Fic: No Hiding Place book Three: The Cottage (1/28)

[sua_lay]

Title: No Hiding Place: Book Three: The Cottage (1/28)
Author: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Three: -Does being a good guy mean you also have to be a nice guy? Draco is about to find out. Companionable silences and fist fights are a good way to hide deeper emotions.
Warning: This part contains mild violence, explicit sex between men, confusion about sex (not non-con really!) and as you can guess, angst.

Once again, I'll post one part every other day, except when I'll take a short vacation at the end of July.

The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.

BOOK THREE
The Cottage

Part 1

Ron had never minded traveling via portkeys. He'd done it ever since he was a little boy, when people complained about the mess the Weasley family made every time they all traveled through floo. Nine people shooting out of a sooty fireplace was not the best way to keep the host's living room clean.

It was different for Harry.

Sighing, Ron rolled to his side, squinting his eyes in the dark. He could hear Harry's even breathing, but wondered if he was dreaming anyway. Sometimes the Draught of the Living Death didn't work well, even if it was brewed by a Potions master.

Like this one had been.

It had been a long day. Ron rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Definitely a long day. It seemed like the morning with Hagrid's announcement that the Jarveys they were supposed to study were suffering from stress related rashes had occurred weeks, and not simply hours ago.

Things had seemed so normal back then. Studying for the N.E.W.T.s, bickering with Hermione. Trying not to stare at professor Pahicna too hard when she entered the Great Hall for lunch. Even though Ron still considered professor Lupin the best DADA teacher they'd had, he definitely thought their current one was the best looking.

Everything had gone downhill from that point. Ron wasn't sure what had triggered it. One moment he'd been talking to Seamus, making comments about Quidditch. The next, Harry was making a big ruckus, clambering to the main aisle. Trying to stop whatever stupid thing that drama queen Malfoy had planned.

Or at least that was what he'd thought at the time.

Malfoy. It all came back to that arrogant bastard. If he wasn't making fun of him and turning his life into a farce, he was destroying the peace and forcing them into an exile.

Ron refused to let himself think about what the blond menace had also done. He definitely didn't want to see anything good in him; mainly because all the seemingly nice things he was doing were a hoax. He just knew it!

And why the hell couldn't he sleep anyway?

He was sure everyone else in the cottage was asleep already. Harry was making a weird wheezing sound as he slept. Nothing new there. Malfoy had been in a drugged haze ever since they'd left Dumbledore's office, so he was probably sleeping somewhere as well. He didn't know about Snape, and frankly, didn't really care.

All he wanted was to get some sleep. Snore away the couple of hours before dawn.

The sleeping potion would have been an excellent solution. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought about it like that when Snape had offered it. He'd been too worried about Harry then; about the way his friend was really pale and shaking after that last trip via portkey.

He'd wanted to talk about it with Harry. Since Ron wasn't completely ignorant, he knew it was probably about something that had happened years ago. Neither he nor Hermione had ever asked about Cedric's death, but they could draw conclusions from what they'd seen and heard from others.

Snape had destroyed that good idea with his potions. Ron had been a bit surprised to see Harry actually look gratefully at the git. There should be no reason for gratitude, none whatsoever! Not when he and Harry were stuck in here with the worst two Slytherins in the history of Hogwarts. Not counting the original one who had kept pet basilisks or the one looking like one these days.

It was truly annoying. Especially now that he was lying awake here in the middle of the night. In the middle of nowhere. Feeling bummed.

Keeping his gaze focused on the ceiling, Ron tried to banish all thoughts from his mind. Wallowing wasn't really helping. It just kept him awake, pushing sleep even farther away.

This whole thing was just stupid.

Ron was still thinking morose thoughts about certain Slytherins and the idiotic mess they'd made later, when the moon was hanging low, and sleep finally claimed him.

The bright rays of the sun made their way slowly across the room, at first illuminating a path on the floor, then reaching the small bed. Unerringly, they shone into the sleeping boy's face.

Blinking, Harry tried to figure out where he was, and why was everything so darn bright.

It was never like this in the dormitory. The sun never shone in during mornings, and even if one was to take a nap during the afternoon, when it would get really bright in there, the beds had heavy curtains that could be drawn to keep out the light. But there were no curtains around this bed.

He stretched, wondering if he should just stay in bed until he figured out exactly where he was. His bladder didn't really approve of that plan, so he sat up. Seeing the plain wooden wall made him blink.

