Series: Minor Arcana. Sequel to "Declaro" (rating R). You really need to read that first, I think. Find it on ff.net or at www.skyehawke.com.

Rating: This chapter PG-13. Rating will go up.

Category: Drama/Romance

Pairings: This chapter – elements of SS/DM, HP/DM, SS/HP.

Summary: In Harry's 7th year a wizarding tradition is being revived. It seems to have trapped Snape, Draco and Harry in a strange triangle, but that's only part of the problem. This was initially inspired by Diana Williams' "The Courtship of Harry Potter".

Notes: The last two scenes of The Plumed Serpent. Not entirely pleased with them – feedback welcome.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling.

Archiving: Only where I've agreed.

Feedback/Reviews: Definitely – especially to tell me what works and what doesn't.

Pervinco II (b): The Plumed Serpent

Lucius Malfoy turned from the window to watch his son enter with Minerva McGonagall.

"Lucius, good evening," she said.

"Minerva," Lucius said with a slight bow, "a pleasure."

"Your visits are an always an event," she responded evenly. "We weren't expecting you until tomorrow."

"I knew Draco would be anxious to see me." Lucius turned towards the boy, blond heads inclining towards each other.

"Thank you, father. I hope you traveled well," Draco replied.

"However," McGonagall said briskly, "Draco has duties with Professor Lupin tonight. As I said, we were expecting you tomorrow." She walked in her upright way to the door, saying, "I will return to collect him in half an hour."

"That is quite out of the question," Lucius said, and she stopped, stiffly, by the door. "I have come some way to spend time with my son. He can dine with me, and I will summon one of the house-elves when our meeting is complete."

"It will be impossible. . ."

"I can, of course, take Draco somewhere else for dinner if Hogwarts hospitality cannot extend to a meal. . ." He clearly took the witch's tightening expression as agreement. "A table here will be perfectly sufficient."

Giving an annoyed nod, McGonagall left the room. Lucius turned his attention to Draco.

* * *

Harry hesitated outside Dumbledore's office, looking at the gargoyle – part man, part snake, part bird, and maybe something else.

"It won't grant you any wishes, Potter." Wonderful, Harry thought.

"No, apparently not." Snape paused next to the boy, still a few inches taller. Harry could feel him looking.

"Were you hiding from me or from Black?" Snape eventually asked.

Harry replied "Cherry Ripe" and, without looking at the other man, passed in through the door.

Remus Lupin reclined in his chair near Fawkes's perch, and smiled at Snape and Harry.

Minerva McGonagall sat stiffly in her chair near Dumbledore's desk, and directed a more than usually concerned expression absently towards them.

Arthur Weasley shuffled back through the folder of papers on his lap, looking for something, and didn't notice the latest arrivals.

Albus Dumbledore smiled a welcome as they came in, "Good evening, Harry, Severus."

Sirius Black growled from his carved wooden chair and thrust himself to his feet. "Snape."

"Now, Sirius," Dumbledore cautioned. "We agreed."

"We'll talk later," Sirius muttered, not looking away until Snape responded with a curt nod.

"Wonderful," Albus responded cheerfully – everyone else in the room reflected on his sanity – "Now, who would like tea?"

* * *

When the final dishes were cleared away by the elves, Lucius dismissed them and took a seat by the fire, gesturing for Draco to join him. "Now," he said to his son, "Harry Potter."

"Has accepted. . ."

"I didn't ask a question." Lucius paused coolly to emphasise his point. "I have been giving thought to how your undeniably foolish public exposure might be of benefit." He crossed one elegant knee over the other.

"I had considered. . ."

"Draco," Lucius said, even more casually leaning an elbow on the chair's arm, "I strongly recommend that you do not interrupt." He waited another long moment to ensure compliance. "You will of course have to marry and have children, but any. . . undesired contact can easily be avoided." Draco continued to look at his father without apparent emotion. "There may also be advantages in our negotiation with certain influential men."

