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The Glass of Heart's Desire	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 13568 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter Three—An Intimidating Visit
            Harry Apparated in front of the gates to Malfoy Manor, looking at them doubtfully. The last time he had been here, he had gone through them escorted by their master. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now that he was an invited guest, but not actually being dragged bleeding into the house. Knock?
            He didn’t have that long to conjecture. The gates swung open so slowly and majestically that Harry felt himself twitch. He stepped equally slowly onto the gravel path inside them, looking around for some sign of the spells or even machines that performed that trick. Malfoy had changed a lot in the last few years. Harry wouldn’t put using a certain kind of Muggle trick past him.
            But Malfoy didn’t appear to have used anything except magic that was probably embedded in the wards. Those kept right on humming merrily, and Harry sighed and trod on up the gravel path towards the house.
            The path curved and bent a few times, but no traps tried to snatch his feet, and a house-elf opened the door, bowing low. “Master Harry Potter is coming this way?” it squeaked, and gestured down a broad corridor Harry hadn’t seen before. Then again, the last time he’d come this way he’d almost been slung over Snape’s shoulder and bleeding a lot. He shouldn’t trust his memories.
            Carpet thick enough to sound like snowfall under his feet didn’t reassure Harry much, either. He squared his shoulders, though. He’d been into his share of pure-blood houses by now to interview victims, and talk to witnesses, and sometimes to arrest criminals. He wasn’t going to let even the overblown splendor of Malfoy Manor get to him.
            Although, to be fair, he’d never entered a place like this with the intention of sleeping with its owner.
            A horrible blush worked its way over Harry’s face, and he hadn’t managed to quell it—even by reminding himself that he didn’t know what the vision meant, but possibly the Glass of Heart’s Desire used symbolic representations and that kind of thing, so possibly his heart’s desire was the sort of vulnerability and dependence he had seen in the mirror, not actually sleeping with Malfoy and Snape—when Malfoy popped around the corner. Harry came to a halt, rocking a little. Malfoy wore almost casual robes, long and sheer silver, embroidered with what looked like gamboling dragons.
            Harry almost snorted when he realized the dragons were stitched in green thread and had tiny little silver flakes for eyes. At least some things didn’t change, no matter how the Malfoy might shed his skin.
            “Auror Potter! Welcome.” Malfoy came forwards, closer than Harry had thought he would, and reached out a hand. Harry finally realized that he wanted to shake hands, and did so. Malfoy’s fingers were warm and thin and strong. “Severus is in the next room. Shall we go?”
            Harry considered saying, “No!” and running out of the house, even though he knew that wouldn’t actually solve the problem. He managed to nod and, he hoped, not look like he was being condemned to death by light conversation. He followed Malfoy out of the corridor into what was apparently the “next room,” although Harry wondered why Malfoy called it that, since they’d passed several doors.
            This one was a beautiful room, and at least it had no bloody life-changing mirror against the far wall. It was decorated in tones of light blue and gold, so that Harry found himself relaxing before he realized why. There was a fireplace in one corner, looming rather, but unlit, and Malfoy steered him towards the circle of chairs in the middle of the room. To one side of the circle was a couch that looked as comfortable as a bed; Snape was stretched out on that, reading.
            Do not think of beds and Snape in the same sentence! Harry ordered himself sternly.
            It didn’t make much difference, though, because the person he hadn’t thought of was behind him, guiding him to sit down on the nearest chair. His eyes all but shone, and Harry knew from one glance at him that Malfoy’s soft brush against his shoulder had been deliberate.
            I don’t know how to do this!
            But Harry had, by necessity, learned to do lots of things that he didn't know how to do since taking on the job as an Auror. He sat down and accepted a glass of pale, chill juice from Malfoy that looked as if it was squeezed from glass grapes. He had no idea what it actually was. Maybe even wine, if the smoothness of it was any indication. He took a long swallow and glanced again at Snape.
            Who, unnervingly, had closed his book entirely and focused on Harry.
            Harry drank some more. He might have to do this, but one thing was certain, that he had too dry a throat to continue the conversation right now.
            "We were waiting for you to begin," Malfoy said wryly, when a few minutes had elapsed and no one had said anything.
            Harry started and nodded putting down the glass. Maybe the drink had contained a few strengthening properties as well. God knew that he shouldn't put anything past a house full of Potions masters. "Sorry," he murmured. "I haven't done this before. I mean, had a vision like this before, or talked to people that the vision shows me sleeping with." Nervously, he ran a hand through his hair. Hermione would scold him for that, but Hermione wasn't here. "If that's even what the vision means. I suppose it could just mean that I'm going to come to trust you a lot?"
