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sua_layAuthor: 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.
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
There were many things Snape had done during his years as the Head of Slytherin. Nothing could really surprise him anymore. Gryffindors weren't the only ones drawn to dangerously stupid acts, even though his Slytherins usually stopped to consider the matters before acting foolishly.
This past school term had been full of shocks on more levels than he could really count. As a matter of fact, he tried very hard not to think about most of them. Sadly, this was something he couldn't ignore.
He stared at the young man standing before him, wondering if there was something in this cottage that made teenagers act even more stupidly than usual. Maybe there was a curse or even something wrong with the water, but it did seem like the youngsters were completely overwhelmed by their hormones. The evidence before him supported his theory fully.
He took a deep breath and thought about the things he had just heard, wondering if he was the only person on earth to whom they actually made sense.
Probably. But then again he had grown up playing these same games. With that in mind, he glared at the young man.
"So you claim that while you did perform oral sex on Mr. Weasley without actually asking for his permission first, he never said no, nor did he try to fight you."
Draco's ears felt hot. He wasn't used to hearing that from Snape. "Yes, sir."
It made no sense, really, for he knew Snape must have seen and done things he could only imagine. But talking about sex with him was still strangely embarrassing.
Looking disgusted, Snape got to his feet and walked to the shelf on the other side of the room. Draco didn't follow him with his gaze, staring at the floor was much more comfortable.
"Are you willing to repeat that after taking some veritaserum?" Snape's expression said that he'd better have no objections to it.
The memory of days of grogginess and a very unpleasant taste in his mouth attacked Draco, almost making him shake his head. He never wanted to experience that again. But of course he would if Snape wanted him to. "Yes, sir."
With someone else, the softly spoken words would have been enough. Snape never valued the show of honesty above a good truth potion. Without a word, he held the stopper out and nodded as Draco opened his mouth obediently. One single drop fell on Draco's tongue.
"Did Mr. Weasley say anything that indicated that he wanted you to stop?" Snape asked, relieved by the way young Malfoy promptly said no.
The answer was the same to all his questions. No, Malfoy hadn't used any curses or charms to subdue Weasley. No, he hadn't threatened him or restrained him in any way. No, he didn't understand what the fuss was all about.
That last bit had been painfully obvious from the beginning. Even though Malfoy was excellent in showing whatever emotion he wanted, the shock had been genuine. Snape was certain of that. The veritaserum was simply proving his words.
"Drink this." Snape handed Malfoy a glass of water. The serum he'd given him was diluted enough to last for only a few minutes, so soon they would be able to discuss this matter without Malfoy's eyes glazing over.
It was good, since they had a lot to talk about.
Herding these idiot children towards adulthood? Not likely. Snape wondered if one had better luck with sheep. At least you could eat them if they acted foolishly.
There was a certain resemblance between teenagers and whatever mindless animal he could think of. Controlled by hormones. At least animals had instincts and ingrained survival skills.
He let out a soft sigh. Not all teenagers made a complete mess of it. Harry for instance had been able to discuss it before jumping into his bed, consequences be damned. It had not been the easiest conversation ever, but at least they had managed to avoid this sort of a mess.
Of course with someone like Harry, there would probably be other kind of trouble later on.
Snape would have to talk to young Malfoy about the difference between them and the Gryffindors. He should have done it immediately after they'd arrived here, but he had never thought the boy would take his game anywhere near actual sex. He should have better taste than this.
Having a sexual encounter with a Weasley was definitely not high on his list of things to be envious of. After watching the redheads line up to Gryffindor year after year, he'd been glad to know he'd never have to deal with them personally.
Let Minerva deal with them. She had better patience for empty headed pranksters.
The well known animosity between the Malfoys and the Weasleys should have been enough to prevent something like this from ever happening. Snape had to wonder what had caused Malfoy to even think about Ronald Weasley in any sexual way. Nothing in their history suggested that there was such an attraction between them.
He also wondered why Weasley hadn't said no. There had been previous incidents where the redhead had been more than happy to use physical force against Malfoy. What had made him stand there and allow a touch that was so obviously distasteful?
Shrugging that thought away, Snape concentrated on young Malfoy who was looking a bit green around the gills, but completely aware of his surroundings.
He didn't need to find out about Weasley's motivations. His job was to make certain this never happened again.
