A/N: A rabid plot bunny that sat on my chest and wouldn't go away until I got the whole thing written. Reposted due to the mysterious disappearance of line breaks...
Please read and review.
Disclaimer: Although I'd very much like to, I don't own Draco or Severus or any of the other characters that appear. You know the drill by now…
Through the steam rising off the cauldrons, Draco Malfoy watched his Potions professor with narrowed eyes. Something was amiss; then again, these days something was always wrong. The rest of the Wizarding world may have been in denial, but Potter knew and Snape knew and Draco most definitely knew.
Draco's eyes surreptitiously searched the contours of the face he knew by heart. Professor Snape (or Severus, as Draco called him everywhere but the classroom) had been a close friend of the family, a feature in his life practically since birth. It was Severus in whom Draco had confided his fears about leaving home for Hogwarts, Severus who Draco turned to in any moment of need, Severus who Draco trusted more deeply than he trusted his own father.
There were exactly eight centimetres of forehead between Severus' hairline and his eyebrows. His left eyebrow had a bit more arch than the right, possibly due to the tiny, almost unnoticeable scar that ran through his right eyebrow. His aquiline nose listed barely two centimetres to the right, but as his nose was his most dominant feature, of course everyone noticed it was crooked. There were dark circles under his eyes and there had been for as long as Draco could remember. He was just a man who didn't sleep unless he was near to collapsing from exhaustion. His eyes were dark and often mistaken for cold and black, but Draco knew how warm they could be and that they were actually a deep brown. His eyelashes were surprisingly long—it was the only thing remotely feminine about him. His cheekbones were high and defined; his jaw strong and square. His lips were thin, much like the rest of him. On the rare occasion that he smiled, a dimple appeared in his right cheek. Draco sometimes speculated Severus avoided smiling solely so no one would be aware of that comical and endearing dimple.
Draco knew Severus' face like the back of his own hand, but whether that was from fifteen years of familiarity with the man or from conscious study, he wasn't sure he wanted to determine. It was quite plain to Draco that Severus was preoccupied, possibly even worried, but he doubted his fellow classmates had noticed anything different. Half of them were Gryffindors, after all.
Severus swept through the classroom at the end of the class period, observing each potion carefully. Potter's, as per usual, was abysmal and Severus vanished the lot, which even Draco considered a bit harsh. Potter's potion was liquid, at least, unlike Longbottom's, which was just a burned lump of goo at the bottom of his cauldron.
Severus didn't even take the opportunity to award Slytherin house points for Draco's near-perfect Draught of Peace, so something was definitely wrong.
While the rest of the class practically bolted the moment the volatile Potions Master dismissed them, Draco hung back, packing his bag deliberately slowly.
"Are you all right, Severus?" He asked, once the last student disappeared from the room.
"Of course." Severus said coolly. It was not Draco's responsibility to worry about him, after all.
"You don't have to lie." Draco said softly. "It's only me."
Severus' dark eyes met Draco's light ones for a very long moment. The older man wondered briefly Draco's concern. He had thought the boy understood the gravity of the situation, how precarious Severus' position was, no matter from which side of the war it was viewed. The Death Eaters believed Dumbledore would kill him if he discovered his loyalty to Voldemort and the Order believed the reverse. Well, some of the Order anyway. He doubted Mad-Eye Moody or any of the Aurors would fully trust him, thanks to the Mark on his arm.
Thinking of the Mark jolted him back to reality. The Dark Lord had begun to express to Lucius his desire for Draco to take the Mark. If it were remotely possible, Severus would do everything in his power to keep Draco from making the same foolish mistake he had as a boy of seventeen. But Severus was trapped by his situation and by the knowledge that Lucius had groomed his son practically from birth to become a Death Eater.
"Severus?" Draco prodded.
"I am fine." Severus said brusquely, "Your concern is unnecessary."
