore's portrait and then looked away,
determined to ignore the old fool.

"There is evil afoot at Hogwarts."

"There's always evil at Hogwarts," Draco snapped. "Does the Chamber of Secrets
ring a bell? Nothing's changed."

"Everything has changed," Dumbledore replied. "Now, the evil is aimed at you."

Draco snorted. "Don't be a fool. Other than Carrow's harassment, I'm probably
one of the safest people in the school."

"Are you?" Dumbledore didn't sound offended, more as if he were musing out
loud. "Who would you think would normally have caught the Snitch in a match
between Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

Draco's jaw dropped.

"Mr Goyle is a true friend, Draco. You are safe with him."

"I'm safe with nobody, you senile old git," spat Draco. "I can take care of
myself. I'm not an idiot like Potter. I know when to keep my head down."

The door to the office slammed open and Snape stalked in.

"There you are." He grabbed Draco by the upper arms and shook him once, hard.
"What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?"

"Playing Quidditch!" Draco sputtered. "I didn't plan to get almost killed in
the process, believe me."

Snape released him and waved his wand at the door, which slammed shut. He threw
locking and silencing spells on it in rapid succession. Then he grabbed Draco
again, his fingers digging deep into Draco's arms. Before Draco could yelp in
pain, Snape yanked him close and devoured his mouth.

They hadn't kissed before, which Draco suddenly realised was a damned shame,
because Snape kissed brilliantly. He nipped Draco's lips until they were red
and swollen and sucked on Draco's tongue only to release it and thrust his
tongue into Draco's mouth again and again. 

Snape tasted of darkness and desperation. He gave no quarter in his assault.

Hands fumbled at his waist, and Draco's uniform was ripped open. Snape pulled
Draco's cock out and dropped to his knees, swallowing Draco down to the root.
Draco shouted and grabbed Snape's shoulders, thrusting hard into the hot mouth.
He could feel his climax building.

His cock fell from Snape's lips and he whined his protest. "Suck me."

Snape turned him around and shoved him face first against the wall. Draco
splayed his hands against the cold stone and hissed with pleasure as Snape
pulled down his pants and spread his arse cheeks wide. 

A tongue stabbed into his arsehole, making him yelp. 

"Oh, shite, oh, fuck, yes, yes, oh fuck, don't stop," he babbled as Snape
tongue-fucked his hole. He could feel Snape's saliva dripping down his crack.
Abruptly, Snape moved away. The air felt cold, and Draco could feel his
arsehole twitching at the sudden loss of contact. "Don't stop."

A blunt hardness pressed against his hole. Before he could catch his breath,
Snape pushed inside.

Draco felt as if he was being split in half. Snape pressed him into the wall,
setting a punishing pace as he thrust into Draco again and again. "Relax," he
panted into Draco's ear. "You're alive." He leaned his forehead against the
back of Draco's head and snapped his hips harder.

"Ungh," Draco said as his cock ground against the stone. He spat into his hand
and grabbed his prick. For the most part, his Quidditch padding protected him
from the rough wall, but where he was naked, he could feel bruises and scrapes
forming. He jerked himself hard and fast, his climax building again. He grunted
with each of Snape's thrusts.

"Come for me, Draco," Snape whispered hot against his neck. Draco moaned. "I
want to look at this wall and know you painted it with your come, with me
inside you."

Draco exploded, semen spraying from his cock, jerking backwards into Snape
since he couldn't thrust into the unyielding rock. Snape roared and thrust one
last time, harder than before, crushing Draco against the wall. Draco could
feel the big cock pulse inside his arse and gloried that he could make Snape
lose control in such a spectacular way.

They stood for a moment, supported by the wall, then slowly slid down to land
in a tangle of arms and legs. Draco found himself cradled in Snape's arms, with
Snape's panting breaths warm against his shoulder.

"I spoke with Mr Goyle," Snape said finally. "He told me that Carrow tampered
with the Snitch. He was trying to kill you."

"That's what Dumbledore said," Draco replied.

"I expected as much. Did he also tell you that Mr Goyle aimed the Bludger to
deliberately knock you off your broom?"

"Not in so many words." Draco lazily nestled back into Snape's warm embrace.
"The idiot. He could have killed me just as surely as the Snitch would have."

"Quidditch is cancelled for the year," Snape said.

Draco sighed. "I wish everything could have just stayed the same," he said.
"You know. Like it used to be, before Father..." he trailed off.

Snape didn't answer. 

"Though I'd like to keep the part with us fucking," Draco added thoughtfully.

"Wishing for what cannot be is a useless exercise." Snape abruptly withdrew his
arms and stood.

"I'm a mess," Draco said, plucking at his bloody, semen-covered Quidditch
uniform. He looked up to see Snape looking down at him with a strange, almost
gentle expression on his face. It disappeared as soon as Snape noticed his
gaze.

