Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/70125.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Severus_Snape, Harry/Snape/OMC
  Character:
      Ron_Weasley, Hermione_Granger, OMC
  Additional Tags:
      D/s, Bondage, Prostitution, Roleplay, Smoking, Teacher-Student
      Relationship
  Series:
      Part 3 of The_Finder_Series
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-03-13 Chapters: 4/4 Words: 13652
****** Winter's Sport ******
by GatewayGirl
Summary
     Harry and Ron continue to fight about Bill; Snape sneaks Harry off to
     London for some decadent fun with a side of danger.
Notes
     Author's Warnings: D/s, bondage, student/teacher, smoking,
     prostitution (OMC), roleplay, and inappropriate use of stationery
     supplies
     Canon-Compliancy: OotP
***** Living with the Consequences *****
"I don't want anything to do with him, and I don't want anything to do with
you!"
Harry scowled back at his allegedly best friend and found himself wishing, not
for the first time, that he had done something bad enough to deserve this.
"He was insufficiently paranoid, Ron! He wasn't malicious; he wasn't even all
that stupid, to be honest. He took what he thought were --"
"He killed Dean! He might as well have killed Dean! And you're writing him a
fucking letter?" Ron seized the parchment from under Harry's hands, crumpled
it, and stomped on it, turning into a muddy mess smeared with blotched ink.
Deciding what to write to Bill had not been easy. Harry felt anger rising in
him in a cold wave. "I stopped him. I can write him if I want to."
"Oh yes -- you and Snape, noblylying to everyone --"
"Wouldn't have worked if we hadn't, now, would it? He didn't know he was giving
away secret information! What if someone had been monitoring you? You wouldn't
have known, either!"
"I wouldn't be that STUPID!"
The anger took over and brought Harry to his feet. "You are," he said
viciously. "You're that stupid all the time." The moment he turned, he needed
to run. Other than a pause to duck through the portrait hole, he didn't stop
until he was two floors down from the entrance to the tower.
He had to stop himself there. If he had taken the time to grab his cloak, he
would have continued on to the dungeons. Visible, though, he could not, no
matter how much he wanted a smoke and a mind-numbing fuck. He rather hoped Ron
would come looking for him. A fistfight sounded like a good alternative.
Ron didn't. It was Hermione, instead, who came walking down the stairs, her
steps slowing as she approached him. She sat on the stair beside him and set a
hand on his knee.
"Can I guess?" she asked wryly.
"Probably."
"He'll get over it."
"Maybe not before I start to hate him."
Still, his hand came up, and the fingers interlaced with hers, and he stayed
silent when she said, "You don't mean that."
She sighed. "Ron doesn't manage certain things well. You know that. I know
that. We've been through these things before."
"Not when people have died." The words came out quickly, almost before he knew
they were there. He felt ill. Hermione let go of his hand and put an arm around
him.
"Don't." He pushed at her half-heartedly.
"Shh."
"Ron will get the wrong idea."
"Well then, I'll have to clear things up for him, won't I?"
Surrendering, he relaxed against her shoulder. "Damn him, anyway. Hermione, I'm
not going to the Burrow for Christmas. I can't take it."
She hesitated. "I think you should."
"No. Hermione, it will be horrible."
"You might make up." She was doing her best, Harry thought, to sound
encouraging. "I don't think anyone else is angry."  
"But we'll all be miserable. Christmas should be happy." Staying here, Harry
thought, was what he had wanted anyway -- time unsupervised at the school.
She sighed. "I'll stay with you."
"No!" He reined in his annoyance. If she stayed, he didn't get anythingout of
this mess. "Sorry, but .... Look, I'd rather just be alone, okay? And you
should be with him."
"At the moment, I don't want to be with him! He's being an idiot. And you may
wantto be alone, but I don't think you should be."
"What?"
"Harry, really -- you've been sulking off on your own far too much. I thought
we'd agreed that we need to talk to each other."
They had agreed that -- but that had been when Harry had been a virgin, and the
personal issues he had been hiding had originated with Voldemort, not a
forbidden lover. "I'm not in any new danger, Hermione. Nothing strange is
happening to me magically. I just need to get away, sometimes."
"If we allow you to, you withdraw and don't ask for help when you need it. I'm
not leaving you here alone, Harry."
"I'm fine."
She smiled sadly. "But you always say that."
Harry didn't have any answer for that. He accompanied her to the library, and
slipped out an hour later, while she was searching the stacks. Alone, he
wandered through the corridors, with no goal in mind other than avoiding Ron.
When it was time to return to Gryffindor, he didn't turn back.n a pause to duck
through the portrait hole, he didn't stop until he was two floors down from the
entrance to the tower.

"Mr. Potter."
Professor Snape's voice was cold and vicious, and it sent an irrepressible
shiver down Harry's spine. He turned.
"Is there some reason you are not in Gryffindor, where you belong?" Severus
stalked closer. There was a time when the predatory triumph in his face would
have frightened and angered Harry. Now, it sent blood rushing down through his
body, rather than up. He leaned insolently back against the wall.
"Don't want to be."
"And that, of course, is farmore important than rules intended to insure your
safety." Snape paused. "Though perhaps I should worry more about the safety of
others from you."
Harry looked up and down the corridor. No one was in sight. Still, at Hogwarts,
you couldn't count on that. He wet his lips and stepped forward. "Why should I
care?"
Black eyes glittered with what would once have been fury as his professor
stepped forward and seized Harry by the front of his robes. Harry could not
hold back a faint moan as Severus twisted the fabric, pulling him so close that
his breath was hot on Harry's ear.
"Because you are going to spend the rest of your apparently freeevening in
detention," he hissed. Severus was shaking, as he could with rage, but Harry
suspected that only the thought of spying ghosts kept him from closing the
scant space between their bodies and presenting another source for the tension.
"Go directly to my classroom, Potter. I will meet you there as soon as I have
informed your head of house as to your whereabouts."
With that, he shoved Harry away. Harry did his best to look sullen, rather than
excited. "Yes, sir." He couldn't resist licking his lips. After one warning
snarl, Severus turned away in a swirl of robes and retreated down the corridor.

                                  **********
 
When Severus entered the classroom, the first thing he saw was a golden fire in
the grate. Harry was kneeling before it, still dressed in his school robes.
From the pile of neatly folded clothing sitting beside him, Severus was certain
that he was wearing onlyhis school robes. Quickly, he stepped in and closed the
door. He took a step towards Harry and stopped. Leaving the clothing out like
that was a risk, but for once, he found it difficult to begin objecting.
A flash of green eyes looking up, a moment of fire and darkness, and then Harry
was once again the picture of demure submission. Severus stepped forward,
seized a handful of hair, and pulled, bringing Harry up off his heels.
"Was it too much of a wait for you, Potter?"
"Yes.Pity we can't do it in the hallway."
Severus had to struggle not to push Harry to the floor immediately. He schooled
his voice to scorn. "Wouldn't you mind being seen? With me?" Smirking at the
thought came more naturally. "On your knees?"
"Don't think I would." Harry looked like not mindingwas only the beginning of
it. "Ifthey couldn't do anything to us."
"Perhaps I could offer your services in return for silence."
Rather than protesting, Harry let out a soft, lustful cry. Severus shifted
forward so that his feet were touching Harry's knees, and Harry pressed forward
for more contact. Carefully, Severus put his hands on Harry's chest, feeling
again, as he had their first encounter, the smoothness of a single layer of
fabric. He stretched his touch down as far as he could go while standing
straight, and then brought a hand up and under the collar to slide it down
again, this time over bare skin.
"Am I good enough, sir?"
Severus laughed silently to himself. That was a question that could be taken
many ways. "To loan out?" he said coolly. "Oh, quite. But I know so fewpeople
that I could trust to return you undamaged."
"NotLucius Malfoy," Harry said, but he rocked his hips side to side, rubbing
against Severus's legs. Severus pointed his wand down and charmed Harry's robes
open, exposing a stripe of skin, and sending his erection to bobbing slightly
against Severus's legs.
"His son, perhaps?" Severus sneered. "I don't think he's made it up to murder,
yet. What if Draco were to surprise us in a telling situation?"
"He'd think you were forcing me, you know." In contrast to the cheeky reply,
Harry clasped his hands behind his back, and began to rub his face on Severus's
groin. When he found the veiled ridge of Severus's erection, he concentrated on
that, mouthing it through the fabric.
"He'd soon learn better."
"Would you want him to?"
Rather than chiding Harry for lifting his mouth, Sever took advantage of the
space to unfasten his robes from the waist down.
"Perhaps not. He might be more willing to have you if he thought you were
unhappy."
"Dunno if I can fake that." Harry nuzzled at his hands, interfering with the
business of unfastening his flies.
"But he'd sneer at you so sincerely. And everything from me would have two
meanings, and be such a sweet secret."
"I'm a Gryffindor."
"You like your dark secrets, just the same. Don't think I don't know how much
you hide."
He had got everything out of the way, finally, and Harry tongued his cock,
rather than replying. For a moment, Severus enjoyed watching his escalating
ministrations, but a few seconds after Harry took him to the root, he pulled
away, cursing, and pushed him to the floor. It was only as he knelt down that
he noticed the fur rug that certainly did not belong there, but felt beautiful
beneath his knees as he straddled the boy's face.
"Go back to it."