He ignored the hurt look on the boy's face as he stepped past him into his office, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Draco knew, without a doubt, that he would fail. He knew the Dark Lord had set him an impossible task, something not even Voldemort himself had ever been able to achieve, to punish the entire Malfoy family for Lucius' failures at the Ministry of Magic in June.
He sat on the edge of his bed, his cuff unbuttoned, his shirtsleeve pushed up beyond his elbow. He stared at his inner arm, barely able to remember what it had looked like before. The Dark Mark was black as pitch, the snake curling and twisting on itself, the skull menacing and horrifying. It was a constant reminder of a doctrine he wasn't sure he believed, a choice he had not been permitted to make, and now, almost certainly a death sentence.
The worst part was the way Severus continued to try and help. Draco couldn't stand the idea of Severus being punished on his behalf and so he pushed the Potions Master away at every turn. He didn't want to. He wanted to curl up in a ball in Severus living quarters (a place he had only been once or twice) and cry. He wanted the older man to comfort him, to hold him in his arms and tell him everything would be fine.
But everything would not be fine and Severus would never touch Draco like that.
He heard voices on the stairs outside the dormitory and he hastily pulled his sleeve down over his arm.
Severus sat in his office, his face buried in his hands. He wasn't sure if Draco had a death wish or if the boy was truly incompetent. Not only was he refusing help, but his attempts thus far were pathetic and just attracting the Dark Lord's wrath.
He could not break his Vow to Narcissa and he would not break his promise to Albus and the day was drawing closer when he would have to follow through on both.
He did not know what it would mean for Draco when he did. He could only hope that the jubilation the Dark Lord would feel upon Albus Dumbledore's death would outweigh his outrage that the Malfoy heir apparent had not been the one to commit the murder. It seemed like such an enormous risk, especially considering how much he cared about Draco, but there was nothing to be done.
As Draco lay on the floor, Potter staring down at him in horror, he hoped for death. Bleeding out now, in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, would be preferable to whatever death the Dark Lord thought up for him. This, at least, didn't hurt…much, and he was already feeling the pull of unconsciousness gathering somewhere behind his eyelids.
Before he slipped into the darkness, a familiar face appeared above him, the forehead creased in concern, the eyes filled with worry and anger, the lips set in a thin line. He felt Severus' hands on his body and immediately changed his mind about dying. If he died, he'd never be close to this man again.
Even so, Draco's heavy eyelids drooped closed and he slipped into unconsciousness to the sound of Severus' whispered healing charms.
Draco stood, his wand out, the aging Headmaster disarmed and leaning against the parapet, talking to him quite calmly as if Draco weren't about to kill him.
Which…he wasn't. They both knew that. Dumbledore was offering him the choice the Dark Lord, Lucius and Severus had not.
Severus' appearance caused Draco's heart to drop into his stomach. This wasn't supposed to happen. If Severus killed Dumbledore now, Draco would never be able to escape from this. He would be stuck as a Death Eater for the rest of his life, however long that was.
Draco watched Severus' face, the one he knew so well, and was confused. The Potions Master did not look at the Headmaster with hatred. He had his wand out, the Killing Curse on his lips, and yet there was a softness in his eyes that Draco knew was a mixture of compassion and despair.
Draco dared to hope for a few seconds that Severus would not be able to kill Dumbledore either. But all of his hope disappeared in a flash of green light.
There was a roar of outrage and pain that did not belong to either Severus or Draco, but the latter didn't even notice. Severus had grabbed him by the collar of his robes and was dragging him toward the door.
He couldn't process anything. As they ran through the castle, spells whizzed by them, people shouted at them but they didn't stop. It was not until they were on the grounds that Potter caught up with them, bellowing like a wounded bear.
Severus shoved Draco away, and the blonde boy stumbled to the ground. He didn't care enough to climb to his feet or pay attention to the duel between Potter and Severus.
It was over in a short moment anyway, and Severus grabbed him roughly again, pulling him to his feet.