No. He was not at Hogwarts anymore.

Fuzzy memories of the previous day came back slowly. He could remember everything up to the lunch hour, including Malfoy's unbelievable actions. He remembered leaving Hogwarts; the sight of Hermione standing at the door with her robes billowing all around her was etched into his mind. Everything after that was a blur.

There had been hours in a small carriage. Then a small house, where they had flooed somewhere. From there, a walk to another house. Yet another flooing. The secrecy had been a bit annoying, but even Ron had seemed to understand the reason for it. They'd followed Snape and the nearly comatose Malfoy without questions.

Harry remembered the lone beer can in the middle of the road. Yes. Then there had been the portkeys. Three of them, to be exact. The can, a shoe, and a broken umbrella. Three unbelievably hard jumps through distance.

He shuddered. It had been awful. It didn't matter how much he disliked flooing, it was nothing compared to using portkeys. There were so many bad memories around travelling via portkeys. Death and destruction. Always seemed like he was to blame for all the carnage he left behind. Or took with him.

Swallowing against the flood of nightmares that never waited for him to be actually asleep, Harry got out of the bed. He looked to the left and saw Ron sleeping on the other bed, curled beneath his blankets. Careful not to wake him up, he padded to the door and sneaked out.

The floor felt cold under his bare feet. He didn't really care, the need to go was urging him on.

It was quiet in here. Harry walked to the only other door he could see and pushed it open. Squinting his eyes, he could see a small room with only one bed in it. A platinum blond head rested on the pillow.

Malfoy.

Since he really didn't want to deal with him right now, Harry backed away, and shut the door again. It didn't matter how messed up he'd been last night. Malfoy had been worse. By the time they'd reached their destination, the Slytherin had been as white as a sheet from all the vomiting.

Probably something to do with ingesting veritaserum on an empty stomach. Snape hadn't really explained. He'd just guided him away.

There was a linen closet next to Malfoy's bedroom. Nothing else.

Harry walked down the stairs, looking around in wonder. The small cottage seemed ancient. There were paintings on the wall, mostly landscapes, but also a few portraits. The people in them were asleep. Everything was quiet.

Downstairs, there was a living room with two old, but comfortable looking couches. A huge fireplace was on one wall. No logs could be seen anywhere near it. Next to the living room was a tiny kitchen that was followed by a dining area. Harry walked through it, wondering if there was actually something to eat around here.

There was more pressing business than hunger.

He passed by one more door. Hesitating for only a second, he walked to it. There were no wards set on the door, so he pushed it open slowly.

"You know, it's polite to knock when you go into someone's bedroom." No sign of sleepiness in the sharp voice. Snape was sitting on a chair, fully clothed, with a book on his lap.

Harry smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that. Didn't really know this is your room." He managed not to wince at the snort. Of course this had to be Snape's room. Where else would he be sleeping? "I was actually looking for the loo."

"There are no facilities inside the cottage. There's an outhouse. Go out of the front door, and then to the left." Snape gestured with his hand at that, as if not certain Harry could tell the difference between right and left. With some of his students, it really was a touch and go.

An outhouse? Harry's smile faded a bit. He couldn't remember ever using one. There was no way he would ask for instructions, though. He would draw the line somewhere, and this was it. "Thanks."

Snape raised an eyebrow at that, but decided not to comment. When Harry started to turn away from the door, he said, "Don't go wandering around. No one should go farther than the outhouse alone. None of us."

"Yeah." Harry nodded. There really wasn't such a thing as a safe hideaway for them. Not completely safe anyway.

He put shoes on, grabbed a heavier robe and stepped outside, looking around with curiosity. The trip here had been hellish, and he had no idea where they were. They could be anywhere. It looked a bit familiar out here, so he figured they were still in the northern hemisphere. Other than that, he didn't know.

The outhouse was a small one, but clearly visible due to the fact it was painted red. Harry took care of business, grimacing a little as he couldn't wash his hands right afterwards. There had to be a way to take care of that. Maybe a bail of water or something, so he didn't have to touch his wand with dirty hands. He settled with wiping his hands into grass outside.

Now that he wasn't in a hurry anymore, he stood outside the cottage and looked around. The place looked habitable. There were trees behind the outhouse; not enough to make a real forest, but seemed nice anyway. Some large boulders to one side. Bushes. Some kind of plants that looked suspiciously like heather.

