Upon returning to his rooms Sunday evening, Severus had been confused at finding them empty.  He was sure he'd left the them locked, but even if he hadn't Harry didn't go near the door.  The boy quite literally stood at least ten feet from it at all times - fifteen if he heard the thudding footsteps of students passing by in the corridor.

At first, he'd assumed Harry must be in the bedroom, probably taking a nap or something equally lazy.  Severus very much looked forward to the day when he could kick Harry out and make him take a walk and, for god's sake, get some sun.  He took a moment to reflect on the irony of that, considering his own pasty complexion, but it wasn't as if Severus never went outside.  He attended Quidditch games and school functions, like every other teacher.  He simply did not tan.  Oh, he burned well enough, which was why he often stayed inside and saved himself the bother of brewing lotions of ward off the sun's harmful rays.

As he searched his rooms, finding no sign of his charge, confusion gave way to concern.  Harry wouldn't leave on his own, which meant something had to have come in and gotten him, but who would do that?  Certainly not Draco, who had, up until now, been perfectly content to spend the day lounging in Severus' living room where the mindless prattle of the masses of immature students didn't congest his much more important thoughts.  Like how he was going to convince his father that he needed a new broom for next year.

The more he thought about it, the more his concern became anger, because it really would have been just like Draco to do something as stupid as take Harry out into the public and Harry might have gone if Draco had been convincing enough.  As much as Severus would like to think otherwise, Draco really did have a gift for manipulation.  Didn't Draco understand what was at stake here?  If Voldemort found out where Harry was, Severus was as good as dead.

Severus was just to the point of leaving his rooms and marching into Slytherin, demanding to know where the little brat was, when his door opened and he was literally bowled over by an overly enthusiastic Harry.  It took him a moment to regain his composure.  That moment caused him to trip on his own feet and land on the couch, with Harry kneeling on the floor, arms still wrapped around Severus' waist.

"What..."

He stopped himself as he spotted Draco standing in the doorway and any question as to what Harry had been doing fled.  Considering the state of Draco's untucked, wrinkled shirt, equally wrinkled trousers, and tousled hair, he knew very well what Harry had been doing.  A Malfoy, as Lucius had repeated told him in their younger years, did not go out into public with even a single hair out of place - unless he had been well and thoroughly shagged, in which case it was perfectly acceptable, as long as the partner in question was suitably brag-worthy.

The silence dragged on between the three of them and Draco crossed his arms over his chest, a self-satisfied smirk creeping over his face.  "He refused to come back alone, said there were too many people."

"You didn't..."

"No one saw him."  Draco interrupted, holding up his arm so the material of an invisibility cloak shimmered in the candle light.  "Though people are going to be asking me why I kept stumbling through the common's room.  Rumor will have it by tomorrow morning that I was drunk or some other nonsense.  I'd never go out into public that inebriate, but people will believe anything."

Severus scowled, but refrained from speaking, mostly because the only thing holding him back from strangling the prat was the equally annoying leach gripping him so tightly he was starting to lose feeling in his legs.

If Draco noticed Severus' rage, he ignored it, instead sighing balefully at the prospect of the impending rumor.  "Of course, I won't deny it and I'll be forced to send an apology letter to my father for embarrassing him, because I could hardly tell him the truth.  Such are the hardships of life, I suppose."

Severus very much wanted to have a word with Draco about hardships, starting with Crucio.

"I'll be leaving you two alone then."  Draco's eyes shifted down for a moment then back up to meet Severus' enraged glare.  "Don't be too hard on him, Professor, he was only doing what you told him to."

The door shut and Severus was left with a feeling very much like being slapped in the face.  It was true, he had told Harry to find someone his age to sleep with, but he'd hardly expected the boy to go out and find someone the very next day.  He'd expected it to take months of coaxing and teaching before he was even prepared to step one foot outside the door, let alone get all the way to Slytherin.  What was it Dumbledore was always saying?  Oh, yes, anything was possible with the proper motivation.  Severus had always insisted that was a load of shite.  Apparently, not.

"Harry, you'll have to let go, or they'll be amputating my dead limbs."  Harry immediately released his grip, throwing himself back half a foot and looked up at Severus, horror written in his wide eyes.  "I was joking."

The horror turned to embarrassment and the tips of Harry's ear went pink.  He hung his head and Severus waited with patience he didn't even know he possessed for the boy to say something.  "I'm sorry."

