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Kinder, Kindler, Kindlier	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 24796 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Kinder, Kindler, Kindlier
- 2-Chapter 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 10
- 12-Part 12
- 3
- 4
- 5
Thank you again for all the reviews!

�� What had
Potter done?

�� But that
question couldn�t occupy Draco for long, because he was fairly sure he knew the
answer. Potter was the stupid one, not him.

�� Which left
the real question, once the one he had thought
about had cleared away like smoke and let him see behind it.

�� Why had Potter done it?

�� Draco
watched him the majority of that day, while he set other simple potions brewing
and checked on them occasionally, while Severus wrote letters and made bargains
by Floo and arranged the new displays of jewels, of stones, of animal skins and
wings and legs, and Potter finished constructing one of the rooms he would use
and set about decorating the inside walls with protections. Apparently he was
still worried about assassins, and while Draco didn�t think he needed to be
worried, it would be nice to have the wards sheltering them from real threats.

�� His mind
turned in several directions. Perhaps Potter meant to mock him when Draco
believed his ruse.

�� But who
would Potter mock him to? Besides, if he did that, Severus would not be amused,
and would deprive Potter of something he seemed to want.

�� Maybe he doesn�t really want to work with
us. Maybe this has all been a trick from the beginning.

�� But that
didn�t seem right, because he�d written that letter to Severus in the first
place, and he�d spent all this time and work on the shop, and�

�� Admit it, Draco. He would have to care a lot
about your opinion to do that, as well as all the work on Severus�s shop and
the Manor.

�� The simpler
explanation was probably the true one, Severus had taught Draco during his
fourth year, when he�d written some deeply convoluted essays to try and figure
out the �secrets� of simple potions. If all the texts, ancient and modern,
agreed that powdered amethysts were required in a Stomach-Soothing Potion, it
was probably simply because amethysts were neutral stones, non-reactive with a
large number of ingredients, rather than because there was something special
about the color purple.

�� Potter
wanted to work with them. Maybe the real reason was the one he had told Draco;
maybe it was something else. But he wanted to, and to do good work, he had to
get along with them. He was probably tired of the way Draco brooded�Merlin,
Draco was tired of it himself�and that meant he�d ask and see if he could fix
the problem.

�� Gryffindors always think that asking can fix
the problem.

�� Except,
Draco noted by the end of the day, it seemed to have worked. He was more
energetic than he�d been since Potter had sent that absurd letter to Severus.
He hadn�t messed up one potion, the way he had the other days. He had thought
about Potter instead of how no one was appreciating or seeing him.

�� Potter had
appreciated him.

�� And Draco
wanted to ensure that it happened again, and there was also a squirming sense
of obligation in his mind, more uncomfortable than any life-debt.

�� So he had
to talk to Potter.

��

*

�� Potter.�

�� Severus
lifted his head. He had spent the afternoon absorbed in separating a shipment
of skins from one another; the thoughtless supplier had mixed in leopard with
jaguar with cheetah with spotted false nundu. Severus would not be using them
again.

�� It had
meant that Draco evidently thought himself unobserved, and so he had gone to
talk with Potter. Severus hissed and shifted nearer so that he could overhear
the conversation. He was pleased with Draco�s work, for the most part, but
disappointed at his constant need to interrupt Potter and drive him away. If he
tried to do it again, Severus would give him a scolding, and, to be sure that
it would take, one in front of Potter.

�� Yes,
Draco?� was Potter�s pleasant reply.

�� Severus
paused, wondering what motive Potter could have for that and what the
expression on Draco�s face was now.

Then he realized he could move
forwards and see at least one of those things for himself, easily. He resisted
the temptation to roll his eyes. He had really been a spy for too long.

He was in time, peering around the
corner, to see Draco thrust his hands into his robe pockets and give a gusty
sigh. Severus would have glared at such childishness, but Potter simply watched
Draco, his wand poised in the air. Severus shook his head when he noticed the
wards that Potter had been weaving pause along with him, glowing and shimmering
in place like obedient fairies. He had never known any wizard who could coax
simple spells to do that, let alone complex ones like wards. Potter�s innate
genius for defensive magic at work, that.