Once they were outside the Hogwarts gates, Severus wrapped his arms around the boy (and Draco remembered it was only a few months ago that he wished for something like this) and turned quickly in a circle.
Upon arriving at Spinner's End, Severus kicked Wormtail out immediately. Draco would need the second bedroom and the rat could find somewhere else to sleep quite easily.
"Why did you do that?" Draco's voice was rough.
"Don't tell me you're showing sympathy for the rat."
"You know that's not what I meant. You killed Dumbledore!" Draco's voice climbed in volume, "You ruined everything! You destroyed any hope I had of a future! WHY?" Draco bellowed the last word.
Severus glared at the boy, "Keep your voice down. I killed Albus because you didn't. I wasn't about to let the Dark Lord kill you."
Draco stared at Severus, his eyes searching the familiar face for a sign of a lie.
"There's something else." Draco said, knowing he was right.
"There isn't, you foolish boy." Severus snapped.
Draco flinched, before turning his gaze to the floor. "What's going to happen?"
"I don't know." Severus said honestly. "I expect we shall hear soon. Get some rest."
Draco climbed the stairs reluctantly—he would have argued if he weren't so exhausted. He knew there was something Severus was keeping from him.
Severus dropped onto the threadbare sofa with a half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand. He twisted the cap off and tossed it on the ground before taking a swig from the bottle. It seared all the way down, matching the sudden burning of his Dark Mark.
Severus jumped to gather his mask and robes, but realised quite quickly that it was not a summons when the Dark Lord appeared in his living room.
"My lord," Severus bowed low.
"Severus," The man who was once Tom Riddle smiled—if you could call it that. It was more of a gruesome twisting of his lips. "I must thank you for doing what our new recruit was…unable to."
"I was honoured to do it, my lord." Severus lied through his teeth. "I hope you are not displeased that things did not go according to your wishes."
"I have no displeasure with you, Severus. I doubt I will ever have reason to be displeased with you again, after your most loyal actions tonight. However, young Draco must be dealt with."
Severus felt a shiver run down his spine and hoped the Dark Lord had not noticed.
"Fear not, Severus. I will not kill him. But he does need to learn a lesson. Where is he?"
"Upstairs, my lord. In the second bedroom."
"Thank you, Severus. You shall remain down here while I pay young Mr Malfoy a visit."
Severus sank onto the sofa again once the Dark Lord ascended the stairs. He heard Draco's startled shout, probably when he woke to find that red-eyed monster standing over him. He could hear the thrum of voices, but not the actual words. And then the screaming began. Screaming that made his blood run cold and his heart falter in his chest. It seemed to continue endlessly, reverberating around the house, filling every room to the very ceiling.
It echoed in his ears long after it stopped. Voldemort returned calmly to the sitting room, another gruesome smile on his lips.
"I believe the boy has learned his lesson adequately. As a reward for your services tonight, I would like to give you some time off, Severus. I still wish for you to answer summons, of course, but you will not be participating in any of our other…activities."
"Pardon me, my lord, but that sounds more like a punishment."
"Oh, no, definitely not." The creature that had once been Tom Riddle smirked, "You see, I have grand plans for you and they require you to keep your nose clean for a few months."
"Thank you, my lord." Severus bowed his head. When he looked up again, Voldemort was gone.
Severus took the stairs two at a time, hurtling into Draco's bedroom. The blonde was still writhing in pain; giant, violent sobs shook his body and every single one of his muscles was twitching, from his toes to his eyelids.
Severus didn't know which feeling was worse—knowing that this was his fault or knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do.
He closed and warded the door behind him (Wormtail had a tendency to return after being kicked out) and toed out of his shoes. He crawled into the bed, wrapping his arms around the shaking boy and holding him close. It seemed to help, as Draco's sobs slowly gave way to hiccups. Severus was all too familiar with the aftershocks of the Cruciatus curse and unfortunately there was nothing to do but wait them out.
