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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 Four: -Before you can go forward, you must face your past. Sins of the father may bury the son. Harry will find out if a dog really is the man's best friend.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, mention of het rape, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes, angst and a partridge in a pear tree.
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
Harry was floating. Wrapped in a soft and warm cocoon, he was nuzzling against something even warmer and for once, there were no thoughts, no needs. Just him and the heat.
Blinking slowly, he drifted awake. Not startling like he sometimes did after a nightmare, but lingering in the haze between the dreamworld and reality.
He couldn't really remember what he'd been dreaming about, if he'd indeed dreamt about anything really. There were no images, only the feeling of mellow happiness. Smiling, he leaned closer to the warmth he was holding, brushing his nose against bare skin.
Bare skin?
Harry opened his eyes, staring into the darkness in front of him. There was nothing to see, but there was certainly someone lying very close to him, someone he was almost glued onto. Snape. Yes, of course. He was in Snape's bed, arms wrapped around Snape, his face buried in his neck, nose barely inches away from his ear.
He was also hard, a moment away from grinding his erection against Snape's arse.
Breathing very carefully, he lay there for a moment. This was the first time something like this had happened since they came back. With all the stress and pain, he hadn't really even thought about sex.
It was almost frightening how overwhelming the need to simply kiss Snape's neck and mutter as if still half asleep before rolling on top of him was. He wondered if Snape would allow it and let it slide. The way his prick twitched at the thought made him almost groan. He'd got too used to having sex every time he felt like it.
He battled with the idea, but eventually his mind conquered his hormones. It couldn't happen like this.
Trying very hard not to make any unnecessary noise, he moved away from Snape, his whole being aching as he lost the warmth of his body.
Harry slipped out of the bed, praying he hadn't woken the man up.
As he walked to the living room with a fresh change of clothes under his arm, turning on the lights only when the door was firmly shut behind him, he almost wished he'd been brave enough to actually ask Snape what they were going to do with all the things between them. That conversation should happen when they were both calm, composed and definitely not half naked and aroused.
He was half certain that Snape would be willing to shag him -- or at least give him some sexual relief -- if he asked for it, but the mere thought made him grimace with disgust. He didn’t want to use Snape or to have his pity.
His body was definitely not agreeing with his mind. The erection straining against his boxers indicated that touches that came from a sense of duty or pity were better than no touches at all.
Sometimes Harry simply hated his life.
There was no real sense in being angry with his prick, it didn’t really change anything. The annoyance aimed at that part of his body never overrode the lust and need anyway.
He'd better take a long -- and preferably cold -- shower before Snape woke up.
Showering in the dungeons was such a familiar thing by now. Harry grinned as he remembered how weird it had felt to be here for the first time, how he'd been in shock to actually find out that Snape used things like shampoo. It felt like it had happened ages ago, and it stunned him to realize that it had been only six months since that first night he'd spent here.
This place had been so strange then, everything a wonder and a cause for amazement. Now he went to the small cupboard as if it belonged to him, grabbing a clean towel before shedding his T-shirt and shorts.
Harry didn't have to go looking for anything else. The potions he wanted to use were on the ledge. It was a simple, but smart arrangement, considering how many small bottles there were in the other cupboards. Harry didn't want to accidentally wash his hair with hair removing potion or spill something important.
Adjusting the water to lukewarm, he stepped under the spray.
Now was a good time to think of what he wanted to do today. Ignoring his annoyingly persistent erection, Harry grabbed the shampoo and then started to massage his scalp vigorously, as if rubbing his head would help his brain cells to activate better. He was definitely not thinking about rubbing any other body part.
Sirius would probably like to see his diploma, and he would like to see Sirius. After yesterday's revelation, he needed to spend time with his godfather, even though he couldn't tell him why. Maybe he would indeed go to St. Mungo's.
They needed to make certain plans about the move. Harry grimaced at the thought, even though the memory of Sirius nodding before he actually finished the question was a good one. After seven years of sharing a dormitory with three other people, having a whole house for himself felt a bit too much. It would be good to have his family there.