Draco blinked.

"Are you and Potter lovers?"

"Oh no."

"Why then would he accept so quickly?'

"He. . ." Draco clearly considered for a moment, "I believe he wants us to be."

Lucius put a finger to the side of Draco's face, tipping it towards him. "Of course. You will, however, be sure that does not happen until we believe it useful." Draco nodded his agreement.

"And you will keep any," Lucius gestured vaguely between them, "activities. . . to a discreet minimum. Any man with power desires exclusive things. In fact, it will be best to abstain. We will find the most effective moment for overcoming your newfound celibacy," he paused. "I presume it would be newfound?"

"Yes, father."

"Sangermano," Lucius said. "I wondered if he was rather too good looking to teach Latin."

Clearly unsure whether a response was required, Draco waited, then looked up curiously. His father was observing him, as if from a distance. "But Remus Lupin, Draco? He's barely human."

"I received a declaration from him, father. I didn't offer one."

"Yes, I've seen the text." Draco didn't register any surprise at that. "Apprenticeship," Lucius said with irritation, "as if a Malfoy takes on a mere skill. You will refuse him immediately – it is merely clumsy of Dumbledore to consider that an offer."

"Father. . . If I may. . ?" Lucius indicated his willingness to hear. "My role at Hogwarts is now, in general, everything you wished me to achieve when I came here. I would think the position worth maintaining." He lowered his eyes. "With respect."

"I don't see any necessity to prolong association between our house and Lupin. But the other progress is, I suppose, satisfactory. Also counter to my instructions but – Narcissa tells me I don't give you enough credit; that I treat you like a child."

Draco visibly relaxed into the couch as his father turned his attention to the fire. "Father. . . I have been asked to name my representatives for the Rite negotiations. I thought it would be wise to include a confidante of Dumbledore's. . . while he believes he is protecting me."

Lucius examined his son. "But of course he is not." It was not a question.

"Lupin is ineligible, as a supplicant," Lucius continued. "I presume you mean Severus." Draco nodded. "Very well, everything shall be copied to him. Narcissa will not mind being relieved of the paperwork."

Without another word Lucius rose and gathered his cloak about him, waiting while his son rose and pausing, clearly allowing another space for Draco's nervous hesitancy.

"I shall give your regards to your mother. " Draco bowed slightly. "Now," Lucius said, drawing his wand, "I had best summon an elf for access out of this menagerie."

"Thank you for your indulgence, father," Draco replied with barely evident relief.

Lucius bent to loosely embrace his son, who pressed his forehead to his father's shoulder.

"I forgive you, Draco. This time." Draco whispered his thanks. "But you will remember to give the most careful attention to my instructions from now on."

"I will."

"I know." Lucius raised his son's face to look closely into his mirroring grey eyes and raised one hand. "Crucio."

* * *

As Mr Weasley and Mrs Figg finally entered the floo, Harry turned angrily to his Potions professor. "You didn't have to do that."

"What, Potter?" Harry waited him out. "You want Black to believe I'm trying to seduce you?"

"No!" Snape gave him a dubious look, "But – I mean – you didn't have to say that I was desperate for attention."

"And hormonally out of control. . ." Snape reminded him, without smiling, though to Harry that seemed to be the intention.

"And that. You could just have said you weren't interested."

"Which wouldn't have explained why I wasn't to the nice homicidal brute, would it?"

"You implied that. . . I'm just a child."

"Really? I thought I stated it rather directly." Harry glared at him. "By all means let me refine it – you're a child trying desperately not to act like a child."

"Would it be possible to belittle me any more in that sentence?"

"I'm sure I could work on it."

"What is wrong with you? On the roof, when we saw Draco, you were. . . even civil to me."

"Clearly an error."

"What? Why?"

"You seem to have entirely forgotten that I am your professor."

