TBGCTBGC
He Defines Me
Chapter Twelve
Severus sat in first period, pretending to grade the papers in front of him while trying very hard not to look too pleased with himself. If he wasn’t careful the uncharacteristic, stupid grin he’d caught himself wearing first woken would plaster itself on his face again, and the last thing he needed was to give young Malfoy more betting ammo.
That morning, as he’d been getting ready, Harry had broken into fits of laughter, curling himself around one of the larger pillow to muffle the sound. He’d had the common decency to be reluctant when Severus asked him about it, however, reluctant apparently meant he only had to be asked twice.
Since then Severus had been trying not to act as though he’d just had possible the most brilliant sex in his entire life after a year of celibacy. He was also trying to figure out who was taking the bets, and he already had his suspicions. Sensing someone staring, he discreetly scanned the room out of the corner of his eye and saw a first year girl looking back, chewing the end of her quill. Great, the first years were probably in on it too.
Lifting his head he plastered what he hoped was an intimidating glare on his face and stared back. He hadn’t wanted to make her cry, he was trying not to smile at her because, besides ruining his reputation, Malfoy would know for sure what had happened if he started grinning like a fool at first years. Whether he was trying to or not, however, the young girls bottom lip began to quiver as she shot out of her desk and through the door, loud sobs echoing down the corridor. Now, that might just work.
Draco trudged down the hall towards Snape’s chambers as the bell to what should have been his last class rang. Having heard that the number of girls his potions professor had made cry that day was closer to twenty, he was beyond baffled. The man had broken his own personal record, set back when he first started teaching, before Dumbledore had pulled him aside and told him that wasn’t exactly the most prudent way to go about it.
Quickly glancing up and down the passage way to ensure he was alone, he whispered the password and slid in, looking around the room. Usually Harry was wide awake by now, anxiously trying to keep himself busy until Draco showed up.
A sudden murmur from the couch caught his attention, and he saw Harry, curled up, wet hair hanging in his face, mouth slightly open, squeezing his fists up against his face. Draco walked over to the sofa and sat down, chin on the cushion next to Harry’s head, and watched him. His friend’s eyes were puffy, cheeks and nose blotchy with red, and he kept sniffing. It was almost as though he’d been crying. Shaking the other boy’s shoulder gently, he waited for Harry to open his perfect emerald eyes, questioning gaze immediately replaced with one of surprise, "Draco, what are you doing here? Mimi said she’d wake me when classes were over. Did something happen to her?"
Draco shook his head an pushed a stray strand of black hair behind Harry’s ear, "Harry, were you crying?"
Harry looked, for a moment, as though he wasn’t sure what Draco was talking about, but then understanding crept into his face and he nodded, "Oh? Oh, yeah, I did. Is that wrong?"
"What happened?"
Harry’s body seemed to go entirely limp as he drew his knees against his chest and wrapped his arms around them, blushing vividly against his pale skin, "We made love."
For a moment Draco could only think Harry had somehow been getting into the trash romance novels. Then it hit him. They had sex. They had sex and Harry cried, and Snape was possible in the worst mood he had ever been throughout his entire teaching career, "Harry, did he hurt you?"
Shaking his head vigorously, Harry smiled blissfully, "No, it was wonderful."
"Then why were you crying?" Harry lifted a his hand up to his throat, perfect finger nails brushing against the bare, smooth skin. "Oh, the collar’s gone."
Harry nodded, his face downcast for the moment as he held out his wrist, showing Draco the loose fitting leather cuff still wrapped around it, "I don’t want to take this off just yet, because of the tattoo, but Severus says he’ll get me something smaller and less... less demeaning."
It all clicked. Trust Snape to find a way to break fourteen years of training that lead to mind shattering sex. Draco refused to believe anything other than mind shattering could make a self respecting male call it ‘making love.’
Another thought struck him as well, and he clenched his fist, slapping it into an open palm in frustration. Who was to say Snape wasn’t having the time of his life? Who was to say that his way of showing how happy he was led to crying first years? Dammit, he could just see the look on the Weasley twin’s faces when they collected in the morning.
