~ Chapter Thirty-Seven ~
The trek upstairs was painfully slow, and involved Harry and the twins pausing every five steps or so to let Harry catch his breath in order to prevent the loud wheezing from coming back. Charlie, meanwhile, was constantly spelling a small patch of the floor on all sides of the three younger men to silence their footfalls and stop any creaking.
When they finally made it up to the room, Charlie leaned in close and whispered so quietly it was hardly more than a puff of air,
"I'm going to put silencing charms on the bathroom so mum doesn't wake up, then start the water so it gets warm. I'll be back to help you into the shower." Without waiting for a response, he crept down the hall and the twins steered Harry into the room. Not bothering to close the door (no one else was awake yet, and they didn't want to risk any unnecessary noise), Fred and George hesitantly began to maneuver the smaller boy out of his grimy outer clothing and down to his boxers. With each item, they would pass his weight gently over to the other before making sure to catch Harry's eye and give him the chance to object before they helped him wriggle out of another article of clothing.
Harry usually dreaded being undressed with an audience. Even during Quidditch games he kept on a thin, muggle t-shirt under his match robes so that no one saw his scars in the locker room. The twins, though, like Charlie, had already seen him at his most battered and hadn't judged him.
Harry sighed happily as George finished peeling off his socks and stood back up to press against his side, mirroring Fred in the other direction and effectively sandwiching him between a warm wall of Weasley and cutting off the tremors of cold before they could really take hold. The three of them had only been standing that way for a few seconds when Charlie appeared around the corner, and Harry felt his mouth grow dry. Even if he was far too tired to actually consider acting on his desire, he could certainly still look.
Charlie was barefoot and topless, worn jeans slung dangerously low on his hips without his belt there to hold them higher in place. Before he had time to fully drink in the view, Fred and George were stepping away and Charlie was tenderly lifting him off the ground, muscles in his arms bulging as he turned to carry his bondmate across the hall. Harry hummed happily as their skin pressed together all over and he was supported easily by the red-head's solid strength. He felt the smallest rumble of laughter where his side pressed snug against Charlie's chest, and grinned sheepishly.
Charlie somehow managed to pull the bathroom door shut behind them without letting go, and then walked straight into the shower, jeans and all. He carefully lowered Harry to his feet but kept one arm around him at all times, his back pulled securely against Charlie's chest to help keep him upright. The hot spray of the shower felt glorious against his aching muscles and, remembering Charlie's promise of silencing charms, he moaned quietly. They stood like that for several minutes, the warm water and steam combined with Charlie's steady heartbeat and the even rise and fall of his chest nearly lulling Harry to sleep on his feet.
It took him a moment to register that the sweet smell and gentle massaging feeling by his temples was Charlie smoothing shampoo onto his head. As the soap was washed out of his hair and swirled down his body in little rivulets, Harry was amazed at how much difference it made to have the sweat and grime of the long night washing away down the drain.
His hair clean, Charlie lathered more soap onto his hands and rubbed slippery circles onto Harry's chest and stomach and down his arms. The younger man felt a stir of interest and could feel from where Charlie was pressed snug behind him that the other man was feeling similarly, but his touches never sought anything more than to help his bondmate get clean.
At the red-head's murmured instructions, Harry leaned forward and rested his head down onto his arms where they pressed against the back of the shower, holding him upright. Charlie's hands smoothed their way down Harry's back, skipping over the area covered by the now soaking wet and skin-tight boxers to quickly wipe down his legs before he stood up and took Harry into his arms once more, helping him to rinse off.
Charlie stepped back out of the shower, carefully pulling Harry with him and spelling his boxers dry before wrapping him in big, fluffy towel. Harry was glad Charlie hadn't spelled his entire body dry; it always left his skin feeling tight and itchy. Besides, he was basking in the novel feeling of being cared for and pampered. Harry turned slightly to press his ear over his bondmate's calm heartbeat and watched in interest as the door cracked open and a perfect little bubble floated out after a nudge of Charlie's wand before two strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, Charlie's chin coming down to rest on the top of his head.
