by Draeconin

Beta: Brenna Starr, aka Phoenix
For story details and disclaimer, please see chapter one.

Chapter Nineteen


"Remus, what-" Harry interrupted himself when he saw his old friend wasn't alone.

"Oh. Hello, Professor Snape. Won't you both come in?"

For once, the potions master didn't make a snide comment.

"How are you doing, Harry?" the werewolf inquired, just as they entered. Business could wait.

"I've been doing much better, lately," Harry said with a mischievous grin. "I don't recall - have you met you my husband, the former Draco Malfoy?"

Remus stopped dead in his tracks, consternation playing freely on his face. "Husband? Malfoy?" With a visible effort, he pulled himself together. "Why are you with a Malfoy? What game are you playing, Harry?"

"Oh, it's no game, Lupin," Snape remarked dryly. "I had the misfortune of being at their wedding."

During this by-play Draco had joined his husband, and Harry had drawn him into his arms. The Slytherin wasn't sure he liked being shown off like this, but he would have been uncomfortable with the werewolf in any case, so he let it be. He felt a bit safer with Harry holding him.

"It's true, Moony. It began as just a means of providing Draco with more legal protection from his father, but I couldn't be happier," the dark-haired lad explained. "But as glad as I am to see you, what are you doing here?"

"I've been re-hired as the DADA instructor," the bewildered man said. "Dumbledore said you'd left the grounds with another student, and sent Snape and I..." He turned to the potions professor. "You knew!" he accused. "You knew, and you didn't inform me! Why?"

"I thought it would be amusing," Snape drawled, with a smirk. "And it has been."

"Why, you..." Remus started snarling, but remembering the presence of pupils, and his newly-acquired position, he controlled himself.

"Why don't you sit down, Moony?" Harry invited, again. "Or should I call you 'Professor', now?"

"I am here in an official capacity, Harry," the former Marauder replied, then turned to sit in the only empty chair in the room, Snape now occupying the other one. "But I want to know more about this... this relationship."

Harry moved to the bed, holding Draco's hand, and they made themselves comfortable - Harry leaning back against the bedhead with Draco sitting very closely, and leaning on him. Wrapping an arm around the blond's waist, the green-eyed young man addressed his older friend. "What would you like to know?"

The former Gryffindor took in how comfortable the two young men were with each other; the kind of ease that only comes from being with a trusted lover. "How did this all come about?" he inquired

With minimal prompting from Harry, Draco again told his edited tale, and unlike the last time, got through most of it before his husband had to take over.

"... and that's pretty much it in a nutshell, Remus," Harry summarised, with a shrug.

The werewolf's eyes narrowed with suspicion. Since he had senses quite a bit sharper than normal humans, he could hear minor tones in a voice, smell odours, and detect minor muscle movements that others might miss - and he knew how to read them. "You're hiding something, Harry," he accused.

"A few things," Harry admitted uneasily, "but we're not ready to talk of them, yet. What we've told you is the truth. The rest... "

"The rest really isn't any of your concern, Lupin," Snape interrupted, coming to their rescue. Both boys looked at him in some surprise.

The werewolf rounded on the man and was about to retort, when Harry intervened. "I'm sorry, Remus, but it really is better if you don't know, both for your safety, and ours," he said. "As far as I know, only two other people know the whole story: Professor Snape, and the headmaster."

Snape nodded in confirmation.

Lupin growled, unhappy with being left in the dark, but subsided, and turned back to the boys on the bed. "And - your husband? His smell is off. If I didn't know-" He interrupted himself as Draco paled, his hands clutching Harry's.

The werewolf, noting the reaction to his words, just nodded. "Not here," he said.

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and noted that his husband had gone a bit limp in relief. Their relief was short-lived, however.

"And you are not at the school because?" Professor Lupin asked.