Harry scrunched his nose up and leaned forward, "What’s wrong?"
Sitting back on his feet, Draco shrugged, "Lost another bet."
"Severus says you gamble too much."
The blonde’s head snapped up, and he found that no matter how many times he opened and closed his mouth, it didn’t seem to work. Closing it altogether, he took a few deep breaths, "You told him?" Harry nodded slowly, his eyes a little wider as he began to expect retribution. "Did you tell him what we were betting on?"
Harry didn’t even have to nod, the apologetic glance was more than enough answer. They stared at each other for a few minutes until an evil glint sparked in Draco’s grey eyes. Harry stopped smiling shyly, realizing exactly what it was the other boy was thinking. He gave a rather undignified squeak and began scrambling over the back of the sofa in a vain attempt to get away from Draco’s cruel revenge tactics.
Within moments he found himself behind the couch, on his back with the blond above him. Draco straddled Harry’s bucking hips, effectively pinning him as he tickled, "You are going to have to learn that there are some things you do not tell my potions professor."
Harry kicked his feet against the floor, twisting and trying to protect his sides from attack, "Draco, please, I can’t breath!"
The two boy’s, laughing and writhing on the floor, were so caught up their game that neither heard the door open.
____________________
Voldemort had been watching it for a while now, and until Malfoy’s brat had come in, he’d been feeling much more relaxed and in control than he had for a month. In fact, that very morning he’d been telling himself he might have to torture the young prisoner Malfoy had caught to relive his pent up stress.
The past three weeks had been trying at best, closer to hell. Lucius had suffered hours of various torture convincing the Dark Lord that assembling all death eaters and storming Hogwarts was not the best course of action, especially considering that they were on the decline and Malfoy Manor would not serve well as a base of operations.
Lucius could be an intelligent man when his life or fortune was on the line, and he knew that unless he came up with a working plan in a relatively short time he would probably be looking at the wrong end of Avada Kedavra. So, he’d spent the last weeks neglecting his work at the ministry and plotting the best way to get inside Hogwarts and retrieve his master’s pet.
The plan, when it was finished, was brilliant. Only three spells were needed, one of which was not even cast on him. The first left him little more than a specter, an invisible ghost, unable to touch or smell, but it also gave him ability to walk through walls. The second spell was of a cloaking nature. Hogwarts defenses were highly sensitized, and a cloaking spell in itself would do nothing, but when combined with the other it was impossible to detect whether a person had entered the facility until they were taken off.
The third spell had been so simple Voldemort had found it humorous. A timed portkey. It had been so obvious that it had taken Lucius until two days ago to realize it. Hogwarts was warded against apparition, and it just had not occurred to any of them that a simple little portkey could work.
So at eight a.m that morning, as the students were settling into first period and there were only a few stragglers left in the hall, Voldemort had made his way down the familiar corridors to Snape’s chambers. Passing through door into the rooms usually occupied by the head of house, he had, at first, been anxious, however, according to Lucius the few objects he passed through the less chance something would go wrong with the spell, so he had remained standing by the fireplace, waiting for it to make an appearance.
Not ten minutes later, he’d felt all the pent up anxiety from the month spill out of him as it entered the room, hair dripping wet around it’s pale, delicate features, sniffing childishly as it lay on the couch and curled into a ball, hands held protectively at it’s face.
He wanted to sit next to it and brush the wet strands away from the eyes, get a clear look at it’s face, breath in the intoxicating scent, but that could wait. All of that could wait until the portkey shook in his pocket letting him know it was time to take the spells off, minutes from time to leave.
Part of him was cursing Malfoy for having set the damn thing to take so long - the timing on the portkey had been debatable, but there was chance it was not in Snape’s chambers, and if that were the case the extra time would be needed - another part was reminding him that his raage had been so great he would most likely never have gotten inside the walls.