Upstairs, Harry was sitting on his bed, careful not to say anything as Ron paced back and forth. It made him feel a little dizzy, but he couldn't blame him for needing to walk out all his nervous energy.
This was better than the gagging. Or the cleaning charms Ron had insisted on putting on his prick earlier, wincing every time he released the charm.
The silence was a good thing as well. Earlier, there had been ranting and raving and a very awkward moment when Snape had escorted the very puzzled -looking Malfoy away. Harry had hated the way Ron's voice had broken when he'd stopped calling the Slytherin names and started to berate himself.
It made him feel so helpless. Even after the very disturbing things they had talked about in the Order meetings -- mostly the inner circle -- Harry still didn't know what to say to a friend who had sort of been assaulted even though not really.
His decision not to say anything at all and just sit here was proving out to be the right one. Ron was definitely calming down a bit. After a few more walks from the door to the window and then back again, he slumped down on the bed and buried his face in his palms.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry asked, hesitation in his voice. He didn't think he'd want to talk to his best friend about something like this. Not when it was all new and raw.
He had always thought sex was a private matter, not something to gloat about. He'd never shared tales or snickered at anyone behind their backs, not even when a partner had turned out to be lousy in bed. Definitely not when someone he'd shagged had spent the next day giggling with other girls from their year, telling everyone that she had shagged the great Harry Potter.
Ron lifted his head from his hands just long enough to shake his head firmly. Then he slumped back into his previous position.
"Is there anything I can do?" Hoping there would be an angry quip about slamming Malfoy with the obliviate -- or a fist -- didn't really work. Harry watched Ron shake his head again. "Okay."
There was a long silence, broken finally by a muttered cleansing charm Ron once again aimed at his groin. Then there was more silence, followed by yet another charm.
Harry was certain the charm wouldn't be such a good idea, but he didn't want to repeat his offer to take Ron down to the river to bathe. He could understand how he didn't want to spend any time naked even with his best friend.
They both jolted as someone climbed the stairs and then slammed the door next to theirs shut. Since there were no other sounds, Harry let out a sigh, relaxing again.
He hated this feeling of helplessness, knowing he wasn't really helping. Ron looked like he'd rather not talk about anything, probably wanted to be left alone, and he wondered if he should just do that. He didn't know how to ask. Any platitudes of resting now and talking about it tomorrow would sound hollow.
"I... Do you want to come downstairs with me? I need to talk to Snape." Harry knew that he would know what to do next. Even with his very annoying habit of favoring his Slytherins, Snape wouldn't be partial in this. That had been obvious from the way he'd looked at them earlier.
Surprisingly, he hadn't looked angry, but simply resigned. His words had been curt as he'd told Harry to take Ron upstairs. The way Snape had taken action had been a relief. Harry didn't want to deal with something like this right now.
This time Ron managed a few words out, sounding like they came from between clenched teeth. "No. You go ahead. I'll stay here."
"Okay." Maybe it was better this way; him talking to Snape without distractions and Ron being able to have some privacy. "I won't be long."
There was no reply to that.
Getting to his feet, Harry walked past Ron, glad he didn't flinch at his closeness. A thought hit him and he asked, "Do you want me to get you some sleeping potion?" It wouldn't really change anything, but he doubted nothing could right now.
Ron didn't say anything. He simply nodded.
There was nothing more to say. With one last look at Ron, Harry left the room and padded downstairs.
He didn't really know what to think about what had happened now that the first wave of anger had passed. Ron had said Malfoy hadn't forced him into anything, said he'd liked it even though it had been disgusting. It made no sense at all, but maybe to Ron it did.
He'd seen so many weird things during his life, he didn't really want to speculate on people's preferences. But the way Ron was so clearly horrified by his own actions right now was quite alarming.
Feeling crummy, Harry headed towards Snape's room. The very familiar guilt was nagging at the back of his mind, reminding him of all the times he'd shrugged off the weird looks between Ron and Malfoy.
He should have done something to prevent this.
The problem was that he couldn't think of anything he could have really done, except spent more time with Ron perhaps. Shaking his head slightly at his silly thoughts, he decided not to say anything about them to Snape. The man would undoubtedly tell him he wasn't the center of the universe and not everything revolved around him.
Which was true, no matter what some people in the wizarding world might want to think.
Going to talk to Snape like this was strange. It made him feel like he was somehow outside the normal circle of friends, acting like he was responsible for Ron instead of just being a mate.