"Get cleaned up. We've work to do," Snape said. He turned his back on Draco and
walked away.

Later, after he'd showered, Draco was surprised to see a rash covering much of
his face. "Stubble-burn," he whispered as he remembered Snape's desperate
kisses. He looked thoughtfully at himself in the mirror before healing it.

                                    vVvVvVv


Draco slipped through the halls, avoiding Filch and his disgusting cat. Tonight
he'd stayed late to help Snape prepare for the Halloween feast, mainly by
suggesting trysting places he'd used to hide from the teachers when he was
younger while Snape updated his patrol maps.

Then they'd fucked like minks. Over the past few weeks, Draco had come to
relish the soreness in his arse. Some nights he didn't bother to heal himself
right away, instead lying in bed and fingering his tender arse while he wanked
to the memory of Snape's cock.

Tonight was going to be one of those nights. He smiled.

A sound floated down the hallway from somewhere in front of him. Cursing
softly, he ducked into a curtain-covered niche and waited for Filch to pass.

"How about we use the 'We Need You For Dumbledore's Army' slogan tonight?" a
voice whispered not far away.

"Brilliant," whispered another. "It'll be the first thing the Ravenclaws see
when they go down to breakfast. We could use more of them."

Draco smiled. It was Longbottom and his little Gryffindor pals. He waited for
them to pass and then slipped back to the headmaster's office.

Snape and Dumbledore were talking when he entered.

"He's found another Horcrux, Severus. We need to buy him as much time as we can
until he completes his quest."

"The situation is ripe for disaster." Snape sounded disgusted. "Sooner or
later, Carrow is going to succeed in his efforts to undermine my standing with
the Dark Lord, and now the boy –"

"Hush," Dumbledore said. "Mr Malfoy. What a delightful surprise," he added in a
louder voice.

Behind him, the office door slammed shut.

"Professor," Draco said hesitantly. "Longbottom is writing graffiti..." 

Snape crossed the room in several swift strides and grabbed Draco's shoulders.
"What did you hear, boy?" he said, his face twisted in anger.

"Obviously something that you didn't want me to hear," Draco retorted.
"Whatever it was, I have no idea what you were talking about."

"I need to know WHAT YOU HEARD!" Snape shouted.

Draco's eyes widened in shock. "Right," he gasped. "Well, I heard something
about something called a horse crutch and something about a quest, and that
you're worried about Carrow worming his way into the Dark Lord's good graces –
wait, why would you talk about the Dark Lord to Dumbledore?"

"He's bound to me," Snape said. "Is that all?"

"Yes. That's it." A horrible thought struck him. "Professor, the Dark Lord
hasn't given you a task, has he?" The memory of his own failed task made his
heart beat faster. "You can't leave Hogwarts," he blurted. "You can't leave me
here alone!"

"I'm not going to leave you alone, you idiot." Snape took a deep breath and
released him. "But knowledge of our conversation could endanger your life."

"What's new?" Draco said, relieved. "I said I'd keep your secrets."

Snape frowned. "That sounds singularly unlike you, Mr Malfoy."

"Things have changed. I think the less I know about some things, the better
chance I have of surviving," Draco said quietly. He didn't add that he was
frightened of losing Snape's patronage, but he suspected Snape understood.

Snape considered him thoughtfully. "I'm astonished to hear you demonstrate that
much sense."

Draco sighed. "Look, are you interested in catching the group that's been
writing the graffiti?"

"No. Leave them. They're an annoyance but little else. Wait," Snape looked at
Dumbledore's portrait. "You said that it was Longbottom?" Dumbledore's eyebrows
went up, and he nodded once. Snape turned back to Draco. "Never mind. I'll come
with you."

They left the office, Draco leading Snape to the Ravenclaw Tower.

When they arrived, it was to hear furtive whispers and a burst of nervous
giggling. Draco watched as Snape silently entered the corridor where the
Gryffindors were just finishing a particularly striking slogan, with letters
that glowed and occasionally burst into showers of fireworks.

"Mr Longbottom."

The Gryffindors yelped and froze, slowly turning to face Snape.

"My office. Now."

Draco gleefully noted that none of them had been smart enough to cut and run
the moment that Snape had spoken. He remembered Longbottom's unwanted sympathy
earlier in the year and viciously hoped that he'd be assigned detention with
Carrow again.

"Malfoy," the female Weasley said as they caught sight of him. "I should have
known. Spying little ferret."

"That's enough, Miss Weasley," Snape said. "I think that particular outburst
has earned you five hundred lines. 'I must not be stupid enough to play pranks
without posting a lookout and arranging for an alibi' will do nicely, I think."

The Gryffindors fell silent at that.

When they reached the office, Snape made them stand in a row in front of his
desk. He sat, remaining silent. They began to fidget nervously. 

