Chapter Four
It was common knowledge that Lucius Malfoy wanted his son well-versed in the Dark Arts. Well, it was common knowledge among Slytherins, anyway, and it was also known that Lucius did not allow his son to slack off in that pursuit just because he was away at school. There was plenty that could be learned from books, which was why Draco was sitting against his headboard, a thick volume opened on his lap, reading about the various uses of unicorn blood.
What was not common, however, was someone daring to interrupt him. Draco sighed and looked up, glaring at Blaise through his loosely-gelled bangs. "What are you doing here?"
Blaise frowned, "It is my room, too, you know."
"Yes, and I told you stay out of it for the afternoon so that I could finish reading. My father is expecting me to owl him an essay on this chapter by Monday."
Blaise shrugged, "Then go to the library."
Draco lifted his head and raised an eyebrow, "And tell Madame Pince what? This isn't exactly school approved material."
"Hm, well, I only came down to let you know that Professor Snape is upstairs looking for you."
"Let him look. " He purposefully raised his voice so that it would carry up the narrow stairwell and into the common room. If the good Professor was looking for him, he'd have to put off reading, but he might as well irritate Snape while he was at it.
He bit back a grin at the reply that came bellowing down the stairs at him, "Draco Malfoy, I expect you up here in the next two minutes and bring trousers!" There was a pause while Draco and Blaise exchanged confused looks. What did Snape need with Draco's trousers? "And a silk tunic!"
Silk tunic? Well, at least if he were being interrupted, it sounded like it was going to be interesting. He shrugged at Blaise and opened his trunk, rummaging around for the spare clothes he'd brought with him. Not that he got the chance to wear much other than his school uniform, but it never hurt to be prepared.
Stalking up the stairs with his clothes in hand, he heard Blaise following behind him, but ignored him. He'd barely made it past the last step when Snape grabbed his arm and dragged him through the common room without a word. "I can walk on my own, you know!"
Snape didn't say anything, nor did he let go and Draco widened his stride to keep up with the Professor, trying not to stumble. Being dragged was so undignified. "I haven't done anything." It was even true, this time. He'd thought about doing something, but with exams coming up, he just hadn't had the time.
Draco silently chastised himself as he was thrust through Snape's open door. Exams were no excuse for giving the Griffindors a break in his quest to torment them almost daily. He'd have to come up with something and soon. Maybe he could get Pansy to help this time.
Snape motioned to the door leading into his bedroom and Draco bit back a snarky remark as he stepped through the door... and stopped dead in his tracks, unable to form a coherent thought. Sitting on Snape's bed was a boy, probably Draco's age, maybe a year or two younger. He had nearly black hair, cut short and in sleepy disarray, his eyes were a stunning green. It was hard to tell height, but Draco would say they were probably about the same. An overly large shirt swamped the boy's upper body, falling off one shoulder, but Draco could see the thin, pale legs, bent back with feet on either side of his hips.
Oh, my. The snarky remark Draco had been holding back fell from his mouth before he could stop it. "Why, Snape, you kinky bastard. I never knew you had it in you. Although, it looks like I'm out five galleons. I was so sure you were celibate, too."
A hand smacked him upside the head and he turned to face Snape's glower with an incredulously raised upper lip. "What?!"
"Do you have no respect?"
"I have respect for my betters." He dodged the hand aimed at his head again, "Stop that, you'll mess up my hair."
Snape crossed his arms over his chest and motioned to the still silent boy kneeling on the bed. Draco looked between the two of them and, with a belabored sigh, went to the bed and held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Draco Malfoy."
The boy smiled brightly, but made no attempt to take Draco's hand. "I'm Tom's pet."
Draco's hand faltered, "You what?"
Snape stepped forward, pointing an angry finger at smiling boy, "You will keep that to yourself." Turning back to Draco, Snape pretended to ignore the boy who was laying himself out on his stomach on Snape's bed, crossing his ankles with his feet in the air. "That is Harry. He needs to be... cleaned up and he'll need to borrow your clothes."
Draco's eyes continued to move between the two, noting that while Snape wasn't looking at Harry, his lip twitched when Harry said, "I don't need them. They itch."