            "It might mean that," said Snape, with a depth to his voice that Harry had never heard before. Nervously, Harry glanced at him and found Snape focused on his face, his eyes dark and glistening. "But I had another vision in the mirror, one that intrigued me greatly, but could not be interpreted in many different ways."
            Harry bit his lip. "A vision of us in bed?" His voice shook, and he reached for the glass again. There was nothing much left in it, but at least he could swirl the liquid around and hide his mouth.
            "No," said Snape. "At a Ministry party, and from the way I smiled at Draco, and at you when you came up to me, we were already lovers."
            Harry eyed him. Snape didn't appear to be joking. Harry looked back at Malfoy, who was calmly sipping his drink and didn't seem jealous. Harry cleared his throat. "So...were you already interested in each other?"
            "Why would you say that?" Malfoy's voice was soft and polite, and he was toying with the stem of his glass, not looking at Harry.
            "Well, I mean, I don't think Snape's heart's desire could be to sleep with both of us," Harry said. "But you, maybe, and then I came along and..." He stared towards the wall that he thought separated them from the mirror, which he could practically feel crouching there like a huge beast. "Could someone's previous vision influence the vision that someone else has?"
            "No." Malfoy put his drink down and focused on Harry this time, with disturbing intensity. "Severus wants to return to society, and I thought at first that having you as a lover would aid in that happening. But he has reassured me that he would not climb a social ladder merely by having a socially prominent lover. I know that you don't have as much reason to believe him as I do, but please do so."
            That was all but an order, Harry thought, and the realization popped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "You like giving orders, don't you?"
            Malfoy didn't flinch or back away or even blush. "Depending on whether the vision you saw and described was accurate, I think it's highly likely that you like taking them."
            Scarlet flooded Harry's face and vision. He looked away from Malfoy and towards the door. "This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here."
            "I didn't mean anything demeaning by it." Malfoy sounded the same as before, unbothered. "What I mean is that you might be comfortable shucking off that mantle of Auror authority you wear occasionally, and lying back, and letting someone else do the work."
            "Occasionally," Harry said, turning back around. "That doesn't mean that every afternoon in bed would look like my vision did!"
            Malfoy only half-smiled, and Harry realized what he had admitted in denying part of Malfoy's assertion. He cursed softly under his breath and turned to Snape.
            "Look, don't you think this is a bit much?" he asked. "Strange, even? You might have a vision that includes me, I might have one that includes you, and it isn't that strange that Malfoy would show up in both of them. But for all of us three to be together--that doesn't strike you as strange?"
            "It strikes me as something that could go along with my heart's desire," Snape said. He didn't have the same absolutely calm look as Malfoy, but he wasn't bouncing up and down with indignation to deny what Harry was saying, either. "And while I have been patient, I am done with being so. I want to emerge and live my life in the eyes of day. I wish society to acknowledge me. I wish to be happy." He paused. "The Glass of Heart's Desire can sense all of one's desires and give the path to the strongest one. If you are part of what I need to be happy, then I do not wish to yield you, no."
            Harry could feel a strong, warm tide moving in him. He shook his head. That probably just came from feeling wanted by a man he had admired, desperately, after he was dead.
            "But it would be a lot of fucking work," he said. Malfoy snickered. Harry turned to him. Snape was too serious. If Malfoy could still laugh, maybe he could see some funny sides to the arrangement. "I mean, really. Do you want this? What is your heart's desire? Do you really want the same things we do?"
            "I don't know," Malfoy said, and stood up. "But the current owner of the Glass can look into it without the need of risking his life or performing a ritual. Shall we go and see?"
            Harry opened his mouth. Then he closed it. He wasn't personally familiar with this new, decisive Malfoy, but he really thought he should be, since it was the Malfoy who had been selling potions and reestablishing his reputation in the papers for the past five years.
            "All right," Harry muttered, and stood up. He looked at Snape, wondering if he was coming along, wondering if the two of them would want to be left alone. They had to share a lot of memories. They had been alone when Snape looked into the mirror.
            But Snape's mouth was curved in a faint smile, and while he had stood up, he made a bow that indicated Harry should go ahead of him.
            Harry lifted his head. If he was really to become their lover, if this was part of his heart's desire in a way he couldn't see right now but which the mirror had found out, then he didn't want to act nervous and timid in front of them.
            And if it didn't end up working out after all, then showing fear in front of two people who used to despise him was something he didn't want to do for his own reasons.
            He managed to follow Malfoy and precede Snape out of the room without very much trembling.
*
            Honestly, this close to a Potter who was more nervous than Draco had ever expected, Draco could see where some of Severus's attraction came from.
            It would be nice to see him trust us. To learn what sort of desire he needs to blossom instead of acting like he doesn't know what to do next.