Draco sat by the window and gloated. Carrow had been talking about teaching
students how to cast the Cruciatus curse. He'd hinted that he was going to
recruit demonstration 'volunteers' from amongst the students who received
detentions. Draco wondered what Longbottom would sound like when he screamed.

"Longbottom, Weasley, Finnegan, and Creevey." Snape spoke softly, in the voice
that all Slytherins recognized as dangerous. "Fools, each one of you. Don't you
realise that Hogwarts is not the safe, innocent place you all seem to think it
is? I have talked to the entire student body about making the correct choices.
What do you imagine will happen when I turn you over to the Deputy
Headmasters?"

Longbottom paled while the rest looked sulky. At least Longbottom understands,
Draco thought with contempt.

"This nonsense about Dumbledore's Army must stop immediately. If I find out
that you have once again started that ill-advised and ill-fated group, I will
send you to the Carrows immediately. Remember what happened the last time
foolish children tried to challenge their betters." 

Longbottom and Weasley glanced at each other, though the others looked blank.
Draco suddenly realised that they must have been with Potter when his father
was sent to Azkaban. Rage blazed through him.

"This will be your only warning. In the future, your punishment will be swift
and thorough. For now, I believe that lines and two weeks helping Hagrid patrol
the Forbidden Forest will suffice. I want to see one thousand lines each, 'I
must not incite other students to revolt' by dinner tomorrow. No magic. I will
be testing the documents. That's in addition to the five hundred already
assigned to you, Miss Weasley," he added. "Dismissed. And if you do not return
directly to your dormitory, I shall know it," he said as the Gryffindors
hurried to the door. It slammed shut behind them.

"Hagrid!" Draco sprung up from his chair. "Why didn't you send them to the
Carrows? They deserve to be punished, not babied!"

"Ironic, don't you think, that you're so eager to send others to a fate that
you've worked so hard to avoid," Snape murmured.

"It's not the same and you know it," Draco said. "You saw Longbottom and
Weasley. They were with Potter at the Ministry two years ago, weren't they?
Weren't they?"

"That's neither here nor there," Snape said.

Draco exploded. "They sent my father to Azkaban!"

Snape looked at him coldly. "Your father made foolish mistakes. That's why he
went to Azkaban."

"You lie," Draco snapped. "He was doing the Dark Lord's bidding. Then Potter
ruined everything. Everything! He took everything away from us, and Longbottom
and Weasley helped!"

"Calm yourself," Snape ordered.

"You bastard!" Draco shouted, leaning across Snape's desk to shout in his face.
"You're jealous of my father. You always have been! That's why you don't care
that he got sent to prison, and I bet that's why you just coddled those stupid
Gryffindors. My father was the Dark Lord's most trusted follower, he was the
power behind the Ministry, he was on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and you
were just a lowly Potions Master –"

"That is enough!" Snape abruptly pushed his chair back and stood, aiming his
wand. 

Ropes shot out of the wand and wrapped around Draco. Off-balance, he fell to
the floor.

"That's why you like to fuck me, isn't it?" Draco sneered from the floor. "I
bet you imagine you're fucking my father, don't you? Let me go, you bastard!"

Snape was white with fury. Without a word, he Levitated Draco and floated his
bound body to the bedroom, dropping him without ceremony in the middle of the
bed. The door slammed shut while Snape cast a Silencing Charm.

"You listen to me, you spoiled little pointy-faced brat," he said, his voice
low and his eyes blazing. "Your father was a fool who had everything and risked
it all in his greed for more. He pledged himself to a madman. He betrayed your
mother and me to the same madman, binding all of us to his fate. Do you
understand? He'd lost everything long before you were born!"

"You're lying," Draco said. "My father is a great man."

"Your father lives or dies by the whim of another," Snape said remorselessly.
"As do you yourself, I might point out. The moment he decided to put his faith
in the Dark Lord, your current fate was sealed, you little fool. I can't stop
you from living in your pathetic fantasy world, but I'll be damned if you make
me a party to it."

"You're lying," he whispered. But Snape's words made too much sense, Draco
realised. No matter how much he wanted to blame Potter, Longbottom, and the
stupid female Weasley, events had been set in action long before he or any of
them had been born.

"And for your information, I don't imagine that I am fucking your father when
we have sex. I choose my partners, not fantasise about them. I know who I'm
fucking. I wonder if you do."

Draco fell silent as he thought about what Snape had said. Finally, he gave
in. 

"It's never going to be right again, is it?"

Snape sat on the bed, looking exhausted. "Most likely not. The question is, are
you strong enough to build something new once all of this is over?"

"If the Dark Lord wins, we're doomed."

Snape shrugged. "Perhaps. Of course, that's not the only possible outcome."

"Are you saying –?"