                                  **********

Harry rolled onto his back, panting. He was vaguely aware of Snape levering
himself up to watch. For a moment, he let his eyes close. Lessons would be
ending for Christmas, soon, and then he could stay as long as he wished ...
Except, of course, if Hermione worried. His eyes flew open to find Severus
studying him.
"What?"
"That was an interesting series of expressions, Potter."
"I bet. Could we get Hermione assigned a time-consuming research project that I
can't possibly help her with?"
A low rumble of amusement met the question. "Not looking forward to the
scolding you'll get when you go back?"
"Oh, it's not that. She wants to stay for Christmas. Because I'm staying, and
she thinks she needs to make sure that I study. And she thinks I spend too much
time alone."
"How little she knows," Severus said smugly, but his smirk turned to a frown
while he was sitting up. He settled with his legs to one side, and Harry
watched him study the distant air as he lit a cigarette. "You are trying to
dissuade her?"
"Of course!"
"Continue with that, and I will see what I can devise to distract her if you
fail." His eyes glittered. "I am not interested in sharing your attention."
"Honestly, I'd like a break from it being shared."
"I will, however, also make you study."
"N.E.W.T.s are months away!"
"Your N.E.W.T.s do not concern me," Severus remarked dryly. "However, you have
immediate use for some intensive work in combat magic."
Harry gave up on being offered a smoke and reached out to snag the pack. "I'd
be okay with that."
"I expected that you would be." Beyond the flare of his ignition charm, Harry
watched the smirk reassert itself. "And we would still have plenty of time for
pleasure -- ifyou are otherwise at liberty."

All the way back to Gryffindor tower, Harry considered the matter. He had a
half-dozen schemes -- none of which he actually believed would work -
- competing for his attention by the time he reached the portrait of the Fat
Lady.
The moment he stepped through the opening, he knew that he wouldn't have time
for any of them.
At this hour, the common room would usually be empty, but for one or two
desperate procrastinators writing frantically. Instead, he saw a small cluster
of people by the fire, most of them standing around the couches, speaking in
the hushed, uneven manner that always boded ill. His mind immediately moved to
thoughts of attack. Hermione looked up and beckoned Harry over, and he started
grimly across the room. Halfway there, he saw that the group was centered
around Ron -- Ron, who was openly crying,as no boy their age ever would for
less than true disaster -- and he hurried the rest of the way, all anger
forgotten.
"What happened?"
Choking, Ron looked up. For just a moment, Harry thought he would lean forward
and hold on, as he had when Dean was killed. The second of vulnerability turned
suddenly to rage. "Go AWAY!" 
"Hermione?" Harry asked desperately. Not one of his family; please
not.Frighteningly, Hermione looked as alarmed as he felt.
"Bill," she choked out. "He'll probably be okay. They think he'll be okay."
"What happened to Bill?" His own voice was harsh, but he couldn't help it.
People didn't get this upset over less than a death.
Hermione stroked Ron's back as she looked past it at him. "He tried to kill
himself." Her voice was tight. "Ashwinder egg in dragon's blood -- nasty stuff.
He's in St. Mungo's while they try to recreate his throat and stomach."
"Hell!" Harry's stomach churned with emotion while he thought of what either
one of those substances could do to human flesh. In a flash of defensive fury,
he grabbed Ron's shoulder and pulled him around. "Why didn't you let me WRITE
HIM?"
"Harry!" Hermione gasped.
Even before the words were out, Harry realized that he had said the worse thing
possible. He could see in Ron's face that his friend felt more than enough
regret without him piling on more.
"Sorry," he said quickly. "God. Not that it would have done any good, this
late." He tried to touch Ron, but Ron flinched away, and Harry closed his eyes
and turned. "I'm going to bed."
No one tried to stop him, but Lavender and Seamus gave him distinctly dirty
looks as he passed.
He was still awake, much later, when Ron came up to the room and began to
undress.
"Ron? Look, I --"
"Don't say anything," Ron said fiercely. "Just don't."

Harry didn't sleep well, and he could tell that Ron didn't either, but Ron at
least pretended to be asleep when Harry gave up, long before breakfast time.
Quietly, Harry dressed, gathered some writing materials, and left the room. The
common room was silent, except for the soft pop of the fire lighting itself as
he entered. He sat down near it and began a letter.
Bill,
I'm sorry I didn't write earlier. Ron tore up my last I
tried to, but Ron found out and fought with me about it. He hasn't
 
He gave up on that, and started over.
Dear Bill,
First, I want you to know that I'm not upset at you about
the leak. Whatever Snape says, I think you made an
understandable mistake. Yes, it was a risk, but you took
what you thought were reasonable precautions, and it wasn't
entirely your fault that they weren't enough. I know
you could have been more careful, but I'm not sure that
winning would be worth it if everyone left was like Moody.
I'm sorry I didn't write earlier. I tried to, but Ron found
out and fought with me about it. He hasn't been able to
decide if he's angrier at me for daring to suspect you or
for forgiving not being angry at you, though I think
it's mostly the first one, now. He was actually crying
very upset, last night, but he wouldn't talk to me, which is
mostly my fault, because I was an arse. I want you to know
he cares about you, even if he hasn't been acting like it.
Please let people help you and get better quickly.
Best wishes,
Harry
That would do, he thought. He'd wasted too much time trying to get it perfect
over the last week. Setting that one aside to dry, he started on the second
letter.
Ron,
I'm sorry I was so horrible last night. It wasn't your
fault that I didn't write to him. I first tried to a
week ago, and I might not have sent yesterday's letter
right away, even if I'd finished it.
He was just signing his name when he heard steps on the staircase down from the
girls' dormitories. It was Hermione, still in pajamas and a dressing gown, who
appeared in the doorway. She came over to him, her expression uncertain.
Neither of them had yet said anything when she reached him and began reading
over his shoulder. He let her.
"Getting straight to the point?"
Harry shrugged, relief flooding him at the merely wry tone. "I reckon I'm lucky
if he reads past the first few words, so they better matter."
"Good point."
Harry made a face. "Did you have to agree with me?"
"Well, you're right." Nonetheless, Hermione flopped down on the couch next to
him. "I couldn't sleep."
"Don't think any of us did." Harry bit his lip for a moment. "Listen, Hermione.
Tomorrow...."
"I don't know what to do."
"You're going to the Burrow." Harry took a breath. "And I'm not, of course."
"Harry, I'm sure that --"
"It doesn't matter if they blame me or not! I can't help now. Seeing me ...
even the ones that don't blame me will feel worse. Go help ... please?"
"But you...." She waved her hands helplessly, in a most unHermionelike way.
Harry knew how she felt. He didn't know what to do either.
"I'll be okay. I'm really ... I'm almost okay, these days."
"You were out past midnight."
"Snape caught me out and decided he couldn't wait to give me detention."
"Oh, Harry!"
"It wasn't so bad. He's offered to give me lessons in combat spells over the
holiday. Well, offered in the 'I refuse to have a defender so pathetic,' sort
of way, but still. I was feeling better until I got back here." He shifted
uneasily, his thoughts returning to Bill. "Do they really think he'll be all
right? I can't imagine surviving for long enough to even Apparate....
Hermione nodded grimly. "Fortunately, Charlie caught him, and he knows charms
for dragon's blood burns, and it turns out they counter the ashwinder egg to
some extent. Still ... I don't think he'd have a chance in a Muggle hospital,
and it sounded as if Charlie had been a second later...."
She stopped, tears forming in her already red eyes. Harry reached out to her,
and at the first contact, she collapsed against him.
"Oh Harry, I don't know what to do! I'm no good at being comforting, and people
keep dying and getting hurt, and it's not any easier, and...."
"Shh. Go to the Burrow. Even if you just help with making sure everyone's fed,
that's something, right?"
"But Bill!"
"If you can go to St. Mungo's, then read to him or something. Don't let him
sulk. Roll your eyes if he gets dramatic, like you would with me."
She nodded against his chest, where a slight dampness was spreading through his
shirt. "Sorry. I ... I couldn't break down with Ron. He needed --"
"I know."

