Albus could call it ‘testing his boundaries’ all he wanted, Severus called it breaking rules. He also called it throwing a screaming temper tantrum when Harry was told he had to sleep alone on the bed. Severus had tried to be strong. He’d lectured Harry, yelled at him, even locked the bedroom door from the outside, but every morning, he woke up with Harry on the floor next to the sofa. After three days, he gave up. The sofa wasn’t nearly as comfortable as his bed and if Harry weren’t going to use it, he might as well.

Harry’s personality rotated between deplorably innocent and sexually explicit. One minute he was laying on his stomach, tracing the pattern in the rug and humming to himself, the next, he’d be on his back with his shirt bunched up around his chest, dripping hot wax on his abdomen with sharp hisses and a bitten lower lip. Really, there was only so much one man could take.

Thankfully, school was in session five days out of the week, which meant he spent only a minimal amount of time in his rooms. He slipped out before Harry woke, took breakfast in the Great Hall, took lunch there as well, and stayed in his office until an hour before dinner.

Oh, and dinner was another matter entirely and one as equally frustrating. Voldemort had decided in his infinite wisdom that his pet should be vegetarian, though Severus had to admit he was hard pressed to remember a time when he had seen the Dark Lord eat meat. Not that Severus ate dinner with him often, but there had been a few occasions over the course of the last few years.

Despite never having had meat before, Harry’s curiosity knew no bounds. Without asking what was on his plate, without hesitation, he ate every single piece of beef with only the slightest indication that he found it strange or distasteful. Twenty minutes later, he was bent over the toilet, heaving up his entire dinner, Severus awkwardly patting his back. Further experiments proved that poultry and fish did not have the same nauseating affect, though, while Harry may not have said anything aloud, the wrinkled nose and tight brows were enough to tell Severus that fish was unappreciated.

The only positive things Severus had to say as the end of the week came and went, was that at least Harry had learned to keep his clothes on and even that had one significant draw back. He suspected the change in Harry’s behavior was due to the insight Draco Malfoy, who, on Sunday morning, had shown up with a pair of black leather pants, saying that he thought Harry might like them better. He was right and Severus could only be thankful for it. What he hadn’t been thankful for was the way Draco had trailed behind Harry the rest of the day, staring unabashed at the way the tight leather clung to Harry’s hips and thighs.

Since then, Draco had taken it upon himself to spend as much time with Harry as possible. The minute class let out, Draco went to Severus’ quarters, where he stayed until Severus kicked him out for the night. There had even been two occasions when Severus had not seen Draco at lunch and Mimi had confirmed that he had come by and eaten with Harry. Most likely, the sudden interest in Harry was due to Draco’s curiosity over who he was and had little to do with the adolescent masturbatory fantasies that Severus had no doubt Draco was harboring.

Although, in the long run he supposed he shouldn’t be complaining. With Draco around, Harry paid less attention to Severus. Like now, for instance.

Severus had been in his quarters for a full hour, planning assignments and making the list of ingredients that would be necessary for each, and Harry had yet to do more than give him the customary hug upon his entering the door before returning to sit on the floor, playing chess while he talked with Draco.

Severus cringed a little as he realized that somehow a good evening hug had become acceptable. Only seven days and he was already losing his edge. He’d have to do something soon or Draco might leak it to the other students that he was becoming soft. A shudder followed the cringe at that thought.

A quick glance at the boys showed that Draco was losing to Harry. He personally would not have taught something like strategy to the boy he was keeping captive, but then, he supposed that hadn’t been a problem as Harry hadn’t seen it as captivity. In the past week, Severus had purposefully kept his door unlocked, but Harry had yet to so much as touch it. He was perfectly content to stay in the rooms and amuse himself with books and parchment and chess.

They hadn’t talked in a while, but Severus was hardly surprised when he heard Malfoy speak up. Peace and quiet were quickly becoming a fond memory. "So, do you fancy him?"

Him? If Draco had brought another issue of Playwizard for Harry to look at, Severus was going to give him Saturday detentions for the rest of the month. In fact, make that two, because Harry had been very clingy that night.

Harry’s neck turned red and he snuck a glance to the side at Severus. "Maybe."

Definitely a Playwizard. He’d never seen Harry blush at anything else.

"How can it be maybe? Either you do or you don’t."