"I'm not saying anything. You would do well to heed what I told the
Gryffindors, Draco," Snape said. He laid his hand on Draco's face. "A time will
come when an opportunity will open itself to you. You must be vigilant, and you
must have a back-up plan."

Draco nodded slowly. He needed – well, he wasn't sure what he needed, but Snape
could give it to him, he was sure of it. But he'd have to ask for it. 

"Kiss me," he whispered.

Snape bent and kissed him, a gentle kiss that seemed foreign on his lips but
tasted very sweet. Draco moaned and struggled to free himself. 

Snape drew back and looked at him, arousal flushing his face. "You're quite
attractive when you're restrained," he said.

"Untie me. Please?" 

"No, I think I prefer you bound. Of course, your current configuration is
somewhat limiting," Snape said. The cords loosened; but before Draco could
wriggle free, they looped themselves around his ankles and wrists and pulled
his limbs wide, anchoring themselves to the bedposts. Snape transformed the
cords into silken scarves wherever they bound him.

Draco pulled against the bindings. There wasn't a lot of give, but at least the
silk didn't dig too deeply into his skin.

Snape levitated Draco's hips and placed a pillow underneath him.

Fifteen minutes later, Snape was buried deep inside Draco's arse, moving in
slow, languid strokes that had Draco begging for more. The combination of
helplessness and power was intoxicating. This was exactly what he had needed.
By the time Snape built to their usual punishing pace, Draco had come twice and
was raw from Snape's kisses.

Finally Snape stiffened and pushed in hard, groaning. Then he collapsed on top
of Draco.

"I hate to mention it," Draco said dryly, "but would you be good enough to
untie me and bring me off again, please?"

Snape snorted and rolled off him. "Untie yourself. You should have been
practicing some wandless magic by now. The incantation is 'Solvo Mihi'."

It took him several tries, but Draco eventually loosened his bonds enough to
wriggle out of them. Snape rewarded him by giving him a blow job. 

"Fuck. My prick is raw," Draco said, sprawled in post-orgasmic abandon. "Do you
realise I've come four times tonight?"

"Do you realise that it's well past midnight? You should return to your dorm."
Snape had already stretched out and closed his eyes.

Reluctantly, Draco crawled out of bed, cast a Cleansing Charm on himself, and
began to dress. Sex aside, he was still shaken by what he'd learned that night,
and the thought of simply going back to the dorm to sleep seemed wrong. He
slowly buttoned his shirt. 

"Professor. I'm confused."

"Spare me your adolescent misgivings about bondage sex."

"That's not what I'm talking about." He had a hard time forming his words; his
mouth was dry. "I'm talking about Dumbledore. And..." he tried to swallow, but
failed, "...and about – you, sir."

Snape snarled and sat up. "Shut up now."

Draco persisted. "Everyone knows that Potter doesn't stand a chance. But you –
you're talking to Dumbledore, and you implied that the Dark Lord might not win.
Like Potter has a chance against..."

"Stop right there!" Snape roared. "Do not say another word." He swung his legs
off the bed. "You idiot boy. What do I keep telling you? You cannot afford to
be confused. I won't be here to protect you forever." 

"Then tell me," Draco begged. He stopped dressing and crossed the bedroom to
kneel in front of Snape. "Tell me what to do, what to think, who to trust."

Snape looked at him in disgust. "Get out."

Draco refused to turn away, allowing all his fear to show. For a moment, Draco
thought Snape might relent, but then his face hardened. He spat at the floor,
glared at Draco for another heartbeat, and then swung his legs back into the
bed, turning his back to Draco and pulling the blankets over his shoulders.

"Nox."

At Snape's word, the room fell into darkness. Draco slumped against the bed and
listened to Snape breathing.

Eventually, he stood and cast a quiet "Lumos," finished dressing, and left
Snape's quarters, quietly closing the door behind him.

He knew Snape hadn't yet fallen asleep.

                                    vVvVvVv


After that, Snape, wary to begin with, became nearly paranoid. He refused to
speak to Dumbledore's portrait when Draco was in the office, and Draco noticed
that he'd set warning wards on his office door. Several times while working on
reports, Draco looked up to find Snape staring at him, face unreadable. 

                                    vVvVvVv


Draco stood, stretching his back and shaking out his hands. He'd been compiling
the weekly curriculum report for hours, a task he loathed and that Snape
assigned to him every Wednesday. Sometimes he envied Crabbe and Goyle their
lack of scholarship – Snape would never make them write up curriculum reports.

"Bloody paperwork," he muttered. 

"You've been very helpful to Severus," Dumbledore's portrait said. "I believe
he appreciates it greatly."

Draco looked at the portrait. "He has you spy on me when he's not here, doesn't
he?"

Dumbledore twinkled. "Now you sound as paranoid as Severus."