When they got back from breakfast, Ron had already left for St. Mungo's. The
note he left for Hermione said that Bill might be well enough for visitors,
soon. There was nothing for Harry. He wasn't as pleased as might have been to
scribble Sorted on the bottom of his Potions essay before turning it in.
After the last lesson of the day was over, crowds of excited children gathered
in the corridors, chattering about their holiday plans. Harry felt dreary in
comparison.
"Young, aren't they?" said a soft voice at his side, and he turned to smile at
Hermione.
"Most of them. Yeah."
"I ... I think you're right. About the Weasleys. I'm going to go tomorrow, if I
can. I'm just not sure how --"
"Miss Granger, Mr Potter!" Professor McGonagall hurried up to them. "The
headmaster wishes to speak to you."
A momentary glance shared the question, and then Harry nodded. "Fine."
They walked in silence to the gargoyle guardian. Harry couldn't help worrying
that Bill had taken a turn for the worse, and he suspected that Hermione had
similar thoughts. The spiral ride up the staircase was irritatingly indirect.
"Ah, there you are. Sherbet lemon?"
"Is Bill all right?" Harry demanded.
"Well, I'm not certain 'all right' is a fitting description -- yet-- but he is
improving steadily." Dumbledore made no second attempt to offer candy. Instead,
he motioned to the chairs by the fire and came around his desk to join them.
"Please, sit."
The headmaster settled wearily into one of the padded chairs. Reflected flames
glittered in his glasses. "Bill Weasley is, as I said, improving. However, his
condition is still serious. In discussing the matter, it became evident that
Mrs. Weasley and I had differing understandings of how the two of you were
planning to spend the holiday. She thought you were both visiting?"
"She is, sir," Harry volunteered, motioning at Hermione. "I'm not."
"If the invitation still stands," Hermione added hastily.
"I believe it does, Miss Granger. Harry? Did you think you were not welcome?"
"Ron and I have been fighting, sir. Even before this. It's not that I think
Mrs. Weasley wouldn't have me; it's that I think it would be too unpleasant for
everyone."
Dumbledore considered him thoughtfully. "It requires some effort, Harry, to
keep the people we love in our lives."
"I'm not giving up on them!" Harry hesitated. "I've written to Bill, which I
meant to do earlier, but I'd been having trouble deciding what to say. I should
write Mrs. Weasley too -- I'd thought Ron would tell her I wasn't coming. And
I've sent presents, of course. I think having Hermione there might actually
help,but it's too early for me."
This seemed to reassure the old wizard. He nodded solemnly. "Very well." With a
sigh, he shifted in his seat. "No one from the family has time to go to Kings
Cross, tomorrow --" A slight motion of his hand forestalled Hermione's
acceptance. "-- but I will be traveling to St. Mungo's myself, tomorrow
morning, and you may come with me and meet them there."
"Oh, thank you!" Hermione moved nervously. "May I see Bill? Can he have
visitors? Is he conscious?"
"He could be conscious -- however, they are mostly keeping him asleep, to keep
his throat as still as possible while it re-forms." Dumbledore got to his feet.
"And now, I must pack, as business will keep me in the city for several days. I
suggest you go do the same. And Harry? I will see you before Christmas; dotry
to stay out of any life-threatening peril until then."
Harry smiled shakily at him as he stood. "Postpone manticore hunt until
Christmas Day -- got it."
***** Plans *****
Harry didn't actually bother going down to the train the next day. Hermione and
Ron had already left, and his other housemates had other people to think about.
He waved Neville and Seamus out of the room, and Neville, at least, waved back.
He did watch, from one of the tower windows, for the puffs of steam departing
southward. Once that had happened, he adjusted his clothes -- the tattiest
cast-offs he had -- and headed out into the corridors, bringing the Marauders'
Map with him. The label marked "Severus Snape" was moving quickly through the
less traveled parts of the school, as Harry had expected. Currently, it was two
turns away from the Trophy Room. Harry judged that if he went down the back
stairway, he could be at the corner by the washrooms by the time Severus got
there.
In fact, he was a little early. He loitered for a moment, observing how disused
this section of the school was. There were no portraits, but the pillars every
few strides were carved with grotesque faces. He wondered if they could also
bear tales to the headmaster.
While Harry was staring into the stone eyes of a sneering tusked man, Professor
Snape swept around the corner. Without missing a step, he said, "Are you coming
or going, Potter? Make up your mind," and entered the bathroom. With a scowl
that was entirely for show, Harry followed.
The bathroom was even more decrepit than the corridor. Rust stains spread wide
in the sinks, and cobwebs stretched from one tap to the next. Severus pointed
his wand at the door and muttered a spell.
"Locking it?"
"Nothing so obvious. I've set the latch to break. It will take a minute for
anyone to get in." He looked hungrily at Harry as he spoke. "The headmaster is
away, and I have set the Bloody Baron on Peeves."
"Clog the drains, while you're at it. I don't want Moaning Myrtle in here."
Severus smirked. "Already done." With a quick lunge, he seized Harry and spun
him around, shoving him against a dripping sink. Harry took all the energy that
instinctively wanted to go into fighting and threw it into surrendering, making
his blood surge.
"Yes," he hissed, before catching himself. "Please, sir...."
"Foolish little boy," Severus whispered darkly, pressing hard against him and
rubbing blatantly. "Don't you know better than to wander by yourself in unused
regions of the school?"
Harry gripped the sides of the sink and pushed back hard. "But nothing ever
happens in the usual places. I'd miss out on all the excitement."
"Is this exciting,then, Potter?" As a dark wand flicked into the edge of
Harry's vision, thick vines curled around Harry's wrists. In a flash, they had
bound him to the pipes that went up the wall behind the sink. With a hard pull,
Severus undid Harry's belt, and the oversize trousers began to slip. "Being
caught in an abandoned room?"
"Yeah," Harry squirmed against him, using the friction to inch his trousers
down more. Severus leaned close, his breath harsh in Harry's ear.
"You know what I want, don't you, boy?"
"Pretty obvious."
"Answer properly, Potter!"
"Yes, Professor,I know what you want." With a last lift of one hip, he had it.
The trousers fell around his ankles, leaving him bare from there to the hem of
his moth-eaten jumper, but the garment was so large that he had room to spread
his legs. The ceramic of the sink was cold against the tip of his cock. In
contrast, the fine fabric of Snape's robes slid smoothly against his bare
buttocks.
"Say it, then, Potter," Severus demanded. "What do you believe I will do to
you?"
"Bugger me blind." With a cocky grin at the mirrorless wall, Harry added,
"sir."
Uneven teeth slid against his ear. "Five points to Gryffindor," Severus
whispered. Still fully dressed, he slid a lubed finger against Harry's crack,
and Harry rocked back, trying to take the tip in. Snape withdrew the contact in
fractions of an inch, teasing him with the touch and making him stretch to the
limits of the vines. "How entertainingly shamelessyou are, Potter. Imagine if
someone walked in right now, and saw you straining for more."
"Wouldn't care," Harry said defiantly. His imagination, however, remembered the
fantasy about Draco, and was rapidly filling in the Slytherin boy staring from
the door.
"No? You wouldn't stop, then?" Severus moved just the tip of his finger in.
"Fuck me, damn it! I don't care who's watching."
At that, his lover finally gave. He pushed the finger inside, and began deftly
fucking Harry with that, while he fumbled at his robes with his off hand. For a
minute, even that small intrusion was enough to give Harry the feeling of
fullness that he craved, but only for a minute. He twisted to look past his
shoulder, and snarled the incantation to undo buttons. Severus stumbled back,
pulling out of him with almost painful speed.
"What the hell do you want me to do?"Harry snarled. "Just tellme."
Severus's voice, by contrast, was steady -- almost light. "You managed four
buttons."
"Under rather adverse conditions."
"You misunderstand. That is quiteimpressive, wandless."
Harry snarled again, a wordless sound of frustration and rage, and then his
eyes narrowed. "There you go," he said coldly. "My fanswere right. I'm
specialand impressive,and you should appreciate me."
His professor's face took on a dangerous light as he stepped close again. One
hand moved to Harry's hip and caressed it. "Oh, I doappreciate you, Potter," he
said softly, the caress changing to a hard grip. "I appreciate that you're a
fucked-up little boy who can't get enough of my cock." With his wand to focus
the Unfastening charm, he had his clothes undone and trousers off in seconds.
He teased the promised member up against Harry's hole and made him strain back
again. The vines pulled hard at Harry's wrists. "Nothing to say, Potter?"
"You want me to agree with you?"
"In detail."
Harry whined. "Yeah," he said. "Can't get enough. Want it in my mouth, in my
arse -- want you touching me, want you staring at me when I take off my
clothes...."
Severus pressed, ever so slightly, into him. "Expand 'it.' You must know
several words."
"Want your cock in my arse," Harry said. "Please. Feels so good."
He pushed in further. "That's a good boy."
"Like that, don't you? Like that I'm officially under your authority --"
"And even more that are physically so -- and that you ask for that."
"Yeah. Love the way you tie me up and make me take it. Want you to buy me a
collar and make me sit at your feet while you're grading --"
With a harsh cry, Severus plunged into him. The burn was nothing under the
satisfaction at having successfully goaded him, and Harry started moving
immediately, bracing himself against the sink. Severus matched him, his ready
tongue spilling out curses stripped of malice, and praises of Harry as a
wanton, ungovernable brat. Soft laughter turned to desperate gulps of breath,
and then to cries of pleasure, and Harry collapsed forward, bumping his head on
the corroded pipes. Severus seized him around the chest and thrust harder until
he spasmed, froze, and finally, relaxed. Harry collapsed forward into the wall
as the vines uncoiled and faded away. The smell of their sex mingled oddly with
the disturbed damp.
"Brilliant."
"Do you need to return soon?"
"No." Harry sent a mischievous smile back over his shoulder. "No one else from
Gryffindor stayed." He was rewarded by seeing Severus shudder slightly, as in a
shadow of orgasm.
"Would no one notice, then, if I took you to London? Overnight, perhaps?"
Severus leaned close, his nails biting into Harry's shoulder. "Professor
Dumbledore expects to spend much of the next two weeks away."
Traveling sounded even more like freedom than unsupervised nights in the
school. Harry moaned and pressed as hard as he could back into Severus,
although it was too soon for either of them to have recovered. "What's in
London?"
"Restaurants," Severus purred. "Hotels. All that money we never get a chance to
spend. Perhaps a little blond rentboy to play the part of Draco."
"Oh." Harry let out several quick breaths, somewhere between panting and
laughing as he tried to absorb the idea. "Mm. I'm all for that."
"Muggle, of course."
"Would damn well have to be."
"Quite." Severus hesitated. "If you are willing," he said, with unusual care,
"and conditions allow, you might also do a little job. For the business, that
is."
"In London?" For that, Harry turned around. He needed to pull up his trousers
first. When he settled back, covered arse against the now-warm sink, Severus
looked amused.
"Yes, London. I overheard Macnair, last night, saying that the gargoyles in the
City had laid. He's supposed to destroy the egg, sometime next week, once the
adults start to range further away. I'd like you to steal it, first."
Harry shifted uneasily. They had never covered gargoyles in class. He thought
he had read that they protected buildings, that carved gargoyles attracted
them, and that they were harmless unless provoked. What they did when provoked,
he had no idea. "How dangerous is that?" he mused, only belatedly realizing
that he had voiced the question.
Severus shrugged. "That rather depends. If --"
Harry interrupted. "Have any fags?"
"Now?"
"If we're going to talk, I want a smoke."
Severus stretched his lips in a mocking smile. "Not something I carry about the
school. Too tempting."
"That's why you're so stroppy when you're out walking the corridors. No cigs,
no sex...." Severus responded with an amused snort, and Harry shook back sweaty
hair from his face. "All right. Gargoyles. Danger."
"As I had attemptedto say, if it is night, and I cast an Obscuration charm on
you and your broom, andthe adult gargoyles do not return until you have left
the nest, not at all."
"And if they do?"
"Obscuration charms do not work on gargoyles. You would need to out-fly it.
They have been known to kill."
With assumed nonchalance, Harry shrugged. "All right. Can't be much worse than
dragons. Anything else I should know?"
"Once you have the egg, and I have placed it in a proper containment, we would
need to Apparate or portkey away immediately. The Ministry may have alarm
charms set."
Harry chuckled at that. "Oh, so we're poaching from the government, are we?
Wait." He thought back to what Severus had said. "Macnair is supposed to
destroythis egg?"
"That is standard practice. The Ministry attempts to keep them out of
circulation."
"Won't people notice when you show up with one for sale?"
That hesitation again. "I was not planning on selling it."
"Then this really isn't business,is it?"
Severus began to pace. The hem of his robe, where it swirled about him, was
grey with cobwebs. "Not precisely. However, if there is gravel from the
gargoyles in the nest, which is likely, you could collect that, as well, and
that will bring a decent price."
"What do you want with the egg?"
"The egg -- specifically, the shell, is the primary ingredient in the
Shadowcloak philtre. This gives the drinker the ability -- but does not compel
him -- to hide completely in shadows, however faint." He stopped and turned his
head to look squarely at Harry. "In the absence of profits, I would split the
doses with you."
"I already have an invisibility cloak."
Severus dismissed that with a contemptuous flick of one wrist. "A cloak must be
put on and taken off. It can be stolen from you. It can catch on things. With
this potion, you can be walking normally with a companion, hang back a step,
and be gone. If captured, you still have it until dawn -- you can make your
prison appear empty, and slip out when a guard opens the door to find you."
Harry could see those advantages and others. It was a tempting offer. "It must
be rare."
"Very rare. A breeding pair of gargoyles may lay once every fifty years, and
the governments watch them jealously, choosing which eggs to guard and which to
destroy. It is a dangerous thing to fall into enemy hands."
"Thus the not selling."
"Yes. If Macnair were to falsify the destruction, and bring the egg to his
master...."
"How many doses can we get?"
Lips pursed in thought, Severus eyed him up and down. "They vary by weight.
Perhaps six for you and six for me."
"And the gravel?"
"Is used for certain potions that make stone easier to levitate and maneuver.
It is not terribly rare, but it is in high demand. An even split of profits,
again?"
Harry leaned back. "Add in a carton of cigarettes, and you have a deal."
Harry didn't think the gravel could be worth much. There was more avarice in
the potion master's eyes at his suggestion than there had been at the
discussion of profits. "But I enjoy you coming to me for your drugs."
"Too bad." Harry pushed off from the sink and stood upright. "I'll come to you
anyway, you know."
"For other vices."
"Yes."
Severus shrugged. "I suggest a compromise. A carton of cigarettes, yes, but I
hold it."
"I can take it from you by the pack, though? Because the point is to, you know,
havethem when you don't, or when I can't go find you."
"Agreed."
***** London *****
Harry thought the boy was his own age, but he couldn't keep from thinking
'boy.' He was even skinnier than Harry tended to be after summer at the
Dursleys' and seemed at once tough and delicate -- brittle, Harry thought.
Right now, he couldn't seem to decide what to do about Harry being between him
and the man who had hired him.
"Hi. I'm Harry." Harry gave the boy a little push down into the seat of the
hired car. "Don't worry about the Professor, just now. We have more elaborate
plans."
He thought he saw Severus's cheek twitch in a repressed smile, but the boy
looked, if anything, more uncertain. "Davey. You ... do some sort of
specialty?"
He seemed to be studying Harry's clothes, and Harry, in a rush of amusement,
suddenly understood. "Oh no! I'm not hired. He -- he's my chemistry teacher, at
school. I'm staying over the holiday, and we decided to go somewhere where we
could be, er, less discreet."
Severus was definitely smiling, now, if ever so slightly -- smirking,perhaps.
The boy frowned, working this through. Harry thought he must be a little bit
stoned. "You go to a public school, then?" He focused on Harry. "You don't talk
like it."
Harry was taken aback at this. Dudley didn't talk like it either, really. On
the other hand, Davey might not know any public school kids. "I'm not really
rich." Severus snorted, and Harry realized that this was patently false. "Or, I
am, but I wasn't raised that way. My parents died when I was a baby, and I've
gone to school on a trust fund --" close enough "--where they met, you know -
- and just came into the inheritance."
Davey shot a canny look at Severus, and Harry didn't need Legilimency to see
that he was thinking that the professor was bilking Harry of his money. He felt
momentarily protective, but reminded himself that Severus might not mind that
perception, Slytherin values being what they were. Still, he didn't like being
seen as that naive. He laid a hand on Davey's thigh and ran it over the
impractical half-sheer trousers. "This is a very interestinggarment."
"Prout!" Snape barked, and it took a few seconds for Harry to remember that was
his assumed last name. "Did I give you leave to touch?"
Harry tried to look sullen, but he was inwardly delighted. Playing already, are
we? "No, but -- isn't he my Christmas present, sir?"
The smirk turned full on him, now. "I did not say he was yours,Prout. Apologize
-- now."
"I'm sorry sir. I didn't mean to be presumptuous." With the turn of his head
hiding his expression from the prostitute, Harry dared a brief leer and lick of
his lips at the end of the contrite-sounding words.
"Not to me, you dolt! To him!" Severus's lips tightened into a thin smile.
"Nicely. Very nicely."
Hot with understanding, Harry slid down off the seat. "I'm sorry, Davey. Would
you like me to make it up to you? I can give a really good blow job."
Davey shot Severus a look, and at his avid stare, nodded. He seemed almost to
relax. This, Harry reflected, must be more familiar. He's probably thinking
that's what it's all about -- the older guy wants to watch two young things
going at it.Smiling to himself at his knowledge of more complicated things to
come, he bent forward to undo the snap on the sheer trousers with his teeth.
Underneath, it was held closed with velcro, which pulled open with a noise that
was vulgarly loud, even over the car engine. The boy wasn't hard, but Harry had
scarcely expected it, between the cold and the circumstances. He put his mouth
a hair's breadth above the limp cock and breathed heat out onto it. Davey
reached for his hair and began to swell slightly. Harry used his lips, just
from the side, to encourage more, and Davey made a surprised sound.
"Don't you want --? I mean, I have condoms. Flavored. Not bad, really."
With what he knew about wizards and Muggle diseases, Harry hadn't worried about
it, but Davey sounded a little disturbed. Harry wondered if he was worried
about getting infected, or knew he already was, and was actually bothering to
worry about Harry.
Severus saved him by reaching across to turn Davey's chin so that he could look
into his eyes. Harry saw a small motion under his coat as he used his wand. "It
is not necessary," Severus said softly, and Harry knew he was reinforcing that.
"Not this time."