Draco was almost as tall as he was, but he still managed to curl his entire body protectively around his student's. (Then again, Draco was probably his former student. Murdering the Headmaster seemed like grounds for being sacked.)
Eventually, Draco fell into a fitful sleep, but Severus remained awake, watching Draco's heartbreakingly beautiful face for any signs of nightmares. Not that there was anything he could do to help there either. The magic of the Cruciatus curse remained in a victim's system for at least twenty-four hours and rendered any potions or healing spells entirely useless.
He studied Draco's face carefully in those hours that he lay awake. He had watched this boy grow from birth. He had been a happy, chubby baby who became a spoilt, arrogant child. Now, as a teenager, Severus could tell Draco was just as lost as he himself had been. His face bore the worry of someone much older than seventeen; he was far too thin, his cheekbones jutting out sharply; there were dark circles under his eyes and his forehead seemed to be permanently creased with anxiety. Severus looked beyond all of that, too. Draco's nose was long and straight, his skin almost translucent, his lips full and his eyes (when they were open, anyway) a strange colour between blue and grey. It was not surprising, of course, that Narcissa and Lucius had produced something so beautiful. As a baby and a young child, he'd been adorable. Now, he was enthralling. For three years now, Severus had felt his breath catch in his lungs when their eyes met, but never paid any attention to this reaction.
He let himself drift into sleep, deciding to continue to ignore Draco's…appeal.
Severus woke from a dream about drowning struggling to breathe. He was immediately alarmed, certain his dream had been real and the weight on his chest was pushing him further and further underwater.
He realised quite quickly, however, that he was not underwater, but in his own guest room and the weight was Draco Malfoy sprawled across his chest. The boy's icy eyes were open.
"Draco, get off. Can't breathe." Severus gasped.
"I would." Draco said apologetically, "But I can't. None of my muscles are cooperating. No idea how I ended up on top of you in the first place."
Severus' eyes softened sympathetically, and he eased out from underneath the blonde, who collapsed face-first onto the mattress.
Severus consulted his wristwatch and was surprised to discover they had both slept for nearly twenty-four hours. Understandably, in Draco's case. Severus had never slept so much at one time in his entire life.
"I'll be right back." Severus said to the boy.
He retreated to his makeshift lab in the basement, rummaging through the storage cupboards, hoping to find what he was looking for. With any luck, now that the aftershocks of the curse had worn off, Severus would be able to help Draco.
He found the greenish paste he'd been looking for and grabbed two tubs of it, just in case. He couldn't be sure if the Malfoy boy was exaggerating about his situation, so he would be prepared for the possibility that he wasn't.
Draco was lying exactly where Severus had left him, his clothes rumpled and dirty.
"I'm going to give you something for your muscle fatigue." Severus announced.
Draco grumbled something into the mattress.
"What?"
"Good." Draco repeated, turning his head gingerly and ever so slightly to the left.
"It's a paste I have to apply directly to your skin." Severus said, refusing to feel awkward. "I'm going to have to remove your clothes."
"I would help you…" Draco said, and tried to lift his arms, "But I don't think I can."
"Don't worry. It won't take me long."
It didn't. Severus just vanished the lot. He doubted Draco would ever want to wear them again anyway. Draco shivered involuntarily and Severus placed a warming charm on the room.
He unscrewed the lid of the first tub and scooped out a generous amount, kneeling on the bed next to the boy.
This, Draco decided as Severus massaged the foul-smelling paste into his aching muscles, was far better than any of the fantasies he'd been able to conjure up about the Potions Master. Although he knew there wasn't anything remotely sexual about this massage, Draco's arousal strained against the mattress beneath him.
Things became decidedly more awkward when Severus rolled him over to massage his front. There was no way Severus hadn't noticed Draco's cock standing at attention, but he didn't say anything, for which Draco was both grateful and disappointed.
