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The Glass of Heart's Desire	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 13568 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 5
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- 7
Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Six—Desires Before and After
            Severus watched with narrowed eyes as Potter stripped off his shirt. Now and then, Potter gave Severus a glance over his shoulder, as if he thought those narrowed eyes meant contempt that would slap out at him at any moment.
            He would, perhaps, be hardly more comforted if he knew the real reason that Severus was looking at him like that. Severus was attempting to keep his greed and hunger from showing all over his face.
            Yes, Potter was handsome. Yes, he kissed better than Severus had thought he would, and his presence in the vision the mirror had granted Severus was enough to make Severus interested in securing his goodwill, even if they never ended up lovers. Severus was less convinced than either Draco or Potter that the Glass of Heart’s Desire showed a literal vision of what would come to pass. It could be symbolic. Having Draco and Potter beside him as his lovers might end up meaning something else.
            But what stirred Severus’s true hunger was the way that Potter had decided to undress in front of them, to show them the truth and tell them secrets that he had obviously kept hidden from people all over the wizarding world. If he had cared to tell those secrets, he could have sold them to the highest bidder.
            Now, though…
            Now, as Potter’s shirt slipped down his shoulders and pooled on the floor, and Potter stood there with his head tilted to the side, panting slightly, his chest and back both rising and falling with the movement, Severus knew he had not. Because soft ropes of scars crossed Potter’s back, and there was no story to explain those that Severus had ever heard of.
            “Where did you get those? Those scars?” Draco asked it softly, and it was for the best that he did. Severus was not sure he would have said something entirely appropriate if he had to be the one to ask, or if he would have sounded appropriate.
            Potter flushed and glanced back over his shoulder, as though he needed to check on his own back, as if he might have forgotten the marks he bore. The self-consciousness only made Severus’s hands tighten on his knees. Yes, better to leave such matters up to Draco. He would have sounded not only inappropriate, but dangerous, if he spoke now.
            “Most of them from my cases, of course,” Potter was saying, slowly. He looked back and forth from Severus to Draco as if he thought they must know the answer. “There were curses. And sometimes burns. And quite often Dark creatures,” he added, a grin slipping over his face that made Severus want to snort. Some people were made for such things.
            “I don’t recognize this one. What is it?” And Draco came forwards and laid a hand over one large scar near the small of Potter’s back that looked like a starfish, and was white on the edges, but turned blue near the center.
            Severus could not stand it anymore. He stood up and moved nearer, and knew from the faint twitch of the corner of Potter’s eyelid that he was aware of the movement, although he kept his attention focused on Draco.
            “Which one? It’s hard to see from this angle,” Potter complained.
            Draco could have described the scar, but that would have lost him an opportunity, and frankly, Severus could not blame him for taking every chance he could. He pressed down with his hand and moved it in firm circles instead. “This one,” he whispered.
            Severus was watching Potter’s face, more closely at the moment than Potter could. He saw the moment when Potter’s lips parted and he released a hard huff of breath, when his eyelashes fluttered.
            Restraint gone, desire taking him over, Severus moved up beside Potter and lightly took his chin. Potter glanced at him, his eyelids still gently fluttering.
            “I believe Draco means the one that changes colors, from blue to white,” Severus said, and was proud of the way that Potter leaned in a little at the sound of his voice. If it was dangerous in tone, perhaps it was the kind of danger that evidently attracted Potter.
            “That one? That one.” Potter took a moment to recover, and then snorted and cocked his head to the side. His eyes were sharp and clear again, but Severus liked them even better that way than hazed with desire. It meant Potter was paying attention and focused on the here and now. “That one was the result of a curse from a wizard who’d been dosing himself with so many Skill-Enhancing Potions that it affected his magic.”
            Severus frowned. The Skill-Enhancing Potion could sharpen a wizard’s ability in a certain field, such as dueling or Dark Arts, depending on the particular draft made and consumed. But he had never heard of someone taking so many that it made his spells turn into something never seen before. “Why would anyone do that?”