Rinsing his hair, he stood under the water with his eyes closed. His house. It had been a shocking thing to see, the huge rooms echoing with his footsteps. Nothing like the sleepy little cottage, even with the basic furniture giving some resemblance of life to it.
He reached out for the soap without even looking.
So maybe the house hadn't been awful, but he didn't want to move in there yet. He could have a few more days like this, all alone with Snape, spend most of his time curled up on the couch and just be.
Spreading the lather on his chest, Harry smiled. He didn’t know where he stood with Snape, but here he was, staying in the dungeons. Considering the way Snape still let him snuggle against him every night, Snape didn't exactly hate him. Maybe he could work with that even after he was forced to leave this place.
Staying here was somehow better than anything he knew. He liked the complete darkness, the slightly too hard bed. Snape's arms around him, the familiar scents everywhere.
He closed his eyes, the memory of Snape lying next to him bringing more images to his mind. For a moment he couldn't help grinning at that, then the grin disappeared as his body responded to his very vivid imagination.
Without really thinking about it, he rubbed his hand lower, first trying to convince himself that he was just washing, but who was he trying to fool anyway?
Somehow it felt almost forbidden to stand here in Snape's shower, touching himself. He'd much rather touch Snape.
But that wasn't exactly an option right now.
Discarding the stupid need to somehow cover this whole thing up even from himself, Harry braced against the tiles and closed his fingers over his erection. He was too old and had seen and done too much to be embarrassed by simple wanking.
It didn’t take long to rub himself into a fairly satisfying climax. All he had to do was to think about Snape and his hands and that damn dark gaze turning even darker whenever he came, and Harry was soon slumping against the tiles with a very foolish grin on his face.
After washing his body again and making sure he left no evidence of anything else in the shower stall, Harry went to grab the towel. Maybe he’d have a chance to get dressed and get going before Snape woke up.
He spent the minimal amount of time brushing his teeth and then ran his fingers through his wet hair. On mornings like this, he never bothered with a comb. His hair never stayed neat anyway, so why bother? Pulling on his shirt, he barely cast a glance at the mirror.
Since he was going out, he’d better get his robes as well. The sleeves were getting too short again -- or actually his arms were simply too long for them anymore -- but since he didn’t have any interest in going shopping, his school robes would have to do.
He left the towel hanging from the hook and then padded out of the bathroom, ready to face another day.
Harry froze as he saw Snape sitting on the couch. Just when had the man got up? He’d seemed to be fast asleep when he’d left the bed. There was a very familiar tray on the table in front of him and Harry realized that Snape must have been here for a while.
"Breakfast?" There was a flicker of dark amusement in Snape's gaze as he raised the tea pot.
It made Harry blush. He knew that Snape couldn't possibly know what he'd been doing in the shower, but somehow it felt as if he did. A week ago, he'd spent hours shagging Snape almost every day, and now he was feeling stupid about wanking in his shower? "Er... No thank you. I have things to do."
Still, he was glad Snape had thought he wouldn’t want to go to the Great Hall this morning.
Trying very hard not to look like he was running away, he put on his shoes, grabbed the robe hanging near the door and bolted into the hallway. Even though there were no sounds following him, he had the distinct feeling that Snape was laughing at him.
A part of him wanted him to turn around and walk right back to Snape. They had to talk about this sooner or later and now would be a perfect time for it. He hesitated for a moment but then continued on his way. He had lots of things to do today, and didn’t think he would be able to concentrate on anything after arguing with Snape.
Instead of heading to the Great Hall for breakfast, he followed the hallway only to the discreet entrance to the Slytherin rooms.
Harry stood outside the Slytherin common room for some time, trying to figure out if he was indeed out of his mind. He’d had this thought not long ago, and even though he was certain it was one of the most insane ones he’d ever had, he hadn’t been able to push it away.
With Sirius and Remus ready to move in with him, the huge house wouldn't feel that huge. They could live together happily, even though the place would still feel enormous.
There was still room there, for more than one person.