Before Harry could complete his task, they pulled up in front of the hotel.
Harry gave Davey the long coat that they had brought and took him up to the
room, leaving Severus to pay -- and presumably Obliviate -- the driver. Davey
clutched the coat around himself and kept his head down as they crossed the
lobby, leaving Harry to keep up a normal sounding chatter for both of them. He
was silent in the elevator. It wasn't until they had got entered the top floor
suite and Harry had closed the door behind them, that he spoke.
"This is swank."
He sounded frightened. Harry took his arm and led him to the couch. "Yeah," he
agreed lightly, "swank. But it's work, right? Better than your usual places, I
bet. And warmer." He grinned. "You can show off that outrageous outfit of yours
and still be comfortable." When Davey compliantly began to pull off the coat,
Harry caught at his arm. "Leave it on until you warm up. I'm going to explain
the scenario to you while the professor sorts the driver."
"I'm warm enough," Davey insisted, squirming out of the coat. He looked tawdry
in the sparkling halogen light of the suite. The revealing clothing was
shoddily made, and his make-up intended for near darkness. A purple bruise
marred the lines of his right arm, which had no perceptible muscle.
"Don't believe you," Harry said cheerfully, trying to push down a surge of
protective feeling. He settled for pulling Davey against his side and dragging
the heavy coat over them. "Relax, Davey. We have plenty of time."
Using the remote control on the end table, he dimmed the lights until the boy's
heavy eyeliner was edging back into sexy.
"So," he said, "There's this boy at school who hates me. He's very arrogant,
and very rich, and he looks a bit like you -- or like you'll look once we clean
you up." Quite suddenly, the slow rise and fall of the boy's chest under his
hand became nearly imperceptible. Harry stopped, confused.
"If you're going to hurt me, that's extra," the boy said quickly, his voice
flat. "You can afford it."
"Oh!" Harry squeezed Davey's stiff torso slightly. "God, no. Not that at
all.No, you're going to catch us -- your favorite professor and your least-
favorite fellow pupil -- together, and threaten blackmail, and he'll give me to
you as a bribe. You can be as nasty as you want, as long as you don't
physically hurt me -- no spanking or whipping or anything, okay?"
The boy's body relaxed slightly. "I know how not to leave bruises," he offered.
"That doesn't matter. I don't enjoyit."
"Oh." Davey twisted around slightly. It was the most initiative he'd shown
since they picked him up, and Harry's reservations about his ability to behave
like Draco grew. "You'll like the rest of it?"
"Quite a lot, if you can do it decently. I know you're not an actor, so just
try your best, all right?"
"Yeah, well, you're the boss, right? Or the professor is."
"Both of us, really. We're a team. Look to him for your lead, though." It was
getting warm under the coat. Harry pushed it off of them and stood. "Come on.
Let's go to the bathroom and get all that crap off your face." He cocked his
head. "Or perhaps just most. And the professor wanted this in a sort of fantasy
motif, so there'll be costumes." He grinned at Davey's blink. "I told you we
had elaborate plans!"
And,he thought, as he led the boy into the palatial dressing room outside the
loo, we need to clear whatever the hell you're on out of your system, and
definitely give you that aphrodisiac that Severus brought along. Yeah, it's
more sex, but you're going to enjoy this.