"And you didn't answer my question," Draco said. "Not that it matters. He'd be
a fool if he didn't, and Snape's anything but a fool."

"He cares for you deeply, you know," Dumbledore said gently.

Draco frowned. "What does that have to do with anything? Caring for someone
doesn't mean that you trust them."

"For many, it does." Dumbledore sighed. "But, I agree. Under the circumstances,
you may well be well-served by caution."

"Look," Draco said, crossing to stand in front of the portrait, "he's not here
right now. What do you think? Do you think the Dark Lord will win this war?"

"I don't think my opinion is as important to that question as yours."

"I don't know!" Draco said agitatedly. "Nothing makes sense. There's no way
that Potter can defeat the Dark Lord, yet if the Dark Lord wins..." he
shivered. "I doubt that I or my family will survive for long."

"You have options," Dumbledore said. "There's still time."

"Don't be stupid. If I do anything other than what I'm doing now, he'll kill my
parents," Draco said. 

"Your mother and father made their choices long ago. You have the right to make
yours, too. Do you understand me, Mr Malfoy? If you sacrifice your right to
choose, it is a choice in itself. And that may not what is best for you or for
your parents."

Draco's shoulders dropped. "I cannot abandon them," he whispered.

"Nor am I suggesting that you do so unless absolutely necessary."

"Snape killed you. Yet the two of you work together. Did you – did you forgive
him?"

"Draco," Dumbledore said, "I can assure you that your parents will still love
and forgive you regardless of what you may have to do."

Draco nodded and glanced at the door leading to Snape's bedroom. "But would
he?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Severus does not find it easy to forgive. But he would
understand."

Draco remained silent.

Snape entered the office, looking tired. He paused when he noticed Draco and
Dumbledore both watching him.

"I'm not in the mood," he said. Draco stood aside as Snape crossed to his desk
and sat.

"Mood for what?" Dumbledore asked.

"For any idiocy," Snape said. "From either of you. This thrice-damned Halloween
party is one of the most ill conceived travesties ever known to wizard-kind.
The Bloody Baron has helped me to organise the ghosts into patrols, but even
with them this castle is too bloody big."

"You can't keep them from having fun," Dumbledore said.

Snape put his head in his hands. "Four hundred idiots running about in costume,
many of them masked. Illegal student factions for and against the Dark Lord.
Too few arguably sane individuals, living and dead, to patrol properly. The
Carrows teaching Unforgivables in the classroom. Would you like to take odds on
the number of murdered bodies we find in the morning?"

Dumbledore looked troubled. "I had thought the event might relieve some of the
tension."

"Perhaps we should leave them to cull their numbers themselves," Snape
muttered.

"You could cancel the party," Draco said. 

"We'd have a riot," Snape said. "The body count would likely mount even higher.
No, we seem doomed to follow the path of folly already established."

"Hope for the best, my boy," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps you are too fatalistic."

Both Draco and Snape looked at Dumbledore in disbelief. 

                                    vVvVvVv


The traditional Halloween Feast had come to an end with no poisonings. Or at
least, no fast-acting poisons.

Within moments, the house elves had moved the cleared tables to the sides of
the Great Hall and a cowed band had taken the stage under Snape's glaring eyes.
Soon music filled the room. 

Students stood in tight groups, waiting for someone to brave the dance floor.

"Pathetic," Draco muttered. He watched as Snape impatiently gestured with his
head. A group of seventh year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs shuffled onto the
floor and half-heartedly began to move to the music. Gradually, more students
joined them until the dance floor was as crowded as the Great Hall ever was
these days, with so few students at the school.

Draco prowled the edges of the crowd. He'd instructed Goyle and Crabbe to keep
their eyes open for the Gryffindor delinquents and to let him know if they left
the hall.

A few minutes later, his vigilance paid off. Crabbe and Goyle shoved dancers
out of the way as they crossed the hall to Draco's side.

"The Gryffindors are gone," Crabbe announced.

"Did you see which way they went?" Draco asked.

"It looked like they were headed for the staircases," Goyle said.

"I want the two of you to split up and search for them. If you find them, come
and get me. I'll be waiting here." Watching the Carrows, he silently added to
himself.

They left the Great Hall, and Draco looked around until he located the Carrows
again. As always, they stayed close together, ridiculously dressed like seventh
year Slytherins, Draco noted, and his nose wrinkled at the thought of them
being his age. They seemed to be rooted to the corner behind the stage, their
heads close together and their shrill giggles clear whenever the band finished
a song.

Satisfied that they'd stay there for a few minutes at least, Draco searched the
crowd for Snape. He wasn't in the Great Hall, so Draco slipped into the main
corridor. 

There, he spotted Snape talking to the Bloody Baron. The whispered conversation
between the two ended, the Bloody Baron floating off towards the dungeons and
Snape stalking back to the doors that led to the Great Hall.