Harry noticed the change in tone and demeanour, but it was Draco, whose body had stiffened with the question, who replied with some indignation. "Because a certain old bearded gent, who bears a remarkable likeness to a billy goat, decided he could order our lives and our time outside of school hours without consultation or reference to the general behaviour of polite society. To whit: asking for our cooperation."

"So Professor Dumbledore told you to do something instead of asking, and you decided to run away from home?" the werewolf summarised.

It sounded so childish, the way Remus put it. "Almost," Harry said, casting a hopeless, but pleading eye at the potions master for help. But since the man hadn't been a witness to the headmaster's cavalier ordering of their lives... "But... "

The professor of potions interrupted yet again, to Harry's great surprise, and relief. "If I know our esteemed headmaster, he likely made plans that included these two," he sneered, "lovebirds, and told them what they were going to do without talking to them about it."

"Exactly!" Harry exclaimed, at the same time as Draco's clipped "Quite."

"And this excuses your leaving school grounds because... ?"

The werewolf was relentless!

"When we - I - demanded that we be treated with more respect, he threatened to expel us," Harry revealed. "That made me angry, and I told him if he wanted to do that then he should just do it; that we could either go to another school, or hire tutors." He blushed as he then admitted, "Then I told him we weren't going to be indebted to him even for our lodgings, so we packed, and left."

A strange sound came from the potion master's direction.

Upon looking at the man, Harry noticed that he had his head bowed, one hand held to his forelock, hiding his face. His shoulders were shaking, and strange, choked-off sounds kept coming from him. "Sir?" he ventured. All three of them were looking at the greasy-haired man with concern. "Professor Snape? Are you all right?"

All at once Snape threw his head back, and the other three were witness to a terrifying sight: Severus Snape had tears of laughter running down his face as he started howling with mirth. No-one had seen the professor with so much as a genuine smile, in years. That he was now almost helpless with laughter seemed, at the very least, to be cause for concern. What could have caused it?

"P- p- perfect D-Dum-Dumbledore - stymied! By a - a child!" the man finally managed to gasp out. Dumbledore had built up such a reputation for knowing everything, having an answer for everything, and being in control of every situation - or at least appearing to be - and in one fell blow, Harry had ruined his record. Harry-bloody-Potter had called the old wizard's bluff, and utterly thwarted him. It deeply appealed to Snape's Slytherin character.

Harry was affronted, and looked it. He might be young, but he was hardly a child! But then the humour of the situation sank in and a slow smile spread across his face as they all sat there, watching what might well be a once-in-a-lifetime event, and waiting for the man to get himself back under control.

As the potions master's laughter subsided, he noticed everyone looking at him, which prompted him to regain his normal demeanour, and dour expression, quickly. Producing a handkerchief seemingly from nowhere, he dried his face and eyes. "If any of you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone..." he threatened.

'Who would believe us?' Harry thought.

"Don't worry, professor; we won't ruin your reputation as a sour, humourless bastard," Draco said, smirking. The two Gryffindors looked at him, not believing their ears. A Slytherin not taking advantage of a situation? "But now that you're here, I do need some assistance with - ah... a few potions."

Ah. Harry understood. Blackmail.

The werewolf looked as though something had been confirmed for him, as well. "Nausea?" he asked the blond.

Snape ignored them both. "Potter," he began. When both boys looked at him expectantly, he scowled and began again. "Harry Potter..."

Draco was grateful for the diversion; it allowed him to avoid answering the werewolf's question.

"To avoid confusion, Professor, why don't you just call me 'Harry'?" the green-eyed young man suggested.

Severus gave a short nod, in acknowledgement. "And you may call me 'Professor Snape'. It will make a change from your usual familiarity," he said dryly.

Harry gave the man a sharp look. Had that been humour?

"As I was saying - Harry - you have redeemed yourself. Anyone who can foil that old fool..." he trailed off, fighting a smile, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Harry looked at the man, astonished. But as the saying went, 'the proof is in the pudding'. There were other matters that needed attending to. "So am I to take it we haven't been expelled?" he asked.

