Intermezzo
Severus and Draco entered Severus's rooms in silence. There was no question that Draco might go somewhere else.
Draco had given his testimony, but there was still much more to go, and Draco didn't want to stay. His father looked himself again - cool, arrogant, beautiful, intelligent. It was excruciating to watch him and he couldn't shake the image of Lucius in the embrace of a Dementor, it was. . . Severus had not been called. Someone had tried to explain it to Draco, possibly Lupin, who always seemed to be everywhere right now, but it came down to him not being an appealling witness for either side.
Draco could envy that, but he vaguely recalled that Severus had been where he was before. Had done what he'd done today.
"Except not to my father, Draco," Severus said, reaching an arm around Draco's arms and chest, pulling him close and leaning his cheek against Draco's hair, which he'd left loose today. The tight groomed look seemed like a tribute to his father, and he couldn't bear the hypocrisy.
Severus pulled him to the bed, and Draco went with him, happily allowing himself to be undressed. Lucius in the courtroom, giving him a cool and almost proud smile as he stepped down from damning him to a living death; Lucius under house arrest, smelling of wine and gripping his jaw.
Severus was stroking his back through his shirt as he pulled the covers over them. "What do you want, Draco?"
"Everything," Draco whispered. He turned in Severus's arms and began to kiss the man's neck between the open collar of his white shirt. He put a hand tentatively to Snape's stomach between the open tails of the shirt. It was soft, slightly hairy, and warm - so different from Lucius, all cool thin surfaces.
"Fuck me?" Draco said into the warmth and cotton. "Please. Now."
Severus moved a hand from Draco's back down to the curve of his buttocks and stroked the smooth skin there, stroking along the downy upper thighs and around to run his fingers along Draco's just stirring prick.
Draco sighed and threw an arm around Severus's neck, beginning to undo the buttons on his shirt with the other hand and rocking lightly into the fist that stroked a little more firmly as he began to respond.
Lucius never. . . Severus stopped.
"I'm sorry," Draco said. "I don't mean to; I don't want to."
Severus nodded and then realised Draco couldn't see him. "I understand that, but I can't. . ."
"You hate to be reminded, it's. . . I know how sick it is." There was a long pause and he conceded, "At one level."
Draco missed his father. It was a terrible thing to do, in the arms of the man he loved, he really did love, and who would, who could care for him; but he did, and it cut.
* * *
Dumbledore welcomed Draco cheerfully, congratulating him warmly on his strength and maturity. He clearly went to offer him tea and then changed the offer to anything he would like to drink, or eat.
Draco felt like he might be ill. He should have let Severus come. Severus had wanted to come.
"Have you heard of a decision?" the Headmaster asked, when Draco had obviously hesitated for longer than was appropriate.
"No, but I don't think there is any doubt. My father was not in any doubt when I saw him in London yesterday." He paused and Dumbledore merely nodded. "I wanted to thank you for that. It was difficult, but I did really need to see him."
"Of course, of course." The Headmaster broke his biscuit into two then three pieces, scattering sugar. Lifting one piece he said, "And is there something else you need from me, Draco?"
Draco hesitated.
"If there is something else it's probably best that you just tell me. I will tell you honestly, Draco, I find you a difficult boy to predict, or I would offer you what I think you might need now. Have you spoken with your mother?"
Draco shook his head. "She owled me to say she is staying abroad. I don't think it is any great blow to Narcissa; not as one might expect anyway."
"You sound quite a lot like your father, you know."
Draco had a clear sense that he probably ought to be insulted, but he wasn't. "Is there any way my father can be kept out of Azkaban," he said hurriedly. "Deprived of his magic, kept in a safe room like the one where he was in London, kept away somehow." He stopped, finally catching Dumbledore's expression. "Is there anything?"
"My dear boy, I don't know."
"If you don't know, you could find out."
"I can ask, but Draco, it's a huge risk, and not only to yourself. I very much doubt. . ."
Draco stood. "Would you at least ask? Please." Taking a breath he reached out and touched the old wizard's hand where it lay on the table, still crumbed with sugar and cool to the touch with skin that folded and slipped across the bony hand. "Please."