�I was thinking about what you said
the other day,� Draco said.

Potter nodded. Severus remembered
that they had been standing close to each other yesterday, their gazes intent,
when he walked into the shop. He had suspected a row. Hearing that it had not
been made him put a hand on his heart to check that it was still beating regularly
and that he had not passed into some strange trance state.

�I�I haven�t appreciated what
you�re doing, either.� Draco spoke the words almost mechanically, as though he
was plowing through them and counting the beats until he was done in his mind.
�It can�t have been easy to reach out to us like this and decide to come and
set up shop with people who�ve always despised you.� He took a deep breath and
met Potter�s eyes with a courage Severus would have named as beyond him a
moment ago. �Thank you.�

Potter could have spoiled the
moment in so many ways. Gloating triumph would have been Severus�s choice for
disaster, followed by awkwardness that would make Draco feel he had wasted his
apology.

Instead, Potter nodded, gave Draco
a quiet smile, said, �You�re welcome,� and turned back to his work. The wards
once again began dancing.

�� Draco stood
there for a time. Severus didn�t know if he was wishing for more interaction or
watching the intricate way that Potter�s wards curled around one another.

�� He turned
away in the end, and Severus swiftly slipped back to his own post. He wondered
if Draco would notice the trailing edge of his robe, but Draco seemed incapable
of noticing anything except his own emotions. He picked up a vial and stared at
it for a full minute, as Severus could see by watching from the corner of his
eye, before he shook his head and began to attend to the bubbling cauldron in
front of him.

�� That was
it, then. Severus could feel the slackening of tension in the shop. Draco and
Potter would speak to each other more quietly from now on, and this was the
beginning of a tentative friendship. Two days ago, Severus would have given
much for that impossible vision.

�� Now, his
muscles were coiled against it, and he would have liked to speak sharply to
someone about what had happened. ��

�� Why? You should be grateful that the feuds
between Potter and Draco won�t ruin your displays or make your customers run
away.

�� It took
Severus the rest of the afternoon to find the answer. He had had to know and
judge his own reactions when he was a spy, but there had always been layers of
his mind that he left well alone, and the peace since the war, the lack of need
for his spying skills, had thickened the defenses that he built against the
knowledge. He had to relentlessly ask himself questions until the solutions
came to him out of self-defense.

�� They may have a friendship, but it leaves me
outside it. I want them to pay attention to me.

*

�� Harry
wondered if Snape had noticed what he was doing.

�� Harry had
spent most of the morning working quietly with his wards, as usual, and he had
expected to eat lunch alone, since Draco�s mother had called him back to the
Manor to eat with her. But when he came out of his section of the shop, casting
a spell that would leave the dust clinging to the walls and floor instead of to
his robes, he found Snape waiting for him, body �casually� arranged across the
exit to the street.

�� Harry
paused and looked at him uncertainly. Did he want a duel? Had the kindness he
had shown Harry the other day been an illusion after all? Harry didn�t want to
look as though he was tightening his grip on his wand, but he was. At least he
had it already out, so he didn�t have to think up a half-hidden way of drawing
it, which would probably have failed anyway.

�� Sir,� he
said, because he had to say something, and the air between him and Snape was
growing and expanding with all sorts of things he would rather not think about.
�Is something wrong?�

�� No,� Snape
said, then didn�t add anything else.

�� As the
moments passed, Harry�s stomach seemed to contract and throb like a second
heart, and Harry decided that he had to have food before he died of it. When in doubt, self-confidence often works, he
reminded himself, remembering some experiences he�d had with the wizarding
public. He nodded to Snape coolly and strode ahead, as if he fully believed
that Snape would move out of his way.

�� Snape
turned, so that he was only half blocking the door, and said, �I wished to
inquire if you wanted to join me for lunch today.�

�� Harry
paused in shock. He hoped his face didn�t wear a blank, gaping look, the way
his mind did.