"I think you know very well, Mister Potter, that he wouldn't do that," the potions master replied.

Harry smiled ruefully. "Not while he needs me to be his weapon, anyway," he acknowledged.

Snape's estimation of the boy went up. His wording didn't imply ego, but a feeling of being used. That, plus his face-off with the headmaster, argued an acknowledgement that he was seen as more of a tool than a person; at least by the headmaster.

"You will need to serve some sort of punishment for leaving school grounds, Harry," Remus said, rejoining the conversation.

Harry shook his head. "No," he replied firmly.

"Harry's right," Draco affirmed. "What we did was impulsive, but it wasn't wrong."

"Thank you, love, but I was the one who put us in this predicament; not you," Harry replied. Looking back up to the two teachers, he said, "But I will not accept a punishment for doing what I felt I needed to do to protect our rights," he continued, interrupting his husband's beginning attempt to argue the point.

Snape nodded. "If the headmaster insists, I will insist on seeing to your punishment, and make sure it's token. However," he continued, riding over the boys' attempts to thank him, "your stunt with young Mister Creevy will not be so easily handled. Professor McGonagall has some words to say to you two in regards to that subject. I believe your - punishment - of him was quite appropriate, considering the reports of the incident I've heard, but I don't recommend you try the same tactics with that woman as you have with us."

He allowed a small smile touch his lips. "It was that very Slytherin act that made me agree to come after you two, tonight. Your doing, Mister.. Draco?" he inquired.

The blond shook his head, with a smirk. "All Harry's idea, actually. I wanted to put him in a body bind, turn him red, and run him up a flag pole, starkers. But 'Pisceum Veridicus' was so much more fitting, don't you think?"

The dark-haired professor smirked as well, but didn't reply.

"I'll accept any reasonable punishment for that. I just hope Creevy learned his lesson," Harry said.

Remus had been sitting there listening to all of this, and not believing his ears. This didn't sound like the Harry he knew; this sounded like another Slytherin. He kept waiting for 'Harry' to make an appearance, and he hadn't. He commented on the fact. "Harry - you've changed."

The dark-haired boy nodded. "I have responsibilities," he replied. "We're a family now, Draco and I." He smiled at his husband as he added "And, I guess, I stopped being afraid of my Slytherin qualities." Looking back to his friend, and now teacher, he continued. "I stopped being afraid of myself at the same time," he added.

Unfortunately that last statement just confused the werewolf more. "What? Why were you afraid of yourself? You never mentioned anything...?" He was feeling quite lost. He had grown quite fond of this boy, and now he was finding that there were parts of Harry's personality he hadn't even known existed. That didn't change his feelings, but it did make him feel quite adrift.

Harry shrugged. "I'm sure Dumbledore already knows. The Hat probably told him. And I can count on your discretion?" he asked, aiming the question at both men. At Lupin's nod, and Snape's indignant scowl that it could be doubted, he continued. "The Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. I asked it to put me in any other house - it did."

Snape's face went blank, but the look on Remus' face was priceless, and Draco pressed his face into Harry's shoulder for a few moments to muffle his sniggering as he tried to regain control. Harry just grinned.

"And your reason for refusing Slytherin House?" the potions master asked stiffly.

"I'm afraid I was largely responsible for that, Professor," Draco quickly said, sobering. "I'm afraid my attempts to impress Harry were a bit off the mark."

"You were a factor, love," Harry agreed, "but Hagrid made it sound as though only bad people came out of Slytherin." Seeing Snape's scowl, he quickly amended his answer. He didn't want this man angry with the friendly half-giant. "That's not exactly what he said," he explained. "He said all the witches and wizards who went bad came from Slytherin. But everyone I talked to said similar things. I know it's wrong now, but I didn't know anything about the wizarding world, then." He groaned to himself. That wasn't much better, although it was the truth.

"Hagrid's really a nice person, just a bit... mixed up at times," he said, hoping to salvage something.

