Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/169329.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/_Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Severus_Snape
  Series:
      Part 1 of From_Great_Moments_in_Death_Eater_History,_Vol._II,_1995--
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-03-11 Words: 702
****** Keeping the Faith ******
by ishafel
Summary
     Love in time of war.
"What can I do?" Draco asks. "How can I help?"
Pray, Snape thinks, but does not say. He sets the boy to mixing Healing Potions
instead.
It is winter, and they are losing the war. The two things are not related.
Bellatrix Lestrange is dead. Fenrir Greyback is dead. Anton Dolohov, Marion
Parkinson, David Crabbe, Alizarin Goyle, are dead, and their sons and daughters
with them: two generations of Slytherins destroyed in a single season. The Dark
Lord is a madman and his Death Eaters are fools.
Snape chose his side when he killed Dumbledore. There will be no reprieve for
him this time, no second chance, no Azkaban. All he can do now is live, or die,
with the Morsmordre. He is not quite resigned to it.
Loyalty has certain rewards. The Dark Lord has given him the littlest Malfoy
for his own; this is an offer Snape feels quite sure Dumbledore and the Order
would have been unable to match. He has never had a pet of his own before.
Draco is not always precisely willing, which is a great deal of the fun. Snape
finds in him the ideal distraction. He is a pretty, pretty boy, and Snape has
always been fond of pretty boys. Now Dumbledore is no longer around to prevent
him from bruising them. Snape is dimly aware that a year ago this would have
troubled him. They are losing the war. These two things are not related.
The boy finds the mark on Snape's arm fascinating. He runs his fingers over it,
soft as a man's last breath, when he thinks Snape is sleeping. He is not
marked, himself, because the Dark Lord found him unworthy. Snape is grateful
for it, grateful that there are no marks on Draco Snape has not put there.
He scrapes a knife blade gently over Draco's nipples sometimes, but he never
cuts him. It is his fear Snape loves, not pain. The boy is perfect, because no
matter how many times Snape threatens him and fails to follow through: each and
every time Draco is afraid. Fear is the defining fact of his existence.
What Snape likes most is to catch Draco's narrow wrists, delicate as a girl's,
behind his back and tie them. He likes to bend Draco over the table in the
kitchen, which is exactly the right height. They have done this a hundred
times, at least, and Draco still fights him every time. Snape likes to fight as
much as he likes to fuck.
Sometimes he doesn't bother with lubrication, and those times are his
favorites. Draco is very, very tight, and the position he's in makes him seem
even tighter, smaller, more fragile. Somehow, no matter how frustrated and
upset and confused Snape is, pushing his way into Draco makes up for it. Snape
is in love for the first time, and they are losing the war. These two things
are not related.
Draco always fights in the beginning, and he always gives in in the end. Snape
is not sure which he finds sweeter. The rigidity of Draco's body, the marks his
nails make on Snape's arms--or the soft yielding sighs Draco makes as he
climaxes, the way that afterward he presses his forehead against Snape's
shoulder and leans against him, warm and soft and heavy and trusting.
Snape comes to him sometimes still in his Death Eater's robes, with the mask in
his pocket, blood on his hands and the Killing Curse still shaping his mouth.
Those are the times Draco does not turn him away, the times Draco stands with
him in the shower and strokes his mark with sorrow as much as curiosity. He
loved his father, who is dead because he was marked the way Snape is marked.
Sometimes Snape is too tired even to fuck, and they lie together in his bed:
two tall thin men, with shoulders broad enough to touch no matter how close to
the edges they lie. Draco talks to him softly, as he would to a child, and
Snape sleeps and dreams of Potions ingredients and sex.
They are losing the war, and Snape is happy. These two things are not related.
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