Snape's only response was to make none, staring intently at Draco as if he were the room's only other occupant. Harry's shirt had rucked up around his waist when he laid down and Draco not help but stare at the small leather shorts stretched tightly over the boy's arse. Looking back at Snape, Draco forced a frown onto his face, because that was far more dignified than shock. "Why can't you do it?"
"I have things I need to do, Draco, and unless you want me to revoke my offer for apprenticeship, you will do as I say."
Bugger. He had him there. Draco had swallowed what little pride he had and gone to Dumbledore at the beginning of the year, asking for sanctuary, because anyway Draco looked at it, he wanted to live, and something told him that wasn't nearly as likely to happen if he were working for the Dark Lord. Perhaps it had to do with all the nights his father had come home bloody and only half alive, but that was neither here nor there. What was important was that Draco had asked for sanctuary and Dumbledore had given it to him in the form of an apprenticeship to Snape that would keep Draco at Hogwarts with the Professor year round.
Not to say that Draco wasn't grateful and it wasn't even that he didn't like the idea of taking up potions as a profession, it was the idea that he was going to be stuck in this castle for the foreseeable future, chained to a man whose idea of a good time was dicing shrivel figs and harvesting Newt's eyes. Still, it wasn't all bad. He knew Snape was a spy and sometimes it was a laugh to poke fun about it, let things slip that were harmless unless you knew and watch Snape's face twist in anger.
However, fun of tormenting Snape aside, he wasn't willing to risk his tenuous safety. "Fine, I'll clean him up'."
"See that you do and don't let him out of your sights."
Before Draco could get in a last word, Snape turned around and marched out of his chambers, billowy robes and all. Draco huffed, "That is so like him."
He turned around and found himself with his nose less than two inches from Harry's. Harry appeared to be studying him, looking at his features with intense concentration. After a moment, he sat back on his legs and his smile was back, just as bright as before. "You look like Mister Malfoy."
Draco nearly took a step back in surprise, "You know my father? "
Harry nodded happily and Draco furrowed his brows. Where did someone like Lucius Malfoy meet someone like Harry? Oh. He took in the leather shorts and the long legs and the black collar around the throat. He'd been too busy staring at Harry's arse to notice earlier, but there were thick cuffs on his ankles and wrists, as well. Oh, please say his father wasn't visiting underground whore houses or something and having sex with boys Draco's age. Not only was that a mental image Draco could do without, it was low class.
Suddenly, Draco didn't feel the need to push the issue. He started for the bathroom door, opening the door for Harry. "Come on, you'll need a bath."
Harry crawled off the bed and Draco tried not to notice how he moved, like a house cat, stretching his legs off the bed, one after the other and pulling his arms over his head, tilting his chin back. Really, there just wasn't enough fabric to make those shorts decent.
As he relaxed, Harry caught Draco looking away and smiled. He'd never been around other boys his own age. Come to that, he'd never been around anyone his own age, but Harry thought Draco was funny. He talked back to Mister Severus and he kept staring at Harry before turning abruptly away.
The bathroom was bigger than Master's, with large, beige tiles on the floor and walls, and a vanity and sink made of black marble. Silver candle holders were attached to the wall on either side of a large mirror, lighting the room far brighter than it should have been. The bathing tub caught Harry's eye and they went big. It was huge, easily able to fit three people.
Draco reached past Harry and turned the water on. "Go on, get in."
Harry thankfully shucked the shirt and noticed that Draco's eyes, which had been in the process of averting themselves again, locked on Harry's chest, staring. Harry followed the gaze, looking down, but he couldn't see anything wrong. Finally, he looked back up. "What?
Draco shook his head and seemed to tear his gaze from whatever it was he found so interesting. "Nothing."
Shrugging, Harry unbuttoned his shorts and pulled them off, stepping into the water. Draco cut him a glance, "Don't you want take those off?"
"Take what off?" Draco gestured to Harry's wrists and he looked at the leather cuffs, realization coming to him. "They're water proof."
Sinking down into warm water, Harry sat still as it rose around him, almost unnaturally fast. Draco sat on a stool in front of the vanity, still fully clothed. When the water was up to his chest, Draco stood up and turned off the tap, kneeling next to the tub. Harry frowned, "Aren't you getting in?"
"Huh?"
"Well, don't you need a bath?"