He didn't want to be responsible for his friends. Didn't want to be reasonable and see that there might be more to this than Malfoy being a total bastard who was using Ron, but his years of being coaxed towards the legend that was the Boy Who Lived prevented such willfull blindness.
Harry didn't know whether to thank or curse Dumbledore for it.
It was quiet downstairs, and Harry hesitated a moment before walking to Snape's door. This was so different from his usual trips here. For a second, he had absolutely no idea how to act right now. Then he shrugged the thought off as imbecilic. He never needed to pretend with Snape.
"Yes, come on in, Potter," Snape's voice answered to his knock. He sounded annoyed. No surprise there.
Harry pushed the door shut behind him, but didn't step farther in to the room. This was not the time to stay here and relax. "Not exactly a good evening, is it?" Never mind platitudes.
"No." Shaking his head, Snape let out a weary sigh. "I would definitely not call it good." The things he had to deal with... He shrugged the thought off and asked with a firmer voice, "So how is Mr. Weasley doing?"
"I don't really know." Now that he didn't have to worry about Ron seeing, Harry let go of the calm mask and grimaced. He had an awful headache. After a few badly slept nights, he really wasn't up to this right now. "I think he could use some sleeping potion."
He didn't want to make this all about his own problems, but he had to add, "And to be quite honest, so could I."
"More nightmares?" Reaching out for the small bottles on the shelf, Snape cast a knowing look at him.
He didn't need to see the curt nod to know he was right.
"They're not as bad as... You know." Fondling the offered vial nervously with his fingers, Harry refused to look up.
He didn't want to get into this right now, not when there was something more important waiting for him upstairs. He didn't want to start yet another conversation about Voldemort killing people. The nightmares didn't feel like those dreams, they felt almost like regular bad dreams, like ones he'd had years ago back at Privet Drive.
Harry hated the relief that flooded him when he realized that now there was no chance of them even considering having a conversation about the war. Quiet evenings spent together in the living room were an impossibility now that Ron was having a nervous breakdown upstairs and Malfoy was probably in his room drugged to his eyeballs.
Snape saw that Harry wasn't going to continue, so he said it out loud himself. "They still don't feel like prophetic nightmares? Or like when the Dark Lord kills people?"
"No." With a note of finality Harry shook his head.
Raising an eyebrow slightly, Snape said, "This will be enough for both you and Weasley. A good night's sleep is an excellent idea. You can have a talk with your friend tomorrow, when you've both rested."
He knew for a fact that this was a conversation he would never have. Trying to talk to Weasley about simple things was bad enough, talking to him about matters of sexuality would be too much. "Unless of course you think I should..."
Harry let out a cough that was somewhere between a strangled laughter and an obscene word. "Er... No. I think I can handle this." Considering everything that was going on, he knew Ron would definitely not want to talk to Snape about anything that had to do with sex. "So what can I tell him? Do you have any idea what really happened there?"
"I talked to young Malfoy. He is..." There was not really a term Snape could use that Harry would comprehend. He wasn't certain he did either. "He assures me that your friend never told him to stop." Seeing the anger in Harry's eyes, he added, "Under Veritaserum."
Harry wanted to say something nasty at that, but he knew he really couldn't. "I know. Ron said he didn't say no." He still had no idea why.
There had always been some weird tension between Ron and Malfoy, but he'd never thought it had anything to do with sex. Ron said he liked girls, and even with the silly hair, no one would mistaken Malfoy for a girl.
"They are both over age of consent. As of today, Mr. Malfoy is also regarded as an adult by the pureblood traditions. He did nothing illegal, even if his behavior can easily be viewed as slightly immoral."
"Oh. Okay." Harry hadn't known that. It was Malfoy's birthday? That explained some things, but it still didn't make things right.
He didn't think anything could, really.
When Snape didn't say anything, he muttered quietly, "I still don't get it. Why would Ron just stand there and... You know. He doesn't like Malfoy like that. Or at all. So why didn't he just..." He really didn't mean to blame his friend. He just wanted to understand him.
"I assume Mr. Weasley was overwhelmed by Mr. Malfoy's actions." For once Snape chose not to add anything about Weasley's obvious mental capacity and how anything could ovewhelm him. "Neither has been aware of what the other one was really saying or doing and that lead to this highly unpleasant situation."