            “There’s a little secret about Dark wizards,” Potter breathed, bending forwards. “Especially the ones I chase. I wouldn’t tell this to just anyone.”
            Severus nodded, mesmerized by the way that Potter’s eyes held his. Standing still behind Potter, Draco raised a hand and gently touched Potter’s bare shoulder.
            Potter twitched a little, but continued in the same grave tone. “Not all of them are sane.”
            Severus blinked, blinked again, and then reached out and rested his own hands on Potter’s shoulders. “You don’t say,” he whispered. “I am glad that you know the secrets of fighting against them, so that you may survive.”
            “You’re glad I survived, of course.” Potter turned his head to the side, still speaking to them but no longer meeting their eyes. Severus could feel as well as see the blush spreading under his touch. “Well, you would be. You fought so hard to keep me alive, and I didn’t appreciate that much at the time.”
            Severus shook his head. They could speak of the past, but they had better things to speak of just now. “Let me touch you,” he said, and leaned forwards so he could kiss Potter again.
            This time, Potter’s tongue was more than eager, leaping to the task so that Severus almost stumbled and spread his hands out on Potter’s shoulders. Draco laughed across from him, deep and welcoming, and tugged Potter’s head back by his hair to kiss him in turn. Potter twisted, seemed to realize the awkward angle, and turned around completely so that he could get his own hands into Draco’s hair and clothes.
            Severus watched them kiss, felt the warmth in his own belly, and saw the moment when Potter turned within Draco’s embrace to look back at Severus. His eyes were brilliant enough that Severus felt an old jolt in his belly. It was like looking at trees—at trees in summer sunlight.
            Harry. This was Harry, and not Potter. Harry was the one who smiled at people that way.
            Severus did not know where the intuition had come from, and he did not want to question it. He stretched out a hand instead. “Come, Harry. Come with us to the bedroom, where you can explain some of your other scars.”
            At this late moment, he didn’t expect the breath to catch in Harry’s lungs, or the way he nearly took a step back from Severus’s hand, eyeing it as though he suspected it of clutching an invisible poisonous snake. Severus watched him in blank surprise that he didn’t bother to hide. Harry was probably the closest to any of them to claiming his vision at this point. What would make him hesitate?
*
            Are they going to take me to that room? That bed? The one I saw in the vision?
            Harry found himself breathless at the thought, and sweating. He shivered. The sweat felt cold, and he wondered for a moment if it was just being without the shirt, or—or if it was something else, some instinct warning him that he might not like this.
            “Are you all right, Harry?” Malfoy’s voice was utterly calm, far more sure than the expression on Snape’s face at the moment, and his grip on Harry’s shoulders was also firm and steady.
            “I wondered—I wondered if the bedroom you were going to take me to was the one I saw in the mirror,” Harry whispered, and he trembled a little when Malfoy’s hands on his shoulders trembled.
            “I doubt it,” Malfoy said. “Although you never did tell us exactly what color the sheets on the bed were there, and how it was arranged. Do you want us to conjure something like that for you? I can. I will,” he added, as Harry turned around and faced him again.
            Harry stared at him. Malfoy still looked the same as far as his eye and hair color went, and if his face had changed from the boy Harry knew, it was mostly in terms of the expressions that sat on it. The angles hadn’t softened that much.
            “You—you would do something like that?” Harry asked, and when Malfoy looked at him as though he couldn’t comprehend why it would be trouble, shrugged and nodded, Harry had to smile. “Thank you, Draco.”
            He felt the understanding in both of them when he spoke, the hungry reaction backwards, and then Snape moved up behind him and lowered his head so that he was breathing on the back of Harry’s neck. “And me?” he whispered.
            Harry reached over his shoulder, sliding his fingers into long strands of hair, and tugging. Snape said nothing, made no sound, and Harry thought the noise he’d make depended a lot on the next few moments. “Thank you, Severus.”