Occasionally it had shifted, or twisted, making it’s precious little noises. It was having a nightmare, and he could not help but smile to himself. He’d missed those sounds. When the door had first opened he’d half expected to see Severus standing there. Much to his own amusement, it appeared to be Malfoy’s brat.
He’d never seen Draco without heavy cloaks covering him head to toe, but the resemblance was remarkable. Watching the boy walk over to it, he took in the silken blonde hair, stormy grey eyes, and smooth skin. The boy was beautiful, and as he knelt next to the pet he was even more so. The two were like celestial beings, one fallen, one on high, so contrasting it was breath taking. Voldemort watched them, thinking it might be fun to take the other boy for one night, maybe more, if for no other reason than to punish Lucius for not finding a way for him to get to Snape as well.
Licking his lips, he watched it wake up, sparkling eyes almost instantly alert, bright and aware, "Draco, what are you doing here? Mimi said she’d wake me when classes were over. Did something happen to her?"
Mimi sounded very much like a house elf’s name, and waking someone would be a house elf’s job. Besides, there was at least one of those little creatures who knew it was here, the one who had slipped the information to Tibby. He winced slightly at the thought, too bad about Tibby, he really should have kept a reign on his temper. Finding a new elf would not be easy.
He watched the platinum blond brush dark hair behind its’ ears, staring deeply into the green pools, too deeply to make Voldemort comfortable, "Harry, were you crying?"
So, they knew what it had been. He’d wondered, but then it was inevitable. It looked so much like its father and the old fool Dumbledore seemed to have an almost photographic memory. He watched it stare, as if unsure for the moment, before the confusion lifted, "Oh? Oh, yeah, I did. Is that wrong?"
So innocent, so perfect, so afraid that everything it did was wrong. Draco appeared to be used to this and did not allow it to phase him, neither confirming nor rejecting the thought, "What happened?"
A look crossed its’ face, one Voldemort had never seen before, not even the first time he’d given it something it asked for, not even the first time he’d been unable to punish it. I seemed so blissful, pulling into itself in its own pleasure, "We made love."
"Did he hurt you?"
‘Of course not, you daft child, its practically glowing.’
And it was, it was smiling sweetly, innocent and perfect, but not for its master. It was smiling for some traitorous fool who was now going to die very slowly as well as painfully "No, it was wonderful."
Draco sat back almost imperceptibly in confusion, "Then why were crying?" As it lifted its manicured fingernail (thank god it had kept up with those perfect little shell like hands) the blond sudenly showed far too much understanding, "Oh, the collar’s gone."
Truly worthy to inherit the Malfoy estate. The boy was as bad as his father, stating the obvious to make himself sound insightful. He saw it hold out it’s wrist and was slightly pleased to see that at least one cuff was still in place, "I don’t want to take this off just yet, because of the tattoo, but Severus says he’ll get me something smaller and less... less demeaning."
Ruined. It was ruined. How was in possible to ruin fourteen years of work in one month? Voldemort saw red, but clenched his fist against the rage. He couldn’t take the spells off yet, or he’d be discovered before he could get away. It would have to be punished, really punished, painfully punished, not just left on a bed for the day to be bored.
His thoughts were disrupted as he heard a familiar squeak followed by a crash, and he looking up just in time to see the two boys tumble over the back of the sofa. Walking around to get a better look, he felt the anger ebb out. This was better than muggle porn. It was writhing under the pint sized Malfoy, bucking and laughing, perfectly unaware of exactly how erotic the scene looked.
Draco swept his fingers over the its sides, attempting to get them deeper under its arms, "You are going to have to learn that there are some things you do not tell my potions professor."
It pulled its arms closer, trying to protect itself and attack back at the same time, "Draco, please, I can’t breath!" The boy’s lack of mercy was a turn on in itself, and Voldemort was tempted to jack off to them right then, besides, he was rather curious as to whether his cum would be invisible as well.
Before he could act on the urge, a clicking noise caught his attention and he looked up, all thoughts of sexual pleasure fleeing his mind as he saw Severus Snape in the doorway.
-tbc-