The twins appeared a moment later, and Harry realized the bubble had been a signal that he was out of the shower. He felt himself being passed over to the twins, feeling a little silly that he could hardly get his own legs to move let alone hold his weight, but unable to really get upset over it when the three men around him were smiling so genuinely down at him and constantly reassuring him with hugs and other gentle touches.
He managed to peak back at Charlie one last time, and had to bite his lip to stop from sniggering. The red-head must have seen the laughter dancing in his eyes, however, because he frowned puzzled before looking down at himself and snorting out a laugh as he rolled his eyes and shook his head. There were splotches of suds all down his stomach and jeans, which were clinging to him oddly and dripping in a vaguely pathetic, soggy-puppy sort of way. Harry snickered quietly and let Fred and George help him back to the bedroom as Charlie went to take a proper shower of his own.
xXxXxXxXx
When Charlie emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed in dry clothing once again, he couldn't help but pause in the doorway to grin at the three young men inside. Fred was sitting up in Harry's bed, leaning back against the headboard and looking down to where his hand was brushing through Harry's messy, damp hair, the smaller man falling asleep with his head pillowed in the red-head's lap and his hand intertwined with Ana's coiled body on the covers beside him. The pillows that usually lay at the head of the bed were now cradling his sore arms at his sides. George was across the room, just finishing straightening up Fred's bed when Charlie arrived. He reached out and tugged Charlie over, gently pushing his brother into the bed and pulling the covers over him.
There was a soft whimper and murmur from Harry and Charlie immediately forced his drooping eyes open and tried to sit back up, but George placed a hand on his chest holding him down and shifted so they could both look back to the other pair. Fred was now leaning over the smaller man, muttering softly to his friend and brushing his thumbs soothingly over Harry's shoulders while the younger man nodded slowly up at him and finally gave him a crooked smile.
Charlie relaxed back onto his own mattress, knowing he could trust the twins to look after Harry while he recovered, and that he himself wouldn't be much good to his bondmate until he had gotten some rest.
"We didn't ask him much," George whispered, eyes still on the raven-haired young man as well. "He'd have to repeat it all for Sirius tomorrow anyway, so we'll all just get the story then. He needs the sleep; looks like you both do," he added, finally looking back at his brother with a soft grin. "We did ask if he was injured at all, just in case. He said no, just incredibly sore. Says he's grateful to Moody for the training though." Charlie looked up at him sharply at the mention of Alastor, and George grinned smugly. "Order of the Dragon membership is up to five," he said simply, with a pleased waggle of his eyebrows that should have looked utterly ridiculous, except this was George. He squeezed Charlie's arm gently then moved over to the others.
The twins seemed to hesitate a moment before coming to some sort of silent agreement in usual Gred-and-Forge fashion. Fred's free hand reached out and wrapped around the back of George's neck where he was standing next to the bed and tugged gently until their lips met in a slow, sweet embrace. It went no further, but Charlie glanced down to Harry anyway, worried he might be uncomfortable seeing the two brothers kiss. He needn't have been concerned; Harry was grinning up at them, eyes dancing with merriment as they had when he was trying not to laugh at Charlie after the shower.
"I should get back, before Ron or mum wake up and cause a scene," George said shyly. "G'night!" With that, he slipped from the room. Charlie lifted his wand up to dim the lights, and caught his bondmate's eyes as he did so.
"Goodnight, Char," Harry whispered, eyes drifting shut once more before he had even gotten a response. Charlie grinned and let the lights fade out entirely.
"Goodnight baby," he answered around a wide yawn, not pausing to think through his words before he was out, head barely even hitting the pillow before he was sound asleep.
No one saw where Fred's eyes widened in the darkness and began to sparkle as he grinned mischievously.
xXxXxXxXx
Fred groaned happily as George's steady fingers dug into his stiff, cramped neck and shoulders, massaging out the kinks and tension. Fred had fallen back asleep sitting at the head of Harry's bed, and woke up a few hours later to a sore neck and two numb legs (they had lost feeling under the weight of Harry's head pillowed on his lap). George chuckled behind him, leaning forward to brush a feather-light kiss behind his ear.