                                  **********

When Severus entered the room, both boys were missing, the heavy coat was
crumpled up on the sofa, and the bathroom door was closed. He hung it up beside
his own and fixed himself a drink at the bar. When they finally emerged, the
prostitute looking stripped and pale, he tapped the ash off his cigarette and
put down the inane Muggle periodical that he had been attempting to read.
"Boy -- that room." He pointed to across the lounge area to another room.
"Close the door, put on the clothes you find on the bed, and then come back
out. Prout, I want to speak to you."
Harry hurried over as if he always came when called, but as soon as their
rental had left the room, threw himself into the closest chair and snagged a
cigarette.
"Your impressions?"
"Have any way to clear out his system? He's bloody wasted. I also don't think
he has any real interest in sex, so you should give him that concoction of
yours."
"That all seemed likely."
Harry shrugged and sucked on the cigarette so that the smoldering line of
orange moved visibly down the paper. From the slightly unhappy tension in his
face, Severus gathered that he hadn't considered what a hired boy might be
like. He was certain of it, when Harry suddenly blurted out:
"I wish I could help him, somehow."
Severus looked away, at the darkness outside the sparkling window.
"You can't. We can make tonight pleasant. I can cure some of what is wrong with
his body, and we can give him money. In the long run, however, it will make no
difference."
"I couldthough."
"Perhaps." Severus let his tone show how much he doubted it. "But it would
require a lot of time and effort, for one person and little chance of a return,
and you have more significant battles, more relevant to your life."
That was clearly a bitter message to take, but Harry managed it, setting his
shoulders back. With a stab of regret, Severus revised his opinion of his
maturity up a notch.
"All right. But he leaves here fed, and rested, and in as good health as you
can manage, and he has a brilliant time, tonight."
"Agreed." Not so much for his sake,Severus thought,as to not mar your pleasure
with guilt.
Harry, indeed, seemed quite cheered. When their rentboy emerged, looking
perplexed and uncomfortable in his Slytherin uniform, Harry laughed and stubbed
out his cigarette.
"Come here, Davey," he called.
Severus saw the boy look to him, and nodded slightly. He rose to his feet as
the prostitute drew near. "Sit down," he ordered. When the boy was seated, and
Harry had firmly pushed him from the edge of the sofa to the back of it,
Severus walked around behind him.
"No. Don't look at me. Look at Prout."
He slipped his wand from his sleeve and cast a cleansing charm on the boy's
blood. He was not surprised to see him suddenly bend over, in pain, but Harry
was. He wrapped his arms around the shaking boy and looked angrily at Severus.
Severus smirked.
"Not accustomed to chemical normality, are you, little fool?" A second charm
calmed suddenly over-stimulated nerves, and with a single loud sob, the boy
relaxed. Harry was stroking his hair and murmuring to him. Severus tucked his
wand away and walked back to the bar. When he returned with the potion, dumped
into a shot glass to present a more normal appearance, the prostitute was
sitting up, still pale, but alert. Admittedly, there was nothing customarily
served in a shot glass that was red and fizzy, but it was still bound to look
less odd than a glass vial, to a Muggle. "Drink this. It will help."
"But --" The boy bit back his protest, and nodding, took the glass and knocked
it back. Within seconds, his cheeks were turning pink. From the way he shifted,
Severus surmised that he was finding Harry's continued petting more than a
little arousing. The shaky breath he let out caught Harry's attention.
"You should give that to me, sometime," he said approvingly.
"Are you mad?" Severus snorted at the very thought. "You'd kill me. You run
quite hot enough, without."
"I suppose." Unselfconsciously, Harry stood. "Well -- time to get started?"
"Indeed." Severus caught Davey rocking his hips and smiled. "Has Prout
explained matters to you, boy?"
"I guess. I'm supposed to catch you, and threaten to report you?"
"With craft and malice -- yes. Your name is Reynard -- Reynard Draper. Take
from that what you will." From the boy's confused look, Severus doubted he had
understood the reference. He pointed at a closed door. "We have a bit of a set
in there." In fact, it was as complete a mock-up of his classroom as two hours
of transfiguration could create. "Give us five minutes to get changed and
started, and then you may come in. Your father, incidentally -- and you call
him 'Father,' quite formally and loudly -- is terribly influential with the
board of governors, as you never hesitate to remind me."