            Draco ducked his head to hide his smile. Potter might think it was mocking if he saw it, instead of what Draco really meant by it, which was that Potter was as fascinating as ever, and Draco wanted to see what he looked like when he was self-confident and happy in someone else's presence. Draco had seen more than enough of what he looked like when he was upset.
            But I can't really influence the mirror when I don't even know for sure what my strongest heart's desire is, he reminded himself.
            He turned into the room with the Glass, curious, and doing his best not to show it. He had thought that one of his strongest desires was to see Severus reestablish himself, but the Glass seemed to show more than that, and it would always show the actual strongest desire, rather than the one the person watching the vision had told themselves they most wanted. Draco thought that was probably part of the reason that his ancestors had shut the bloody thing away in their vaults. It could be dangerous, could disrupt good arrangements, could make people face their hearts who had a constitutional dislike of doing so.
            Maybe this would be good for him, in some undefined way. Draco wanted a more defined good, with Severus and even Potter involved, but he'd have to see.
            He stepped up to the mirror and rested his hand on the glowing blue stone at the top of the frame. For a moment, it sparked, as if tasting his skin and recognizing in him the blood of a Malfoy. It was the most recognition Draco had got out of the mirror so far.
            Then lazy colors swirled in the middle of the glass and came together bleeding from the sides. Draco held his breath as he watched them. Maybe they would reveal the same vision of the Ministry party and the brilliant robes that Severus had seen. That would prove that he and Draco wanted the same things, and create a bond between them that it was harder to break.
            But instead, the colors formed a room that Draco knew, deep in the Manor, although he seldom used it. The walls were blue, the carpets white, the windows framed with pale blue jewels, and Draco's taste ran a different way. He rarely entertained people there, and cast some glamour spells when he had to.
            Now, though, he saw those colors, and himself in pale grey robes, sitting on a couch in a corner, watching something on a different couch with a smile. That scene on the other couch took a long time to form, as though the mirror was searching his heart for what he'd most like to see.
            When it did coalesce, Draco took a long, deep swallow of air. It was Severus, in black robes, attempting to crane his head so that he could see a large, crumbling red tome the right way. He couldn't just hold it up in front of himself because Potter was asleep on his shoulder, his mouth open, adding a tone of pink to the scene. He was in green robes himself, and snoring.
            Severus gave the image of Draco a martyred look. The Draco in the mirror only smiled more widely, and then got up to saunter across the room, bending down to kiss Severus on the mouth, Potter on the cheek.
            Potter stirred to wakefulness and stared up at Draco with a bleary look for a moment. Then he smiled.
            And a smile of trust was as precious as the martyred expression on Severus's face, or the satisfied one that his image wore now, reaching out to stroke Draco with one hand and Potter with the other. The book fell unnoticed in his lap, which Draco knew would never happen as things stood.
            Then the vision winked out like a star dying, and Draco took a deep breath and turned away from the Glass.
            "What did you see?" Potter demanded, leaning forwards on his toes, all but quivering.
            "Something I want to tell you both about at once," Draco said, then started a little when he realized Severus stood there, too. It was the first time in their years of living together that Draco had failed to sense immediately when Severus was in a room.
            Severus gave him a calm smile and said, "Yes, I appreciate that sentiment. But we are both here now, so you can tell us."
            Draco shook himself a little and stood upright. "I saw us sitting in a room in the Manor that I don't often use now." He put aside his worries about the color scheme. Maybe he would learn to like it because his partners liked it. Maybe he was only sitting in there under protest, and he would insist that Severus and Potter indulge him later. That sounded more like him. "You were reading a book, Severus, and Potter was asleep on your shoulder. He woke up when I crossed over to kiss him, and you." He looked at Potter. Yes, he was blushing again. Draco hadn't got tired of the blush yet, but he was hungry to see the sort of expression his future self would be able to make appear on Potter's face with ease. "He trusted me."
            "You could tell that just from the way I reacted?" Potter's voice was thin and high, and he reached up to rub his hand over his face, as if to rub away what Draco was saying.
            Draco inclined his head. "Of course I could. I don't think that you would wake that easily in a room with people you didn't trust. You have those instincts from the war as well as from your Auror training, don't you?"
            Potter paused. Then he said, "Good point."
            "And I know that I was feeling happy and loved," Draco pursued, in a kind of wonder that he didn't mind them seeing. He had never thought he would feel those particular emotions to that depth, although he had hoped to maintain his friendship with Severus for years, and marry someone he could like. "So that's the deepest desire of my heart. To have people I can relax around. I mean, utterly relax around," he added, seeing Severus's eyebrows rise, and knowing that he was probably thinking of the times Draco had fallen asleep over their research.
            "I had thought you had done that more than once before in the past," Severus murmured. "When you laid your head on the couch where I sat and went to sleep."