For a minute Draco looked offended, then he chuckled. "No, Harry, I don't bathe with other boys." Thank Merlin for separate showers in Slytherin.
Harry opened his mouth to ask why, but Draco put his hand on Harry's head and pushed in under the water. He was let up just as quickly and saw Draco holding a bottle. "I'm assuming you know how to bathe yourself."
Taking the bottle, Harry nodded and thumbed it open. It smelled like lavender. "So, why don't you take bathes with other boys?"
Draco sat back and traced an imaginary pattern in the textured wall with his eyes. "Well, for one, I like boys."
"I like boys, too. I wouldn't mind bathing with you."
He wasn't really sure what he expected to see when he looked over at Harry - maybe a mischievous grin or a seductively raised eyebrow - but there only honestly and a kind of innocence that made Draco feel a little uncomfortable with his stiffened penis. "Not like boy', as in I want to hang out with them. I like boys as in, I get... excited when I see them naked."
That Harry seemed to understand. He perked up and dropped his hands from where they were lathering the soap into his hair. "Do I get you excited?"
Draco just managed to grab Harry and shove him back under the water before Harry could look over the rim of the tub at Draco's crotch. Getting up, Draco handed the sputtering Harry the soap. "Scrub off."
Cleaned up was a vague instruction, but Draco decided that if he was going to do it, he might as well do it right. Despite appearances, Snape was actually very hygienic. In fact, the two hours that Draco had spent with him discussing his apprenticeship, he'd seen him wash his hands five times. It had something to do with not spreading the secretion of one ingredient to the next, but Draco hadn't been paying enough attention to remember exactly what it was Snape had said.
Looking through the drawers, Draco managed to produce a comb, deodorant, and a toothbrush. He'd considered the toothbrush for a while, because there hadn't been a spare, but in the end, he decided that letting Harry use Snape's toothbrush was punishment for making Draco do this in the first place.
By the time he finished, Harry had toweled himself off and was reaching for his shorts. Draco stopped him. "Don't. Wrap the towel around your waist and sit down."
He half expected a fight about that, but Harry was compliant as a house elf, dropping the shorts, tucking the towel around himself and sitting, straight backed and waiting, on the little stool in front of the mirror. Draco ran a comb through the wet, tangled hair, trying to imagine who this was and what he was doing in Snape's quarters.
Even if he hadn't known that Snape was working for Dumbledore, Draco knew that nothing got past the old codger. If Harry was here, Dumbledore both knew and approved of his presence. Either that, or there hadn't been any other option, but Draco doubted that. So, it stood to reason that Harry wasn't here for Snape's sexual gratification - thank Merlin for that as well, because he hated losing, even when he could afford it.
Up until now, Harry had been amiable enough and Draco decided to push his luck. He caught Harry's eye in the mirror. "What's with the domination gear?"
"The what?"
"The cuffs and the collar."
"Oh." Harry held his wrists up and smiled fondly down at the leather. "They were a present, from Ma... from Tom."
Draco heard the falter in Harry's words, but decided against pointing it out. He'd bring it up later when Harry wasn't naked and Draco wasn't trying to pretend he wasn't aroused by it. "Someone gave you a collar?"
Harry practically beamed as he nodded, but didn't say anything further.
"Isn't it... uncomfortable?"
Harry shrugged, still running his fingers over the leather band around his neck. "No. It feels odd when I take them off, though. Like I'm exposed."
Draco gave up trying to get the hair to stay down and handed Harry the tooth brush, stepping back. "Go ahead, I'll be in the other room." Watching someone bathe was one thing, watching them spit was another and, despite Snape's admonition to not let Harry out his sight, Draco was not going to sit around watch Harry brush his teeth.
He'd retrieved his clothes from the living room and laid them out on the bed. Draco wasn't sure what to make of Harry. Perhaps Harry was mentally slow, or something. Like he'd been tortured by Death Eaters until he'd gone insane. It would explain why he was here and why Snape didn't want Draco letting him out of his sight and where Harry knew his father from, but Harry didn't act like the victim of torture. Draco had seen people who went through that kind of thing and they were usually skittish around people, constantly nervous. For all that he was odd, Harry was perfectly at ease with Draco and his surroundings.