�� Of
course,� Snape said, and these words came out smoothly, unlike the jerky ones
from before, �if you have other plans, I can quite understand.� He started to
step away, so used to rejection that he was anticipating it even here.

�� No,� Harry
said hastily, �no plans.� He knew he didn�t look graceful or composed, but that
didn�t matter. When had he ever been
one of those things in front of Snape? He turned to look up at him, striving to
understand, wanting to know what was happening behind those black eyes, behind
that sallow face. �I assumed you wouldn�t want company,� he added, �based on
our past. But perhaps that was a stupid thing to assume.�

�� It was,�
Snape said, relaxing enough to lead Harry further into the shop. Harry assumed
they would eat at one of the tables where Snape spread out specimens and
considered their quality for inclusion in his goods, but Snape continued
walking, to the stairs at the back that led up to his living quarters, and
Harry was reminded once again that he was stupid to assume things.

�� Perhaps he
had gulped or squeaked, because Snape turned around and looked at him closely.
�Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?�

�� Harry
cleared his throat. �No, nothing. P-please lead on, sir.�

�� Snape
watched him with a suspicious eye as they climbed the stairs, but Harry was too
busy trying to imagine what his rooms looked like to really care.

�� The rooms
were small, dim, and packed with irregular pieces of furniture, tables, and
more crates. Harry avoided a chair that looked like a copy of an antique done
in dust and wool and took a nervous seat on the cushions of a couch that might have been a bit sturdier. If
nothing else, the cobwebs would probably hold it together.

�� All
right?� Snape said, and Harry knew that the man was watching him narrowly, and
that the wrong reaction could be even more fatal here than it had been in the
conversation with Draco.

�� But at
least he had initiated that one, and had some idea of where it was going. Here,
he had nothing to follow but his instincts. Harry smiled and looked straight at
Snape. �Sure,� he said. �What�s for lunch?�

*

�� Severus
felt as though he were walking on autumn leaves. They could crack and hiss at
any moment and betray his presence, or at least the subtlety with which he was
trying to work.

�� He had
never imagined that a fitting recipient of that subtlety might be Harry Potter.

�� But he
would not watch a friendship entwine two people who were sharing working space
with him and leave him outside it, yet again. It had been that way at Hogwarts.
Even the other professors who called themselves his friends ceased their jokes
when he walked into a room, and gave each other significant glances that he
could not interpret.

�� He and
Draco were alike. Severus had no illusions that Potter would ever manage to
intrude on that likeness and enter their intimacy uninvited. But as to what would happen, he was unsure.

�� And he
knew, if Draco did not, the power of Potter�s draw. Draco had turned his head
to watch him walk past in school, even on the days when he did not dare engage
him due to the presence of professors. He would stop speaking to someone else
and sneer, his eyes tracking Potter without a word, then continue the
conversation as if unaware of his own pauses.

�� Perhaps
Potter would find that attractive in return. That unwavering attention, the
lightness and grace of Draco�s form, even the sharp way he spoke, were all
means of deepening their friendship.

�� If Severus
wanted anything comparable with Potter, he would need to work at it.

�� So he
prepared the simplest lunch he could, one he thought would be to Potter�s
taste: tuna sandwiches, the bread ancient but subjected to a Freshening Charm,
the fish left over from a shipment. He cast several more charms that ought to
dissipate every taste of age. He had watched the way Potter looked at the dust
and webs around them and suspected that he would be especially careful of the
food.

�� Once,
Severus would have been ashamed to keep his personal quarters like this, but
his rooms at Hogwarts had not been separate from his private potions lab. He
had to keep them clean because his work was there. But when he worked on
another floor, there seemed little reason to tidy a room that was, after all,
only meant for eating and sleeping.

�� He took the
plate of sandwiches out to Potter. Potter watched him for a moment before
taking one. Severus bristled, wondering if the idiot still thought that Severus
was out to poison him.

�� But Potter
took a large bite without waiting for Severus to take one, and when he shut his
eyes and hummed under his breath in bliss, Severus had to concede there were
more innocent explanations for the hesitation, such as Potter wondering which
sandwich would please Severus more.