It was odd to watch Harry getting dressed beforesex. Severus made a mental note
to require the experience again, sometime. Harry stripped off his jumper and t-
shirt, replaced them with a white oxford shirt and Gryffindor tie, and then put
his school robes on top. Severus merely removed the glamor from his own
clothing. Harry was looking pensive, which did not bode well; Severus waited
only until the last eye was hooked before starting in on him.
"Late again, Prout?" he spat, closing the distance between them in two strides.
"I suppose you believe your amusements are more important than my time?"
"I -- I'm sorry sir." Harry's voice sounded a bit strangled, as if he were
trying not to laugh. "Neville just takes foreverto come...."
At that, Severus choked on unexpected laughter and Harry dissolved into fits of
sniggering.
"Er, sorry. Shall we try that again?" he managed finally.
"Brat! Yes, definitely. Or skip it and do something better with your mouth."
Deftly and quickly, he opened the lower fastenings on his robes, while Harry
slipped to the floor. By the time the door opened, he was braced back against
the long student bench, struggling to stay with Harry's rhythm rather than just
bucking up into his throat. Davey stood in the entrance, staring. Severus
thought that his shock might actually be for the appearance of the room, but
the effect was acceptable.
"Professor!" he managed finally.
"Hell!" Severus pretended to have just noticed him. "Inside, Draper -- and shut
that door!"
The boy did. Visually, he didn't make a bad Draco, Severus thought -- the same
pallor and pointed features -- but he didn't know how to stand as if he owned
the world. Draco would have blustered or threatened, or sauntered in with
deliberate slowness, but Davey just stepped inside. "And,professor?"
"And what? I'm just showing Prout his place in the world." Snape's hand twisted
in Harry's hair, pulling slightly to start him moving again.
"I've always thought that might be it." The boy was actually trying for an
upper-class accent, now, though it varied from word to word. "He certainly
doesn't belong in your lessons." With that, he swaggered forward, quite clearly
entranced by what Harry was doing. Severus reminded himself that he had given
the boy a potent aphrodisiac. Indeed, he was impressed when the boy managed to
tear his attention away enough to look him in the eye.
"You could get fired for this, you know. Go to prison if the school doesn't
cover it up. If I tell Father...." He lowered a hand as he spoke, stroking up
the back of Harry's neck, pushing his hair backwards. Harry rose into it.
"And what would you get out of that?" Severus argued. "No one's going to let
you get away with the things I do."
"Perhaps. But I think you can offer better."
"Would you like a turn with him?" Severus presented the idea with evil grace.
It was easy, now, to imagine this was young Malfoy in front of him, stroking
Harry and growing pink with lust. "He's surprisingly ... biddable."
"And then I won't talk."
"Precisely."
"You think I want a blow job that badly?"
From the way the boy was shaking, he clearly did. Severus smiled slightly.
"From Prout, you might. But I like his mouth right where it is. I thought
perhaps you might bugger him. No need to wait,that way."
A small, spontaneous noise came from the boy. The potion was obviously doing
its job. "I don't like waiting," he managed.
"Strip his clothes off, then -- we might as well get a good view." Severus
pulled a vial from his pocket, belated realizing that he hadn't put it in some
more Muggle vessel, and handed it to the boy. "By the time you've put some of
this up his hole, you can probably push right in. He's alwaysready."
Harry squirmed and took him briefly to the root, at that, and Severus pulled
his hair in response. After a moment, it risked crossing into toogood, and he
tugged back. "Let up, Prout, if you can possibly restrain yourself. I don't
want to come until you've had a good taste of taking it at both ends."
Harry lifted his head, moaning. "Fuck, sir, want it...." The boy had given up
on unfastening the school robes and just shoved them over Harry's head,
muffling his voice for a moment.
"I can tell you do," he said nastily. "Gagging for his prick, aren't you?" He
yanked the trousers down, and knelt to slide a knee between Harry's legs,
rubbing it up and down his erection. "Hard just from having him in your mouth.
You'll bloody explode when I do your arse."
"Can't helpit," Harry protested. "Need more."
"I don't think this trade is really enough," the boy declared. "I think I want
him anytime."
"Sir?" Harry asked pleadingly.
Severus forced himself to scowl. "You just caught us once, Reynard."
"But you'd be in gaol for years," the boy argued, sliding two lubed fingers
into Harry and holding them there. His other hand slid around to encircle
Harry's cock, and for a moment, his eyes closed."Anytime, professor. If I go up
to him in the hallway and push down, I want to be coming in his mouth five
minutes later."
"Fuck," Severus swore, over Harry's voiceless whine. "Yes."
The boy laughed. "Oh, you like that, don't you? You'll get off on just thinking
about it, so don't complain." Contrary to Severus's orders, he stretched Harry
more. "And you'll like it too, won't you, Prout? Probably be trailing me around
just hoping I will." With that, he positioned himself and pushed in, and Harry
cried out. Quickly, before any real names could emerge, Severus filled his
mouth. Harry came immediately, and the whore soon after. Severus came hard and
slow, with his brain boiling with confused images of Draco, Lucius, and James.

He didn't, he realized, when blood and breath were moving at a more normal
rate, expect Harry to run off and seduce Draco -- or even to want to -- and he
didn't think he had raised any inappropriate feelings towards the younger
Malfoy in himself. After another round, using rather less play-acting, he felt
pleasantly sated. They pulled the boy with them into bed, and Severus was
amused, rather than jealous, to see Harry asleep with an arm slung over the
prostitute, as if he were a teddy bear.
In the morning, after he'd had an excessive amount of food sent up to the room
and they had consumed most of it, Severus talked to the boy.
"The surety I gave the man for you is fake -- it means nothing to me. I will
return you, if you wish, or leave you any other place in greater London.
Choose."
The boy looked overwhelmed, and Harry concerned. "You can't want to go back,
Davey. You have bruises."
Davey shrugged, tugging on the sleeve of his collared shirt. He had left off
the robes and tie, but was otherwise dressed as Reynard Draper. "It's not like
I have any other place to go."
"Is that your decision?"
"I suppose."
He sounded miserable, and Severus was hardly surprised that Harry intercepted
him when he went into the bedroom for his coat.
"Greenwich."
"What?"
"Damage his memory and drop him in Greenwich. It's a chance, anyway."
"Why on earth do you think that will helphim, Potter?"
"It's a nice town. There's a university. If he shows up with no memory, chances
are they'll think he's a new student, right? He should be treated well while
they try to find his family."
"Do you think they will?" Severus asked nastily.
"Of course not. Well, I hope not. Chances are they won't. And someone might
take him in, in the meantime. He's rather sweet, really, isn't he?"
It was a ridiculous plan, but Severus knew he'd go through with it anyway. A
statistically improbable number of Harry's harebrained schemes worked. Besides,
cooperating pushed back the uncomfortable thought that he would, himself, have
given anything to start seventeen anew.
***** A Working Holiday *****
Harry started out the day feeling subdued, but Severus brought him to a
patisserie on Brompton Road, and after a pot of tea and an assortment of cakes,
the day seemed much brighter.
"What's on for today?"
"Dinner, primarily. In the meantime, I thought we might shop down the road.
That is what your sort does when they come into money, isn't it? Buy absurd
things that they don't need at Harrod's?"
Harry grinned. "Absolutely. It's probably a law, like taxes." He sent Severus a
severe look. "No clothes, though."
"Oh, I don't think they'll allow you in without them."
Harry laughed. "I mean I won't buy clothes."
"You plan to steal them? Doesn't that negate the purpose of bleeding off excess
money?"
It was the deadpan delivery -- just ever so slightly puzzled -- that made it so
hilarious, Harry thought, as he tried not to be too loud. "I don't want more
clothes."
"Not even ones that I proclaim to be sexy?"
"'M not a doll." He didn't have to fake sullen for that, but Severus just
rolled his eyes.
"Clearly not, as I have neverplayed with dolls. It remains that your clothing
is all hideous."
"No."
"One suit."
Harry let out an incredulous puff of air. "And what would I do with a suit?"
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Go out for dinner?"