Severus was glad he'd brought up both jars of the paste, as he ended up using both. When he finished, he covered the boy with the bedclothes (more for his own comfort than Draco's—the naked boy sprawled across the bed was affecting him more than he'd like to admit and he was thankful his robes were quite loose).
"That will take a little while to start working." Severus said quietly. "You should sleep some more."
Draco nodded, his eyes following Severus as the older man all but bolted from the room.
Severus knew it was inappropriate and wrong, but as he stood in the shower, hot water running down his exhausted body and his erection demanding attention, he allowed himself the one pleasure of remembering the feel of Draco's skin beneath his hands, the look of absolute relaxation on the boy's face, and the way Draco had been equally aroused.
They fell into an easy routine, living together in Spinner's End. Draco hadn't wanted to return to Malfoy Manor, considering the Dark Lord had chosen to live there, keeping Lucius and Narcissa prisoner in their own home. Severus was certain Draco would be forced to return home eventually, but until then he would stay with Severus. The Potions Master spent the majority of the day in his lab, while Draco perused the books in the living room. Draco was responsible for the cooking (and despite being taken care of by house elves his entire life, he wasn't half bad) and Severus for the clearing up. It was downright domestic.
As a rule, they didn't discuss the night Dumbledore died or anything relating to it—including the massage they had both enjoyed far too much. Or they didn't until Draco brought it up, one night mid-June, about two weeks after he'd come to stay with Severus.
"I know there's something you're not telling me about Dumbledore." Draco said as nonchalantly as he could manage.
They were in the sitting room, as had become their evening, after-dinner custom.
Severus glared at the younger man, "You know nothing of the sort."
"Don't lie to me Severus. I know you too well."
"You know nothing." Severus repeated, his scowl deepening.
Draco sighed, "It was all over your face that night, Severus. I don't know whether you were ever loyal to the Dark Lord, but you certainly aren't anymore."
The Potions Master looked shocked, his eyebrows climbing towards his hairline, his mouth hanging open. It lasted no more than a second, before his unfeeling mask returned. Draco knew he was about to take a risk, possibly the biggest of his life, but he trusted Severus more than anyone in this world.
"I don't want this anymore." Draco whispered, unconsciously grasping his left forearm. "I never did."
Severus searched the younger man's face for a long moment, before whispering, "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Severus suspected it was a mistake, as telling people the truth often was, but he couldn't help it. His entire sordid story spilled out of his mouth before he could stop it.
When he finished, Draco sat, gaping. He didn't think he'd ever heard the introverted Potions Master say so much at once. He looked more closely at the man who'd lived a double life for so long. It had taken its toll. There were streaks of grey in his dark hair, his face was drawn and looked much older than his thirty-six years, and every muscle in his body was tense, as if he were anticipating attack at any moment.
"I don't think I could…do that."
Severus barked out a humourless laugh, "Oh, don't worry, Draco, you won't be bullied into becoming a spy. The last time I checked, Dumbledore was dead."
Draco considered this for a moment. "You killed him."
"Yes. Thank you for that astute observation, Draco." Severus' expression became closed.
"No, I mean, they all think that you've done this to prove your loyalty to the Dark Lord. You aren't a spy anymore."
"Weren't you listening?" Severus said, his tone scathing. "That's the point. For the rest of Albus' plans to work properly, the Dark Lord has to believe that I am entirely loyal to him."
"There's no way for me to get out, is there?" Draco's expression was grim.
"Short of throwing yourself into the mercy of Harry Potter, which we both know you would never agree to…no. I will, however, help you as much as I can."
"Thank you." Draco said earnestly.
Severus looked at the boy in front of him, the young, innocent boy who had no business being anywhere near this war and wished things could have been different. He wished desperately he'd known Draco's feelings on the subject of taking the Mark before it had happened. Perhaps he could have found a way to prevent it from happening.
He thanked his lucky stars (not that he had many) that Lucius had believed Occlumency was a necessary skill for any Slytherin to have and had asked Severus to teach Draco even before he'd started Hogwarts.