"Rough night old man?" George teased, and when Fred just nodded and whimpered rather than snarking back, George leaned forward and began trailing soothing kisses across the top of Fred's spine. "Awww, poor baby," he whispered, words humming against the warm skin beneath his lips, his teasing tone much more tender and concerned than before.
At the quiet endearment, Fred suddenly sat bolt upright and spun to face his brother, grinning broadly.
"Merlin, I almost forgot!"
"Ow," George answered, scowling and rubbing his nose where his twin's shoulder had jammed against it. "Forgot what?" he snapped, rather put out that his affectionate attention had been brushed aside so easily. Fred reached out to move the hand away and leaned in to peck a quick kiss to the tip of George's nose in apology.
"No pouting," he chided playfully, his twin's hand still held loosely in his own.
"Fine, fine," George sighed, the twitch in his lips as he fought back a grin shattering his harried act. "What's your big news then?"
"I think Charlie and Harry are together!" Fred announced, smiling triumphantly at the news. George blinked slowly a few times, and then finally answered as though speaking to someone with particularly slow mental functioning.
"Yeeesssss, they are married, Fred, well spotted."
"No, I know that, I meant like together, together. Like, Charlie calling Harry 'baby' as if it's the most normal thing in the world, together." George's eyebrows rose until they disappeared behind fiery red bangs, grin slowly growing to match his twin's.
"Well well well, looks like the maurauders—"
"—and junior maurauders!—" Fred couldn't help cutting in, still glowing proudly inside every time he thought of what Lupin had called them the day he revealed who Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs had been.
"—yes, and junior maurauders, won't have to play matchmakers after all!" Fred started to nod his agreement, then stopped and winced when the movement pulled at his still sensitive neck. Frowning, George took out his wand and began summoning pillows and extra blankets from around the room, stacking them against the headboard so that he could push his brother back against a wall of soft, cushiony support.
That morning, as they had most days since their mother had separated them into different rooms, they were spending a couple of hours hidden away in Sirius' bedroom. He made a point of finding and greeting them as soon as he was up in the mornings, and not returning to his room until he saw them again. They had a silent understanding that he would look the other way and claim ignorance when Molly tried to track the twins down each day. Fred and George simply needed a little time to be GredandForge. If Sirius was at all worried about what they might get up to left alone and unsupervised in the large, plush bedroom, he never said.
Truth be told, they had not done more than cuddle and kiss since the morning the journals had been made. As Fred allowed himself to be pressed back against the mound of pillows and watched George gaze hungrily at his exposed upper body, he thought it might be time to change that.
"Come here," he whispered huskily, pleased at the way George's eyes darkened when they snapped up to meet his before his twin crawled forward to straddle Fred's hips and run his palms gently down the bare chest in front of him. Fred's breath hitched when nimble fingers trailed lightly over his nipples, feeling them begin to harden in interest even before George brought his thumbs up to circle the nubs playfully, tongue darting out to wet his lips while he watched his own hands in concentration.
"Mmmm, Georggge…" Fred moaned out, basking in the sensual attention. His twin shuddered slightly in his lap, clearly affected by the deep, sexual tone of his brother's voice. Then he was sliding backwards off of Fred's lap, hands leaving nipples, and Fred opened his mouth to complain—
—but cut himself off with a quick gasp when George instead reached out to unbutton his jeans and grab the zipper, eyes meeting Fred's uncertainly as he started to pull it down. Fred wasn't sure what exactly the question was he saw in George's eyes, but nodded his head frantically, sure that whatever it was he wanted it to happen. George relaxed at the permission, and suddenly the heated look was back in his eyes and all his focus went to removing Fred's pants entirely, followed almost immediately by his boxers, leaving him half-hard and naked, propped up against the headboard.
George shuffled back a few foot, kneeling up on the mattress and reaching for the hem of his own shirt.
"Yeah?" He questioned uncertainly, chewing his bottom lip between his teeth in an unintentionally sexy way.
"Merlin, please!" Fred managed to whisper, watching greedily as George took off his own clothing one piece at a time until he, too, was bare.