Harry picked at the carpet, the blush creeping over onto his cheeks. "Well, he makes me feel... different. Like, tingly and warm inside. With Tom, it was...

Severus stood up on instinct at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name and turned around, glaring at the boys. Harry was at least a little cowed, but Draco only smirked. If by ‘him’ they meant the Dark Lord, Draco wasn’t going to be the only one in trouble. Harry wasn’t supposed to be talking about Voldemort. Even though Draco had defected for all intents and purposes, he could still change his mind and with a tidbit of information like where Harry was, he would have all the ammunition he needed.

"Draco, it’s almost time for dinner, go to your room before your housemates miss you.

Draco scoffed, leaning back in his seat. "My housemates could give a rat’s arse..."

"I said now."

He punctuated the comment by pointing at the door and Draco rolled his eyes, giving Harry an apologetic smile. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

Harry nodded and Draco left, shutting the door a little too firmly behind him. Harry didn’t look in the least upset about this until Severus turned back around to his desk, continuing to revise his list. From the corner of his eye, he saw Harry pout and pull a book out from under the cushions of the sofa, laying down to read it.

Severus had tried to explain that Harry needn’t bother hiding what he was reading, but Harry had just shrugged and kept doing it. Severus wondered about that, but couldn’t bring himself to ask. He imagined he probably wouldn’t like the answer, anyway.

Dinner came and Severus continued to sit at his desk while Harry stayed on the floor, eating at the coffee table, his legs dexterously folded under him so that the leather pants stretched even tighter over his arse and knees.

Harry looked over suddenly, smiling when Severus looked away just as quickly. The first time Harry had worn these pants, Severus had kicked Draco out, mumbling something a "Master Baishon," which he then refused to explain to Harry, no matter how nicely he asked. He’d even tried begging, on his knees and everything, but Severus hadn’t caved, though he had looked more than a little uncomfortable.

The implication of the position was not lost on Harry. Mostly, he didn’t use it for begging, because Master didn’t like it when Harry got too persistent about anything, but he’d been on his knees often enough doing other things. Things Master did like. Things Severus might like, or maybe not, because Severus kept pushing him away.

Severus was one great mystery to Harry. He acted mean and ornery, but really he was just frustrated half the time and other half... well, Harry was pretty it was just part of who he was, nothing personal about it. Draco said that the other kids in the school were terrified of him and that it wasn’t uncommon for him to actually make first years cry.

Harry couldn’t imagine why. Sure, Severus was abrupt, like when Harry had eaten that stuff called beef and Severus had thrust a damp towel at him when he was finished sicking up, but there was kindness under it - like while Harry had been sick, Severus had knelt next to him and rubbed his back. It had been awkward and Harry had doubt Severus hadn’t done it before, but he was trying and that was more than anyone had ever done with Harry. Usually when he was sick, Tibby cleaned up his mess and gave him potions, but no one had ever coddled him before and it was... it was nice. He’d considered doing it again just to see if Severus would comfort him some more.

There were other things. Like how Harry knew that his throwing fits over sleeping alone in the bed really annoyed Severus, but Severus had yet to do more than raise his voice a little and even then it was only half-hearted. Harry had been on the receiving end of enough lectures to know when he was really in trouble. Still, it had been a relief when Severus had caved, because Harry liked the bed, he just wasn’t used to sleeping alone on something so large. He could practically swim in all the quilts. With Severus there, he could lay close and feel the comfort of something solid next to him.

Which was how he was right now, his head pillowed on Severus chest, his ear pressed against the scratchy grey cotton of Severus’ nightshirt, listening to the man’s steady heart beat and letting it lull him to sleep. It was at times like this that he almost didn’t miss his old bed.

*****

Saturday morning, Harry woke still curled up around Severus’ inert form. He didn’t lift his head to see if Severus was awake. Instead, he took the hand that was laying on Severus’ stomach and lifted a finger, curling it so he could trace around Severus’ navel. A shiver ran through the man’s body and Harry continued to trace patterns over the pale skin until Severus pushed his hand away. "What do you think your doing?"

Harry looked up, grinning in what he hoped was a wicked manner, though Master said he’d never been very good at that kind of thing. He said when Harry smiled like that, it reminded Master of all the times he’d caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Severus must have felt the same way, because he gave Harry a raised eyebrow.