The Headmaster pulled his hand away and stood, coming around the desk and putting a hand on Draco's arm as he led him to the door. "I will see what I can discover. I can't promise anything more, Draco. Do you understand?"
"I do."
* * *
From his position at the foot of the stairs, Draco waited in the invisibility cloak Severus had given to him for this purpose. He didn't know where it had come from, but he had the distinct impression it might have been borrowed, with or without his consent, from Harry Potter. It smelled of Potter, or something like that. It was very Potter-y. Severus have him a stern look from across the corridor, or the body Severus was wearing did. It was tall, dark-skinned, and wore an earring. Draco actually found it kind of appealling. Severus scowled at him.
When the decision had been handed down Lucius might have expected a short time in which to arrange what remained of his affairs. It was traditional, Draco had been told, in cases involving wizards of high social standing, and the protocols for moving the prisoner to Azkaban were very strictly defined and apparently proof against any interference. Severus and Draco hoped that by encouraging Dumbledore to rush the transfer perhaps a small hole might appear. They were still only hopeful, but Severus had one advantage to draw on.
Footsteps could be heard at some distance, and at the juncture of the corridors where Draco was concealed, the two Aurors paused with Lucius between them.
"What's that?" one of them said.
"I don't sense anything," the other replied.
"Definitely something," the shorter man said, crossing towards Draco just as Severus stepped out. "Kingsley?" he said, but happily, stepping forward, "what are you doing here?"
As Severus stunned the guard Draco ran to his father, who had already taken a large stride in the direction of escape. The second Auror was just standing there, eyes to the floor. Draco threw off the hood.
"Draco?" Lucius said, taking a step back and putting a hand on the wall as if he needed steadying. Severus came up behind Draco, passing the silent Auror with a significant look.
"We're sending you away, Father," Draco said. "It's a safe house, no magic, well guarded, people Severus knows, but not Azkaban."
Lucius looked up at the tall black man and, clearly recognising something as Snape, pulled his mouth into a sneer.
"Ainsley here will be taking you, as he also has a need to escape." Ainsley conspicuously looked away.
"Really?" Lucius said, with obvious contempt.
"But you have to agree to Accipio, so he will be safe," Draco added.
"I think not."
"It's that or the Dementors, Father. You don't want that."
"So I can elect to stay here while your victim recovers and report you all, then?" Ainsley began to pay definite attention at that, looking at Severus in panic.
"No," Severus said, "You don't have that choice."
Lucius drew himself up in angry grace against Severus's illusionary bulk just as Ainsley said, "We really have to go now."
"It's in Spain, Lucius," Draco said, almost hysterically. "You love Spain," he added quietly, as they all looked at him.
There was a short but incredibly strange silence, and Lucius said, "All right."
With an audible sigh Ainsley drew his wand and Severus moved away, drawing Draco after him, but Lucius caught the boy's other arm. "Come with me then," he said.
"No," Draco said, twisting his arm free. "I won't. But I want you to be safe."
Lucius gave them a bitter smile. "Voldemort will kill you both," he said, as the wand fell.
* * *
Draco came out of the bathroom entirely naked and tossed himself back on the bed, amidst the books he'd left scattered there. Severus watched him from the chair near the empty fire. It was warm, but Draco's naked bottom and flailing legs, the pale slope of his back, fine angle of his shoulders, the curling damp hair - it was all rather more than a man could work through, especially when it was Attivus. Workmanlike, but hardly exciting.
Severus approached the bed before he felt Draco's smile.
"You could have just asked," Severus said.
Draco rolled over and flared his legs out to even more indecently expose himself. His half-hard prick moved very slightly over the pale curls between his legs. Draco licked his lips and watched Severus look at him. He stroked a hand softly across the pages of one of the books near his hip.
"You want me, then?"
Severus ran a hand up Draco's leg and sat on the bed. "Evidently." Draco smiled. "Unsurprisingly."
"Can we try again, then?" Draco said, sitting up to put his hand to the belt on Severus's trousers.
"All right," Severus said, a little roughly, unbuttoning his shirt.