Draco turned to enter the Great Hall again when Crabbe appeared at his elbow.

"I found them. They're outside the Headmaster's office. I think they're trying
to get in," Crabbe said, a disturbing grin on his face.

Draco cursed. "Right. You go and get Snape; I'll head for the Headmaster's
office and see if I can stop them."

"Okay, Draco," Crabbe said, slipping into the Great Hall.

Draco raced towards the moving stairs, hoping against hope that they'd
cooperate in order to get him to the Headmaster's office as quickly as
possible. To his amazement, they did.

He paused at the bottom of the staircase that led to the office. Hearing
running footsteps behind him, he slipped behind the gargoyle that guarded the
stairs.

Crabbe appeared, panting hard.

"What are you doing here?" Draco demanded as he stepped out from behind the
gargoyle. 

"Snape sent me," Crabbe said.

Draco nodded. "Fine. Let's go. You go first."

Crabbe started up the stairs, Draco following close behind him. When they
reached the top of the stairs, Draco grabbed Crabbe's robes.

"Wait. Something's wrong. They're not here."

"Maybe they've got inside already," Crabbe whispered back.

If so, the Gryffindors were smarter than Draco had given them credit for.
Snape's wards were very strong. Draco drew his wand.

"Let's see," he said grimly.

He disabled the wards and slowly entered the room. It was dark, and there was
no sign of Longbottom and his cronies. He turned to Crabbe, "They're not –"

"Imperio!" Crabbe shouted.

The familiar fog of the Imperius curse settled over Draco's mind. Horrified, he
tried to fight it; but just like before, it easily defeated him. A small part
of him remained conscious and gibbered its fear deep inside him.

"Give me your wand," Crabbe said. Draco handed his wand to Crabbe just as Goyle
came running up the stairs.

"You got in!" he said.

"It wasn't hard," Crabbe said, handing him Draco's wand. "Malfoy is the most
gullible fool I've ever met."

From somewhere within the vague depths of the curse, Draco watched as Crabbe
and Goyle kissed passionately. They smiled at each other.

"You hussy," Goyle said. "Business first. Take Malfoy further into the room.
The real Crabbe is on his way to Snape with a message. It seems the Carrows,"
and both Crabbe and Goyle giggled, "have Mr Malfoy trapped in the Headmaster's
office."

As Draco watched, the two boys began to bubble and boil. In a few moments , the
Carrows stood before him, still clad in their ridiculous Slytherin House
costumes. Draco's heart sank. Polyjuice.

Alecto gestured with her wand. "Over there. Now."

Draco obediently crossed the room to stop by Snape's desk. He saw Dumbledore
try to catch his eye. Desperately, he tried to respond, but his body turned to
face the door at Alecto's command.

"Rip his clothes," Amycus said. "We need to make it look good."

Alecto spelled his clothes into shreds until Draco was nearly naked. Inside, he
raged.

"Do you remember that curse that Snape used when we went to collect the Potter
brat?" Alecto asked.

"Sectumsempra," Amycus replied. "Hush. I think he's coming." He took a position
to the side of the door while Alecto aimed her wand at Draco.

Sectumsempra. The small part of Draco that remained free of the Imperius
panicked. Flashes of memory: spell trails, a slick floor, Potter's voice and a
horrible, tearing pain. 

With all his will, he fought the Imperius. He couldn't even make himself
breathe faster.

The door to the office flew open and Snape rushed into the room. "Draco!"

Behind him, Amycus shut the door. Snape froze and then slowly turned. Draco was
frantic to see that Amycus had Draco's own wand trained on Snape.

"Carrow," Snape said. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I call it a promotion," Carrow said. 

Snape's eyes narrowed. "I take it that you've put Malfoy under Imperius again."

"You seem very sure of his allegiance," Alecto said. "Tell him, Draco."

"I thought of the plan," Draco said.

Snape didn't bother to acknowledge him. "I see you have Malfoy's wand. Clever."

"Come here, Draco," Amycus said. Draco started towards Carrow. "No! Not in
front of –"

Snape whirled and pushed Draco towards the bookcase. 

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Snape stiffened and fell to the floor.

"Good work, Amycus," Alecto said. "Draco, come here."

Draco picked himself from the floor and walked to Alecto. Amycus kept Draco's
wand trained on Snape, but he crossed over to meet them.

"Take the wand," Amycus said.

Draco felt a frisson of hope. He took his wand from Amycus. 'Avada
Kedavra,' his mind shouted. Nothing happened.

"There's a very special curse I want you to cast, Draco," Alecto said. "Can you
guess what it is?"

"Sectumsempra," he replied. 

"That's right. Now, cast it on the headmaster."

Draco raised the wand and turned. "Sectumsempra!"