In the store, Severus was taken for Harry's father, an impression he accepted
with equanimity until the first time Harry called him Dad, at which point he
turned an interested shade of puce, but responded evenly. Harry found the
experiment entertaining enough to repeat a few times, but he gave it up when
Severus started to leer in response. That was just disturbing.
Harry tried on two suits, but managed to talk Severus into accepting dress
trousers and a blazer instead. He thought he might as well get something he
could possibly use a second time. For what was honestly his first ever non-
school tie, he picked a rather loud geometric number. After the clothing ordeal
was over, they went upstairs and looked at more interesting things, but mostly
didn't buy them, because it seemed foolish to buy furniture when they didn't
live in a house, or a croquet set when they had no garden. Harry's heart soared
while he casually patted a stuffed lion, but he never would have admitted it.
They did buy a Mah Jong set, although neither of them had ever heard of the
game, because it was too beautiful to resist. Harry was enchanted by the click
of the smooth tiles, and Severus by the mysterious foreign symbols.
On the ground floor, they found themselves looking at food, and Harry bought
two large boxes of expensive chocolates, and, after Severus bought a bottle of
wine that cost nearly a hundred pounds, some marzipan. After that, they
continued on their way, not too laden, but stopping in other stores for more
wine, cigars, and once, bizarre pens. After dropping off that set of purchases
at the hotel, they went into Soho, where Harry bought a pair of boots that
rivaled his Quidditch gear for sheer attitude. Severus was not mistaken for
Harry's father at thatstore, and people watched with attitudes ranging from
horror to amusement as he critiqued Harry's choices of things to try.
A young sales clerk, his pierced lip at odds with his almost maternal concern,
caught him in the dressing room. "You all right with him?" he whispered,
pointing towards the storefront with the spikes of his blue hair.
"What?" While the word was leaving his mouth, Harry caught the gist of the
query. "Um, yeah. Fine."
"If you need help -- a place to stay, or anything -- I know a reasonable
shelter. They won't mind you're gay, or anything."
Harry covered his mouth to block a laugh. "Um, no, really. He's not supporting
me. I have a place to live." He sobered at the thought that he might not be so
lucky. "Not with family, but a good place." He nodded at the door. "And I have
fun with him."
With a wink, the clerk relaxed. "Brilliant, then. I think you should try the
orange ones with the starburst brass toecaps -- he should nearly explode."

The restaurant looked much like Harry's idea of a gentleman's club: dark wood
paneling, chairs and benches upholstered in worn red velvet, and stuffed birds
and stag's heads everywhere. He found the latter disturbing. When Severus
caught the motion of his eyes, he smirked.
"Do the trophies disturb you?
"Itismy patronus."
"Ah." Severus, Harry decided, really didn't know the significance of that. He
didn't look sufficiently torn. "I'd forgotten. I'd expect a lion, or something
with wings."
Deciding that he had been complimented, Harry smiled. "Well, stags are
protective, you know."
"Hm. Well, if you don't want venison, I'm afraid you've eliminated half the
menu. Though if you're willing to eat roe deer, that opens it up a bit."
Water was poured into crystal glasses and Severus ordered a carafe of wine. The
waiter spent some time examining Harry's patently false student identification,
but the Confundus charm held, and he eventually nodded. When it came, Severus
raised his glass against Harry's.
"To subterfuge."
Harry smiled broadly. "Subterfuge, yes. And all the fun that can come from it."
"Ah -- and to money."
Harry rolled his eyes. Money was far more Snape's thing than his. "If you
insist."
They drank.
"So. I have an idea."
"Hm. Is it depraved?"
"Of course." Severus looked sidelong at him. "But technicallynot dishonest."
"Go on, then."
"It is public knowledge -- among our own -- that we have learned to cooperate.
I am planning to inform Dumbledore that I am willing to tutor you intensively
in combat skills until the start of term."
"And will you?"
A thin, hard smile was his first response. "Yes. And you should not expect
allowances for your excellent abilities in other arenas."
Harry considered that. He didneed to become a better combatant, if he were to
even get a chance at Voldemort. "All right. Where does the depravity come in?"
"Combat exercises can be very ... exciting. I expect we will need a break, now
and then."
"But if we're behind a locked door...."
"He is likely to assume that any protections placed upon our space are just to
keep innocent passers by from harm."
Harry grinned. "Excellent."

After dinner, they returned to the hotel, had sleepy, luxurious sex, and fell
asleep. When Harry awoke, it was still pitch dark and a sense of alarm had
propelled him into peak efficiency. In response to a dim glow of wandlight, he
grabbed at the arm beneath it and slammed it back, throwing his weight behind
it. He found himself on top of Severus, who sounded exasperated when he sighed.
"Impressive, Potter," he said, not at all as if it was.
"Something woke me."
"That would be me."
"Oh." Harry blinked. Now that there apparently wasn't a crisis, sleepiness was
catching up with him. "Just want a fuck, then?"
"No." Even flat on his back, in near darkness Severus could project contempt.
"Now that you have slept off the meal and the wine, I wanta gargoyle egg."
"Meaning I fetch it," Harry grumbled, belatedly climbing off of him. "Is there
some reason not to turn on the light?"
"Yes." Severus sat up. He handed Harry a small vial carved of smooth stone.
"Drink this."
It was only as the potion, greasy and pine-flavored, was sliding down his
throat, that Harry considered the trust he had developed in Severus. He hadn't
even asked.
Before he could take that line of inquiry further, the world came into view. He
could see the room: the bags that Severus had insisted that they pack before
dinner, his new clothes strewn on the floor, the crystal-handled stamp that
Severus had used as a butt-plug resting on the bedside table, the empty glasses
on the bar, and the sedate seascape above the bureau. Through the window, he
could see the distant tops of buildings, and an owl soaring past.
"Brilliant," he breathed.
"It works best after several hours in darkness or near-darkness," Severus
explained. "I will blindfold you for the walk to the roof."
Being led, sightless, up the emergency stairs was frightening, but it was worth
it for the sight of the city, clear as day, but tinted blue with shadow and
bedecked with colored lights, which greeted him from the roof. Harry straddled
his broom and accepted the disturbing feeling of the Obscuration charm, and
Severus moved ahead of him, in quick, short Apparations, rooftop to rooftop
until he could point out the nest.
"If they don't spot you," Severus said, "come back here. If they do, you'll
want to go someplace they can't fly into. That bit on the top of St. Paul's has
narrow enough spaces between the pillars; fly there and I'll Apparate to meet
you."
They waited, the watch made bearable by warming charms, until first one, then
the other, of the two gargoyles lifted off from the peaked stone.
"They'll be back soon," Severus said. "Move."
With a nod, Harry kicked off into the night.
He was at the nest in seconds. He put the egg, a smooth stone ovoid, as heavy
as the granite that it resembled, in his pocket, and began to fill a bag with
gravel. Every few seconds, he scanned the sky for the sight of the creatures
returning. His bag was nearly full when he saw it -- a large shape become
quickly larger. By the time he had pulled the bag closed, he could see the
lines of outstretched arms. He left the roof in a dive.
The spire of St. Paul's might be safe itself, but it was a long flight with no
cover, and towards the returning gargoyle. He cut down, instead, staying close
to the buildings. He could dive fast, but when the gargoyle screamed, with a
sound like screeching brakes, and began to descend, he knew he hadn't a chance
in straight race. Instead, he cut through a narrow arch, a space too narrow for
the great creature's wings, and it had to break off the dive and recover
altitude in a long sweeping curve. Harry shot up to the pillars supporting the
dome and went through the first arch. He had hoped to go all the way around,
but some of the supports turned out to be solid, trapping him in a short arc of
the total circumference. He hovered in the middle archway, ready to dart in
either direction, while the gargoyle swooped back and forth, letting out blood-
curdling screeches, before finally landing outside. Clinging to the stone edge
with its hind feet, it reached in a long arm. It could not quite grab Harry,
but with its wings folded, it would clearly fit through the gap.
Harry waited, drifting just slightly away from the clutching talons. With a
grating growl, the gargoyle folded its wings and hoisted itself up in a heavy
swinging motion that was much slower and less graceful than its flight. As soon
as it was under the roof, it lunged, but Harry was already gone, shooting out
the other side of the archway and up the dome.
"Here!" He shot behind the close pillars and handed the egg to Severus, who put
it in an already open casket. The gargoyle had made it back out from the roof
below and was rising, fortunately much more laboriously than it descended, with
powerful flaps of its huge wings. Severus closed the casket, latched it, and
touched it with his wand. Harry hoped that he didn't need to perform any
elaborate spells.
With a crash, the gargoyle landed on the walkway, and lumbered up to reach for
them. This time, Harry could clearly see the long talons of each finger, could
hear them clack as they came together.
"Harry! Now!"
Severus seized him at the shoulder, and it was the familiar squeeze of
Apparation, not stone talons, that took his breath. A moment later, he was
lying on the hotel bed, laughing helplessly.