Draco watched him with pleasure, with anticipation, and grew hard under Severus's hot eyes sweeping over him. He put a hand to his own cock and stroked it softly watching, thinking of Snape's fingers in him - oh, Snape's tongue in him, that time - Snape's strong hands on his stomach holding upright while he was fucked.
There was nothing of Lucius in that. Draco's mind stuttered over one of the things that he desperately didn't want to think.
Severus pulled him close and stroked his back, feeling surreally like he was watching someone else occupy and use his body. He wrapped a hand round Draco's prick and coaxed it back to hardness, bent to taste Draco's hardening nipple, to lick across his firm stomach.
He smoothly stroked Draco, unexpectedly thrilled by real this felt, so far from the impossibility of the sex scenes they'd been able to enjoy in the other space, where Draco's thoughts didn't intervene. Despite the days passing, despite their comfort with these new arrangements, Severus couldn't help feeling that none of the incredibly passionate sex they shared, almost everyday, really happened, however intense it felt.
Beginning to thrust into Severus's hand and grasp at his shoulder, the desperation for it not to matter this time, for the memories not to be in the way, echoed and amplified between them, and Severus faltered.
"Don't stop," Draco said, but Severus already was. "Don't think I'm. . . don't think I'm his."
"Merlin, that's not it," Severus said, but he found it difficult to find the words that would explain what it was. That he hated Draco's pain and, however much he was surprised by it himself, wouldn't and didn't want to play games with it or bring it into their bed. And even without the sex it was already theirs.
He'd hesitated too long and Draco pulled himself from the bed. Severus couldn't bring himself to force him back and make him talk about it, and he let him go.
He felt the pain, the fear Severus found him unclean, didn't really want him, the confusion over whether he was and would always be second to Lucius in Draco's heart. All familiar now, all aching through him as Draco locked himself in the bathroom and scolded himself into not crying. But sometimes it was difficult to be sure none of those thoughts were his own these days.
Hours later, he knew, they would sleep and find themselves in the rich quiet of that other world, where he would unfold and rebuild Draco with his lips and his tongue, defying what remained of the line between them with the pleasure they couldn't have here.
THE END
Severus and Draco entered Severus's rooms in silence. There was no question that Draco might go somewhere else.
Draco had given his testimony, but there was still much more to go, and Draco didn't want to stay. His father looked himself again - cool, arrogant, beautiful, intelligent. It was excruciating to watch him and he couldn't shake the image of Lucius in the embrace of a Dementor, it was. . . Severus had not been called. Someone had tried to explain it to Draco, possibly Lupin, who always seemed to be everywhere right now, but it came down to him not being an appealling witness for either side.
Draco could envy that, but he vaguely recalled that Severus had been where he was before. Had done what he'd done today.
"Except not to my father, Draco," Severus said, reaching an arm around Draco's arms and chest, pulling him close and leaning his cheek against Draco's hair, which he'd left loose today. The tight groomed look seemed like a tribute to his father, and he couldn't bear the hypocrisy.
Severus pulled him to the bed, and Draco went with him, happily allowing himself to be undressed. Lucius in the courtroom, giving him a cool and almost proud smile as he stepped down from damning him to a living death; Lucius under house arrest, smelling of wine and gripping his jaw.
Severus was stroking his back through his shirt as he pulled the covers over them. "What do you want, Draco?"
"Everything," Draco whispered. He turned in Severus's arms and began to kiss the man's neck between the open collar of his white shirt. He put a hand tentatively to Snape's stomach between the open tails of the shirt. It was soft, slightly hairy, and warm - so different from Lucius, all cool thin surfaces.
"Fuck me?" Draco said into the warmth and cotton. "Please. Now."
Severus moved a hand from Draco's back down to the curve of his buttocks and stroked the smooth skin there, stroking along the downy upper thighs and around to run his fingers along Draco's just stirring prick.
Draco sighed and threw an arm around Severus's neck, beginning to undo the buttons on his shirt with the other hand and rocking lightly into the fist that stroked a little more firmly as he began to respond.
Lucius never. . . Severus stopped.
"I'm sorry," Draco said. "I don't mean to; I don't want to."
Severus nodded and then realised Draco couldn't see him. "I understand that, but I can't. . ."