            Draco started kissing him from the front then, his tongue sliding completely into Harry’s mouth, and Severus did the same on the nape of his neck. Harry closed his eyes and sighed, admitting their tongues, admitting their touch, and not caring much when they lifted him off his feet and carried him towards whatever bedroom they had in mind. This was incredible. And he felt…
            Not submissive. Not exactly. Not as relaxed and trusting as he had seemed to be in the vision in the glass.
            But eager. Excited. Breathless with anticipation, in the way that nothing but chasing a criminal had made him in a long time.
            I want them. I want this. I want everything.
*
            Draco had to admit that Harry looked very good sprawled out on the bed in the bedroom he’d chosen, which wasn’t his and wasn’t Severus’s and hadn’t belonged to anyone for the past ten years. If Harry chose to come back often enough, then it might become his. But Draco, for now, had to admire the dark glow of the green sheets against Harry’s skin and hair, and had to reach down and start working on the trousers that Harry had kept on.
            Harry, meanwhile, was sitting up with his back to Draco, although he lifted his hips and legs to let Draco drag his trousers off. Severus was sitting behind Harry, tracing with his fingers all the many, many scars that they hadn’t received any explanation of yet.
            “What is this one?” Draco heard Severus whisper, with his head near Harry’s shoulder and his hand nearly covering one that looked like a bite made by a mouth with conical teeth.
            Harry started to reply, but Draco leaned down and kissed his hip, which had its own share of scars. It really looked as though something had held Harry down with a grip there, maybe using a clawed hand, and tried to eat him. Harry moaned.
            “Your pardon, Draco,” Severus said, his eyes glinting at Draco over Harry’s shoulder. “I did not realize that you were not in the mood for stories.”
            “I’m in the mood for all sorts of stories,” Draco said. “But I want to know the stories that Harry’s body is going to tell us, as well as his mouth.” He let his hand slide around Harry’s hip again, and touched the coruscating claw marks. “What about this one?” Then he fastened his mouth on it and began to suck.
            Harry was moaning continuously now, although Draco thought he was also trying to get words out of his mouth to answer Severus. A second later, he started sagging, and Severus moved back so that he could lie down on the bed. Harry was flushed, breathless, probably also because of Severus’s hand that was tracing one of the scars on the side of his ribcage.
            “You can tell us everything,” Severus whispered, as he bent down and started kissing Harry on the mouth. “Later,” he added, drawing back.
            Draco thought Harry tried to get the breath for a retort at that, but Severus was back too soon, kissing him until Harry raised his arms and wrapped them around Severus’s shoulders, still gasping, still trying hard to breathe.
            “How do you want to do this?” Severus asked, lifting his head but keeping one hand on Harry’s throat, stroking.
            Draco blinked, a little surprised that Severus would pause and ask Harry that now instead of simply overwhelming him with an onslaught of kisses, but then realized Severus was speaking to him. He hesitated, once, and then spoke, because he knew, and he wasn’t about to pass up a free opportunity if Severus was really offering him one. “I want to fuck him. Badly.”
            Severus might have demurred, because for all Draco knew he wanted to do the same thing, but he only smiled. Perhaps he was thinking of the other visions in the mirror and how they would have all their lives for this, Draco thought. Or at least a good portion of time.
            “Good,” said Severus, which could have meant all sorts of things, and leaned down to whisper into Harry’s ear. No matter how Draco strained his senses, he couldn’t hear what Severus was whispering. But it seemed to reach to Harry easily enough, and from the soft groan that rattled Harry’s body, it was one he agreed with. A second later, he got his hands and legs into the proper position, and flopped over on his stomach.
            Draco swallowed and glanced at Severus, encountering enough amusement in his eyes that he looked away again. Severus had probably skimmed off the surface of Draco’s mind that he’d like to do it this way, so he could look at all those scars Harry was offering to him, to them, as emblems of trust, and so that he would be less likely to hurt Harry, the first time out.
