Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Erotes	By : Bickymonster Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 70634 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 19
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any concepts or characters associated with it. I am not making any money from this this story

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
AN: Chapter 24; Took me a while to get this chapter to a standard I was happy with, but here is finally. Sorry about the longer than usual wait. Also please do come and chat with me on facebook; where I will post updates on my progress. If you would like to be friends with me there, this is the link to my profile: http://www.facebook.com/pipa.bickymonster. Enjoy.
Warnings: Swearing, slash and Adult themes, sexual content. For full warnings see story description.
Thank you to my beta, AchillesTheGeek.

(Note: This is the updated edited version of the chapter. Updated 30/11/2015)

As he left his quarters, Severus felt like his thoughts were going in a thousand different directions all at once and, if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he couldn’t face the Dark Lord until he had some control of his own mind again.
This was the main reason he had decided to walk off the castle grounds and then apparate to Malfoy Manor from Hogsmeade Village, rather than just using the floo network to get outside of Hogwarts' wards. Severus had needed to buy himself some time, preferably time without any of the many meddlesome fools in his life breathing down his neck.
The look that had been on Lucius’ face when he left was doing its utmost to haunt him and Severus had to remind himself that the other man was safely behind the wards of his quarters, which he had doubled as he was leaving, as well as those of the castle. There was no way that Malfoy Senior was going anywhere, whether by the man's own choice or anyone else’s.
Severus steeled himself as he strode through Hogwarts castle, knowing that he didn't have time to waste on thoughts of Lucius at the moment, and focused on working through the myriad of emotions that were bouncing around inside his skull.
Panic; it would not be safe to let the Dark Lord see such an emotion in him, and so he would definitely have to do his best to file it away in a remote location of his brain for later.
Confusion; he wished he had time to speak with Draco and Potter before leaving, but that was not to be, but he reasoned that if he could convince the Dark Lord that the news about the young couple had been a surprise to him too, then his own ignorance might be useful.
Fear; much like the panic he felt, it was something he never wanted to let the Dark Lord see in him if possible; he was, however, hopeful that whatever plan he managed to pull together before facing Voldemort would help ease that, and that the rest could be passed off as reverence of the man's power.
Anger; this was mostly at Potter and Draco, and not something he was usually able to honestly feel, but they had royally screwed him this time. They had kept him in the dark about such a major decision and they were the reason he was now going to have to face the Dark Lord with no warning. At least anger at the pair of them would be welcomed by Voldemort.
'Great... Rain," he thought sarcastically as he stepped out into the grounds and felt the raindrops pelting down upon him; though he did morosely think it seemed appropriate. He quickly cast a spell that would shelter him from the worst of it, not wanting to arrive at Malfoy Manor looking like he had drowned.
He truly wished that Draco had trusted him enough to at least give him a little notice before the article’s release; it would have been much easier to face the Dark Lord if he had had a few days to plan. The depth of the interview, the careful wording, the pictures; it all pointed to a well thought-out and organised public reveal, and that just irked him.
It was a rather blatant mix of Slytherin cunning and selfishness and Gryffindor bravery and brashness; it was, he thought bitterly, very Potter and Draco. If he had had the time he would have taken a moment to berate himself for not having realised, much earlier, what a dangerous combination the pair of them made; as it happened, he had more pressing matters to deal with.
-#-
Dumbledore was heading along one of the innumerable corridors of his school, in the general direction of his office; he needed time to think on what Harry and Draco had done, to form some kind of plan and, perhaps most importantly, to calm himself down enough to keep from losing his temper with someone he really shouldn’t.
He glanced out of a row of windows as he passed; a small wry smile formed on his lips when he saw that the weather seemed to match his mood, it felt... right. The darkly-clad figure storming across the grounds at that moment, however, did not.
The Headmaster had a sinking feeling in his gut as he watched the man make his way towards the Hogwarts gates and he didn’t need to be able to see any more clearly, despite the current downpour, to know that it was his Potions Master. Nor did it take much thought to figure out Severus' likely destination.
“For Merlin’s sake,” the old man grumbled to himself. It seemed that today the Fates were really determined to screw him over. He send up prayers, to every higher power he had ever heard of, that Severus’ luck was going to swing in their favour, at least this once.
-#-
Lucius was pacing; it was an undignified expression of his anxieties that he would not normally have allowed himself but it wasn’t as though anyone was going to see. He was stuck in Severus’ quarters at Hogwarts and even if someone else had wanted to visit, he was fairly sure they wouldn’t stand a chance at getting through the wards.
And stuck really was the word, because he had tried to go after Severus the moment that the door had closed behind the Potions Master, wanting to keep him from having to face the Dark Lord; though admittedly Lucius hadn't been surprised to find himself unable to open the door and follow his lover.