He wished Poppy would include these kinds of things in the sexual education classes. Then again he could understand why she didn't. The class was probably a nightmare even with the basics; teenagers with hormones.
"You're probably right." It made sense, and this way there would be no real blame on anyone.
"Yes." Snape nodded. "I have explained to Mr. Malfoy that such games are not acceptable and he has assured me he will not continue them. To be quite honest, he was completely stunned by the way his actions could be interpreted. To him it was nothing but harmless pastime."
That had been the easiest thing to comprehend; the almost arrogant blindness in the young man, reminding him of so many other people who believed that everything was simply a game.
Harry didn't know what to think of the way Snape talked about this as if it was somehow expected. "You don't seem very surprised."
"I'm a Slytherin. You know what else I used to be." As usual, there was a distinctive self-mocking tone in Snape's voice as he said the last words, as well as a note of finality forbidding any comments. "Nothing really surprises me anymore." At least about these things.
"Oh." Harry had no idea what to say to that. The whole idea was somehow disturbing. There were lots of rumors around, about both the Slytherins and the Death Eaters. Most very good fodder for nightmares.
"I can't really lay all the blame on him," Snape mused out loud. Seeing Harry's raised eyebrow, he added briefly, "I have known Lucius Malfoy since we were both teenagers. He is not what one would call a lenient parent. Or a friend."
A brief silence followed the words, as Harry's eyes lost their focus. He felt nauseous, understanding all too well how Snape would know such a thing. He tried not to think about it too much.
It was impossible to block out the images flooding his mind. He knew the way Voldemort's people treated others. Why not their own as well? Games of violence and dominance sounded about right. Mind games and control overshadowed by sheer physical brutality.
This was not the time for this. He needed to concentrate on Ron. But he couldn't help wondering just how many things he'd misinterpreted about this man.
Looking straight into Snape's eyes, he said, "I know you're still thinking you made the wrong choice when you helped professor McGonagall. But I for one am really glad you don't ever have to go back to those bastards." He had to say that out loud.
Snape swallowed at the all too calm tone. The honesty in the words was almost overwhelming. Harry sounded like he really did care about what happened to him, and not just in the annoying Gryffindor way that made his teeth ache. "Yes." It came out quietly.
He was certain he should be angry at the solemn way Harry was looking at him. There was no way the idiot would have the slightest idea of what he was talking about, but the obvious outrage in the green eyes was unsettling. There was no pity in them, and he could tell that Harry was indeed...
Maybe there wasn't even a word for it. At least not in Snape's vocabulary.
"Yes, well, I'll take this to Ron then." Holding out the vial, Harry shifted his weight from one foot to another. He could see a very awkward silence approaching and couldn't really handle another one of those right now.
"Remember there are two doses of the potion there." Without waiting for any reply, Snape gestured at the door, a clear indication that he wanted to be alone. "Good night."
"Good night, Snape."
Holding the potion tight in his fist, Harry walked out of the room.
He didn't linger downstairs, even though he had to wonder if Ron wished to be left alone. Probably not. After all, Ron didn't seem like a person who wallowed all by himself. With his brothers and Ginny and all the other Gryffindors, he was probably more used to having lots of people around him all the time.
Once he reached the small hallway upstairs, Harry cast a long look at Malfoy's door. He was annoyed at the Slytherin, but couldn't help pitying him as well.
He had to wonder how they'd be able to live here from now on. It would probably be awfully awkward.
Sighing, he went to see how Ron was doing.
Nothing had really changed, even though he had been gone for some time. Ron was still sitting on his bed, looking disgusted. His hand was squeezing his wand tight as the door opened, and Harry knew for sure that if it had been someone else coming in, Ron would have hexed them without hesitations.
"It's just me!" Harry said quietly. He hated seeing Ron like this. "I got you the sleeping potion."
He had never liked the idea of muffling all the pain in potions, even though he'd never tell Snape that. It just felt like the absolutely wrong way out of his problems, a coward's way. This time he was determined to have Ron drink the potion and get a good night's sleep. His friend looked like he was going to crumble any moment.
Since there was no indication Ron had really heard his words, he walked slowly to him and handed him the vial. "Here. Drink half of it and you'll sleep like a baby."
Ron grabbed the vial with trembling hands, looking miserable. "Thanks, Harry." He stared down at his hands, not making a move to actually drink the potion.
"It'll be all right." Knowing he sounded really lame, Harry shrugged. It didn't really matter as long as it told Ron that he was here for him. That was the important thing.