            “Have you been with a man before?” Draco whispered, easing up behind Harry and cupping the sides of his ribcage gently in his hands while Severus went to get the lube. Harry was too thin, although Draco thought that probably came from almost constant exercise as an Auror and not deliberate starvation. Well, once the house-elves got hold of him, that wouldn’t be a problem anymore.
            Harry hesitated, and Draco ran a gentle hand over the back of his neck. “I promise, you don’t need to reveal names,” he breathed. “I’m just trying to decide how rough I need to avoid being.”
            Harry reached back one hand, and after a moment when he flailed around and Draco felt a bit stupid, he finally figured out what Harry wanted him to do. He clasped it, entwining their fingers, and Harry sighed and rubbed his face into the sheets.
            “No,” he whispered. “Not like this. A few—a few kisses, and other things. But not like this. I want—”
            “You want gentle,” Draco finished, exaltation burning in him with a soft golden flame. “Like the Glass showed. Right?”
            Harry nodded, and Draco smiled and sat back a little, although he made sure not to release Harry’s naked body from the warm covering of his own. “Then I’ll be gentle,” he whispered, and Harry shivered violently in a way that had nothing to do with cold or fear.
            Draco glided his hands again over Harry’s ribs, delighting in yet another shiver, and then tilted his head towards the doorway. Severus stood there, and watched with a look in his eyes that Draco had seen before, but not often. It happened when Severus was looking at something he truly desired, a desire that would not release him.
            “It’s all right,” Draco whispered, although he couldn’t have said which of them he was trying to reassure.
            Whichever one it was—or maybe it was all of them, including Draco himself—it worked. Severus shook his head and came forwards, one hand stretched out with the jar of lube cradled in it. Draco took it, and made sure to run his fingers over the center of Severus’s palm. Severus nodded to him, eyes still bright, and stepped back so that Draco could coat his fingers thoroughly.
            Harry had begun to shiver with what seemed to be cold this time. Before Draco could even reach for his wand, Severus had cast a Warming Charm that coated Harry with the feeling of being in front of a fire. Harry sighed and relaxed.
            “I can’t remember the last time someone did that for me,” he whispered.
            Draco would have pursued the statement in other contexts, asked about Harry’s Auror partners and friends, but he didn’t want to. He wanted Harry to enjoy what they could do for him, and that was a lot. He slid his fingers down to Harry’s arse, and around it. Harry caught his breath and didn’t let it go.
            “Harry.”
            Once again, it was Severus who had moved, faster than Draco could have with the position he was in. He cradled Harry’s chin and looked into his eyes. Harry swallowed back what could have been a protest and met his gaze, bending his neck a little to do it. Severus promptly readjusted his position so that Harry didn’t have to hurt his neck looking at him.
            “You can relax,” Severus whispered. “We can do what you need to help you relax. Or you can do it on your own. But either way, if you do not, then Draco cannot be as gentle as he wants to.” He had started long, slow stroking motions down the center of Harry’s back, where his spine pressed against his skin in a taut curve. “We do not want to hurt you. Do you want us to stop?”
            Draco bit back a groan. Merlin, he hoped not. He was hard and so flushed, and although he knew that he could relieve that with a wank if he really had to, what he wanted was to finish in Harry’s body.
            But he watched Harry’s fluttering, trembling eyelashes for long minutes, and he knew that Harry was the one who had to make the decision here. And Draco even wanted him to, although it took him a long moment to think past the clamoring desires of his body. He wanted Harry to, because it would be better that way, it would be stronger. It would be more of what they all wanted, and after his vision in the mirror, Draco wanted to give pleasure to both his lovers in that way.
            And then Harry nodded, such a small motion of his head on the pillow that Draco thought he probably would have missed it if he hadn’t been right behind Harry’s arse. Harry spread his hands out, one of them clasping Severus’s hand, and the other digging beneath the pillow as though he would find something to grip there.