"You hate to be reminded, it's. . . I know how sick it is." There was a long pause and he conceded, "At one level."
Draco missed his father. It was a terrible thing to do, in the arms of the man he loved, he really did love, and who would, who could care for him; but he did, and it cut.
* * *
Dumbledore welcomed Draco cheerfully, congratulating him warmly on his strength and maturity. He clearly went to offer him tea and then changed the offer to anything he would like to drink, or eat.
Draco felt like he might be ill. He should have let Severus come. Severus had wanted to come.
"Have you heard of a decision?" the Headmaster asked, when Draco had obviously hesitated for longer than was appropriate.
"No, but I don't think there is any doubt. My father was not in any doubt when I saw him in London yesterday." He paused and Dumbledore merely nodded. "I wanted to thank you for that. It was difficult, but I did really need to see him."
"Of course, of course." The Headmaster broke his biscuit into two then three pieces, scattering sugar. Lifting one piece he said, "And is there something else you need from me, Draco?"
Draco hesitated.
"If there is something else it's probably best that you just tell me. I will tell you honestly, Draco, I find you a difficult boy to predict, or I would offer you what I think you might need now. Have you spoken with your mother?"
Draco shook his head. "She owled me to say she is staying abroad. I don't think it is any great blow to Narcissa; not as one might expect anyway."
"You sound quite a lot like your father, you know."
Draco had a clear sense that he probably ought to be insulted, but he wasn't. "Is there any way my father can be kept out of Azkaban," he said hurriedly. "Deprived of his magic, kept in a safe room like the one where he was in London, kept away somehow." He stopped, finally catching Dumbledore's expression. "Is there anything?"
"My dear boy, I don't know."
"If you don't know, you could find out."
"I can ask, but Draco, it's a huge risk, and not only to yourself. I very much doubt. . ."
Draco stood. "Would you at least ask? Please." Taking a breath he reached out and touched the old wizard's hand where it lay on the table, still crumbed with sugar and cool to the touch with skin that folded and slipped across the bony hand. "Please."
The Headmaster pulled his hand away and stood, coming around the desk and putting a hand on Draco's arm as he led him to the door. "I will see what I can discover. I can't promise anything more, Draco. Do you understand?"
"I do."
* * *
From his position at the foot of the stairs, Draco waited in the invisibility cloak Severus had given to him for this purpose. He didn't know where it had come from, but he had the distinct impression it might have been borrowed, with or without his consent, from Harry Potter. It smelled of Potter, or something like that. It was very Potter-y. Severus have him a stern look from across the corridor, or the body Severus was wearing did. It was tall, dark-skinned, and wore an earring. Draco actually found it kind of appealling. Severus scowled at him.
When the decision had been handed down Lucius might have expected a short time in which to arrange what remained of his affairs. It was traditional, Draco had been told, in cases involving wizards of high social standing, and the protocols for moving the prisoner to Azkaban were very strictly defined and apparently proof against any interference. Severus and Draco hoped that by encouraging Dumbledore to rush the transfer perhaps a small hole might appear. They were still only hopeful, but Severus had one advantage to draw on.
Footsteps could be heard at some distance, and at the juncture of the corridors where Draco was concealed, the two Aurors paused with Lucius between them.
"What's that?" one of them said.
"I don't sense anything," the other replied.
"Definitely something," the shorter man said, crossing towards Draco just as Severus stepped out. "Kingsley?" he said, but happily, stepping forward, "what are you doing here?"
As Severus stunned the guard Draco ran to his father, who had already taken a large stride in the direction of escape. The second Auror was just standing there, eyes to the floor. Draco threw off the hood.
"Draco?" Lucius said, taking a step back and putting a hand on the wall as if he needed steadying. Severus came up behind Draco, passing the silent Auror with a significant look.
"We're sending you away, Father," Draco said. "It's a safe house, no magic, well guarded, people Severus knows, but not Azkaban."
Lucius looked up at the tall black man and, clearly recognising something as Snape, pulled his mouth into a sneer.
"Ainsley here will be taking you, as he also has a need to escape." Ainsley conspicuously looked away.