After a moment of silence, Ron looked up at Harry. His eyes were brimming with tears. "I just... I'm sorry I'm making such a mess. I bet you wish I was back at Hogwarts right now." He hated the whining sound of his own voice, but couldn't help himself.
He had seen the way Harry had been so damn eager to go to spend time with Snape. He'd also had a lot of time to sit alone in their room and think. It was obvious that Harry didn't need him here, probably didn't want him here either. Harry's life would be so much easier if Ron was back at school with Hermione.
Everything made him feel like he was just a great nuisance, some kind of a weight Harry was dragging around out of obligation. He hadn't been a very good friend lately. Harry didn't need him, not anymore. He had his secrets and the Order and Snape. Why would he still be interested in hanging out with him?
The black miasma of self-pity was swallowing him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Everything seemed to be totally lost now.
Harry's hands curled into fists. He could only stare at Ron, white hot rage flaring inside of him. Allowing it to show on his face, he growled, "Don't be such a bloody git, Ron!"
The anger penetrated the misery and Ron flinched as he saw the way Harry looked at him. "I..."
"I know what you meant, and I'm telling you, you're wrong! You're my best friend, Ron. My best friend. I don't care if you do stupid things. It doesn't change the fact that I want you here."
Harry saw Ron nod slightly before squeezing his eyes shut tight. He was quiet for a moment, knowing that Ron was fighting against tears, giving him all the time he needed to compose himself. When Ron let out a shuddering sigh, he added, "You should take the potion now. We can talk more in the morning."
"Yeah." Voice rough, Ron raised the vial. He hesitated for a moment. "You don't have to sit here with me, you know. I mean... You can go and... You know?" He couldn't say it out loud.
"Just drink the damn thing, Ron." Exasperation and amusement were clear in Harry's gaze as he nudged his friend. "I'm not going anywhere."
He sat there patiently until Ron lifted the small vial to his lips. Seeing him start to sway, he grabbed the vial and put it on the table just as Ron collapsed on the bed.
The sun was setting outside, the shadows growing inside the bedroom. Harry didn't care about them. He didn't need the light. Sitting next to his sleeping friend, he thought about how insane everything felt right now.
He hadn't realized how bad Ron was feeling, how his stays with Snape had left him completely alone. He'd never thought that Ron would have doubts about their friendship. As if he would just dump him now that he was kind of seeing someone.
The old guilt was growing inside Harry. He could recognize it well, but it didn't help him to chase it away. The truth was that he did want to spend his time with Snape now. Like Ron had once wanted to spend all his free time with Lavender, sneaking into the Astronomy tower to have a moment of privacy with her.
It wasn't the same here. He didn't want to make Ron miserable by leaving him alone, because unlike when he'd simply spent more time with Hermione when Ron had been seeing Lavender, Ron couldn't really hang out with anyone else out here.
Feeling a strange mixture of both anger and pity towards Malfoy, Harry wondered if the Slytherin would leave Ron be from now on. Something made him think he would. It was probably the look in Malfoy's eyes as he'd followed Snape earlier.
The next days would tell. Right now, Harry wasn't sure about anything.
He'd never cared much about confusion, even though living in the wizarding world taught people to at least tolerate it. Life was just too complicated, not only now, but always. He wished he could define things more easily, have things he could be certain of.
Harry sighed as he lay down on his own bed. He should never have allowed the happiness to lull him into feeling that everything was going to be all right. It never was.
Not in his world.
Feeling the familiar emptiness gnaw at him, he reached out for the vial. He'd promised Ron to be here, so he would, but he couldn't just lie here awake thinking about things, or he would be heading to Snape's room in a few minutes. Spending time with him was better than a potion.
But he had given his word to Ron.
The liquid looked dark in the faint light coming from the window. It tasted dark as well. Earthy, moldy. Harry preferred the natural taste of it instead of the sweetened concoctions Madam Pomfrey usually offered. The taste exploded on his tongue, making him feel the strength of the brew rush through his whole body.
A familiar feeling, like the moment after the most unforgivable of curses, when every part of you felt more alive than ever. The strongest, most frightening feeling Harry knew. It even surpassed the awfulness of feeling completely empty.
Then there was nothing but darkness.
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Date: 2006-08-15 06:58 pm (UTC)*wraps you in my fur* :D
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