As if that was likely. But being dragged into this. . . name-calling with Snape was never going to help. Harry took a deep breath, and returned to his seat. "It was, it is, a good plan. Obviously I can still accept you as well but. . . there were other reasons for accepting Draco."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I believe I can perfectly comprehend your motivations."

Argh. Harry was going to have to rewrite. . . "I wrote you a letter, explaining it. But I'm not allowed to come and see you, or write to you, so. . ."

"We talk to each other almost every day, Mr Potter. You gave me homework just today." Yeah, that was stupid. Harry would have apologised, said he'd been preoccupied, but that would lead to what he was preoccupied by and. . .

"If that's quite all. . ." Snape sneered.

"No," Harry said, suddenly angry again. "How can you just stand by and let the whole year be put what we know is a trap, just hoping that we'll find out what kind of trap in time?"

"You know perfectly well it's not my plan," Snape said tiredly, taking his own seat again. "The Headmaster always has more faith in the capacities of students than I."

"Is Draco safe? I mean, has he put too much faith in. . .?"

"I can't be sure. We're all working on it. And the Headmaster may be correct about the general value of reintroducing the apprenticeship system outside of the Rite," he looked rather sombrely around the room and idly ran his hand along the edge of Dumbledore's desk. "It can only help to give the more talented or ambitious students obvious avenues to power that don't involve becoming a Death-Eater. Refolding his hands, Snape turned back to Harry. "If Draco were to join us, eventually, he would be a great asset. But Harry you must be very careful with Draco. . . he's a very complicated boy."

"While I'm utterly transparent," Harry added ruefully. Snape gave him a pleased look. "And you called me Harry!"

"Mr Potter. . ."

"I won't hold it against you," Harry laughed. "But, really, you don't have to be so mean to Sirius about me."

"What?" Snape snapped. "He instructed you to reject me immediately. In front of me, what's more; and I am going to have to bear this. . . attitude while he acts as your representative."

"He's not," Harry said. "He refused to do it unless I ruled out you and Draco immediately."

"For a not inconsiderable wizard Black is such an infant." Harry had to smile at that, and Snape replied with that small smile that he'd seen once before. It made Harry feel warm and jumpy. "So he would leave you with Zabini, hmm? He really doesn't know you at all, does he?"

Harry grinned. "I suspect he secretly hopes I'll take Ginny Weasley. Or even the Russian girl."

Snape tapped his hand a few times on the arm of the chair, as if considering, and then got to his feet. "Goodnight then, Mr Potter."

Harry reached him just on the other side of the door, in the dark corridor. "About the letter, Professor."

"Very well. I'll send Thetis to you tomorrow. She'll be returning soon, but deserves a rest."

Harry only momentarily considered asking whom Snape was writing to, far away. "Professor?" Snape was turning to leave, but paused. "I'm sorry. I mean, that it couldn't be Draco."

Snape quickly pushed Harry to one side of the corridor by his arm, and put two long smooth fingers across the boy's mouth as he looked around. After a moment he leant to whisper roughly in Harry's ear. "Don't discuss such things in an open corridor. In fact, not anywhere not secured by yourself, or someone you trust." Harry nodded, shivering slightly at the sensation of someone's hand on his mouth, someone's breath on his face and neck.

Snape pulled back slowly, and Harry met his dark eyes as they drew away. They were, in fact they were, in their own way. . . not silver-grey, not any unearthly beauty, but. . . intense.

Snape moved first the hand on his arm and then, slowly, the fingers from his mouth. "Don't presume to know what I want," he said quietly. "I'll be sure to let you know, if it concerns you." He touched those fingers to the soft angle of Harry's jaw. "Good night, Mr Potter."

Tiredly, and with a kind of ache, Harry watched him disappear along the dark hall. He pulled his glasses from his face and rubbed at his eyes, too tired suddenly to be irritated or even confused. From the stairway he thought he heard a slight noise, but everything was dim and blurred. By the time he got to the stairs, glasses in place, there was definitely no one there.