By the time George crawled back forward and straddled Fred's long legs once more, both boys were fully hard and their breathing had quickened. Hands began to glide over newly revealed skin and lips and tongues melded together. George never hesitated in pressing himself fully forward, bringing their erections sliding together and causing them to groan simultaneously into the kiss.
After a few minutes of this, George managed to pull back and slid off of Fred once again. Fred whimpered at the loss, but almost immediately it turned into a sharp cry of pleasure as George bent down and took his twin's leaking erection into his mouth with no warning.
"FuckshitMerlinfuckGeorge!" Fred hissed out, hands scrambling for purchase in the soft duvet as he stared wide-eyed at where he was disappearing over and over between his twin's lips. George, for his part, simply moaned hungrily and allowed his eyes to flutter closed. He had imagined doing this so many times, gotten himself off to the image in the shower or hidden behind silencing charms in his bed at Hogwarts, but nothing had prepared him for the reality: The hot, heavy weight of his brother on his tongue, the smooth glide of soft skin over his steely hard length, the salty beads of precum leaking out of the spongy head and filling his mouth with a flavor that was so wonderfully Fred.
"Come here, baby—fuck—sweetheart please, I need to touch you…" George only half-heard his brother's desperate pleas and couldn't be bothered to open his eyes or slow his attention to Fred's straining need. Luckily, the other red-head had taken things into his own hands and was shifting George around until he was on his hands and knees pressed side-to-side with his twin, feet pressed into the stack of pillows at the head of the bed and head still bobbing hungrily in Fred's lap.
George didn't hear Fred scrambling for his wand or casting a lubrication charm on his own hand, but certainly felt when said hand wrapped snuggly around his own aching length pulled, dragging a series of whimpering groans from deep in his chest.
They continued this way for several minutes, Fred's slick hand exploring all over George's cock and balls. George only paused when a slick finger slowly slid further back and came to rest over his puckered entrance. Slowly sliding off of the straining erection before him, he looked over his shoulder to find Fred watching him intensely, pupils blown wide in arousal. The finger hadn't moved, and George realized his twin was waiting for permission. With a hitching breath he nodded once, sharply, and kept his eyes locked on his brother's face as Fred turned his own gaze down to his finger and circled it slowly a few times before ever-so-carefully sliding inside the entrance to his second knuckle.
"Merlin, you're so hot and tight and—fuck, baby, don't make me stop." Fred's words came out in a heated rush and George flushed, feeling more attractive and desirable than he ever had. With a throaty "Fuck" of his own, he lowered his sweaty forehead down to rest against his arms, arched his back to jut his hips out higher and pressed backwards, bringing Fred's finger sliding fully inside him. They moaned together, and Fred began a slow but steady pace of leisurely dragging his finger out until just the tip remained clenched in the tight circle of muscles before sinking forward once again. When George began to push his hips back insistently, Fred paused and murmured something that his twin couldn't hear before two, freshly lubed fingers carefully pressed against and into his entrance.
"Yesfuckpleaseyes—Fred, love, I want you so bad…" Fred groaned at his brother's words and arched his own hips off the bed, pressing the tip of his length against his twin's cheek unintentionally. George, suddenly remembering what he had been doing before Fred had pulled his attention away, turned his head and lowered his lips down to the base of his brother's length in one smooth movement.
"Bloody hell!" Fred cried, and George whined happily as Fred's two fingers plunged deep inside him with the sudden shock of sensations.
For several minutes afterwards, Fred worked George up to a quick pace, adding a third finger and groaning at the tight fit, all the while rasping out dirty endearments and encouragement that had George bucking desperately back against his hand. George, for his part, worked his mouth and tongue wickedly over his brother, taking pleasure in finding all the spots that would cause his twin to gasp and lose his words.
"…George you're so gorgeous, so hot, pulling my fingers inside of you and pushing yourself back so my hand buries—fuck, right there, just like that, ohMerlin—can't believe you're mine, so lucky, can't believe I'm inside of you, fuck…"
George's heart clenched and the growing need to have more-something-closer-more with his twin became overwhelming. Lapping his tongue one more time at the steadily leaking tip of Fred's cock, he leaned up then pulled slowly away from his brother, Fred's fingers slipping free and leaving him feeling terribly empty.