With a sigh, Harry put his head back down. "You’re warm." He breathed deeply. This early in the morning, Severus hadn’t taken a shower and he smelled like herbs and sweat. Harry put his hand back on Severus’ abdomen and smiled. His stomach clenched pleasantly and he moved his hand lower, his fingers skimming the waistband Severus’ underwear through his shirt.

Severus’ muscles twitched involuntarily under his head and Harry smiled, wondering what Severus would do if he snaked that hand even lower, if he pressed it over Severus’ thickening erection. Before he could act on the thought, Severus practically jumped out of the bed, knocking Harry to the side.

It was disappointing, but not unexpected. While Harry positioned himself on his stomach, consciously feeling his own night shirt riding up his thighs, Severus hastily grabbed his clothes from the wardrobe and pulled them on, forgetting to tuck in his shirt before he pulled on his robe, buttoning it with practiced ease.

Harry liked to watch Severus dress. Underpants, undershirt, over shirt, trousers, belt, ruffled collar, vest, knee socks, boots, robe - there were so many pieces. Sometimes, he wondered how Severus remembered them all, but somehow he always did. Well, usually did. Today he had skipped the vest and the collar, but Harry thought that might have something to do with his teaching. Severus was a professor, which was apparently a very important thing. It certainly required a lot of clothing.

Straightening his robe on his shoulders, Severus glowered down at Harry. "I’m going into Hogsmeade today. You need clothes and... things." His lip curled up at the word ‘things’ and Harry wondered what they could possibly be. "Take a bath and get dressed, or stay on the bed, it makes no difference to me, but either way, you are to touch nothing. Draco should be down shortly. Behave yourself until he gets there. Have I made myself clear?"

"How can I take a bath and get dressed if I can’t touch anything?" Severus’ scowl deepened and Harry laughed. "Yes, yes, you’ve made yourself perfectly clear. Touch nothing. Behave myself."

"Yes." Before Harry could do more that stick his tongue out at Severus’ retreating back, the man was gone.

He counted to two hundred after the door had closed, making sure Severus hadn’t forgotten anything. Sometimes Master would forget something and come back and one such time Harry had been caught taking a book out from under the cushion of the chair. He’d been sternly reprimanded and left to his own devices for four whole days. It was a punishment that Harry would not soon forget and so he had made it a point to wait a long while before moving, just in case.

Severus didn’t seem to mind Harry reading, but it was a habit and Harry didn’t see the need to break it, especially since Master would eventually come for him. With a long stretch, Harry let himself roll off the bed, falling into a crouch and then standing up, looking around the room curiously.

After a moment, he went into the living room, skulking up to the glass fronted cabinet that Severus kept his potions in. They were written in Latin and while he understood some of the language, there were quite a few labels that he didn’t understand. Most of the time he was alone, he spent sleeping and reading, but sometimes, if he was feeling particularly brave, he tried to translate what the potions meant and then look up their purpose.

Today was the thick, baby blue one on the second shelf from the bottom, the one that read ‘ubertas in a vir’. In a vir, meant in a man, but ubertas he had never seen before. Harry pulled the Latin translator from under the sofa cushions and thumbed through, looking for the word.

‘Fertility.’

Harry frowned. That didn’t help at all. What was fertility? Going to Severus’ book shelves, he found the dusty dictionary and looked it up, but it only confused him more. What did it mean to be ‘able to produce young, seeds, fruit, pollen, spores, etc?’ Why would a man want to produce seeds or fruit? Though, maybe it would be useful if one were starving, or really liked strawberries.

Putting the dictionary back carefully, Harry went to take a shower. He’d ask Draco later. Draco was a wealth of knowledge. He’d explained that ‘papilla,’ which was Latin for breasts, were the round things that grew from women’s chests and that some women liked to have very large ones because men liked that. He’d also told Harry that if asked, Harry should always say that a woman’s breasts were big.

The water of the shower beat off his skin and the steam swirled around him. Master had only had a bath tub. The shower was heavenly. He could close his eyes and let the water roll off him, taking the dirt and night’s sweat with it, leaving him feeling clean. He’d only discovered it a few days ago, but he was already trying to think of a way to convince Master to put one in the room.

Draco was sitting on the bed, which had been made while he was in the bathroom. Probably by one of the house-elves. Tibby had been very good at popping in the minute Master left the room and getting the chores done quickly and quietly. She said that was what a good house elf did.