If things were different, he'd ask Ron and Hermione to stay with him as well. The thought was painful as always. He hadn't heard from Hermione since he returned to Hogwarts and he wondered if she was blaming him for all the deaths as well. Ron was staying with his family, and it was unlikely he'd want to live with him and face all the dangers again.
That was the thing he had to consider from now on, his friendship put people in mortal danger. It was somehow easier with Sirius and Snape. They were already hunted, one way or the other.
So was Draco Malfoy.
Sighing, Harry raised his hand and then thumped his palm against the wall, as if knocking. He still didn't really like Malfoy, mostly because of the things he'd done and said in the past, when they had both been too young to really think for themselves. He was willing not to bring up the stupidity from the cottage, but he was definitely not happy about the slightly superior attitude that clung to Malfoy like a cloak.
It was probably not even a conscious effort on Malfoy's behalf.
Still, he didn't hate him either. The thought of the Slytherin staying here alone with no real future made him sick.
That was the main reason for him being here now.
The wall shifted slowly, leaving the doorway open. Draco was standing there, wand pointing straight at Harry's chest. He looked scruffy, as if he hadn't really woken up yet, hair mussed, but his gaze was alert. "Potter. What do you want?"
"We need to talk." Harry ignored the annoyed tone. It was a bit early, so maybe it was the way Malfoy behaved in the morning. How silly that even after months of living in the same cottage with him, he didn't really know.
Lowering the wand, Draco looked over his shoulder, as if wondering if he should ask Potter in or if he should step into the corridor. Neither option sounded good.
"Maybe we could have some breakfast? In the Great Hall." Harry knew that the house elves would bring him and Malfoy breakfast even if the Slytherin didn’t usually go to eat in the company of the professors who were still staying here.
"All right." That sounded good. Draco shoved his wand under his robes and then stepped out of the Slytherin rooms. He didn't say anything to Harry, just started walking towards the more inhabited part of the castle.
Behind him, the door closed slowly.
They didn't talk during the short walk. Harry didn't want to rush with his offer. It was intriguing to go through the corridors with Malfoy; it was somehow revealing. Down in the dungeons, he didn't really care about his outer appearance, walking with his shoulders slumped, but as soon as they reached the outer hallway his demeanor changed, a familiar sneer appearing on his lips.
Climbing the stairs, they came across a few professors, who all nodded at Harry, greeting him warmly. Most of them cast curious glances at Draco, but otherwise, almost none of them acknowledged his presence.
Draco was rather glad for it. He didn't feel like socializing right now. Maybe after Potter had finished with him, he could go back to his room and finally get some sleep.
The scent of food coming from the Great Hall made him straighten up a little. He suddenly realized he hadn't eaten anything for hours, spending the night awake brooding about the joke his life had become. His stomach growled and he rolled his eyes at such weakness.
Harry smiled slightly, but chose not to make a comment.
After a brief look at both the Slytherin and the Gryffindor table, Harry led them to the Ravenclaw tables, gesturing at the end closest to the Head Table. He doubted that getting into a fight about where to sit would make a good start for this. This was probably as neutral ground as they would find here.
Unless they considered sitting on the floor.
Minerva McGonagall was sitting on her usual seat at the Head Table. She smiled at Harry and nodded at Malfoy as sternly as always. It made Harry feel a bit better. At least someone still knew how to act around them.
"Let's eat first." He sat down and a moment later Malfoy followed his example. There were already plates and cups ready on the table and when they were both seated, dishes full of food appeared in front of them. It was definitely different from watching a cranky old house elf carry a tray into the room.
With a start, Harry realized that he actually missed the sight of Eppy glaring and huffing at them.
Draco poured himself a cup of tea, trying not to show just exactly how hungry he was. "All right." Without other words, he grabbed a sandwich and started to eat.
Eating was a good way to relax. Harry remembered the days when he'd first gone to Snape. He'd felt like a real idiot in the dungeons, not sure if he could just sit there and talk. There had usually been a tray full of food and juice on the table, and eating had been a perfect way to mask his uncertainty.
Like back then, he noticed that he was feeling more comfortable when he had finished with eating, enjoying sitting here with a cup if steaming tea in his hand. Malfoy seemed more relaxed as well, looking at him with genuine curiosity in his eyes.