"Don't forget to Occlude this conversation." He reminded the blonde.
"Already done." Draco said, with a shrug. "It's not been hard to hide things from him in the past."
"Were they things as big as this?" Severus raised his eyebrows. "Things that could get you killed?"
"Yes, actually." Draco said, his face unreadable. "I highly doubt, considering his numerous rants on the subject, that the Dark Lord wants an army of queers."
Severus didn't seem surprised. "Have you told Lucius and Narcissa?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "There's a war on, Severus. I've got bigger things to worry about than coming out to my parents."
"That may be true, but you're also sixteen—
"Seventeen," Draco corrected, "My birthday was in June."
"I know. But seventeen is not so different from sixteen."
"I beg to differ. I'm of age now."
There was a pregnant pause as both considered the many implications of this.
"Do you have a boyfriend you've been hiding from the Dark Lord?" Severus arched an eyebrow, and Draco suspected he was teasing him.
"I'm not talking about this with you, Severus." Draco snapped, "Being gay doesn't make me a Hufflepuff, talking about my feelings right and left."
Severus snorted a laugh, "Thank Merlin for that. I'm not about to listen to you moan about unrequited love for days on end."
"As if I would ever do that." Draco sneered.
"No need to be so hostile."
"Fine, you want to know?" Draco snarled, "I've been bloody head over heels for someone since I was about twelve. But he doesn't even see me."
"Draco, I highly doubt that. The whole of Hogwarts sees you."
"Oh, really?" Draco scowled, "Do you? Do your eyes find me in the Great Hall, walking through corridors, across crowded classrooms? Can you sense the moment I've walked into a room or the void I leave behind when I leave it? Do you know my face as well as your own? Do you watch me?"
"I don't see how any of that is relevant."
"Because it's you, Severus."
They stared at each other for a long moment, and Severus seemed about to say something when he hissed in surprise instead and glared down at his forearm.
"Summons. Have you—
"No. I expect he's still too displeased with me to let me participate." Draco said flatly.
Severus gathered his robes and mask from the coat closet next to the kitchen.
"Be safe." Draco said as the Potions Master disappeared.
Severus returned hours later and went straight to the liquor cabinet. He took several swigs of Firewhiskey before realising Draco was curled up on the sofa, watching him with drowsy eyes.
"Okay?" He asked, yawning.
Severus only nodded. "He wanted to discuss you with me and Lucius."
"Oh."
"Lucius wants you back at the Manor."
"I suppose I'll go, then." Draco started to get up. "Convenient for you, eh? We'll never have to finish our conversation"
"I'm not done. Lucius wants you back, but the Dark Lord believes it will be in your best interests to remain with me until the school year begins. Narcissa will send you some clothes."
Draco had been making do with Severus' clothes, which were ill-fitting and uncomfortable.
"As for our earlier conversation—
"I don't want to hear it, Severus. I already know that you aren't interested, and even if you were, you'd say that it's inappropriate."
"You're only half right."
"Pardon?"
"Because it would be inappropriate, whether or not I am interested is irrelevant."
Draco shook his head, "You're so bloody cagey. Would it kill you to tell the whole truth, for once?"
"Possibly."
"Severus."
"Nothing can happen, Draco."
"Why not?"
"I'm old enough to be your father."
"I don't care. Next excuse."
"I'm your teacher."
"I have my doubts either of us will return to Hogwarts. Next."
"The Dark Lord."
"Aren't you tired of letting him dictate your life?"
"Yes. But that doesn't mean I can just do whatever I please."
"Or whomever, in this case." Draco smirked.
"This is not the time for jokes." Severus frowned.
"Severus, I'm worried about you." Draco said, seemingly changing the subject completely. "You're so controlled all the time; you keep people from getting close to you, from knowing your secrets. But I already know all your secrets; I already am close to you. Don't you want to be out of control; don't you want to remember how it feels to be in love and in lust and infatuated?" Draco had dropped his voice to a whisper and was slowly advancing on Severus.