It took Harry a moment to realize that Draco was holding Harry’s leather shorts in his hand, dangling them suggestively. "Put these one?"

Harry blushed and shook his head, already reaching for the leather trousers that he’d left over the arm of a chair. Sometimes, Draco made him feel nervous, like when he stared at him for a long time or tried to get him to wear something revealing. The nervousness was strange and new and something Harry couldn’t explain. Draco said it was because Harry was developing a modicum of moral decency. He also said it like Master said the word ‘traitor,’ but Severus seemed to think it was a good thing, so Harry didn’t try to change it.

With a frustrated sigh, Draco dropped the shorts and watched Harry dress, his eyes so focused that Harry wondered if he was really seeing anything at all.

When Harry had started wearing the leather trousers, he’d taken off his ankle cuffs. They were too much bother, since he had to take them off anyway, just to get the trousers on, but he knew where they were, just in case. The wrist cuffs, however, and the collar were still in place.

Pulling on the silk tunic and tying the laces shut, he followed Draco into the living room. Draco was supposed to be teaching him a game called Exploding Snap and he was a little concerned about playing anything with the word ‘exploding’ in it, even if Draco assured him it was harmless.

Draco was setting things out on the table, a frown creasing his forehead. He was worried about something, but unless the game was really going to explode, he couldn’t imagine what.

"You were..." Harry leaned closer, listening intently to Draco’s nearly whispered words. "You were His pet, weren’t you?"

Harry bit his lip, confused. "Tom’s pet."

"No, His pet." When Harry still only stared blankly, Draco took a deep breath, "Voldemort’s."

Harry found himself looking at the floor, unable to explain the tightness in his chest. It shouldn’t matter that Draco knew, but somehow, it did. "Yes."

"Oh." Draco picked up one of the pieces and turned it over in his hand, studying it. Harry wasn’t sure why it was interested, it looked like every other one on the table. "I can’t go home for Christmas."

"What?"

"It’s a holiday. You go home and get presents and spend time with your family, but..." Draco put the piece down, but still didn’t look at Harry. "Father said the Dark Lord’s looking for a replacement and he’s afraid he’ll pick me. So, I’m to stay at school until further notice. I suppose, it doesn’t matter. I knew this was coming eventually, I just thought I had a few years, you know?"

Harry smiled and ducked his head so he could see Draco’s grey eyes. "He won’t pick you. You’re not what he needs."

Draco huffed, "What he thinks he needs is sex."

"No, that’s not right."

"How would you know? You were just his fuck toy."

"I was not his... wait, what’s a fuck toy?" It didn’t sound nice and it probably wasn’t, because Draco flinched, hanging his head further. "I heard him talking to Mister Lestrange once. Tom believes in what he’s fighting for, he couldn’t have kept it up this long if he didn’t, but all the death and pain wears him out. He told Mister Lestrange that he keeps me so he’ll have something innocent to come home to, something pure, something that isn’t tainted with his hate. That’s what he needs. You aren’t like that, you try too much to be like your father."

For a second, Draco didn’t move and Harry was afraid he might have said something wrong, something that hurt his feelings, but Draco’s shoulders began to shake and when Draco finally looked up, he was laughing. After a minute, he got himself under control and Harry watched him carefully, wondering what he was thinking and what had been so funny.

"Hey, Harry, you really fancy Snape, don’t you?"

It was Harry’s turn to hide his face, stumbling over his words, "I... um... I think so."

"You think so?"

"Yes." Harry looked up, meeting Draco’s eyes firmly. "Yes, I do... fancy him." It was strange to say it out loud, it made it more real, but that wasn’t bad. In fact, it made him feel light headed and it made his heart race excitedly. He fancied Severus.

One side of Draco’s mouth twisted higher than the other and Harry realized that that was what a wicked smile looked like, because he knew the moment he saw it that Draco had something very naughty in mind. "If you want him, you’ll need my help. Do you want him?"

Harry nodded without hesitation and Draco leaned closer, "The problem with our dear Professor Snape, is that he’s been celibate for far too long. As much as I hate to lose a bet, it would be a shame to let this opportunity go to waste. Besides, maybe if the man gets laid, I’ll get an A on my next paper. So, here’s what you do..."