"So what did you want to talk about? Something important going on?" Draco wondered what this was about.
"Have you decided what to do with your life yet?" Harry asked instead of really replying to the question. He didn't believe he should start playing games with Malfoy, even if he tried to goad him into them. It was best to get straight to the point.
The phrasing made Draco raise an eyebrow. "Yes. I'll rather keep it for a while longer." He knew it might be wishful thinking, considering the way things were going right now. "Since I can not go out in the world and live on my own, I guess I must work with professor Snape and your Order of the Phoenix."
Harry nodded approvingly. He'd never expected to hear solemn words about keeping the world safe or fighting against Voldemort on some obscure principle. Knowing that Malfoy's motivations were of self preservation made it strangely easy to trust him. "I guess you're right."
He didn't have any illusions about this thing and neither did Malfoy. It was very close to the curt honesty Snape had always shown him.
"Neither of us can stay at Hogwarts forever. I doubt you'd even want to." Harry didn't say anything about what he might want to, since it was already obvious. He wanted to stay with Snape. "I have a house in Hogsmeade. There's enough room for you as well, if you can stand living with Gryffindors." Seeing the questioning look, he added, "My godfather and Remus Lupin are going to live there as well."
"Your godfather?" Draco had never heard of this. He'd thought Potter had no other relatives than the Muggles he lived with during the holidays.
Harry was a bit thrown at the question, only now realizing that Malfoy didn't probably know even half of what had been going on. He'd seen everything from the other side. Maybe it would indeed be interesting to talk to him about their world and the war, to see how the enemy interpreted things. "Sirius Black. He's my godfather."
It made Draco stare. He blinked slowly, suddenly remembering the small crowd that had gathered in Dumbledore's office after he'd laid his whole life in front of Snape months ago.
Professor Lupin had been there with another man. Sirius Black? He couldn't really believe that. Black was a lunatic, a dangerous escaped criminal, not a groomed man who seemed to be awfully worried about Potter's safety.
But that dark haired man had turned into a dog. Even in a drugged haze, Draco had seen that; a black dog sitting next to the others. He'd been too busy trying not to pass out as he'd sat in the carriage to really think about that then. It did make sense now. His father had told him about the way Black, Potter and Pettigrew had all been Animagi.
No one would believe that the clean and obedient looking animal was actually Sirius Black. He knew Voldemort's people were after him; after a half starved cur. Could this be the reason why they had never caught him?
Waiting patiently for Malfoy to stop gawking, Harry wondered what would happen if he actually accepted his offer. It was probable that Malfoy and Sirius would hate each other and he'd have to listen to more petty bickering.
He didn't really mind. At least it was something he was used to. He trusted they'd manage to survive the whole thing.
"You are asking me to live with you, professor Lupin and Sirius Black in your house in Hogsmeade?" Draco couldn't help asking that. He was completely stunned by the easy way Potter had made the offer. Not like he was doing a favor to Snape -- which was probably the core of the offer anyway -- but like he meant it.
Harry nodded. "Yes."
"Hmm." Raising his cup to his lips, sipping the already cooled tea, Draco thought about it. Staying in Hogsmeade would be better than being here, all alone in the rooms that brought back a multitude of happy memories of times gone by.
He didn't know what his function in the Order would be, if he was indeed accepted into it. Living with Harry Potter would be a step into the right direction.
There were things that he needed to think through, though, starting with the most important. "I don't know if I would be able to pay rent, Potter. I assume my funds have diminished since my last stay here." He hid all his pain under the stiff words.
No more Malfoy money for him. Leaving his family so abruptly had left him Knutless.
Even though Harry wanted to laugh at the pompous way he said that, he kept his expression straight. The talk about money -- or the lack of it -- was familiar after living for years with Ron. "I don't expect you to pay anything. But we'll share the chores. Just like at the cottage."
Draco nodded. He'd assumed that much. It was a relief that he didn't have to live on charity. "Can I think about it for a few days?" He didn't really need to think; there weren't any better options. He simply didn't want to sound too eager to agree to this.