It was so soft, that Severus had thought he was hearing things, but Harry looked up and said it again, louder and more purposeful.  "I'm sorry if I worried you.  Draco said I must have, because I didn't leave a note or anything, but I'm... I didn't know that I was supposed to."

Indeed, he wouldn't have.  Harry had never left a room in his life.  So, surely it wouldn't have occurred to him to leave anything telling Severus where he would be.  "I'm not angry about that."

Harry's eyes dropped.  "But you are angry."

"I hardly meant for you to sleep with the first person that came to mind."

"I don't know anyone else."  Harry's chest ached and he looked intently at the carpet, unsure how to explain what he was feeling or why.

"You should have waited until you did."

Tears stung Harry's eyes and he bit his lip to keep them from spilling over.  "But, I..." Want you?  Need you?  He didn't know what he should say, or how he should say it.

Severus stood him up, steered him into the bedroom and pushed him firmly towards the bed.  "Go to bed, Harry.  We'll discuss this later."

Harry wanted to discuss it now.  He wanted to explain himself and to maybe understand what he had done wrong.  Severus had told him to do something and he'd done it, but now Severus was saying that he wasn't supposed to have.  It was confusing and it... it hurt.

Laying down, Harry pulled the covers up over his head and closed his eyes, trying to ignore his racing thoughts and go to sleep, like Severus had told him to, half worried that was the wrong thing to do as well.

 

*****

 

The next morning, Severus tried hard not to be ashamed of himself as he gently untangled himself from Harry's limbs, quietly prepared for the morning with as little light as possible, and snuck out of the dungeon without waking Harry.

It had taken him hours to fall asleep the night before and he'd laid awake, thinking about the situation and what it meant.  In the end, he'd been forced to come to terms with the simple fact that there was no point being angry with Harry for what had happened.  He somehow doubted the boy had ever, in his entire life, been given any kind of ultimatum.  Voldemort had never been the kind of master to give treats and rewards for a job well done.  If you failed in a task, you were punished.

So, in all likelihood, Harry had spent his years simply doing what he was told and when faced with a situation where he could have something he wanted if he did something else, he would have responded to it in the way he had responded to every other task.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became with himself, because he should have known.  It was quite obvious in the way Harry did everything he was told with little to no questions.  If Severus set some strange, new food in front of him, he didn't pick at it or ask what it was, he just ate it.  If Severus handed him a deck of cards and said play with this, he did.  Naturally, if Severus not only told him to sleep with someone his own age, but promised a reward for doing so, of course Harry was going to go about it, and as quickly as possible.

Then, of course, there was Malfoy, who took the brunt of Severus' anger.  The pompous little brat knew what Harry was, had approached Severus about it shortly after he'd confirmed it with Harry.  He knew that Harry was not capable of making reasonable decisions about... well, anything, really.  Harry didn't understand what a choice was, let alone competent enough to make one.

Yet, Harry had shown up in Slytherin, asks Draco for sex and Draco had done it.  Severus doubted there was even any kind of discussion as to why they were doing it and he further doubted that Draco had waited a full five minute between getting the proposition and accepting it.

However, as angry as Severus was with Draco, fifth year Slytherin's didn't have potions until the end of the day, so there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it until then.  Each tick on the clock at the end of the room sounded like an axe slowly falling, waiting to sever the head of Draco bloody Malfoy.  Or at least threaten him, because Dumbledore might not be pleased with Severus if he beheaded a student, no matter how much Draco might deserve it.

When the last class of the day finally filed into the room, including one tow-headed Slytherin that still had that freshly shagged smirk on his pale face, he had to contend himself with snapping at the Gryffindors.

"Ms. Granger, what, may I ask, are you doing?"

"I'm dicing my root, Professor Snape."

"That's not dicing, that is butchering.  If you can't do it right, you should have left it up to your partner."  He eyed her red haired lab partner and sneered.  "On second thought, I suppose I should be thanking you for sparing us.  However, in the future, Ms. Granger, this is diced,"  He pointed to a picture in the book that looked exactly the same as the contents of her chopping block before moving on to praise Crabbe and Parkinson, ignoring Ms. Granger's red face.

It was a shame really.  Ms. Granger was a very smart, talented student.  Granted, she lacked imagination and took far too long on most assignments - spending twice the time making sure that everything was perfect - but when having to chose between that and Longbottom, who hurried through everything and half the time succeeded only in blowing up his cauldron, he would have chosen her any day.