He was momentarily stunned with the realisation that it had been the first time he had genuinely wanted out of his prison; what surprised him even more was that it had been out of a desire to stop Severus from answering the Dark Lord’s call, rather than for the purposes of his own escape.
Now, though, he felt helpless; it was as though he was adrift in his own isolated little world, unable to do anything but wait, while the rest of the world went on without him. He wanted to keep Severus safe and stop the man from making the terrible mistake of answering the Dark Lord’s summons, but he was entirely powerless to do, and hated that.
Lucius knew where he lay the blame for Severus's current predicament though, and in the wildness of his imagination, he wanted to string Potter up by his ankles and slit the brat's throat. The idea of watching the blood drain from the boy’s wretched body actually calmed him slightly, even though, in his rational mind, he knew he could never allow such a thing to happen. And Draco, oh how Lucius wanted to yell at his son.
Of course, he could do none of this; not even if he had had his freedom, he realised a bit bitterly. He knew how that Severus was far too determined to see the Dark Lord fall, and so murdering the Potter boy would cost him both Severus and Draco; not to mention likely earn him a one way ticket to Azkaban, and probably stain a perfectly good set of robes in the process.
Lucius had to wonder how he had lost so much control over his own life. He lived under Severus' control, in the man's rooms, behind his wards, and it was apparent that he had lost his sway over his own son. He was coming to realise, the hard way, that making any demands of Draco was no longer particularly effective, probably even less so if done with a raised voice.
Draco had fallen in love and was determinedly making his own way in the world, and Lucius knew it. Salazar, they all knew it and now that Draco and Potter were this united front, a family unit, there was no stopping them; the cleverly orchestrated announcement that had been delivered directly into the hands of the Wizarding public was evidence enough of that.
Lucius paused in his pacing, his eyes drifting to Severus' well stocked drinks trolley, and debating with himself for a moment over whether breakfast time really was too early to start drinking. 'Probably not on days like this,' he decided; it wasn’t like he had anywhere to be.
He poured himself a generous portion of Severus’ finest and definitely most expensive brandy, humming in approval as he took a sip. It was with grace and a calm demeanour that he sat down in one of the large, high-backed armchairs in the living area, taking his newly filled glass with him.
Half a glass later, and he found that he at least felt slightly more like himself, even if the rest of the world insisted on crumbling into insanity around him. He took another long sip from the glass in his hand and, with great effort, focused on the smooth, warming liquid that had rather delightful hints of cherry; the brandy, at least, didn’t seem to be actively taking steps to screw up the life he had spent the last several decades building.
-#-
Severus had, when he had reached Hogsmeade, momentarily considered heeding Lucius' words and ignoring the Dark Lord's summons, returning to Lucius instead; however, the ache in his arm from where the mark had burned was a physical reminder of what was at stake, and how important his role was, and so he had apparated to the manor house in Wiltshire.
The corridors of the old and large building were much as they had ever been, though filled with the Dark Lords many Death Eaters now and he was aware of the nervous glances that some of the residents were giving him; that the place had remained so unchanged, despite its recent unauthorised shift in ownership, disturbed him. He just hoped he would live long enough to see the manor returned to Lucius, or else Draco, but whether either of them would ever wish to live there again was debatable. Severus knew he would never be able to consider the place as his home and it would be impossible to believe that Harry could either.
Now, however, was not the time to dwell on such thoughts, nor for any doubts of nervousness, and so Severus steeled his Occlumency shields but did not show any hesitation as he stepped into the large, familiar dining hall of Malfoy Manor.
“Ah, Severus,” the Dark Lord greeted, the hushed words slithering over his tongue. Voldemort was sat in a high backed chair near the head of the table, furthest from the door and, as much as Severus had grown to loathe the man, he had to admit the Dark Lord did have a way of making is presence felt in a room without doing a thing. “I grew concerned that you might have gotten... waylaid.”
“No, my Lord,” Severus assured him in a passive voice, bowing his head for a moment. “It simply took a short while to take my leave without raising unwanted questions.”
“You would not be so foolish as to try and hide from me, would you, Severus?” Voldemort asked; the playful way he toyed with the words belied the rage that the Potions Master could see in the blood red eyes.
“I am ever your loyal servant," Severus told him firmly without hesitation. "I have no reason, nor desire, to hide from you, my Lord,” he answered diplomatically; there was no need to make the inevitable any worse that it was already likely to be.
“So you say," Voldemort hissed, getting to his feet as he spoke and he seemed to glide across the room until he was no more than a few feet from the other man."And yet, Severus, you failed to inform me of Potter’s latest dalliances, of which I am sure you must have been aware,” the Dark Lord said, not even trying to hide the anger in his words now.