Harry walked around the cottage. On the other side was a small river, flowing by slowly. Someone had molded the shore at some time, creating a place where clothes could be washed. Or people could bathe. There even seemed to be a pier there. He was eager to go and take a closer look, but knew that such disregard of Snape's words would be stupid.

He could go out on an expedition later with the others. No need to go and probably get lost straight away. He wasn't that curious about their surroundings.

Turning back to the rather pretty landscape, he surveyed the cottage for a moment. It looked even older from the outside. Obviously made of logs. Somehow reminding him of the Burrow, even though it was smaller, looking sleepy, frozen. As if no one had lived in here for ages.

No one probably had.

He kind of liked the cottage. It didn't seem intimidating. However, it wouldn't be easy to live here with Ron, Snape and Malfoy under the same roof. He wondered how long it would take until they got into their first fight. Not long, he guessed.

Harry went back inside, opting not to go back to bed. He didn't feel sleepy anymore. That was the up side of the sleep potion; you were always well rested, no matter what. Then if he went upstairs to unpack his trunk, he'd just wake Ron up, and everyone knew how cheery he was in the mornings.

He simply wasn't up to facing that right now.

Harry thought about going to see Snape again and use the quiet moments to talk about this whole thing. The decision to leave Hogwarts had been a sudden one, but he was sure it had been the right one. There were still many things that needed to be discussed.

It would probably be best to have that conversation with everyone present.

The loud growling of his stomach reminded Harry that he hadn't eaten a thing after lunch yesterday. Still wondering if there was anything to eat in the small kitchen, he went to investigate.

He didn't get farther than to the dining area. There was a sound coming from the kitchen, and a moment later a tray hovered towards him, clearly carried by someone who was muttering to themselves.

The small creature seemed to almost vanish under the huge tray. Harry stepped to help, lifting the tray on the table. As a reward, he got an angry glare from clear brown eyes.

Blinking, he stared at the house elf. From the simple dress -- that looked like it had been a table cloth in a previous incarnation -- he deduced that the elf was a female. An old, wrinkly female. Her skin was weathered, almost greenish in color. Her ears were a bit drooped, but she looked determined.

"Eppy will handle the tray." Her voice had a squeak in it, not the most pleasant sound. As an afterthought, she added, "Sir."

A rude house elf who didn't fawn over him? Harry wondered if she'd been Snape's personal assistant at some point.

It wasn't easy to stand back and watch Eppy set the table. Her hands didn't exactly shake, but she managed to make the whole thing look like there would be a pile of porcelain shards on the floor any moment now. She kept muttering to herself quietly as she put the tea cups on the saucers.

When she was finally finished, she stood there for a moment, wheezing. Her ears quivered with every intake of breath. "Is there anything else Eppy can do?" Once again the short pause before the sullen, "Sir."

"No thank you, Eppy." Shaking his head, Harry tried to keep his expression sober.

The only reply he got was a huff. Eppy took the empty tray and started to waddle towards the kitchen. It looked amazing, since house elves usually just vanished after finishing with their business.

As if lured by the scent of the tea, Ron pushed the door open a moment later, earning a baleful glare from the house elf. He stopped still at the doorway, making the two Slytherins following him bump into each other. It caused even more glares.

Harry managed to hide his smile until the house elf was out of the room. Then he grinned. "She acts just like Yoda." Seeing blank looks on everyone's face, he shrugged. "A Muggle thing."

Since his explanation produced one confused nod and two sneers, he sighed, and decided not to waste any of his admittedly few pop culture references on these people. They were hopeless. Instead of trying to explain more, he simply walked to the table. Eating was always a good distraction. At least it could hide a really uncomfortable silence if needed, and it definitely looked like there would indeed be one coming up.

Ron rushed to sit next to Harry. The thought of having to sit next to Snape and Malfoy wasn't really appetizing. Even though having the ferret sit across him wasn't all that great, either. Well, at least he kept his mouth shut, and his gaze on his plate.

That way Ron didn't have to waste time glaring at him.

This was beginning to seem like the field trip from hell. Almost two and a half months spent with them would be a nightmare, but Ron was glad he hadn't abandoned Harry. He could handle Malfoy and Snape. He wasn't so sure his friend could.

"Pass me the butter please."