Snape's face remained a mask, hiding any feelings or reactions. "We'd best be getting back to Hogwarts," he said.

Having put his friend in a rather sticky situation, Harry was more humble. "Yes, sir," he replied.

Draco looked at him in some surprise, since they hadn't planned to return until morning. Seeing Harry's expression, he understood, but... "Actually, Professor," he said, "we plan to return in the morning. We've already paid for the room, and would like to make use of it."

"You've damped all the room surfaces, then?" Snape said with a slight smirk.

Draco blushed.

The smirk grew. "So you're planning a platonic evening? Or were you planning to encourage the townsfolk to increase their population?" he asked, flatly.

That remark earned a sharp, quizzical glance from the new DADA professor, but he filed it away to follow up at another time.

"No need to rub it in," the blond muttered mutinously.

"Then I suggest you get off that bed and return to your... rooms," Lupin, who had extraordinarily sharp hearing, replied, before the potions master could sling yet another barb. "I assume you're no longer in your respective dorms?"


They had only been gone an evening, but returning to those rooms felt like putting on a pair of stale y-fronts: uncomfortable, at best. Finding a note from Professor McGonagall on the tea table in front of the sofa to report to her first thing in the morning did nothing to assuage that feeling.

Harry magicked a fire in the grate to take the edge off the chilly dampness, and Draco expanded their trunks and luggage before they went to bed. They were feeling somewhat defeated, and cuddled to comfort each other.


The next morning as they were showering, running their hands over each other as they always did, Harry ran his hands over Draco's buttocks. "Have I ever told you what a lovely arse you have, love?" he asked, sexily.

Affecting a bored tone of voice, the blond drawled, "So tell me something I don't know," then couldn't help smirking a bit.

Harry smacked that piece of anatomy.

"Ow! That stung, you brute!"

Harry snickered, while soothing the spot he'd smacked. "Brute? That's so gay, love!"

Draco smirked, nuzzling the Gryffindor's cheek. "Well, in case you haven't noticed..."

Harry held him closer, suckling on his husband's pale throat, the Slytherin arching his head back to give him better access.

The green-eyed young man reached down, grasping his husband's hardness, and slowly stroked it, eliciting a moan from the blond. With a lightning-quick move, Draco brought his head up, dislodging Harry from his neck, and fastened his teeth lightly on the Gryffindor's neck, alternately suckling, licking, and biting, creating a livid love bite in the process.

Having made his mark, the blond dropped to his knees, wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, and buried his face in his husband's crotch, the hard length of his husband's cock laying up alongside his head, and inhaled deeply. The warm water had washed away most of his husband's scent, but the slightest trace of muskiness remained, igniting a fire in Draco's brain. Opening his mouth, he engulfed Harry's length, then slowly slid it most of the way out, swirling his tongue around the head and under the foreskin, then licking the slit, tasting the slightly bitter saltiness that told of leaking pre-cum, then moving his mouth in a twisting, swirling movement as he again took in his husband's hardness.

Draco's initial move had taken Harry entirely by surprise, anticipating his own plans for the blond. But passion claimed him as his husband's mouth drove him nearly insane from the suction and sensations. They had only tasted each other once before this, so where had Draco learned what he was doing? Right now he didn't care, but he filed the question away for later.

Draco caressed his lover's thighs as he worked on the hardened flesh that gave him so much pleasure in bed, then cupped Harry's bollocks in his hands, gently rolling them, and tugging on his husband's scrotum. Harry's hands moved from running his fingers through his blond hair, to his shoulders, and back again.

"Oh, Draco... Gods, that feels - ahhhh... Mm... Yes, love," Harry moaned, encouraging his lover. His husband's ministrations were having the desired effect. He could feel the pressure, the tension, building. Taking Draco's head in his hands, he started thrusting, his husband taking all of him, the blond swallowing in order to keep from gagging as his length plunged repeatedly into the Slytherin's mouth and throat. "Oh! Draco! I'm..." And then he was spurting, flooding his husband's mouth and throat. To his surprise and alarm, considering the expertise he'd shown with his fellatio, Draco started choking and sputtering, fighting to get off Harry's length, to breathe.