"Really?" Lucius said, with obvious contempt.
"But you have to agree to Accipio, so he will be safe," Draco added.
"I think not."
"It's that or the Dementors, Father. You don't want that."
"So I can elect to stay here while your victim recovers and report you all, then?" Ainsley began to pay definite attention at that, looking at Severus in panic.
"No," Severus said, "You don't have that choice."
Lucius drew himself up in angry grace against Severus's illusionary bulk just as Ainsley said, "We really have to go now."
"It's in Spain, Lucius," Draco said, almost hysterically. "You love Spain," he added quietly, as they all looked at him.
There was a short but incredibly strange silence, and Lucius said, "All right."
With an audible sigh Ainsley drew his wand and Severus moved away, drawing Draco after him, but Lucius caught the boy's other arm. "Come with me then," he said.
"No," Draco said, twisting his arm free. "I won't. But I want you to be safe."
Lucius gave them a bitter smile. "Voldemort will kill you both," he said, as the wand fell.
* * *
Draco came out of the bathroom entirely naked and tossed himself back on the bed, amidst the books he'd left scattered there. Severus watched him from the chair near the empty fire. It was warm, but Draco's naked bottom and flailing legs, the pale slope of his back, fine angle of his shoulders, the curling damp hair - it was all rather more than a man could work through, especially when it was Attivus. Workmanlike, but hardly exciting.
Severus approached the bed before he felt Draco's smile.
"You could have just asked," Severus said.
Draco rolled over and flared his legs out to even more indecently expose himself. His half-hard prick moved very slightly over the pale curls between his legs. Draco licked his lips and watched Severus look at him. He stroked a hand softly across the pages of one of the books near his hip.
"You want me, then?"
Severus ran a hand up Draco's leg and sat on the bed. "Evidently." Draco smiled. "Unsurprisingly."
"Can we try again, then?" Draco said, sitting up to put his hand to the belt on Severus's trousers.
"All right," Severus said, a little roughly, unbuttoning his shirt.
Draco watched him with pleasure, with anticipation, and grew hard under Severus's hot eyes sweeping over him. He put a hand to his own cock and stroked it softly watching, thinking of Snape's fingers in him - oh, Snape's tongue in him, that time - Snape's strong hands on his stomach holding upright while he was fucked.
There was nothing of Lucius in that. Draco's mind stuttered over one of the things that he desperately didn't want to think.
Severus pulled him close and stroked his back, feeling surreally like he was watching someone else occupy and use his body. He wrapped a hand round Draco's prick and coaxed it back to hardness, bent to taste Draco's hardening nipple, to lick across his firm stomach.
He smoothly stroked Draco, unexpectedly thrilled by real this felt, so far from the impossibility of the sex scenes they'd been able to enjoy in the other space, where Draco's thoughts didn't intervene. Despite the days passing, despite their comfort with these new arrangements, Severus couldn't help feeling that none of the incredibly passionate sex they shared, almost everyday, really happened, however intense it felt.
Beginning to thrust into Severus's hand and grasp at his shoulder, the desperation for it not to matter this time, for the memories not to be in the way, echoed and amplified between them, and Severus faltered.
"Don't stop," Draco said, but Severus already was. "Don't think I'm. . . don't think I'm his."
"Merlin, that's not it," Severus said, but he found it difficult to find the words that would explain what it was. That he hated Draco's pain and, however much he was surprised by it himself, wouldn't and didn't want to play games with it or bring it into their bed. And even without the sex it was already theirs.
He'd hesitated too long and Draco pulled himself from the bed. Severus couldn't bring himself to force him back and make him talk about it, and he let him go.
He felt the pain, the fear Severus found him unclean, didn't really want him, the confusion over whether he was and would always be second to Lucius in Draco's heart. All familiar now, all aching through him as Draco locked himself in the bathroom and scolded himself into not crying. But sometimes it was difficult to be sure none of those thoughts were his own these days.
Hours later, he knew, they would sleep and find themselves in the rich quiet of that other world, where he would unfold and rebuild Draco with his lips and his tongue, defying what remained of the line between them with the pleasure they couldn't have here.
THE END