Flinching at the cold command, Ron looked up at Snape. Then he focused his gaze on the small bowl of butter. No one made a move. Surely they didn't expect him to give Snape the butter? Not even though technically he was the closest person to him.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the bewildered expression on Ron Weasley's face. The fact that Harry was so obviously trying not to laugh wasn't really helping. Sighing, Snape repeated, "The butter. Please pass me the butter, Mr. Weasley. I'm certain such a task isn't beyond your capabilities."

"I... Sure." Feeling heat rise to his face, Ron grabbed the butter and then handed it over to Snape. Damn it!

"Mmh." The curt nod and the sound could be interpreted as a thank you.

Harry got up and reached for the teapot. He definitely didn't want to see what would happen if Snape asked Ron for tea as well.

He poured the tea, filling Ron's cup half way, leaving enough room for milk. After filling Malfoy's cup and his own as well, he placed the pot back on the table. Snape always wanted his tea dark, brewed so strong it made people spit. He didn't use sugar either, enjoying the tar in his cup unsweetened.

"Thanks." It was the first thing Draco had said since yesterday. He didn't look up from his cup.

The extremely unusual word made Harry blink. He could see how Snape looked pleased with the courtesies and wondered if that was why Malfoy had said it. "Oh... Well. You're welcome."

Ron waited for Malfoy to add something nasty. When he said nothing, he glared at him anyway. Sooner or later there would come the punch line, some kind of a cruel joke or a curse.

Keeping his gaze fixed on the table, Malfoy didn't say anything else.

"All right, then." Pushing his plate away from him, Snape glared at the three teenagers in front of him.

This wasn't exactly the way he'd envisioned his life; forced to play a nursemaid to students. He'd agreed with Albus' assessment of the situation, though. Staying at Hogwarts would have been foolish.

He didn't want to fight his own students, mainly because he knew his Slytherins. They would do anything to make sure the people who they were supposed to destroy would indeed suffer an agonizing death. He had known that when he'd seen young Malfoy get up and walk to him across the Great Hall. The sight had made him squeeze his wand hard, pointing it at the boy under the table.

On the outside, he'd appeared as cool as ever. On the inside, he'd felt sick. It had been the beginning of the end.

Then the impossible had happened. Draco Malfoy had turned his back on everything he knew.

Snape's dark gaze bore into the boy, wondering what he was thinking right now. He had no idea, for he had never had the courage to do anything like this. Spending weeks with him here in the middle of nowhere wouldn't be exactly hard. He was smart enough not to bother him with trivial chatter and would know to stay out of his way.

There would be things they needed to discuss, new guidelines to draw. For all of them.

He turned his gaze to the two Gryffindors, and allowed the sneer spread to his face. "We are going to spend the next several months here, but this is not exactly a vacation, gentlemen. This is not a hotel, and I am not here to make sure you're all entertained." Unless of course, they considered being left alone as entertainment.

Before Ron could stick his foot into his mouth by making a comment on that, Harry nodded and said, "Do you think we'll be safe here?" He had no idea if the others knew where they were. The landscape outside had looked familiar. Watching the sparse trees and the hillside covered in small bushes and heather had reminded him of home. Hogwarts.

Either they were still in Scotland, or they'd been transported somewhere in Siberia. He doubted the latter. Dumbledore wouldn't try to sneak them that close to Durmstrang.

"Of course not." What a foolish question.

"Huh?" This time Ron managed to get the sound out before anyone else had the chance to say anything.

"There is no place that will be completely safe for us, Mr. Weasley. Vo..." The familiar suffocating sensation prevented Snape from finishing the name. "The Dark Lord and his followers will do everything they can to kill us. Mr. Malfoy and I are traitors to their cause and we all know how much they want to see Potter dead."

What a strange thing to actually have anger raise at the thought. Snape had always been dispassionate about rescuing the hope of the wizarding world. He'd only done it because Albus wished it and because even though he didn't want to, he had felt he was in debt to the idiot child's father. That had been simply because of duty; it was different with this young man with the haunted eyes and the unexpectedly sharp wit.

No one said anything to that.

"Because of that, we can not drop our guard outside the house. There are wards around here, as there would be in every wizard home, but they do not reach very far. If you go anywhere beyond the outhouse, you should have someone to accompany you."

Draco blinked at the words. He didn't think he could really ask Snape to be his tourguide around the place, and he'd be damned if he gave the two Gryffindors the satisfaction of having to beg them for protection. That meant he'd probably have to stay at the cottage for the next months.