“I was not aware of either the Potter or Malfoy boys’ inheritances until I read the most informative Daily Prophet article,” Severus lied, tapping mentally at his Occlumency shields to ensure they would remain secure.
“SILENCE!” Voldemort bellowed impatiently before Severus could say anything else. “Surely you were aware of their... closeness,” the Dark Lord demanded in a dangerous hiss, a sneer of disgust on his face.
“Yes, my Lord, but...” Severus started, bowing his head again. There was no point even trying to deny that, everyone at Hogwarts had been aware and he would be caught in that lie far too easily; it was not worth the suffering and distrust that would inevitably bring upon him.
“You believe you can hide such things from your Master? Intend to deceive me?” Voldemort snarled out angrily. “Perhaps,” he suggested maliciously, “you care more for the Malfoy boy than for our cause?”
“No, my Lord,” Severus said, maintaining his calm and collected exterior with practiced skill. Though he strongly suspected that Voldemort was not actually listening to him any longer.
“Maybe I shall gift him to you upon our victory,” Voldemort mused with a disturbed and madly amused grin. The Dark Lord let out a string of hissed syllables that the Potions Master believed to be Parseltongue, a suspicion that seemed to be confirmed when Nagini approached and curl up around her master, raising her head to brush against his hand.
Severus said nothing, despite the disgust churning in his gut at what Voldemort was implying. Draco was close to a son to him in many ways, not that he was fool enough to let the Dark Lord find that out.
“You should remember your manners, Severus. You would not want me to think you ungrateful,” the Dark Lord mocked. “It is proper to give thanks for gifts offered. Though your apparent inability to provide me with information makes me wonder if we need to re-evaluate your usefulness as a spy," he went on, eyeing Severus with a sinister, pensive smirk.
It took a great deal for Severus to remain still, to allow himself to be perused by Voldemort's dangerous gaze. The large snake slithered around Severus' ankles, much to the apparent amusement of the Dark Lord, and when Nagini snapped playfully at his leg, Severus couldn't keep himself from flinching.
"Though, once digested by Nagini you would have little use for gifts of any kind,” Voldemort said with a fond twisted smile at his beloved snake who hissed her approval. “The Malfoy boy does have a pretty head; maybe I can gift you his head, Severus,” he added gleefully, as though this was one of his more brilliant ideas and he expected the Potions Master to think so too.
“I would have no use for such a gift, my Lord,” Severus said coldly and with renewed determination never to let the man so much as see Draco again, let alone get near him. “I had assumed, given that the knowledge of Potter and Malfoy’s relationship is widely known, and has not been treated as a secret within Hogwarts, that the news would have reached you through less valuable sources and was not worth risking my position as a spy over.”
There was just a dash of truth in his words, enough to hopefully keep the lie believable. Severus was genuinely surprised that word of the relationship had not reached Voldemort, even if Miss Parkinson and Misters Zabini, Goyle and Crabbe had shown remarkably Hufflepuff-like loyalty to Draco.
“This oversight, this false assumption, of yours,” Voldemort said as he walked around Severus, “you think you should be forgiven for it? That I should tolerate such failure?”
The sound of Voldemort’s robes trailing along the old wooden floor boards was easily heard in the hushed quiet of the room and, as Voldemort moved around behind him, it took a lot more mental strength than Severus would ever want to admit, to not turn around and keep the mad man within his sight. It was made even more difficult when he heard the harsh tones of a spell being cast and felt the sharp probe of Voldemort’s magic against his Occlumency shields.
Severus let him into his mind, quickly allowing him to see the pre-selected memories and thoughts that would back up his claims; others, however, he held back carefully and securely back behind an exquisitely constructed second shield, one that any wizard would have been proud of. It seemed that the Dark Lord was in a particularly malicious mood and the invasion into Severus’ thoughts was bordering on painful; the Potions Master did nothing to hide his suffering, in fact pushing it to the front of his mind knowing how it would please Voldemort’s sadistic tendencies.
“Ah, I do always so enjoy your mind, Severus,” the Dark Lord teased, as he came to stand in front of the Potions Master again. “So organised,” he praised, and yet it sounded mocking, as though Severus was little more than a silly child that amused him slightly.
“Thank you, my Lord,” Severus bit out coldly, feeling somewhat weary from the strength it had taken to maintain the barriers in his mind.
“Do you think you have earned forgiveness?” Voldemort asked, as he turned and made his way back towards his chair, Nagini following after him.
“I would not presume to make such a determination, my Lord,” Severus answered, sure that the older man would see through his evasive words but knowing that was no right answer to the Dark Lord's question.
Voldemort chuckled darkly and hissed words at Nagini, who appeared to be enjoying the joke as well; the revelation that the snake apparently had a sense of humour felt so incongruent to the situation that Severus almost let his careful facade slip.