�� Oi,�
Potter said. �This is good.� He ate
several more bites in such quick succession that Severus avoided looking at his
mouth, imagining that he would see bits of bread and fish clinging to his
teeth, and then reached for another sandwich.

�� Severus ate
more daintily, watching the man who had been the boy he knew. Potter still ate
like a seagull, all gullet and no discrimination, but at least he did not
actually lick his fingers after he was done. He simply flopped back on the
couch and closed his eyes with a tiny, happy sigh.

�� He opened
them again an instant later and looked at Severus with a faint speckle of a
blush on his cheeks. �Sorry,� he said. �That was rude. But I�m always hungry
after I finish putting up wards like that.�

�� You need
not instruct me on the theory of wards,� Severus said, his voice a hiss before
he could stop it.

�� Potter
promptly sat all the way up again, his fingers clasped tightly together in his
lap, relaxation banished back to whatever strange realm it had come from.
�Right,� he said. �Sorry.� This apology was more rushed than the previous one,
but also more formal, and he went on looking fixedly at his hands when it was
done.

�� Severus ate
two more bites before he could stand it no longer. He had invited Potter up
here to understand him, and this was not working. �Why did you write to me?� he
asked.

�� Potter
blinked. �I thought I explained it all in the letter,� he said, affording
Severus a single glimpse of green eye before he was looking at his hands again.
Severus choked hard on the mouthful he had, suddenly remembering the moment
when he had thought that those green eyes were the last sights he would see in
this world. Potter rambled distractedly on, not noticing that momentary hitch,
thank Merlin. �I wanted to be involved in something greater than just an
endless round of casting wards for people. And if we join our businesses��

�� I did not
mean that,� Severus said. �Yes, you explained it well enough. But why did you
take the risk? I cannot imagine that your friends were pleased.�

�� For the
first time since Potter had started working beside them, he laughed. Severus
felt as though someone had slapped his face with a cold cloth and woken him out
of slumber. He remained still, and that was a good thing, because it allowed
Potter to continue and deprived Severus of a chance to sneer defensively, as he
might have if left on his own.

�� They both
think I�m mental,� Potter said. �Or I should say all of them, since I�m still
close to the rest of the Weasleys.� His face softened in a way that made a
single, steady ache pulse down Severus�s spine. �But because they think that,
they also think this is a temporary aberration. They�re determined to wait it
out and see if I get better.�

�� Will you?�
Severus was proud of himself for keeping his voice neutral.

�� Potter
glanced up at him, and Severus wanted to flinch back. It had been a mistake to
begin this conversation, a mistake to let Potter into the shop, a mistake even
to accept his help so that he could be cleared from the ridiculous charges the
Wizengamot brought against him. This was too sharp, too deep, too intimate, and
too�many other adjectives. Severus should have remembered that he was distant
from others for a reason. He should have remembered the distance that lay
between him and Potter in school, and not tried to bridge it. It did not matter
that this grown-up boy was Lily�s son, not when he was also James Potter�s and
the former object of Severus�s distinct unaffection.

�� I don�t
think so,� Potter said, as if he were unaware of all the thoughts dashing like
comets through Severus�s brain, though Severus had feared they would be
perfectly visible on his face. �After all, it�s a bit much to want this and
then turn around the next day and declare that I want something else.� He
folded his hands across his stomach, the heel of his right palm close to his
wand.

�� And is
that the only reason that you would stay here?� Severus found himself asking
sharply, as though Potter had struck him across the face. �Stubbornness?
Refusal to admit to your friends that you may have made a mistake in coming in
the first place?�

�� Potter
stared at him with narrowed eyes, and Severus looked away. He should have
remembered that his old self, the man Potter had thought he was working with, would never have said such a thing,
would have cared so little about Potter�s presence that it was nothing to him
whether Potter stayed or went.