                                  **********

Back at Hogwarts, Severus followed through on his promise to make Harry study.
Harry, for once, was a willing pupil; they worked on hexes to incapacitate, and
ones to destroy, and ways to get past shields, and ways to make your own
shields more effective. Severus had never seen him so focused on learning, and
found his intensity in lessons almost alarming. After they completed a session,
Severus would usually demand sexual favors, nominally in payment for the
lesson, or in exchange for releasing Harry from a hex, but more importantly to
ground both of them. He found himself wishing that he could slow down the turn
of the year; Christmas passed, and June seemed far too soon to give up this
sport. He refused to think of it in any other terms.
As the end of the holiday approached, he found himself searching for a fitting
final lesson. It was while brewing the Shadowcloak philtre that the answer
finally came to him. When the potion was filtered and decanted to age, he went
searching for Harry. He found him in the library, working on a research essay
with uninspired diligence.
"Put that away. We're going to practice."
"Here?" Harry winced, obviously realizing the stupidity of the thought. Severus
folded his arms over his chest and fixed him with a scornful stare.
"If you think I have so little regard for the danger posed by Madam Pince as to
duelin the library, you are an idiot. Of course not here!"
"But we usually meet later --" Harry was already stuffing books into his bag.
"True, but it is warm outside now, and that won't last long."
"We're going outside?"
Severus strode out into the corridor, Harry at his heels. "I can't very well
have you practice on a broom indoors, can I?"
"Excellent!" Harry exclaimed.

Snape wasn't a balanced flyer himself, but he was not surprised that Harry,
whose talent had been apparent his first time on a broom, had no trouble
throwing hexes from one. He was also not surprised that Harry's defense against
hexes from below was poor; most people found that trickier to adapt to. Harry
insisted on trying moves again and again, and Severus finally called him down
when he began to fear the boy would fall from sheer exhaustion. When Harry
landed, he was sweating, despite the growing winter chill, and he tumbled
gratefully and immediately off his broom. Severus regarded him critically.
"You should return to the school and warm up quickly, Mr. Potter."
"Have any suggestions?" Harry asked cheekily.
"A bath is standard, I believe."
Harry frowned. "All right." A trace of the mischief returned as they began the
walk back to the castle. "I wonder if I can guess the password on the Prefects'
Bathroom."
"You could get into quite a bit of trouble, that way."
Harry shrugged. "Who'd catch me? None of the prefects return until tomorrow."
Under the cover of his cloak, Severus cast a quick Privacy charm.
"There is a bath in the dungeons," he said quietly.
"Oh?
"Turn right at the bottom of the main stairs, and look for a painting of a
lightning storm splitting a tree. The password is 'chimera.'"
Just as he finished speaking, the sky began to spit hard drops of sleet. They
increased their pace. A small brown owl dropped out of the biting sky and
swooped in front of him to perch on the front of Harry's Firebolt. It had a
roll of parchment tied to one foot, and once he had taken that, it sidestepped
down the broom handle until it was right by Harry's hand, partially sheltered
by his body.
"Fan mail?" Severus asked bitingly.
Harry stuffed the scroll into his bag without looking at it. "Let's get
inside!"

                                  **********

Inside the doors, by silent agreement, they parted. Snape headed down the
corridor with a purposeful stride, and Harry, after a quick check for witnesses
showed no one, went down the main staircase to the dungeons.
He found the painting easily enough. The bath was not as decadent as the
Prefects' bath, but it was roomy enough for three or four adults, and had a
good dozen taps. Harry started fresh hot water pouring into it, and climbed in
as soon as he had his clothes off. His robes were soaked through and his skin
frozen, and the water felt scalding on his legs and feet, even though he had
tested it on his wrist. He was just starting to feel better, and had begun to
add some spicy-scented bubbles, when the door opened. Severus entered, leered
at him, and hit him with a Stinging hex.
"Aaa!" Harry stumbled from the water, slipping on the floor as he lunged for
his robes and his wand to counteract the spell. "What the hell was thatfor, you
bastard?"
"For not having your wand to hand, Potter. The one you use to defendyourself,
that is."
"But --" Harry bit off his protest. Obviously, if an enemy had entered, he
would have been in serious trouble. "Point taken," he admitted. He was starting
to shake from renewed chill. Severus looked up from firing off a spell at the
second sink and shooed him back at the bath.
"Get back in the water before you freeze, Potter. I have no interest in
carrying you up to Pomfrey to be treated for hypothermia."
"Come into the water and rub my arms, then."
"Arms?"
"Whatever."
Severus in the bath was strange, but good. Harry wasn't sure of penetration
under water, and he certainly didn't want his mouth on anything covered in a
film of scented soap, but everything was slippery, and when Severus pulled him
to sit between his legs and began leisurely stroking his cock, it was dreamily
good.
When his arousal heightened, countering the stupor of warm water, he turned and
straddled his lover's legs and wrapped his hands around both their erections
and took over the pulling. Severus concentrated on the kiss. His orgasm was as
slow and floaty as all the rest of it, and he collapsed, boneless, against
Severus, who leaned back, sliding more of them under the water.
"You know," Severus whispered, "that may be the mildest sex we've ever had."
"Yeah." Harry chuckled. "Very clean."
With a snort, Severus bumped him upward at the hips, causing waves that came
nearly to Harry's mouth. "Prat. Come to my room and we'll get dirty. Very
dirty."

They had just entered the bedroom, and Harry was putting down his school bag,
when Severus looked down at the parchment poking out of it.
"What was that letter?"
"Oh! I never looked." Settling himself on the edge of the bed, Harry pulled the
letter out. Severus crawled up behind him to read over his shoulder.
Dear Harry,
Thank you for writing. I am very grateful, both for your
letter and your forgiveness.
Ron is speaking to me now, and I expect he will to you,
when he returns, if you don't make it difficult. I think
he was most angry at you for being right. It is
difficult to surrender the cherished illusion that you
can trust your family -- note how I was taken in by Percy.
I may not be Moody, but my profession requires substantial
paranoia, yet still, I was taken in. I wanted to
believe that I could trust my brother, and I have paid for
that -- not enough, I think, but I have realized that
killing myself would really just add to the problem. I
made everyone miserable a second time, rather than
actually trying to fix anything. It's terribly easy to say
that there's nothing to be done and just give up. I can't
raise the dead, after all. But it remains that there are
other things to be done.
At any rate, I hope all is well with you. Please feel
free to call on me at any time.
Your obedient servant, (Really! And don't make faces.)
Bill Weasley
 
"How charming," Severus said dryly, not at all as if he were charmed.
"Well, I'mglad he wrote," Harry retorted. He felt a bit guilty when he realized
that it had been days since he had last wondered how Bill was doing.
Thoughtfully, he rolled up the letter and squeezed it into his bag. "So that's
one problem settled. What are wegoing to do?"
"About what?"
Harry waved a hand, indicating the familiar mess of the bed and the surfaces
within reach of it. "Term."
"Tired of detentions, are you?"
Harry shrugged. "Hermione scolds me. And Professor McGonagall may start to
wonder if I could actually be that bad, even by your standards."
"Perhaps." Severus reached into the drawer of the bedside table. Absently, he
lit two cigarettes and offered Harry one. "Do you have a better idea?"
"Well, the training. We could extend the arrangement, officially."
"And then people -- at least the headmaster and Professor McGonagall and your
friends -- would know that you were meeting with me ... twice a week, perhaps?"
"That would work." Harry thought that he might need a few detentions to
supplement that schedule, but it was a good base. He lay back on the bed and
wondered if it was fireproofed. Curiously, he flicked ash onto the coverlet. It
burned out without singeing.
"If it became more widely known, certain people might wonder at my inability to
take you from the school."
"Well, if Dumbledore knows I'm with you, you'd have a hard time with it,
right?"
"Yes. Their reaction is still a risk, but a tolerable one." Severus hesitated.
"What I am actually doing is far more of a risk."
"May I stay with you, tonight?"
Severus raised his head, all unease vanishing behind a practiced leer. "As long
as you don't plan to sleep."

The next evening, Harry went to the top of the North Tower and watched
nervously for the return of the other students. Despite his worry, he was
stifling occasional yawns. When the Hogwarts Express finally appeared, he went
back down inside to warm up by the fire. It wouldn't do to look like he had
been waiting.
He was rereading the same Transfiguration page for the third time when the
portrait hole opened and students began to climb in, one after another.
Hermione let out a little squeal as she ran over to him, and Harry stood up
into an unexpected hug.
"We missed you so much, Harry! Everyone sends their love, and Bill is home now.
I hope you weren't too horribly bored."
At the "we," Harry looked uncertainly past her, but Ron was smiling, albeit
nervously, at Hermione's words.
"Yeah -- not like you to be studying alone, mate."
Harry knew there was a stupidly wide smile spreading across his face, but he
couldn't seem to help it. "You know what they say -- boredom is a dangerous
thing."
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