He stopped when he was close enough to feel the heat radiating off of Severus' body, and could see the indecision in his eyes.
"Severus," Draco breathed, his breath ghosting across the other man's lips, causing him to shiver visibly.
Severus wasn't sure who initiated it (although he doubted it was himself), but suddenly Draco was in his arms and Draco's lips were pressed against his and their tongues were dancing together and one of Draco's hands was tangled in his hair and Severus tried to remember the last time he'd been kissed like this before realising the answer was never.
Draco smiled sleepily at the man next to him. Severus was on his side, his long hair covering his face, his arm thrown across Draco's body.
Draco reached over and gently brushed the soft, silky hair out of the Potions Master's face. Severus jerked awake almost instantly, his eyes wild and confused.
"It's okay," Draco whispered, "It's just me."
Severus snaked his other arm around Draco and pulled the smaller man closer. Draco buried his face in Severus' neck, inhaling the man's now-familiar scent.
"I haven't yet gotten accustomed to sharing." Severus said, his expression apologetic.
"That's okay." Draco pressed a kiss to Severus jaw, before nibbling lightly on his earlobe.
Severus growled and rolled so the younger man was pinned beneath him. Draco squirmed, his eyes dancing playfully. Severus captured the blonde's full lips, his tongue already exploring into the mouth it knew so well. Draco's hands ran over the smooth planes of Severus' back.
Severus lips broke from Draco's, trailing down to his neck. He nibbled and sucked at a spot below Draco's jaw, marking his territory, as it were. Draco's gasp delighted Severus to no end.
Severus knew that what they were doing was inappropriate (he was a friend of Draco's parents, for Merlin's sake) and irresponsible (there was only Occlumency preventing the Dark Lord from discovering them), but he just couldn't bring himself to care. In his years of teaching the Hogwarts dunderheads, he had forgotten how it felt to be liked, respected, appreciated…and he had never truly understood what it felt like to be loved.
He felt Draco's hands on his face and he looked into those bright eyes in surprise.
"You disappeared on me for a minute there," Draco looked concerned.
"I was just thinking that we shouldn't be doing this—
"Severus, we've already done this. What's the point in stopping now?!"
Severus placed a finger against Draco's lips, "Sssh. I wasn't finished yet. I was thinking that we shouldn't do this, that we're risking so much, but I don't care."
The smile that lit up Draco's face was one of the most beautiful things Severus had ever seen. Not that he'd say it aloud, he did still have an image to maintain.
That morning, their lovemaking was gentle and sweet and intense, rather than hurried, as it had been in the previous weeks.
In bed, with the younger man fitting perfectly in his arms, Severus acknowledged that it could not last and that was the one thing he did care about.
Darkness fell. From the confines of his frame, Dumbledore assessed the office that had once been his. Severus had changed nothing, out of stubbornness or solidarity, Dumbledore could not be sure. He watched sadly as Severus stormed into the office, slammed the door behind him, stomped around the desk and dropped into the chair, burying his face in his hands. He was muttering something, and while Dumbledore could not hear the exact words, he suspected he knew what all of this was about. Severus was a creature of habit. If he had just needed to punish one of the children harshly to save face in front of the Carrows, he would have gone straight to his liquor cabinet. Dumbledore had a feeling that this more likely had something to do with his former lover.
Dumbledore spoke to his successor's back, for the man would not turn around. "Severus, in times of war, the standard rules do not apply."
That got his attention and the new Headmaster jumped to his feet, sending the chair flying. He whirled around, his eyes dark with anger.
"The standard rules?" Severus snarled, "Tell me, then, what does the wartime rulebook say about a Headmaster fucking one of his students all over school property? What does it say about that Headmaster and his student being Death Eaters who will likely be killed by the Dark Lord if he discovers two of his followers are queers?"