�� But when
Potter spoke, there was a slowness in his voice that suggested simply that he
was trying to understand, rather than about to explode in mockery. �No. I do
want this.�

�� Why?�
Severus turned back. If he could not fully grasp what Potter intended to do, he
could still go on the offensive. �There is no reason for you to sacrifice your
future for such a strange ambition as working with us.�

�� I know.�
Potter raised an eyebrow. �If I thought it a sacrifice of my future, then I
wouldn�t have come here.�

�� Tell me
why you did.� Severus leaned forwards this time. Potter was too calm, too
unruffled. Severus wanted to see him shuffle his feet and look away. Maybe that
would make it easier to deal with his own unfortunate, highly-pitched desires.
�Tell me.�

�� Because
you were kind to me, that day you thanked me for helping you,� Potter said. His
eyes were big and drowning in sincerity, and tempting though it was to reject
what he was saying, Severus had to
believe it, simply because only Potter would be that utterly sappy. �I hadn�t
ever expected kindness from you. That�s not why I helped. And it woke me up,
and made me start wanting to do bigger things with my life.�

�� Severus
gestured around the dusty rooms with a contemptuous snort, inviting Potter�s
disapproval, inviting all the usual reactions. �This is not a bigger thing.�

�� It�s more
than what I was doing,� Potter said. �I told you. The dull routine�this is
different. And there�s another reason.�

�� Severus
stared at him, waiting for it.

�� It was
you,� Potter said. �No, I didn�t expect kindness, but I was thrilled to get it.
I thought at first that it was simply an inspiration, but when I heard that
Draco was going to be working with you, I realized I wanted something more than
that. I wanted to be with you, next to you, and see how you went about your
daily life.�

�� My work
cannot possibly interest you,� Severus said. He had said similar things to
Lily, many times, and to other people, other Death Eaters, who had attempted to
insinuate themselves into his life. Take the interest and point it back as a
weapon at the heart of someone who would threaten him. It had always been his
way.

�� I didn�t
say that it did,� Potter replied, with the exaggerated patience that Severus
was beginning to hate. �What interests me is you. The way you go about your life. The way you arrange things. I
like watching you do that, though I haven�t managed to watch a lot because I�ve
been so busy on the other side of the shop. But I like knowing that you�re
there and doing it.� A smile tugged up the side of his mouth. �And I like
knowing that you can make tuna sandwiches.�

�� Severus
said nothing at all. He could have found a defense against words such as these
had he not been staring with such witlessness, perhaps, but the stare deprived
him of energy. Potter hesitated, then leaned forwards and waved a hand in front
of his face.

�� Are you
all right?� he asked. �You look odd.�

�� Severus
snapped his mouth shut and stared at the far wall while he thought of the best
response. �That still seems an odd reason to sacrifice the business that was
making you money and keeping you in good odor with the public,� he said.

�� My real
customers will find me here,� Potter said, with a small shrug, as if he
honestly didn�t care. He does not need
to, when he has the Potter and Black fortunes locked in his vaults, Severus
thought, but the words lacked conviction even in his head. �And if they don�t
want to come to me now that I�m working with Death Eaters, as Draco has
reminded me, then I don�t think they need my services. They probably only
wanted a ward-maker who was famous.� Potter�s face turned pensive. �If I could
give away all that damn fame to someone, then I would. It�s ridiculous, how
many people act as though it�s a gift.�

�� It is a gift,� Severus said. �What I could
not do with it in your place!�

�� Potter
glanced at him. �I did look up spells that would transfer something like that
from one person to another,� he said. �And you were one of the candidates that
I considered transferring it to. But, in the end, I couldn�t find a spell that
was safe enough. Too many of them seemed as if they would kill either me or the
recipient. I had to give up.�

�� I am glad
that there are some limits to your recklessness,� Severus said automatically,
but his mind was reeling. He considered
giving me his fame? He has something priceless in his hands, and he considered
giving it up to me even before I thanked him.