"Are those for me?" Draco looked up to see Harry pointing at the clothes on the bed and nodded numbly, trying not to notice the undefined musculature of Harry's chest, or the way his damp hair fell just over his lashes. "Do I have to?"
Definitely mentally slow, which should have made Draco's arousal seem somehow wrong, but Draco was too busy wondering why anyone would pout over having to wear clothes. "Yes."
Harry's shoulders slumped, but the picked up the trousers, preparing to pull them on. Draco stopped him, "Wait, where's your... pants?"
"Pants?"
"You know, underwear." Harry shook his head and for a moment, Draco shook his back before the meaning settled in. "You don't have any."
It wasn't a question, but Harry shook his head again, anyway. There were only three options here. He could go back to Slytherin and get a pair of his own, he could give Harry a pair of Snape's to wear, or, he could let Harry go without. As much as he'd figured stepping out of the room was okay, he didn't think leaving Harry along in Snape's quarters while he went to fetch something from Slytherin was going to please Snape. The third option was appealing, but the second would piss Snape at least as much as the toothbrush thing.
Ever since he'd found out Snape was a spy, Draco had taken great delight in pissing Snape off, because no matter what Draco did or said, Snape had to continue to treat him like his favorite student when others were around and a vast majority of the time, there were others around. So, it was amusing to watch Snape smile tightly at him and tell him what a good job he was doing when they both knew very well that Snape had seen Draco put the firecracker in Weasley's cauldron.
It was stupid, perhaps. Draco, more than anyone in Slytherin, knew how dangerous an angery Severus Snape was. He'd grown up with the man visit his home at least once a month, usually more. So, in an effort not to get himself killed, he usually went to great pains to make sure he was not there when Snape found out he'd done something, or if he was, that he was with someone Snape had to keep up appearances in front of.
Draco wasn't sure if Harry fell into that category, though he doubted it. Still, it wasn't like Snape was going to be checking Harry's underpants. Finally coming to a decision, he went to Snape's dresser and opened the top drawer. Oh, it would figure, every pair were black and they were folded in rectangles of exactly the same size and spaced apart exactly the same width.
Pulling out some, he held them out to Harry. "Put these one first."
Harry didn't argue further, though the distaste was clear enough as he dragged them on, followed by the trousers and then the silk shirt. It took Draco several minutes to convince Harry to take off the ankle cuffs, but attempts to remove the ones on his wrists or the collar were met with firm resistance. Still, it was an improvement. Even with the bare feet, Harry would have looked almost regal if he had just stopped fidgeting.
Snape still hadn't returned and Draco decided that, in light of do not let him out of your sights,' he'd better stay until he returned.
Harry followed Draco into the other room and positioned himself on the floor next to the sofa when Draco sat down with a book. Master only ever let Mister Malfoy, Lady Narcissa, Lady Lestrange, Mister Lestrange, and Mister Pettigrew in. Well, not so much Mister Pettigrew anymore. He'd had Tibby to play with, but she'd always come and gone frequently, becaue she had to take care of the rest of the house. Harry supposed it must be a big house, because it took her a lot of time. Although, he figured that Hogwarts must be larger, because Severus had two full rooms and a giant bathroom, just for himself. Master had only had the one room for the two of them and even though Severus' was bigger, he preferred Master's bathroom because of the large window that overlooked the backyard.
Harry snuck a glance up at Draco. He'd seen him before, but from that distance he'd never really noticed how much Draco looked like Mister Malfoy. He had noticed how much he acted like him, though. Draco kept distance between himself and the other children, especially those younger than him and he followed close at Mister Malfoy's heals, purposefully matching his father's strides.
He'd always thought Draco looked self-important. Now, watching him up close, he realized Draco just looked bored. While Mister Malfoy had always had a stern, contemplative expression, like he was thinking about something very important; Draco just looked like he was trying to look like that. Right now, for instance, by all appearances he was reading a book, but Harry hadn't seen his eyes move the entire time.
"Draco, I'm bored."
"Good for you." Draco didn't look up, just flipping the page and raised an eyebrow at whatever it was he saw. Harry tried to look, but Draco closed the book over his finger and gave Harry a stern look, so Harry sat back down.