"George, wha…" Fred trailed off and his eyes grew impossibly round as George crawled over him, kissing him desperately and sliding back on his lap so Fred's length pressed against the cleft of George's arse. "Baby… are you sure? Absolutely positive you want to do this?"
Fred's hands were framing his face, eyes shining with love and awe as he met George's own. George didn't even notice the slick trail of lube against one cheek, instead leaning forward to seal his lips over his twin's in a deep kiss while he reached around to guide Fred inside of him for the very first time, finally becoming one with his brother physically, just as they had always been in heart and mind…
xXxXxXxXx
Harry caught Charlie's eye across the kitchen table and sighed down at his scrambled eggs, forcing himself to scoop up another forkful and chew tastelessly. With his bondmate's patient assistance, Harry had slowly and stiffly made his way downstairs for breakfast nearly an hour ago now, only to be met by Sirius in the kitchen doorway and told quickly to bring Charlie and meet him in Buckbeak's room as soon as he finished eating. Harry had planned on grabbing a piece of fruit and some toast and taking off right away, but Molly, it seemed, had other plans.
"Harry dear! How good to see y—Charlie? What are you doing here?"
"'Morning mum," Charlie answered smoothly, doing his best to ignore the suspicion and slight accusation he heard in his mother's voice as her eyes darted between him and Harry. "I came in with dad late last night, we were—"
"Last night? But where did you stay? Alastor is in Bill's room, he must have stayed after his guard shift, so I know you weren't there…"
"I crashed with Fred," Charlie cut in, pointedly nudging Harry aside so that he was blocked from Mrs. Weasley's direct gaze; the dark-haired man seemed to finally realize that Molly was worried Charlie was trying to take advantage of him, and Harry's eyes had narrowed dangerously in her direction.
"With Fred? In Harry's room?! Really Charlie, I hardly think that appropriate; what will people think if the two of you start sharing a room? No, that just won't do… not to worry dear," she added quickly, turning to Harry with a matronly smile. "I'll have the children start decontaminating another bedroom this very morning. There's a small one I've had my eye on, right down by mine and Arthur's room, and just across from Ginny. I know you're used to your own space, I'm sure you'll be more comfortable there, then Charlie will have his own bed in with Fred to catch some sleep if he is caught overnight in headquarters again. I'm so sorry if you were uncomfortable, Harry." She patted his cheek consolingly, before bustling off and clattering dishes around, off on a new tangent about the importance of breakfast for a growing boy.
Harry's mouth had fallen open at her manipulations, and he rounded on Charlie, eyes wide with astonishment even as he closed his mouth to chew nervously on the edge of his bottom lip, a sign that he was nervous. Charlie glanced at his mother to make sure her back was still turned, then leaned quickly over the table to breathe a quiet rush of instructions into Harry's ear.
"Don't let on you know what she's up to, she'll just meddle more. Eat a big breakfast and then slip away. I'll meet you a few minutes later. We don't want her any more suspicious than she already is." He returned to his own seat and appeared totally engrossed in a copy of the Daily Prophet that had been left on the table by the time Molly turned back to them to ask what they wanted on their eggs. Harry forced a smile and quickly rattled off a few meats and veggies, mind still running circles around the thought of having to spend the night all alone once again.
Finally, Charlie gave a playfully exasperated eye roll and nodded his head slightly towards the kitchen door. Stretching carefully, muscles still protesting any movement with a flare of pain, Harry stood and pushed away from the table.
"Breakfast was delicious Mrs. Weasley, thank you. I think I might go find Sirius, he was going to tell me a story about my dad." Harry wasn't exactly sure why the lie seemed necessary, just that it felt like the right thing to do. Molly, though, gave him a pitying look and waved him away, so he supposed it would at least save him the trouble of having to argue his way out helping with the 'decontaminating' process. He didn't suppose Ron, Hermione, or Ginny, at least, would be so lucky.