"Of course." Pushing back the bench a little, Harry nodded and stood up. "I’ll be moving the day after tomorrow, so you might want to make up your mind before that. Let me know what you decide and we'll talk more." There were things he needed to discuss with Malfoy anyway, but not now. They both needed some time. Being able to sit here and actually agree on something was already a big step. He didn't want to rush things.
Besides, he had other things to do right now.
Draco sat there for some time after Potter left. He was tired, but didn’t want to go back to the dormitory yet. There was much for him to think about right now.
The offer had come as a complete surprise. On the rare occasions when he’d met with Snape, the professor had never once mentioned anything as outrageous as this. He had simply concentrated on the most essential exams that had allowed him to leave school, going through the whole thing only because Snape had pushed him.
How strange that his whole world had once again changed, and as usual, it had been a change to the worse. Feeling slightly annoyed by the whole mess with Ron Weasley had been nothing compared to the gnawing anxiety in his belly now that he’d heard what had happened at the Weasley hovel.
Potter had to know the same thing he did and he was still asking him to live with him? It was incredulous. Apparently Snape did indeed have a bigger influence on their hero than he’d ever imagined.
Not that it was really a surprise.
Draco finished with his tea and got up quietly. He didn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention right now, even though he knew that if he really did accept Potter’s offer, people would keep staring at him.
He sneered at that. People were already staring. They were waiting for him to make the slightest of mistakes and then whisper together how he was just like his father.
Head held high, he walked calmly out of the Great Hall, ignoring the way his former professors followed him with their gazes.
As soon as the door behind him slammed shut, there would be whispers. He didn’t care, concentrating on Potter’s words. He really had no option but to accept it. Without any funds or connections, he would be dependant on others. At least Potter had made it sound like something else than charity.
Hurrying back towards the dungeons, Draco was too lost in thought to see the slim figure step out of the shadows. He stumbled into someone, almost tripping them both.
Only his Seeker reflexes saved them both from falling on the floor.
"What? I... Oh, professor." He cursed silently as he realized he'd walked into professor McGonagall. What a perfect way to start his new life amongst Gryffindors.
Draco opened his mouth to apologize, his hands loosening their grip on her arms. The apology died on his lips as he saw the almost animal panic in McGonagall's eyes. He shrunk back a bit, unconsciously mimicking her flinch.
He didn't know what had brought out such a reaction. Even though the Transfigurations professor had sometimes shown them her feline form, she was never as skittish as a cat. Now it looked like she'd hiss and claw at him if she could.
It made him shiver. Even after all the suspicious and pondering looks the professors had thrown at him, he still wasn't used to this. Didn't want to spend the rest of his life being the object of such glances.
But this wasn't suspicion. This was horror and panic, laced with something that almost looked like rage.
His voice shook a little as he said, "I'm sorry, professor." He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, the very unfamiliar words tasting stale in his mouth. "Didn't mean to startle you."
There was a brief moment of tense silence before McGonagall shook herself, as if shrugging off an unpleasant dream or a memory. "It's quite all right, Mr. Malfoy." Her tone was impeccable as always, but the words came out strained.
Too polite.
"I..." Draco didn't know what to say to her. "I'm sorry." There were the words again, bubbling out of his mouth as if he couldn't hold them silent.
He had never liked McGonagall, seeing her essentially as a Gryffindor and therefore a rival no matter how her family was as pureblooded as his was. He'd never wasted one thought on her before this spring. Still shaken by the sudden collision, he stood there, staring at her, trying very hard not to remember seeing Snape carry her bloodied body into the Great Hall months earlier.
The hard expression on McGonagall's face softened slightly as she looked at him. Nodding, she repeated, "It's all right." This time she sounded like she actually meant it. With another nod at him, she walked past him.
Draco stood there for a moment, dazed. He was never going to understand Gryffindors. Not even if he lived to be as old as Dumbledore.
Trying not to think about it, he continued on his way downstairs.
He needed to make a decision, and it would probably be the best if he had some advice from the Head of his House.