“Such a diplomatic answer, such a way with words,” Voldemort said after a moment. “If I didn’t have more important uses for you, you would have made an excellent politician; though I suppose it is those same talents you use so deftly to keep the brilliant Albus Dumbledore fooled.”
“I am your loyal servant,” Severus said, echoing the words he had spoken earlier. “I do what I can for the cause.” He knew he had been lucky so far and that he was walking a narrow path, that the Dark Lord's temper would not hold much longer.
“Not quite loyal enough,” Voldemort hissed, all amusement draining in an instant and Severus knew that his apprehension was well founded. “Lord Voldemort does not forgive failure.”
Severus bowed his head but said nothing, knowing that there wasn't anything he could say; he had known he was not to be forgiven so easily, he had not been fooled by the banter. Voldemort just liked to play with his toys a bit before he tortured them.
“You will do better, Severus,” the Dark Lord commanded and Severus braced himself for what he knew to be coming. “Crucio.”
-#-
Dumbledore lowered himself into the large chair in his office with a heavy sigh. He was worried; a couple of hours was hardly the longest time that Voldemort had kept Severus but still it did not bode well.
It was surprisingly difficult to focus on the menial tasks that were required to keep the school running while the Potions Master was yet to return. He had even had to put up a notice cancelling the day's potions classes, which was bound to raise unwanted questions, not that the students were likely to figure out the true reasons behind it; they were far more likely to suggest that it was further evidence to back the ridiculous rumour of Snape’s vampirism.
“I am just trying to save wizarding kind,” Dumbledore told Fawkes, who was sat watching the headmaster from his perch “but how am I supposed to achieve such a feat with everyone acting on their own agenda?” he asked rhetorically, sounding exhausted.
He had hoped he would be able to get most of them through the war alive, including Harry, but that would require the boy to be ready to sacrifice himself, something that was less and less likely with each passing day. The boy was becoming frustratingly wilful, which probably shouldn’t have surprised Dumbledore given the boy's parents, but Harry had always been so... malleable; until Draco.
The old man leaned forward, resting his head upon the knuckles of steepled hands as he mulled over what he needed to do. Soon he would have to finish explaining to Harry, tell him of the full consequences of that fateful Halloween night all those years ago; he would have to explain to Harry why his death was essential.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. He felt old, too old to save the world again and he hated himself for having to condemn a young man, a boyfriend, a father-to-be, to his death. He had to remind himself that it was Voldemort’s doing, and there was no way around it; it was only matter of time until Harry understood that.
"Help..."
Dumbledore had no trouble recognising the voice, even as weak and feeble as it was, and was therefore unsurprised when he stood and turned towards its source, to find himself face to face with Severus Snape's silvery doe patronus.
“Lead the way,” Dumbledore commanded urgently. He promptly cast his own patronus, sending it off to inform Poppy that she would have guests soon.
The Headmaster's robes swirled around behind him as he made his way out of his office and quickly through the castle. Silently he cursed Voldemort for whatever damage the man had done to Severus this time; despite his mistakes, Severus had already suffered more than enough for a lifetime, in Dumbledore’s opinion.
He was genuinely worried what he would find when he reached Severus. It had been some time since the Potions Master had had to send for assistance in such a manner after returning from seeing Voldemort and the headmaster was not sure he remembered having heard the man’s voice as broken and fearful as it had sounded. Images of the worst began to play across his mind and he felt out with his magic for the school’s wards and shifted them enough to allow himself to apparate.
-#-
Severus was aware of pain... and water falling on his face... and cold settling into his whole body... but mostly pain.
A thought of Lily had let him cast the patronus, and he forced himself to speak to it, just enough to ensure the Headmaster would get his message.
His skull felt like it was split open and his whole body screamed with pain but all he could do was hope that help was close, that help was coming.
He was pretty sure he had apparated; to Hogsmeade, maybe. It might not have been a good idea, but it was too late to regret it now and at least he was away from the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters.
There had been laughter from Bellatrix as he half stumbled, half crawled down the drive way of Malfoy Manor. He had no idea how long it had taken him, but it had felt like years as the gravel had dug into his hands and knees, every movement causing his muscles to spasm painfully.
His head was spinning and when he tried to open his eyes, he was surprised his head hadn’t exploded, the pain was so great. He did have to take several slow, deep breaths to keep from emptying his stomach.
'Am I dying?' he wonder silently. If he was, he kind of wished that his body would just hurry up and get it over with; at least then he wouldn't have to bear this pain any longer.
It was difficult to think; the pain was making him nauseous and the dampness that kept slipping into his eyes and nose was distractingly uncomfortable; in contrast the small drops that fell past his lips were a comfort.
He was fairly sure he was lying on his back. The cold stone beneath him was chilling his shoulders and arse, which would probably have earned his disgust and made him uncomfortable enough to move, if only the rest of him wasn’t hurting so very much.