Actually, if she had been in any other House, and if he hadn't already been bound to take in Draco, he might have been tempted to offer her an apprenticeship.  Not that he would ever, on pain of things worse than death, admit that, least of all to her.

Finally the hours ended and he was nearly pent up enough to dismiss the class without homework.  Nearly.  It wouldn't do to spoil his reputation.  The class groaned in unison, all, he noticed, except for Draco, who also sat perfectly still in his seat while the others filed out as they had come in.

Once they were alone, Severus fully expected Draco to say something, but he did not.  Instead, he stood and began packing his books, slowly and without any kind of tension.  The smirk never wavered.

"What were you thinking?"  Severus stood as well, putting his hands on the desk to stop them from shaking with rage.  How dare Draco come in here and act as if he had done nothing wrong?  "How could you possibly think it would be alright for you to... have sex with him?"

Draco looked up then, one eyebrow raised.  "He asked.  If I remember correctly, that's the protocol for consensual sex these days.  Unless someone passed a new mandate stating that I need written consent, in which case, I'm sure Harry would be more than willing to provide you with that."

Despite his amiable expression, the sarcasm dripping Draco's tone took Severus by surprise.  As cheeky as the boy was, it was rarely anything beyond token.  Draco simply didn't have it in him to stand up to anything - most likely one of the many effects of being raised by the over bearing Lucius Malfoy.

Severus gathered his thoughts quickly and opened his mouth for a retort of his own, but Draco apparently wasn't finished.  "Although, since you're always going on about cause and effect, I suppose the real reason I did it was because you told him to."

That was uncalled for.  Yes, Severus was always nagging at Draco about understanding the implications of what he said and did, but that was because Draco rarely even thought about it and, actually, this was a very good example of when something he'd done could have serious ramifications and he'd ignored all that and done it anyway.  Harry was Draco's friend, his first and only, and Draco had used that, regardless of who had asked for what.

"Now, see here..."

Draco slammed his hands down on the desk, mimicking Severus' pose and any trace of humor or good grace was gone, replaced by anger that rivaled Severus' own.  "No, you see.  You may not realize this, but you are the first person that he has ever truly wanted and what did you when he came to you with that?  You not only turned him away, you told him to go fuck someone else first."

Never, in all his years, had he heard Draco use that kind of language and Severus very nearly flinched.

"What were you thinking, Professor - that he'd wait a month and get over it?"

Finally, Severus found his voice, "I was trying to keep him from making a mistake, one that you have now perpetuated.  Harry does not understand and he should not be going around flippantly have sex with people.  You..."

Draco's face heated.  "You should be more concerned about your own mistakes."

Before dragging Harry back to Snape's quarters, Draco had dragged hours of detailed accounts of his childhood from Harry, learning what had been done to him and what hadn't.  He'd been appalled and disgusted by not only Voldemort's actions, but his own father's.  Mostly, though, with every word that Harry spoke, he found himself becoming and more possessive.  Malfoys don't admit their mistakes, they fix them and Draco knew that his father would never admit this one, so he'd have to fix it himself.

Only the more Harry talked, the more Draco realized that he wasn't the one that was going to be able to fix it.  Harry was curious about Draco, but he didn't give him the same kind of blind obedience that he did Severus.  Whether it was because Severus was a Death Eater or simply because he was adult, Harry respected him and trusted him and if Severus told him something, showed him, Harry would believe it.

Draco suspected Severus knew this, but it was another matter altogether to get the man to do anything about it.  Worse, Draco didn't even know where to begin.

Frustrated, he pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder and glared at Severus.  "Did he tell you that he gave his first blow job when he was six?  Or that the first time he had sex was when he was eight?  Did he tell you that he begged for it, pleaded, because he wanted so very much to be good and the only time he was ever praised was when he took a finger up the arse?  Did he tell you that it hurt so bad he cried, but he was so relieved, because it was something he could do, something his Master told him he was good at?"

"He goes on and on about how much the Dark Lord cared about him, but he didn't.  Someday that will sink in and he's going to need someone he can trust to be there for him and, Merlin only knows why, but he trusts you, he looks up to you, he wants you.  Do you have any idea what that means?"

Now that he'd started, Draco was having a difficult time stopping.  He'd spent the entire day thinking about everything Harry had said the night before and the more he thought about it, the more he'd realized exactly how important Harry wanting anything was.  ‘Want' was probably one of the first things Voldemort had taken from Harry, before Harry'd even understood what it really was. 