And what was an outhouse anyway?

"Keep your wands with you all the time. You should practice drawing them in haste and then aiming." Since there were no objections, Snape added, "Later on, we should probably train at dueling as well."

He knew that the Order had trained Weasley and Potter and that the young Malfoy was adept with both Dark Arts and the defense against them. Still, one was never too prepared.

Harry nodded at that. "Good idea." He couldn't be there to protect Ron all the time.

"Yes, sir." Draco didn't really know what good practicing would do. He was living on borrowed time, knowing he would be targeted as soon as they left here. No amount of training would make him strong enough to face the Death Eaters. Especially when he knew exactly who would be sent after him.

The only answer Ron gave was a grunt.

"Good." Reaching out for the teapot, Snape poured himself a cup of tea. Then he leaned back on the chair slightly. "There are also things we need to consider about our living arrangements."

He didn't wait for anyone to say anything. This wasn't exactly a conversation.

"You can do whatever you wish in your rooms. However, I will not tolerate any ruckus after dinner time. Is that clear?" The question was a threat, answered by three nods. "Good. If you need me, I will be in my room downstairs."

Ron didn't think he'd ever be desperate enough to actually go knocking there. Spending time alone with the greasy Potions master sounded about as fun as having Hagrid cook for him for the rest of his life.

Sipping from his cup, Snape avoided Harry's gaze. The relief shining there was not only annoying, it was also disturbing. He put the cup back down. There was one more thing. "We are all going to share the chores here. Eppy will take care of the cooking, but that's it."

It was clear that the house elf wouldn't really like that, but Harry had to agree with Snape. Eppy was by far the oldest house elf he'd ever seen. It would feel really stupid to allow an old person to wait on them.

"No one's going to weasel their way out of working simply because they don't know how. It's not an excuse." Snape cast a knowing look at Draco. He doubted the boy had never washed his own clothes or even made his own bed in his life.

Ron was bristling at the comment, wondering if Snape had just insulted him, or him and Harry. Weasel his way out indeed. Did the git really think Harry had been pampered his whole life?

"That sounds good." Lifting his gaze from his tea cup, Harry smiled. He was used to doing chores, a thing he'd shared with Snape during their talks. His life with the Dursleys wasn't a thing he liked talking about, but he had mentioned the basics of his life amongst the Muggles. The way he hadn't exactly liked his relatives. The holidays spent mostly studying for the school year.

He hadn't spoken of the cupboard. Or the bars on his window. Or the way Uncle Vernon still found it necessary to berate the world he lived in, how Dudley had used everything he'd found in his room as a weapon against him. He didn't want Snape's pity.

No real relationship between two people -- any real contact -- was based on pity. Or worship. Two things he would never, ever get from the man, that was certain.

Snape knew it would take some time for their routines to go smoothly. It was annoying, really, but it couldn't be helped. He couldn't teach Malfoy about chores now. They had more important things to discuss.

"Good. Potter, you'll wash the dishes, then."

"Okay." This was like back in the Potions class. At least washing cups and saucers was much easier than scrubbing cauldrons clean.

Ron wondered if the scowl would become permanent on his face. He should have known Snape would order Harry around and then get up and head for the door. Some things never changed.

He was going to make sure his friend wouldn't be treated like scum. His mum had made him do chores often enough. Helping Harry wouldn't be a big thing. Ron just wished the two Slytherins would go away, so he could talk alone with Harry. Maybe after finishing with the dishes, they could go out for a walk or something.

"Mr. Malfoy. Follow me." Without other words, Snape left the room, Draco in tow.

Ron let out a deep breath. This was going to be hell.

---

Comments

[ravenrosebud.livejournal.com]

I've been patiently waiting and book three is finally here. *jumps up and down* This was a great start, thanks so much for the update!!

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

Well, they say that patience is a virtue... :D

[effie-chan.livejournal.com]

Yay!!! New chapters! This is going to be interesting ;) I guess Ron will need some time to get over his prejudices. I'm curious to see what will happen next. :D

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

Yup, it's going to be a bumpy ride... And yeah, Ron is such a teenager through and through. Fortunately he still has some time to grow up.

*smacks him on the head*

[duskspoken.livejournal.com]

loved it! I'm so glad you're finally posting it again :D I love this story so much. :D

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

:) Worked my poor beta almost to death... But yup, posting again!