Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Other Side of the Tracks	By : Ataraxia Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Draco Views: 3044 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise and do not profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
PART II

Draco smoothes the front of the uniform and hangs it primly in the closet of the guest room. Gently, he fingers the red crowns on the epaulettes, an insignia he once longed for on his own uniform. Not that he isn't proud of the two golden pips that adorn the shoulders of his own jacket, but there's something about the red crown that makes him smile. For Queen and country, and all that, he supposes.

He and Blaise have spent the whole day cleaning their small flat so it's fit for a Major's inspection. After a month as an in-patient in rehab, Snape is ready to leave. He can't go home, as he has no place to call his own except the small cove he had made for himself in the alley, so Blaise and Draco offer to take him in. His reluctance is obvious. He doesn't want the men who were once his subordinates to see him in this state, to see him weakened and in need of assistance.

Draco is rubbing the last corner of the dining table with a lemon-scented cleaner as the door to the flat creaks open.

"Honey, I'm home!" Blaise calls jokingly from the doorway. There's really no need to announce his arrival, as the flat is so small there's no place in it where one cannot hear the front door.

Draco drops his cloth and strides over to the entrance, anticipating the need to help Snape with his bags.

Of course, he has none.

The man stands in the doorway, wearing a worn pair of jeans and threadbare jumper that Draco can only assume were purchased from a second-hand shop. In the month he's been in rehab, Snape has put on a bit of weight, but he still looks terribly emaciated.

His long, black hair is tied neatly at the nape of his neck. The length of Snape's hair still surprises Draco, as he is used to seeing the Major with a buzz-cut no longer than a finger's breadth. How many years has it taken for the man to grow a head of hair that brushes his shoulders?

Well, the answer would obviously be 'five' wouldn't it? For it has been five years since the mission ended and they were all sent home to live life as civilians.

"Welcome home," he greets Snape with a tentative smile.

Snape hesitates before crossing the threshold into the small flat, and returning a small nod of his head.

"Your hospitality is greatly appreciated," he murmurs. He has always spoken formally, even during the war. His comrades-in-arms all cursed like sailors, while he remained composed and rigid. Draco is not surprised to see it is one of the few behaviours the man has kept.

Blaise toes off his shoes quickly, whereas Snape crouches to untie his laces and line his long shoes as primly as possible by the welcome mat. There are holes in his socks, and he calmly tries to rearrange the fabric so that his toes do not poke through.

Draco and Blaise politely pretend not to notice.

They escort the man to his room, where the bed is made neatly and a small stack of books rest on thebedside table. Snape stands stiffly in front of the dresser, carefully avoiding the mirror that hangs above it. Draco eyes the man's reflection from the doorway, noting with satisfaction that his skin has begun to clear, and is returning to the smooth, white pallor that he and Blaise are so familiar with.

"This is your room," Blaise says jovially. "I hope you don't mind the yellow bed linens, but I always like a little cheer." Blaise reaches out and grabs the man's hand to pull him out into the corridor. "Here's the second bedroom," he announces, swinging the door open so Snape can see the double bed that's crammed into the small space. "Down the hall is the loo. The handle sticks a bit on the toilet, so you need to lift it back up when you're done flushing."

Blaise neglects to mention that the tap drips noisily all night, and that the pipes creak and groan first thing in the morning, but Draco knows that Snape will learn this soon enough, and there's no point in putting him off already.

Snape is shown the small, galley kitchen and the dining room with its battered, brass chandelier. The sitting area is comfortable, with two worn couches facing a small hearth. Above the mantle is a wall-mounted flat-screen telly that Blaise won in a raffle. It is the only thing in the flat of any real value.

Draco knows the flat is unimpressive, but it's cozy and it's home. He hesitates before looking at Snape, unsure what reaction he expects the man to have of the accommodations.

Snape's lips are set in a thin line as his fingers trace the worn arm of the chesterfield, and he promptly lowers himself onto it with a grateful sigh. Draco smiles.

SSDMBZ

At dinner (which Blaise tried his hardest not to bollix up) Snape chews quietly and keeps to himself. Draco and Blaise fill the silence with their usual banter and laughter, though at a slightly lower volume so as to not bother their new flatmate.

Mid-chew, Snape raises his head and regards the two men curiously.

"This is a two-bedroom flat," he notes.

Blaise nods, his mouth too full of cod to answer.

"Well, then," Snape continues, "where do you both sleep?"