Snape hadn't answered Draco, hadn't said a single word and a temper that Draco hadn't realized he could possess for someone else flared.  "It means you can hurt him, and you can make him feel, really feel. In fact, I envy you that, but I can't help feeling sorry for Harry, because you're going to a break his heart before he even realizes he has one."

Before he could say any of the other things that were pressing at the back of his throat, he turned around and stormed out, leaving his stunned Professor still standing at his desk.  It wasn't until he was standing in front of Snape's door that the full impact of everything he had said hit him.

Did he really envy Snape?

He thought about Harry's face when he had been sitting on Draco's lap, flushed, mouth open, eyes glazed with lust, and how that had gone from sensual to mischievous in less that a second when Harry had said ‘no'.  It was as disconcerting now as it had been then.  Harry had seemed so caught in the moment, like he needed it, but he hadn't.  The entire episode had been a test, just Harry trying something he'd never done before to see if it would work.

Draco leaned against the wall and ran his hand through his stiffly gelled hair.  Until he had realized that Harry didn't want it, he hadn't realized how much he had.  Harry wasn't like anyone else Draco had ever met.  The things he did, the questions he asked should have been annoying, but they only served to make Draco want to protect him.  He'd never felt for anyone what he felt for Harry.

So, yes, he did envy Snape.  The idea was unsettling.  Draco wasn't used to envying people.  He was a Malfoy - if he saw something he wanted, he got it.  This was something he couldn't have.  He cared enough about Harry that, even if he wanted Harry so badly it hurt, he wanted Harry to have what he wanted more.  So, if Snape was what Harry wanted, Snape was what Harry was going to get.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and gathered his composure.

Inside the room, Harry was sitting on the floor, legs folded under him, staring at the meticulously arranged chess board on the coffee table like it was so much Hippogryff dung.  Harry didn't look up when the door opened, but he must have known it was Draco, because he said, "He's mad at me."

Draco walked across the room and sat on the sofa next to Harry.  "No, he's not.  He's mad at me, he's just taking it out on you."

Harry sighed heavily and looked up into the corner of the room, "You can go now, Mimi."

Draco did a double take as he saw the little house elf pop out of existence.  Damn, he hated house elves.  They were always there and you never saw them and then they went and told your father you were using boot polish on his chair so that he'd have a black smudge in the shape of a rude finger gesture on the back of his charcoal grey cloak.  Stupid bloody house elves and their, ‘Young Master Malfoy can not be feeding the thestrals chocolate!'

"I just don't understand."  Draco pulled himself from his thoughts and focused on Harry again, who had sat back against the sofa, his knees pulled up to his chest, "If he isn't angry with me, then why would he act like that?  Why would he send me to bed with hardly a word and then not even wait for me to wake up before leaving?"

Draco put his hand on Harry's head, "People do that sometimes, especially Snape.  Trust me, though, he thought it over and went straight for my throat the minute we were alone together."

"Are you okay?"  Harry turned around, looking at Draco expectantly.

With a chuckle, Draco pulled his robe off and scooted over, motioning for Harry to join him.  "I meant figuratively, Harry.  He just tried to yell at me a bit."

"Oh."

"Come on, get up here."  Reluctantly, Harry did as he was told, sitting up on the sofa.  "Don't feel badly about him yelling at me.  It wasn't your fault.  I should never have agreed to sleep with you."

Harry stiffened, "Didn't you like it?"

Draco flinched and put a finger under Harry chin, making him look over. "I like it, Harry, but sex shouldn't be like that.  It shouldn't be something you just do, it should mean something."  Merlin, he sounded just like Pansy, but he did mean it, at least where Harry was concerned.

After a moment, Harry nodded and closed his eyes, lying down so his head was in Draco's lap.  "I just... I'm so confused.  I don't understand half of what you or Severus tell me and sometimes I just wish Tom would hurry up and come get me so everything could make sense again - make it so I don't feel like I'm on the outside look in."

"You'd rather be on the inside look out?  Because that's where you were before."

Harry didn't answer and for several minutes they sat like that, both in their own thoughts, enjoying the silence and each other's presence.  Eventually, Draco managed to bring his thoughts back around to where they'd been before - set on getting Harry what he wanted - which was much easier than puzzling out how to make Harry understand things that Draco had always taken for granted.

"You know what, Harry?  I think you just haven't been persistent enough."  Harry looked up with a confused frown and Draco smiled.  If there was one thing he truly enjoyed, it was a good plotting.