�� I would
seem an odd destination for your fame,� he said, because it had to be said.
�Why would you consider me and not one of your friends?�

�� Because
you could use it,� Potter said, with a simple shrug, as though they were
discussing something as ordinary as the weather or Draco�s frame of mind. �It�s
like you just said. It would help you, while it hasn�t helped me.�

�� He cocked
his head suddenly, and stood up. �It sounds like Draco is back. We should
probably go down and reassure him that we�re still here, or he might think
we�ve abandoned him.� He chuckled. �He seems oddly prone to ideas like that.�

�� Potter
moved towards the stairs, but Severus locked the door with a nonverbal spell.
He could not let this go, not yet.

�� Potter
studied the door, lifted an eyebrow, and then turned and stared at Severus
expectantly. �You seem serious,� he said. �What about?�

�� Severus
looked at him. He had hoped to clarify and strengthen his relationship with
Potter by inviting him into his rooms. He had not realized what would happen to
him instead.

�� No one had
ever spoken of giving him such a gift before�and never because, simply said, it
would be useful to him. They had owed obligations to him, or been part of the
same House, where to strengthen one person was
to strengthen the House. Severus did not know how to deal with this
overwhelming strangeness.

�� But he
would have to find some way to deal with it, because Potter was peering at him
with curiosity, and Severus did not want to inspire him to think about the
reasons behind his silence longer than necessary.

�� I wish to
know why you would have given away your fame instead of using it,� Severus
said. It was not in the least what he wanted to know, but it would answer a few
of his questions about Potter, and that was enough for now.

�� Potter
stood there with his eyes half-shut for so long that Severus began to suspect
he did not know how to respond, either. Then Potter said slowly, �Every time I
thought I could use my fame for large things, instead of small ones, it didn�t
work out. It was good for inserting an interview in the Quibbler during my fifth year that Voldemort really had come back,
but not so good for making Umbridge shut up about the Ministry�s lies. It was
good to attract customers to my business, but not enough to make them leave me
alone, or leave you alone.� He looked
at Severus as his lips twisted in a bitter smile. �I reckon you never saw the
newspaper article where I asked for people to stop harassing you and other
former Death Eaters? It ran in the Quibbler.�

�� Severus had
to take a few deep breaths to control the immediate hostile reaction that
Potter�s demanding notice of his fame aroused in him. Then he said, �No. I was
not aware you had done such a thing.�

�� Potter
shrugged. �I thought it was safe to have Luna interview me, and if it had
worked I would have considered letting someone from the Prophet write an article. Instead, I got lots of Howlers telling me
that I didn�t lose anyone important in the war, and that was the week you had
three attacks in a row on your shop. I can�t use the fame. It uses me.�

�� Severus
remembered that week, of course. He did not know what to say. Perhaps Potter
could have learned to make capital of his name, his face, his reputation, if he
had only tried. But to retreat from a failed effort was certainly what Severus
would have done himself, so it was hard to blame him for that.

�� There were
footsteps on the stairs then, and Draco�s voice calling, �Where are you?� Severus wondered if there was
a tinge of jealousy in his tone. As far as Draco knew, he was the only one
besides Severus who had ever seen his personal rooms.

�� Apparently,
Potter had a different interpretation of Draco�s words. �He sounds worried,� he
said, and his stance was relaxed, his eyes nothing more than appealing as he
tilted his head at Severus. �Open the door, please.�

�� Severus
did, and Potter stepped out to reassure Draco and condole with him. A moment
later, Severus heard a low chuckle, and realized that Potter had said something
that made Draco laugh�an occurrence that he had once been sure would never take
place, at least with intention on Potter�s part.

�� This did
not truly contradict his impressions
of Potter so far, Severus told himself sternly as he came out of the room and
into the shop again to join his two partners. It simply meant the man was more
complex and strange than he had supposed, and he knew that already.

�� He had
thought he knew that.

�� But for all
his wisdom, watching Potter move about the shop�really watching him, not
assuming that Potter�s actions were familiar and thus needed no attention�began
to teach Severus that he might not know everything there was to know about
Harry Potter.

*

�� k lave
demo: Yes, Draco is �younger� here, but it�s mostly because, until this point,
he had nothing to force him to grow up. And this is lighter than some of my
more recent fics, too.

�� Thanks for
reviewing.
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Kinder, Kindler, Kindlier