Lucius had been right, he shouldn’t have gone. Voldemort had been so delighted to have finally made Severus Snape plead for death. He had desperately wanted an end to it all, and the Dark Lord had called it mercy when his life was spared.
Snape was angry, furious and desired revenge, but that would have to wait till there was at least one part of his body that wasn’t in complete agony.
Voices; he could hear the loudest whispers he had ever heard. He tried to understand what they were saying, but the pounding in his head made the words unintelligible. The strain was just too much for his battered body, and so he embraced the unconsciousness that consumed him.
-#-
As Dumbledore apparated onto the main street in Hogsmeade, there were, despite the bad weather, quite a few people gathering in the street talking in hushed panicked voices. He headed straight for them; he already had a strong suspicion what it was that had them all gathered there and as he moved closer he could hear what some of them were saying.
“Is he dead?”
“We should call someone...”
“Check his pulse...”
“MOVE!” Dumbledore bellowed commandingly and the crowds parted as they stepped back and allowed the Headmaster a full view of the darkly clad man sprawled on the cobblestones. He was thankful to see that Severus was breathing, though only just and he knew he needed to act quickly.
The Headmaster levitated the unconscious body of Severus into his arms. With a non-verbal spell and, without a word to anyone, he apparated them directly to the medical wing, slamming the wards closed tightly behind him.
“Over here, Albus,” Madam Pomfrey said quickly, concern in her voice but as professional as ever and ready to help anyone in need. “Lay him down here,” she instructed, gesturing to a bed she had cleared of fussy linens.
“Cruciatus curse, I would assume, Poppy,” Dumbledore said sorrowfully as he placed the unconscious Potions Master down where she had indicated.
Severus looked so small and vulnerable and neither of those things were what people would ordinarily have associated with the man. Severus was not tall, granted, but he had a strong presence which was usually undeniable. The headmaster back up and watched from a few feet away as Poppy expertly cast numerous examination spells.
Sometimes Dumbledore thought he should have taken the time to have Poppy teach him more than the basic medical spells he knew, but he had never had need of them. 'There seems so little point now,' he thought to himself with a cursory glance at his black and withered hand.
“He will live,” Madam Pomfrey told the Headmaster after a few minutes, “though he is going to need some time to recover.” Dumbledore gave the nurse a wry smile; it was more or less what he had been expecting.
"Of course," Dumbledore confirmed with a nod of his head, moving closer to the bed once more and looking down at the almost frail-looking man lying there. He suspected that Severus was simply too stubborn to die this way, but the Headmaster was glad to hear that the Potions Master was going to make it nonetheless.
“I will give him something for the pain and a potion to repair his nervous system," the nurse informed the Headmaster as she summoned some potions. "I imagine it will be at least a few hours before he is awake again; though that is probably for the best.”
“Very well,” Dumbledore said, giving her a grateful smile before turning to head out of the ward as Madam Pomfrey pulled a screen around Severus bed for privacy, leaving the nurse to her work. She had treated Severus for such things before and, though she never said, Albus was fairly sure that Madam Pomfrey had a good idea where the injuries came from. He and Severus both appreciated her discretion.
-#-
Lucius could admit, to himself at least, that he was concerned; it had been hours since Severus had left and as much as he liked the idea of being able say ‘I told you so’, he didn't actually want his lover to be suffer. Besides, he at least wanted the other man to be well enough to appreciate his righteous ranting.
He knew better than most just how much suffering the Dark lord was capable of inflicting on someone. Lucius had learned the hard way just how much rage their master could direct at someone who had displeased him, and neither of he, nor Severus, had been under any delusion that Severus’ summoning had been for a congratulatory hug.
Lucius went to take another sip of brandy but, much to his annoyance, no more than the dregs passed his lips. Holding it up to get a proper look, he glared at the empty glass for a few seconds before grabbing the decanter from where he had placed it on the table next to his chair and poured himself another generous portion. He felt no guilt in pouring himself a refill; if Severus was going to torture his mind by remaining absent without explanation, then Lucius was going to take his suffering out on the room’s alcohol supply.
Lucius closed his eyes as he leaned back into the comfortable chair, cradling his brandy in both hands. It occurred to him as he took a sip, that he should probably eat something; he had never quite gotten around to having anything more than a cup of tea for breakfast and given the rather generous glass he had already consumed, this second one was likely to go straight to his head.
"Elf," he called out without opening his eyes, not remembering the specific names of any of the ones that usually served Severus in his quarters. It took a few seconds but there was a familiar popping sound that indicated the arrival of a house elf, and Lucius found himself quite grateful that Severus had at least left the wards such that they would allow the house elves entry.