            “I’m ready,” he whispered.
            Draco skimmed a quick finger down Harry’s arse, doubting it for a moment, but he had to admit that Harry’s muscles were much less tense than they had been only a short time before. He nodded to Severus and coated his fingers with even more lube, to replace what had rubbed off in other places on Harry’s skin, and then slid his fingers inside.
            Two at once, which perhaps he shouldn’t have done, but Severus bent over and spoke into Harry’s ear, and then cast a Relaxing Charm. Harry sighed and turned so that his cheek rested on Severus’s arm.
            Draco half-smiled. Well, he had worried that Severus would feel left out because Draco was going to be the first one to take Harry. This was a way to ensure that didn’t happen.
            “I feel…so…” Harry breathed as Draco’s fingers sank into him and twisted, probed, worked, loosened.
            “Unique?” Draco asked, and Harry jolted his head to the side to blink at him, before he nodded with a faint smile and closed his eyes.
            “That’ll do for a start.”
            Draco hummed and slid his fingers deeper and still deeper. He had to spend a lot more time doing this than he would have for most other lovers, but he didn’t mind. It was relaxing for him, actually, to see the way that Harry’s face softened and his breathing evened out, as though he was going into a kind of trance. But whenever Draco thought he might be going to sleep, his body would quiver responsively around Draco’s touch, and Draco would know that, instead, he was on the verge of waking up fully.
            Then Draco saw Harry’s lips forming words, and bent close enough to see that they were, “I’m ready.”
            From the deeply amused expression on Severus’s face, he had seen the message before Draco had. Draco snorted and slid his arms around Harry’s body, holding them still for a second to hide his own trembling.
            Or maybe he didn’t need to hide it, not in front of Harry and Severus. Maybe that was part of the promise of the mirror, when it said that he would have people to trust. Maybe he didn’t have to hide something so simple from them.
            Draco swallowed and slid slowly into Harry, trying for the same trance-like state that he’d used to get Harry ready with his fingers. He didn’t think he quite succeeded, but he did know that Harry was breathing out in little pants of pleasure, instead of being anxious, and he reckoned that he was at least coming close.
            “That feels so good,” Harry said, the words coming out all at once, in a rush.
            Draco smiled, and waited one more moment, to make sure nothing changed. It was also a moment when Severus watched him with brilliant eyes, and the last of Draco’s tension departed his shoulders. Yes, he should have known that Severus would not make fun of him for anything he showed during these moments.
            Because, despite the different visions in the Glass of Heart’s Desire and their different ways of approaching the matter, at bottom they wanted much the same thing: the trust of other people, lovers they could drop their guard around. And Severus wasn’t foolish enough to sacrifice the deep pleasure and honor of such lovers for a moment’s joke.
            “Draco, are you ever going to move, or not? I know I can feel better.”
            Draco blinked and refocused on Harry, breaking his eye contact with Severus. He got it back a moment later, as Severus bent over to kiss the back of Harry’s neck, his eyes glowing in deep amusement at Draco.
            “Yeah,” Draco said, and took a breath that seemed to penetrate far deeper into his lungs than it had any right to. “Yeah, I can move.”
            And he began.
*
Ciara_D: Thank you!
Meechypoo: Thank you for the review! I think Harry’s enjoying it a lot, too. ;)
Brijearin: Thank you so much! And don’t worry about not being able to give constructive criticism; writing good constructive criticism is difficult, so while I’m grateful when I receive it, I don’t think every review has to contain it.
This is not going to be a very long story—only three chapters after this one—so I doubt I’ll be getting into as detailed a backstory as I would if it was longer. However, I am enjoying these versions of the characters a lot, so a sequel isn’t out of the question.
SP777: Or, you know, you could check my author page. ;)
Well, it’s not going to involve D/s dynamics, but Harry is pretty submissive.
havoc tellenoi: Well, since you like my cliffhangers so much, here is another. ;)
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The Glass of Heart's Desire