Several of the other portraits gasped. They were, however, under charms so they could not discuss anything they heard within the Headmaster's office elsewhere.
"Severus," Dumbledore sighed heavily, "I simply meant that during a war, it is important to spend time with the people you love, rather than adhering so strictly to the rules of propriety."
Severus opened his mouth to protest, but the portrait silenced him with a knowing look. "We both know you love him, so don't even bother arguing with me, Severus."
"We can't, Albus. There's no safe place in this entire castle."
"I can think of a place. And so can you."
"Privacy." Severus said flatly, "Neither Draco nor I are interested in putting on a show for every single previous Headmaster or Headmistress."
"Severus, you continue to forget that as Headmaster, this office will do for you whatever you ask. You can send us all away to our other portraits; tell the gargoyles to admit no one, even with the correct password—
"I understand all of that, you ridiculous man." Severus snapped. "I just don't think it's very ethical to use this office for such a purpose."
"Ethical?" Phineas Nigellus barked, "What kind of Slytherin are you? And are you really so arrogant to think that you'd be the first of all of us to use it for some…privacy, I believe was how you put it."
Several of the other portraits agreed that Phineas had a point.
"Oh for Merlin's sake," Severus threw his hands up in defeat, "Go away. All of you."
"When would you like us to return?" Dumbledore asked archly.
"I'll let you know."
They stood in the Headmaster's office, a rather stunning picture. Draco's arms were around Severus' waist, Severus' hands cradling the younger man's face. Severus rested his forehead against Draco's, their noses just touching and their eyes locked in a seemingly eternal stare.
They looked like polar opposites: Severus tall and dark and his face betraying nothing, while Draco was smaller and lighter, his feelings written all over his face.
It was the first time the portraits had been permitted to stay, and the last time these men would meet in this office.
"I love you." Draco whispered. "I always have."
Severus was not one for grand displays of affection or emotion, but on the eve of battle, perhaps exceptions ought to be made. "I love you too." He whispered back, his eyes filling with something not even Draco could recognise, "I always will."
They kissed once more, before the simultaneous burning of their Marks pulled them apart.
The Shrieking Shack is dark and the smell of blood hangs in the air. It is deathly quiet for hours, until a single sound breaks through the heavy silence. It is the wail of a man who discovers his very heart ripped from his chest, his soul broken to pieces, until he no longer recognises himself.
Draco stood on Platform 9 and ¾, as Astoria said something encouraging to Scorpius. Draco had never loved the tiny, blonde, well-mannered woman, and he never would, but she was a good mother.
He made eye contact with Potter and inclined his head in acknowledgement. He could never quite forgive the man for saving his life. He no longer had his heart or his soul, and he was just waiting now for his body to fail him.
He watched as his son climbed onto the train and a thought struck him. He turned to his wife.
"Do you think they'll be friends?"
"Who, dearest?" They had been married nearly twenty years; she had grown accustomed to his long silences and seemingly disjointed questions and no longer expected anything else from him.
"Our son and Potter's."
"Oh, I highly doubt it."
Draco watched as Albus Severus Potter boarded the train just behind Scorpius Severus Malfoy and wasn't entirely sure he agreed with his wife.
Draco woke the morning of his fortieth birthday and knew immediately that something was different. Severus was standing in front of him, grinning like he never had during the seventeen years Draco had known him. There were other people standing behind Severus: Narcissa, his grandparents, Crabbe and Goyle, various people Draco couldn't remember but suspected they were probably Malfoy ancestors.
"I died." Draco said, suddenly understanding.
"Yes." Severus said.
"How?"
"In your sleep. It will be a total mystery to everyone, as you were in perfect health and the prime of your life."
"It isn't a mystery to me." Draco said, a smile spreading across his face.
"Oh?"
"You can only live so long without your heart and soul."
Severus chuckled at that and pulled Draco into his arms and after twenty-three years, the blonde man felt alive again.