"How's can Flipsy be helping, sir," a small voice squeaked out, and Lucius opened his eyes to peer at the raggedy creature stood next to his chair, looking up at him with large green eyes.
He demanded to be brought a platter of meats and cheeses, thinking that that way he would be able nibble on them as the mood took him, rather than having to worry about having the stomach to consume a proper meal. If the house elf thought anything of his manners or irritable mood, it was wise enough to not comment and simply disappeared with another small popping sound.
What arrived less than five minutes later was hardly up to the standard he would have demanded from his own elves, but he had grown depressingly used to the school’s food and so made no complaint as he ate enough to settle his stomach.
Feeling a little better now that he had eaten something, Lucius leaned back in his chair once more, resigning himself to waiting. He just hoped that someone would think to let him know as soon as there was news; he had no choice to trust that Dumbledore, Draco, and Potter, not to mention Severus himself, would realise that he cared enough about the dour Potions Master to be worried.
-#-
“Did you hear? Potions has been cancelled all day,” Draco overheard some third year Ravenclaw boy saying to his friend. Draco's hand was in Harry's, the two of them on their way to the Great Hall for lunch when they had happened to walk passed the two young Ravenclaws, who were heading in the opposite direction.
“Yeah, Mikey told me," the friend replied knowledgably. "The Gryffindors were supposed to have it first thing but...” However, Draco couldn't hear any more as the third year Ravenclaws rounded a corner, moving out of Draco’s ear shot.
“Did you hear that?” Draco asked, frowning as he looked up at his mate next to him. They hadn't had potions that day and so this was the first they had heard about the lessons being cancelled; it was certainly very odd and left Draco feeling rather worried about what would keep Snape from teaching.
Harry hummed and nodded in confirmation. He too seemed bothered by what they had heard, a puzzled and concerned expression on his face. “That’s pretty weird, right?" he asked, knowing that Draco knew Snape better than he did.
“It is; Professor Snape would never miss a lesson without a good reason,” Draco agreed with a nod. Though the blond had schooled his expression to be blank, when Harry felt gently through their bond, he could feel how anxious Draco really was.
“Come on,” Harry said decisively, the combination of his own curiosity and his desire to do what he could to reassure his mate, pushing him into action. "Lunch can wait," he said, as he pulled on Draco’s hand, dragging him suddenly off down another corridor to their left.
Draco smiled when he realised where they were going, that their new route would take them directly to a tapestry shortcut to the dungeons. It warmed his heart to know that Harry cared; even about the grumpy Potions Master, who had always taken such pleasure in making Harry's life difficult. But then that was just who Harry was, he couldn’t help but care; and, despite what he had been raised to believe, Draco couldn’t quite see that as a weakness anymore.
Harry glanced around the corridor they were in quickly before he and Draco ducked behind the large tapestry showing a scene from one of the goblin wars. They found themselves in a familiar part of the dungeons and hurried a little further down the empty corridor, in the direction of Snape’s personal rooms.
Sharing a worried look once they reached the door, Draco shrugged his shoulders; he didn't know what they should do, it had been Harry's idea to come and check on the Potions Master after all.
Harry summoned his Gryffindor courage and rapped his knuckles on the door. “Professor Snape?” he called out nervously, just hoping that the professor wasn't going to be too annoyed with them just showing up uninvited.
-#-
Bang, bang. Lucius groaned softly as the loud noise dragged him reluctantly back to consciousness, his thoughts feeling a little muddled as he was roused from his unplanned nap.
“Professor...?” someone called out, though it sounded distant and muffled.
“ Professor? Father...?” a more familiar voice shouted, registering in his mind and drawing him back into a more alert state. He groaned a little more loudly as he forced his eyes open and tried to sit up; his back ached slightly but that was not greatly surprising given that he was still in the chair in the living area of Severus' quarters.
“Malfoy? Snape?” the first of the voices called out again, followed by the banging sound from before, which Lucius now realised was someone knocking on the door. Bang, bang. He winced as the loud noise made his head hurt a little.
“Professor?! Father?!” the more familiar of the voices bellowed, though Lucius could only tell that from the tone rather than the volume, which seemed to be muted by not only the solid wood of the door but also the wards. Bang, bang. “Father, I know you must be in there,” a voice he was able to now identify as Draco's shouted.
Now that he had woken up a bit more and realised that it was his son at the door, Lucius moved to stand up. However, the moment he did, he was hit by a bit of a dizzy spell and had to quickly grab one of the arms of the chair; he spotted the empty glass on the floor by his feet and glanced at the brandy decanter on the table, now significantly more empty than it had been first thing this morning. It seemed he had drunk a good deal more than he had intended to and it was the memory of why he had started drinking in the first place that got him moving despite his squiffy state.