Draco and Blaise exchange a quick look. Blaise is smiling, but Draco feels slightly awkward about the whole situation.

Snape gives them a knowing look before saying something quietly to himself. Draco thinks it's 'I see' but can't be totally certain.

The truth is, Blaise and Draco had their own rooms before that day, though they often found themselves in each other's. If not for the occasional round of comfort sex, the love that they have for each other could almost be called familial, or brotherly. The two did not care to pursue romantic endeavours outside the home, as being soldiers came with certain heterosexual expectations. Alone in their flat, however, they were able to find solace and comfort in each other, whether intertwined together on the sofa or pressed up against the kitchen table, sweaty and fucking. Despite enjoying each other's company, they always felt a relationship lacked something.

Draco wishes he could explain this to Snape, because for some reason it seems important that he do so, but the man has turned his face back to his plate of cod and sprouts and is once again focused on spearing a piece of flaky, white fish on the bent tines of his fork.

Draco supposes there will be time to explain everything later.

Later that evening, they watch the football match on the telly, sipping cheap lager from cans in the comfort of the sitting room. Snape's feet, now clad in a hole-free pair of Blaise's socks, are propped up on the battered coffee table.

Draco and Blaise both notice the tremor in the older man's hands as he raises his can of lemonade (he's off lager) to his lips and swallows the cool liquid down. His Adam's apple bobs with each gulp, making Draco feel very aware of the other man's masculinity. Not that he hadn't noticed it before, of course. In the military, one was quickly able to discern the men from the boys, and the women from the girls. He figures it must be a survival mechanism.

The empty can is lowered from Snape's lips, its hollowness resounding as he sets it on the table. He hesitates before excusing himself and retiring for the evening. As an afterthought, he turns to retrieve the empty can, takes it to the kitchen, and quietly drops it into the bin.

After an hour, the screams of the cheering football fans on the telly start to mingle with a new sound coming from within the flat.

Blaise raises his head from Malfoy's lap and peers into his friend's steely-grey eyes.

"Do you suppose he's alright?" he asks, craning his head to discern the nature of the noise coming from his old room.

Draco pauses, his hand hovering above Blaise's head. He'd been about to knead his fingers into the short, tight curls on his head. "I'm not sure, should we check?" he asks. He worries about Snape not having enough privacy, though, and is hesitant to knock on the door.

Blaise purses his lips in concern. "It sounds like he's crying, Draco. He might be suffering withdrawal symptoms."

A shudder runs though Draco's body as he stops to consider it. He and Blaise did not witness the very worst of the man's rehab, but they knew what to expect. His nerves would feel like they were on fire, his bones would ache as if broken, and headaches and nausea would plague him, possibly even for months after he was clean.

Lifting Blaise's head off his lap, Draco goes to kitchen to fill a glass with cool water, and to retrieve a half-empty bottle of Aspirin from the cupboard beside the stove.

He takes a deep breath before knocking gently on Snape's door.

"Sir?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you alright, Sir? I've brought you some Aspirin."

A mumbled 'go away' is all he gets in reply, but the sobs, for now, seem to have abated.

Draco struggles with what to do next. "I'll leave it outside your door then, Sir." Gently, he places the glass of water and pill bottle on the floor and walks away, to the room he now shares with Blaise.

SSDMBZ

The steady drip of water from the leaky faucet is not what wakes Draco this evening. It has been a week since Snape has moved in, and for the first time since the football game, Draco hears quiet sobs coming from Blaise's old room.

Gently peeling his bedmate's naked leg from his waist, Draco creeps from their room and down the hall to stand outside the Major's door.

The sobs are muffled, and Draco imagines the pillow flattened and mashed in Snape's grip. Cautiously, he slides down the wall to sit by the door, keeping vigil over his charge. It seems only fair that he spend a sleepless night watching over Snape, as he knows Snape has done so many times for him.

Clutching his knees to his chest for warmth, Draco rocks himself, silently praying for the sobs to quiet, and for the tortured man in his guest bed to find some semblance of peace, even if only for tonight.

The sobs do slow, eventually, but he can still hear the ragged breathing coming from the other side of the door. Finally the breathing slows and quiets, and both men fall asleep.

It is many a night afterwards that Draco wakes with the imprint of the doorframe on his spine. But if Blaise notices the absence in their newly-shared bed, he says nothing.

This pattern continues for some time, each night the sounds from Snape's room diminishing more and more, until a time, three weeks later, when Draco stops hearing them at all.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Other Side of the Tracks