When he reached the door to Buckbeak's room, he knocked softly then slipped inside without waiting for an answer, back to the room.
"Hey Harry," he was greeted almost immediately, and with sinking feeling of guilt in his stomach he turned to face Bill Weasley.
Harry had not spent any time alone with the eldest Weasley child since the man had gotten himself disowned. He wanted to apologize, beg forgiveness, pile him with gratitude, something, but every time he had seen him at headquarters, Harry had lost his nerve and run the other direction. The silence was stretching on, and Harry realized that he hadn't answered other than to spin around and stare wide-eyed at the other wizard.
"Bill. I…" He raised his hands helplessly, at a loss for words, then let them fall to his sides dejectedly while he hung his head in shame.
"I'm beginning to really hate it when you're right," Bill said lightly, looking over Harry's shoulder. Harry followed his gaze to where Sirius stood petting Buckbeak. Harry's attention was then pulled back to Bill when the red-head placed a finger on his chin and carefully turned his face back towards him.
"You need to stop blaming yourself for this, Harry. I made my decision, and I have no regrets. Charlie may not know it yet, but he will do far better on the High Council than I ever would have. In your own ways, you both are able to demand attention from a room when you speak on something you are passionate about. I am a peace-maker, not a persuader; Char can make things happen that I never could have just by casting our family's single vote into a compromise." He lowered his hand and stepped back, watching Harry carefully. "I really wish you'd stop avoiding me; we are brothers after all… aren't we?"
For the first time since Bill started talking, he sounded uncertain, and Harry was reminded all over again of Charlie's words to him when Bill had first agreed to be disowned. "…Because that is how family works; you have each other's backs, you make sacrifices for one another, and you stand together through the good and the bad… We're bonded now, Harry. Bill started seeing you as his brother-in-law the second he found out." Before he could think too much about it, Harry stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Bill's torso, squeezing him in a quick hug before releasing him and straightening himself up, vaguely aware of the door opening and closing behind him. He locked eyes with Bill, who was smiling down at him after the hug.
"Yes; we are brothers." A hand ruffled his hair affectionately after he spoke, and looked around to see Charlie watching the two of them with shining eyes. Before the moment could get too sappy, Sirius cleared his throat and stepped forward, brushing feather fluff from the hippogriff off on his pants as he did.
"Now that we've gotten that cleared up… Harry, Charlie; Bill and I need to teach you Pureblood Etiquette before sending you into the manticore's den next weekend, so to speak." With that, he conjured four lumpy armchairs and grimaced at them. "Might as well get comfortable; it is going to be a looooong day."
"Goody," Harry groused, flopping down into a chair and rubbing at his scar absent-mindedly. It had been tingly all morning; not painfully, almost more of a tickle. As though Voldemort were feeling cheerful…
xXxXxXxXx
In a heavily warded wing of the Riddle manor in Little Hangleton, Severus Snape sank into a low bow before Voldemort's throne-like chair. It was an ancient piece, looted from the goblin stronghold that had stood where Hogsmeade village now stands, having been defeated in the 1612 Goblin Rebellion. Snape knew all of this because Malfoy, who had presented the throne to the Dark Lord as a gift and now stood smugly to the right of the chair, had bragged about the great silver monstrosity with its inlays of emeralds and diamonds at least a half dozen times while Snape had been staying at Malfoy Manor.
Inwardly, Severus sighed while he waited on his knees to be given permission to speak and give his report. A part of him resented Albus for having him go through with this mission: he was systematically visiting the homes of all Death Eaters with Hogwarts-aged children, evaluating and assessing who might be ready this year to be offered the Mark. Voldemort wanted to begin building a new force right under Dumbledore's nose, but he was being cautious, not wanting to show his hand too soon because some foolish teenager got scared and couldn't keep a secret.
Snape knew that the information he gathered for the Order as a part of Voldemort's inner circle was vital, and he also understood that he was now in a unique position to offer something of a grace period to any Death-Eater's children who may be hesitating to follow in their parents' footsteps. As long as he was careful in the way he framed his reasoning to the Dark Lord, he could claim they simply were not ready or groomed enough yet, when in reality he was buying them time to make up their own minds about their futures. Still, his gut churned with guilt as he sat and waited to deliver his first list of names of students—mere children—who he was 'recommending' the Dark Lord 'honor' with his Mark.