            Draco grinned. It had taken Severus days to recover from the evidence that someone trusted him that much. From the corner of his eye, he saw Potter observing them both as if they were mad, and that only made his grin widen.
            "But I didn't know that you wouldn't take it badly, so I didn't do it as often as I wanted to," he explained, which made Severus roll his eyes. But indulgently, that was the point, so Draco dared to persist. "Now that I know it's possible, and that I might have more than one person I could share that with, of course I want it."
            He turned to Potter. "That's sort of the way your vision went, isn't it? You saw yourself on a bed in a room you didn't know, but you did know the two of us, and you did know that you had relaxed enough around us to entrust yourself to us."
            Potter hesitated for so long that Draco thought he might need a fork to pry the bastard's mouth open. But then he nodded, and some of the vivid color left his face. "What about Snape's vision at the party, though? I don't know that it was about trust."
            "If you knew what it would take for me to smile at someone in a setting like a Ministry party," Severus murmured, "then you would not say that."
            Potter's lips hardened a little. "I don't know enough about you to say that, though. I don't know that I ever will know enough about you for something like that." He glanced sideways at Draco. "Do you really think that a desire for trust is enough to link us together?"
            "Well, obviously, we desire different kinds of trust," Draco pointed out, as kindly as he could. "The mirror isn't showing us all the similarities. But it is showing that our heart's desires could be fulfilled through each other."
            "Then I didn't secretly want to be with you all along," Potter said, frowning as if the concept was difficult for him to grasp. Draco smoothed away the impulse to make fun of him for his slowness. That was hardly the way to encourage Potter to trust him. "I wanted to be with people you could trust, and you're two people who could fit into that desire."
            Draco nodded, careful not to take his eyes from Potter's. "Exactly. You might have found someone else who could fit the bill. Or two other people. But we're here, and our visions mesh with yours. I think that we'd be foolish at least not to explore the possibilities." He glanced at Severus to see what he thought.
            "I think the Glass will be necessary to show us the first steps on the path," said Severus, but he was nodding in a way that Draco recognized from moments when he had got a potion right, against all expectations. "It can do that, I believe? Show the heart's desire and then show us the appropriate steps to get there?"
            "Yes," Draco said. "And now that all of us have had a vision in the mirror, we shouldn't need to go through another ritual or life-saving experience to have some more." He turned towards Potter, smiling at him. "Do you want to look again?"
            Potter gave him a sharp look. "In some ways, I would rather fight off rabid hyenas. At least they don't know magic."
            Draco cupped a hand around his ear. "I thought I heard you say 'in some ways.'" Gentle teasing could be all right, he thought, as long as it served a purpose.
            "Watch it, Malfoy," Potter said, but it wasn't said sharply. He stepped up, put a hand on Draco's shoulder, and then pushed him, gently, out of the way, so that he could look into the mirror.
            Draco moved aside, well-pleased. He had no idea what Potter might see this time, but he was almost sure of one thing: it wouldn't involve Potter leaving them behind.
*
            Harry gulped down some sustaining air as he faced the Glass. He found that one of his hands was trembling, and closed it down immediately. The last thing he needed was for Malfoy and Snape to witness that.
            Even if he no longer thought they would turn against him, or even make fun of him for it.
            Harry lifted his head and looked into the Glass's surface.
            For a second, it rippled placidly, and Harry began to wonder if this was going to be worse than useless. Maybe the Glass did only show one vision. Perhaps it assumed that Harry knew all the steps to his heart's desire and didn't need any more guidance. Harry squinted at it and tried, silently, to command it to show him something. Because of course he did need guidance, and he didn't know what to expect, and he wanted...
            You want to have even more to do with Snape and Malfoy than you already do?
            Harry sucked in a startled breath, having to accept that the Glass hadn't been as far off the beaten path as he had thought, and the placid surface rippled again and dissolved, as if Harry was diving into clear water.
            What he saw there made his cheeks burn the way they hadn't since he stepped into the Manor, and he whipped away from the Glass, dropping his head into his hands. He could feel Snape and Malfoy silently trying to command him to look up, but he didn't care. They weren't the ones who had just received a shock.
            "Potter?" Malfoy ventured.
            Harry swallowed and made himself look up. "I suppose I should have expected that," he said. Malfoy leaned forwards, almost quivering, and Snape waited beyond him, still but no less curious.
            "A kiss, all right?" Harry finally said, when he knew that he would die of embarrassment either way, and it was less embarrassing just to say it. "That's what the bloody mirror thinks would be a good first step."
*

           HEARTSTAR: Well, Draco certainly isn't against the idea!
            SP777: It's going to be a pretty short story, so I have to!
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The Glass of Heart's Desire