“Bear with me a moment,” he called out loudly, hoping it was enough to get through the wards. He frowned at his less than stellar articulation; his tongue seemed to be having trouble getting words out, but at least his brain could still manage eloquence, even in his inebriated state.
He took a steadying breath to calm his churning stomach and pushed himself the rest of the way to his feet, a task that would have been much easier if the damned floor and walls weren’t insisting on dancing around all over the place.
“Hello?” the not-Draco voice called through the door.
'And that must be Potter,' Lucius thought bitterly. 'Stupid Gryffindor impatience.' He appeased his mind with the rather pleasing image of his son, stood on the other side of the door, glaring at the Potter boy as the annoying brat well deserved. Lucius was sure it was an impressively stern and intimidating glare too; Draco had learned from the best, after all.
It took him a couple of minutes of rather unsteady steps, but Lucius made it to the door; it was an achievement that he was struggling not to feel proud of himself for, but his focus was on his worries about Severus.
He had no idea how many hours it had now been and he was hopefully that Draco had come with news. Though, that raised the worrying question of why Severus would not have brought the news himself. He needed to know why Severus was not there, chastising him annoyingly for having drunk himself silly, and reminding him that it was most unbefitting for a Malfoy.
-#-
“Hello?” Harry called out when there had been no sound from inside the room for at least a minute; it did seem to be taking a rather long time for the older Malfoy to get to the door. Draco rolled his eyes at his mate, but said nothing; Harry had never exactly been known for his patience.
“There’s wards... on the room,” a rather slurred and muffled voice said from just the other side of the door a few seconds later. Draco and Harry shared a bemused look; wards would certainly explain why the voice sounded muffled, but not the slurred words.
“Father...?” Draco asked incredulously, a rather peculiar expression on his face. He had never heard his father’s voice sound like that before and that combined with how long it had taken Lucius to respond, was leaving him worried.
“Draco, do you have news about Severus?” Lucius asked, his usual brisk and sharp tones absent, the words coming out somewhat mumbled, as well as hushed by the wards.
Draco glanced at his mate for a moment before going too staring at the door to Severus' quarters, a scowl on his face. “Are you drunk, father?” Draco asked disbelievingly, not sure how he felt about that possibility.
There was a rather poignant silence in response to the submissive's question that spoke volumes. Harry found the whole idea of a drunk Lucius Malfoy highly entertaining and gave Draco a decidedly amused smirk; thought that did make him silently ask himself if perhaps the two of them had been spending too much time together lately.
“Father...?” Draco asked again, when there had still been no response after a few more seconds. "You're drunk, aren't you."
“Maybe," Lucius admitted with obvious reluctance, and there was a soft thump that sounded like someone leaning heavily against the other side of the door. "A little,” he added quietly enough that he could barely be heard through the door.
Both teens snorted at that, sharing an amused look, wishing that they could get into the room to witness the bizarre event which Lucius Malfoy drunk must be; Draco, particularly, was struggling to imagine his usually well-composed father in such a state.
“Severus, do you have you news of him?” Lucius asked again, sounding more urgent now, the man's tone breaking the mood and causing Draco and Harry to quickly become more serious.
“Erm, actually we came to ask if you had seen him,” Harry admitted, reaching out and grasping Draco’s hand, seeing that his mate was obviously worried. Truthfully, he was too. “Potions was cancelled.”
-#-
Harry's words made Lucius feel sick, and he leaned even more heavily against the door; his heart was racing and the room felt like it was swirling around him most unpleasantly but he forced himself to speak. “Severus was summoned,” he told them, “to the Dark Lord. Damned fool went,” he added bitterly.
He was pretty sure he heard Potter draw a sharp breath in surprise, as though he had no idea that the entire situation was his fault in the first place. Draco’s silence worried him far more than any other reaction ever would have, and let him know how concerned his son truly was.
“Medical wing,” Lucius heard Draco suggest and he hoped that his son was right. He hoped that it was just that Dumbledore had not yet seen fit to inform him about Severus' return, and that the dratted nurse was secluding the Potions Master away in her medical wing, as she had been known to do.
He knew, however, that that would likely mean that Severus was seriously injured or even unconscious; Severus would never stay away willingly, of that he was sure. But that was still a far more bearable idea than Severus not having returned at all; that wasn't a possibility he was ever going to be ready to consider.
“We will come back,” Draco said; it sounded to Lucius like his son was trying hard to sound strong, trying to keep his calm, and Lucius placed his hand on the door; so rarely had he wanted to wrap his son up in his arms more than he did in that moment, though he wasn't sure which of them needed the comfort more. “We will find him and we will come back," Draco promised. "We will find out what is going on.”
“Thank you,” Lucius whispered as he faintly heard the footsteps of the two boys hurrying off down the corridor.