Fighting the effects of his orgasm, Harry dropped to his knees, wrapping one arm around his husband as the warm water continued to rain on them, and with the other lifted the blond's now-gasping face to his, so he could determine his state. "Draco! Are you all right! Did I hurt you? Gods, I was so stupid! I-"

"Harry, shut up," Draco said abruptly, his breathing evening out. "I'm okay. I just wasn't expecting - so much! I mean - I've seen you come before, but I didn't realise... "

A confused frown on his face, Harry carefully said, "But surely you've done that before. You couldn't be that good on your first attempt?"

Draco lifted a hand to Harry's cheek, caressing it. "I told you about the dildos? Well..." his face was blazing.

Harry was blushing as well. "And of course there's no..."


"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"I already told you, I just wasn't..."

Harry was shaking his head. "No. Not for that. For thinking you'd... Not that it would have made any difference!"

"What are going you on about?" Draco asked, sitting back on his haunches.

"Well... You know... Other guys?"

Draco frowned. "You couldn't know, I suppose."

"We're sixteen; I couldn't have blamed you if you had," Harry said apologetically.

The blond's frown deepened. "You?" he asked.

The dark-haired young man shook his head again. "No. I had opportunities, of course, but-"

"So did I, Harry," Draco interrupted coldly.

Harry gently kissed the cheek that was presented when Draco's lips were turned away. "As beautiful as you are, I'd be surprised if you hadn't," he said gently. "I'm even more surprised that you didn't take advantage of them."

"I'm a pureblood, Harry," Draco said aloofly. "And pure-blood's don't engage in casual sex."

"And that's codswallop, pet," Harry said, amused. "What's the real reason?"

Draco's blush traveled clear down to his sternum. "You do realize that we're having this conversation nude, kneeling in the shower? We're going to miss breakfast and have to go to classes hungry. And we still have to see McGonagall," Draco said, trying to avoid the question.

"Draco... ?"

The blond refused to meet his husband's eyes. He mumbled something that Harry couldn't quite catch, even as close as they were.

"What was that?" the Gryffindor asked.

"I said..." Draco swallowed, then expanded on what he'd been going to say. "You spoiled me for anyone else, Harry. First I wanted you for a friend, then... Then when I realized I wanted you - the other way, nobody else was good enough. No one else measured up." Finally looking his husband in the face, he said, "I don't do casual very well, Harry. I just couldn't do it. The furthest I could go was some snogging. And even that didn't feel right," he confessed.


The blond's face twisted into a mask of disgust. "My - sire's idea of a suitable match," he sneered.

Harry hugged him in sympathy, then got to his feet, reaching down to help his husband up as well. "You're not showing yet," he noted, as he took in his husband's form.

"It's only two months..." A panicked look crossed Draco's face. "Two months, Harry! Pomfrey said she'd be able to tell if..."

Harry gathered the naked, wet young man into his arms. "Later today, all right? We've a lot of other things to take care of as well. McGonagall can wait. You need to eat, and so do I." He gave the blond a long, lingering kiss, full of promise. "And sometime today, I'm going to try to give you the same pleasure you just gave me," he said huskily.

Draco shivered. "You're evil, Harry! Now I'm not going to be able to think of anything else!" he complained. "Why don't we skive off Herbology?"

The Gryffindor gave a low laugh. "I think we're already in enough trouble, pet," he said, turning off the water and reaching for the towels.

Draco pouted, hoping to change his husband's mind, but only received a chuckle in reply. "Not going to work today, my love," Harry asserted fondly, but apologetically.

After a rather rushed breakfast, they walked to Professor McGonagall's office. They only had about fifteen minutes before their first class.


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