Dumbledore's portrait leapt out of the frame as the curse shredded the canvas.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Now, if he could only figure out a loophole
every time they gave him a command.

He wasn't given the opportunity. "You idiot!" Carrow shouted. "Cast it on
Snape!"

Draco felt himself turn. He looked down at Snape, watched his wand hand rise,
heard himself say, "Sectumsempra!"

'NO!' he screamed inside.

Great slashes gouged through Snape's clothing, blood spraying everywhere. So
much blood. Draco stood frozen, looking down in horror at Snape, whose frozen
expression didn't change as his eyes met Draco's.

The Carrows laughed and clapped. "Well done, boy! Now, you stay here," Amycus
said. "We'll come back for you in the morning. I'm sure the Aurors will
appreciate getting a good night's sleep before dealing with Snape's ugly
carcass." Still laughing, they left the room.

"Draco!" 

Since the Carrows had only ordered him to stay there, he thought he might have
enough freedom to turn. Slowly, he forced his body to move.

Dumbledore stood in another portrait, one of Draco's relatives, if he
remembered correctly. "Draco, you must fight the Imperius. Are you going to
allow someone to tell you what to do?"

"Help me," he begged. The words made it out of his mouth.

"You must staunch Severus' wounds immediately."

He looked back at Snape. Blood puddled around Snape's frozen body, and the
wound still bled. "Tell me," he said, not knowing if it would be enough.

Dumbledore seemed to understand. "Draco, cast the spell that Severus cast on
you last year," he said. "Cast it on Severus."

Half-remembered words spilled from his mouth in a musical litany, and his wand
began to move along each of the horrific gashes that flayed Snape's body. The
bleeding seemed to slow. He tried to push more magic through his wand.

The bleeding stopped.

"Tell me," he said. 

Under Dumbledore's commands, Draco brought Blood-Replenishing Potion and
dittany from Snape's personal stores.

"Finite Incantatem!"

Snape slumped, his body sprawled. Draco watched, silent, as Dumbledore said,
"Severus. You need to take the curse off Draco."

Snape groaned, but reached for Draco's wand. "Finite Incantatem," he whispered.

Draco fell to his knees. "Fuck." He crawled over to Snape and pulled him to a
sitting position. "Drink this," he said.

Snape seemed better once he'd drunk the potion. He struggled to sit on his own.

"Stop it," Draco said. "I nearly killed you. The least you can let me do is
hold you up."

"I cannot afford to look weak." Snape tried again.

"Don't be an idiot. Look, you've got to rest."

"We need to find the Carrows. Merlin knows what they're doing if they think I'm
dead."

"If you think I'm hauling you around the castle to look for those homicidal
maniacs in the middle of the night, you don't know me very well. Besides, a few
less Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs won't change the world."

"I agree with Mr Malfoy, Severus. Not about the loss of non-Slytherin students,
of course, but with his advice to rest."

"I'll need to be on my feet in the morning," Snape said. "I might as well get
started now."

Dumbledore sighed. "Unfortunately, you're correct about the morning. I imagine
that the Carrows' plots will be seriously undermined if you are in the Great
Hall for breakfast."

"The Dark Lord will not be amused to see them bring Aurors to Hogwarts," Snape
agreed. "But we need to keep this quiet," he added, looking at Draco.

Draco nodded and looked away. 

He was aware that Snape studied him for several moments, but when Snape spoke,
it was to Dumbledore.

"I'll commission another background for you in the morning."

"That will work very well. Thank you, Severus."

Draco glanced at the ruined canvas. "I didn't really mean to kill you again,
sir."

"You did a remarkable thing, Mr Malfoy. Something that I've never seen done
before."

"I didn't throw off the Imperius," Draco snapped. "I should have been strong
enough –"

"You did even better," Dumbledore said. "You undermined it. A unique approach,
I must say."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't need to be lied to; I'm not some child you need
to make feel better. I failed."

"But we survived," Snape said. 

Draco sighed. "Come on. Let's get cleaned up and go to bed."

"If you think I can perform –"

"No sex," Draco interrupted. "No performance issues. Just this once, I don't
want any lies or manipulations. I just want you to be okay."

Snape looked at him, distrust written plainly across his face. "Very altruistic
of you, Mr Malfoy."

"Yeah," Draco sighed, slipping his shoulder under Snape's arm and pulling him
to his feet. "Just call me Potter. C'mon."

Slowly they made their way to Snape's quarters. After helping him to settle as
comfortably as possible, Draco sat by Snape's bed all night, a candle burning
on the bedside table, watching the lines in Snape's face relax as he slept.

                                    vVvVvVv


One year later...

Draco re-read the letter from his solicitors.