"Ah, Severus. I was not expecting you to visit so quickly. Good news, I hope? Lucius tells me you have been staying with him and spending a great deal of time speaking to young Malfoy and his school…friends." This last word was spoken as though it left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, and Snape carefully schooled his features into a blank expression before finally raising his head.
"He is correct. Draco, as Lucius indicated, is quite dedicated to your cause, and his personal hatred for Potter only serves to fuel this enthusiasm. I believe my Godson would prove more than adept at leading those fortunate students that you deem worthy of receiving your mark." Lucius smiled at him happily, and Snape focused on keeping his mind blank and his breathing even. He was disgusted with himself for helping pave the way for his Godchild (however little true affection he held for the boy) into Voldemort's ranks. At the same time, though, he was well aware that Draco had long ago been lost to the Dark, and at least with him as unsanctioned 'leader,' Severus would have somewhat of a grasp of control over the students.
"Very well. Lucius, I trust Severus' judgment on this; I am pleased with the way you have shaped your son for me, and glad for your sake that your assessment of his loyalties was not exaggerated." The end of the statement was said in a dark, threatening manner, and Malfoy gulped nervously.
"My Lord," he responded, dropping to his knees as well. "I am humbled by your praise; I seek only to serve you. I am glad of any part I can play in sculpting the future in the Dark Lord's image." Snape pressed his tongue sharply into the roof of his mouth, a rare physical response that he was able to allow himself when particularly ill-at-ease, as it was neither visibly nor audibly detected. As Lucius simpered on as though discussing some twisted muggle theology, Severus had to fight harder to remain passive.
"Thank you, Lucius," the Dark Lord eventually cut in, silencing the blond man with a lazy wave of his hand that clearly indicated dismissal. "Severus, I wish to hear more. What of young Malfoy's friends?"
"Messrs. Crabbe and Goyle, sons, not fathers, lack Draco's intelligence and cunning, but they would make excellent muscle for your ranks. They have followed Draco as his bodyguards, for lack of a better description, since day one at Hogwarts, and after many dull hours questioning them, I found no reason for concern. If My Lord so pleases, I believe they are good candidates for marking as well." Severus paused, waiting to see if Voldemort wished to question or comment. When no remarks were forth-coming, he continued.
"Fionnghall Yaxley graduated in June, but I spoke with him anyway as he came to visit Draco while I was staying in Malfoy Manor. Finn was something of a mentor to Draco in his younger years, and while he is not at Hogwarts any longer, many of the students looked up to him, and he would be a loyal follower. It may be strategic to allow Draco to leak the news of Yaxley's Marking into Slytherin House come fall." Snape didn't think it necessary to mention that just as many students might be encouraged to reconsider joining up themselves when they heard that the brutish thug was the kind of wizard the Dark Lord wanted amongst his ranks.
"I have always admired your initiative, Severus. I am pleased indeed with your work. Yaxley… as in Gollmac Yaxley's child then? He has a brother, does he not?" This was the one detail the professor had hoped would not be mentioned, but he kept his face passive while he answered.
"So I am told. Derkkridge, I believe; he is scheduled to begin school this fall."
"Good. You will assess him as well once we see what house he is sorted into."
"Of course, My Lord." Snape bowed again, and after a few more instructions, was dismissed. As he walked away, he carefully hid a shudder at the hissing laughter filling the chamber while Voldemort contemplated the twisted little army of children he was planning for Severus' home.
Author Note: Gred and Forge are all smug and pleased with themselves for finally convincing me they were ready for this moment… I hope I didn't mess it up too badly. :P
Because I am nerdy, I am really excited for the next chapter, when Harry learns all kinds of traditions and culture of the Wizarding world. I apologize if that is not your personal cup of tea, but even if I wasn't really really happy to include it, it would be necessary before I can write about the High Council meeting…
Thank you all for reading! You are wonderful.
-Emmette