This was worse than when Master had punished him by locking all his toys away for a week. He fell back onto the floor and stared at the textured ceiling, trying to make out a pattern. There was a goat with an angry scowl, if he looked hard enough. A smile started to creep onto his face. It would figure that Mister Severus would have an angry goat on his ceiling, because Mister Severus appeared to be angry a lot of the time.
Of course, Harry wasn't fooled by it. He'd seen Master get angry at people before, only to later tell Harry that he was merely frustrated and not to concern himself. Harry figured that if Mister Severus really was a spy, then he had a lot to be frustrated about. Closing his eyes, Harry saw Severus' face from last night, his eyes filled with a kind of deep sadness that hurt to look at.
"Why didn't you take me back if he was going to punish you?"
"Because no one should have to live as a pet."
Last night, when Mister Severus had said that, something in Harry's stomach had fluttered. It had felt like he was nervous, but not, and he'd never felt anything like that before. When he'd woken up in the middle of the night, frightened by new surroundings and uncertain of what he was expected to do, he had crawled into bed with Mister Severus, even though it was against the rules, and the fluttering had gotten better.
When he closed his eyes, he could hear Mister Severus' voice saying his name, calling him Harry' and the fluttering came back. It confused him.
He'd read a romance book once. Lady Narcissa had left it there by accident when she had been watching him and he remembered the characters blithering on about love and butterflies and wanting each other so badly it hurt. Harry had thought that was a bit ridiculous. He loved Master, he respected Master, Master kept him safe and cared for, but he didn't get nervous around him, he didn't need to touch him. It was enough to simply have him there.
He'd known Severus less than twenty -our hours and as absurd as it was, he thought maybe he kind of understood what those books were talking about. The fluttering in his stomach was a lot like butterflies.
"Draco?" He didn't wait for a response this time. "Do you like Mister Severus?"
Draco shrugged, turning another page in the book. "I suppose. He's an arse most of the time, but he's never outright mean."
Harry sighed deeply, "No, I mean, like him as in..." How was it Draco had said this earlier? "Does he excite you?"
Draco's body went cold and the book slipped from his fingers, landing in his lap with a rustle of pages that meant he'd lost his place. Not that it mattered, since he hadn't actually been reading it. "Do I, what?"
Harry sat up, his arms behind him, his palms flat against the carpet. "You said that you didn't take baths with other boys because they excite you. Does Mister Severus excite you?"
"Of course not." Draco picked the book back up, trying to gather his thoughts. "He's as old as my father and, besides, he's not my type."
"Type?"
"Yes, type. Everyone has a type. For example, I like boys my own age. Ones that are handsome, or even pretty works. I do not like older men with greasy hair and pallid skin."
"Oh." Harry laid back down, his eyebrow's creased together and his mouth turned down in a frown.
"What do you mean, oh'?"
Harry only shrugged and Draco was about to force an answer from him, because the idea that anyone would think he liked Snape was... well, disturbing at best. Before he could say anything, the door opened and Draco immediately went back to pretending he was reading.
Severus stood in the doorway for several moments, trying to decide why Draco was reading a book on aphrodisiac potions written in ancient Gaelic. He hadn't been aware Draco could read common Gaelic, let alone the older varieties. Then again, knowing Draco, he probably couldn't.
He was about to make a comment about how he hadn't realized Draco needed aphrodisiacs to get women to sleep with him, when Harry sat up and looked over Draco's arm. His eyes lit up and Severus had just enough time to think that couldn't be a good thing, before Harry pointed to something in the book, saying, "I've done that one!"
Draco's gaze went immediately from the book to Harry and then back to the book again, his pale cheeks going pink. Slamming the book shut, Draco tossed it carelessly onto the coffee table, standing up with a pursed smile. "Well, that's my cue. Later, Harry."
Severus wanted to stop Draco, it should have been his natural instinct to grab the boy as he brushed past and demand to know exactly what it was Harry had done, but the thought that Harry had done anything depicted in that book had made his brain momentarily switch off. By the time he managed to gather his thoughts, Draco was long gone and Severus was alone in the room with a boy who looked thoroughly confused as to why everyone would be shocked by his proclamation.
Without a word, Severus backed out and shut the door behind him. He couldn't do this. He had no idea how to proceed from here. He needed help. He needed Albus Dumbledore.
-tbc-