...'we are pleased to inform you that the Ministry of Magic has withdrawn all
claims against Malfoy estates, properties, accounts, and chattels. In addition,
probate has been expedited. Please allow us here at Grimshaw, Gaye and Grimshaw
to extend our humble congratulations and well-wishes to you and your household.
We ask that you make expedient arrangements to visit our offices to sign the
necessary paperwork entailed...

Only a week had passed since Lucius' execution. Draco would have sworn that
nothing could stand between the Ministry and their determination to acquire the
Malfoy estates in the furore surrounding the trial, but here it was, written in
plain words on his solicitors' crested parchment, delivered by express owl. His
inheritance was his.

A house elf entered the study and bowed low, its nose brushing the carpet. "A
visitor, master," it squeaked and then Disapparated. 

Draco looked up.

Harry Potter stood in the doorway, shifting a bit from foot to foot as if
uncomfortable. He probably was, Draco reflected, thinking back to Potter's last
'visit' to the Manor. "Potter," he said, standing and walking out from behind
his desk. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Potter looked down at the floor before looking up to meet Draco's eyes. "Um,
I'm sorry about your dad."

Draco's eyebrows shot up, but he controlled his disbelief. "He made his
choices," he replied instead, "long before we were born. They could just as
easily have been the correct ones."

Potter's eyes flared with annoyance, but he also seemed to be determined to
remain civil. "I've brought something for you." He held out a vial filled with
a swirling, pearl-coloured mass.

Draco accepted it. The vial felt both warm and cold in his hand. 

"It's a memory. One of Snape's. I thought – well, I thought you had the right
to decide what to do with it."

"It's about me."

Potter nodded and blushed. "Um. Yeah. If it helps, I think it was really
special to him. He used it to make a Patronus."

Draco looked up sharply. "How do you know?"

"It's funny, but Patronus memories have a feel to them," Potter said. He
shrugged. "I don't know how to describe it, but there's a brightness to them
that I haven't noticed in other memories."

"Because of course, you've seen memories from so many people," Draco retorted.

"Actually, I have." Potter looked both defiant and distinctly uncomfortable. "I
entered a Pensieve for the first time in fourth year, and sort of accidentally
learned Legilimency in fifth. We've been using them a lot for the trials over
the past year," he added.

Draco wondered if Lucius' memories had been gathered and watched. Not that it
mattered, he supposed, but it still bothered him. Probably best not to know.

But now, he had a decision to make. There had been rumours that Potter had been
with Snape when he died, something about memories and Potter's mother. He
squashed a flare of jealousy before it could grow; after all, if he'd been
there he wouldn't have been able to change anything, if reports were true. And
he'd have the memory of Snape really dying, no chance of recovery, which he
most definitely did not want. "How many people have seen this one?"

"Just me," Potter said. "I separated it from the others before I gave the rest
to the Ministry. I wanted to prove that Snape was on the side of the Light all
along. But some of the memories were, well, personal. I kept those."

"I knew he was on Dumbledore's side," Draco said. "I found out in seventh
year."

"And you didn't tell anyone?" Potter seemed to realise how rude the question
was. "Sorry, I didn't mean –"

"Yes, you did. And you'd be right." Draco met Potter's eyes. "I had my
reasons."

Potter seemed to search his face. He finally nodded. "He was a great man."

"He was an arrogant, misanthropic bastard," Draco said, deliberately not
thinking of Snape's kisses or of his face in the throes of orgasm. "But you're
right, he was a great man."

"I'm sorry that I didn't know him better. But I'm trying to make things right
for him now," Potter said quietly.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "'Trying to make things right'," he repeated. "As in
making sure that the people he held – 'special', I think you said – are taken
care of?"

Potter looked down and shrugged. "I'm just trying to do what's right. That's
all. And I wanted you to have that," he nodded at the vial. "I'd better be
going."

"I'll see you out," Draco said. 

They walked together, silent, to the front door. Draco opened it, but put his
hand out before Potter could leave. "Wait. I – thank you, Potter," he
whispered. "Just one thing."

"Yeah?"

Memories flooded his mind: of a perfect autumn day, crisp and clear, a day for
flying; of a wall stained with semen; of a strange, gentle look. "The memory.
Is it..? Am I wearing Quidditch robes?" His face was blazing, he could tell,
but he needed to know.

Potter shifted uncomfortably, his face equally bright. "Um, yeah."

"Right. Thanks. Again."

Potter nodded and left. Draco closed the door behind him.

He stood in the entryway and looked at the vial he held. Before he could change
his mind, he uncorked it and upended it over the marble floor. The mass flowed
smoothly, falling into the floor with a last flare before it disappeared. Draco
thought of a black robe, whirling with heavy grace, and swallowed hard. 

He had his memories. They'd have to be enough. He wouldn't raid Snape's.

"Rest in peace," he whispered.

He had an appointment to make with his solicitors. Taking a deep breath, he
turned and headed to his study and the waiting owl.

                                     ~fin~
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