-#-
“Madam Pomfrey!” Draco called out, as he barged into the Medical Wing, with Harry close on his heels. Both of them had their wings out and spread wide behind them. Draco had only just managed to restrain himself from running his way across the castle, and the determined expression on his face had been enough to keep Harry quiet.
“Goodness, Mr Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed in surprise at the rather enthusiastic entry, looking up from the bed she was making about half way down the ward. “Whatever is the matter?” she asked as she hurried over towards where Harry was holding onto Draco's hand to keep the submissive from darting around the Medical Wing.
“Professor Snape, is he here?” the blond demanded impatiently, already looking around at the empty beds and spotting the one cordoned off behind a screen at the far end.
“He needs rest, Draco,” Madam Pomfrey told the young man firmly, moving to block Draco's path when the blond pulled his hand free of Harry's. She side stepped to block Draco's path again, when he went to head further into the ward, and she glanced to Harry for a little help.
Harry wrapped his arm around Draco's waist and pulled his mate into his side, however, the blond was not happy about being held back. “Get off,” Draco griped, the purple wings on Draco’s back pushing against Harry in obvious annoyance.
“Calm down, Love,” Harry said, his voice calm but stern. "We know he is here now, Snape is where he needs to be," he reasoned.
Draco gave an annoyed huff and scowled at him, but his wings did relax and he stopped fighting against his mate. Hearing his father sounding drunk and then being so worried about Snape had put him on edge, and he realised that he was being irrational and that wasn't helping anything.
“How is he?” Draco asked, turning to the nurse, nodding in the direction of the hidden bed. He knew that it was going to be serious, Severus would never have allowed himself to be kept in the Medical Wing if it wasn't and so Draco knew that both he and his father needed answers.
Madam Pomfrey hesitated, taking a moment to decide what exactly she could tell them. “Professor Snape will be fine," she said. "He woke up briefly but he seriously needs rest, and so I have put him into a medically-induced sleep,” the nurse explained.
"I want to see him," Draco said, needing to see that the man was okay for himself. Snape had been an important figure in his life for as long as he could remember, and he was certain that his father loved the man; it was only thanks to a good deal of practice that he was able maintain his calm facade.
"He is unconscious and needs undisturbed rest, Mr Malfoy," Madam Pomfrey told him bluntly, not about to waver on that. "I will send word to you when he is awake," she offered.
"I need to see him," Draco snarled, nearly clipping Harry in the face with his left wing as he spread them suddenly. He couldn't see what it would matter, given that the potions Madam Pomfrey was giving Snape would keep him unconscious. The nurse was, however, remaining stubbornly in his way and Harry was maintaining his hold.
"Snape's going to be okay, Draco," Harry pointed out, to his obviously upset and agitated mate, "you can see him later." Harry was worried that Draco was getting too worked up, and he knew that an emotional outburst would do nothing to help Draco or anyone else; least of all the unborn child that Draco was carrying.
"Draco, please," Harry said as he placed a hand on his boyfriend’s cheek, actively projecting feelings of calm across their Erote bond. It was a little strange to do, as they had not had need of it in such a way in some time, but it still wasn’t long before the blond stopped fighting against his hold.
Draco let out a long slow sigh as the tension and agitation started to melt away. Relaxing his wings he turned back to his mate, tucking his head under Harry’s chin as he cuddled against the dominant's chest. He was glad when Madam Pomfrey headed back off to finish off making the bed he had been working on before, giving them a little privacy.
“We need to go tell your father,” Harry told him in little more than a hushed whisper, so that only the two of them could hear, brushing his fingers over Draco's wings affectionately.
Draco seemed to be relaxed against his boyfriend’s chest but when he looked up at Harry, his eyes were narrowed. “Yes," he agreed. "And then we need to have a word with our dear headmaster about keeping others properly informed,” the blond added firmly.
Harry just held his mate close for a few moments longer, but privately, he agreed.

By popular demand I am going to try and create an email group, where I will send an email notifying when I update any of my stories. If you wish to receive these trial email notifications then please let me know in a review, leaving me your email address. (literally put your email in the review and I will sort the rest)
I will NOT use your email address for anything other than sending you notifications and I will NOT give your email address to anyone else.
Also, like I said, I am now on facebook at http://www.facebook.com/pipa.bickymonster
Please do take a moment to leave me a review and let me know your thoughts.
Thank you for reading.
Review Responses:
Delia Cerrano - I am very glad to hear that it is keeping your interest. Neither Harry nor Draco really considered that Voldemort might take it out of Severus. He feels very guilty now that he has found out.
ChaosLady - Oh no indeed.
Jan - Severus definitely gets the poor end of the stick in this chapter.
Eve - I sent you an email, I hope you got it; but it basically said that I would be delighted for you to translate it; assuming you always reference my original work.
- 23
- 24
- 25
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

Erotes