Series: Minor Arcana. Sequel to "Declaro" (rating R). You really need to read that first. Find it through the author link @ ff.net or skyehawke.com.

Rating: This chapter R, I think, but only just.

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

Notes: For those reading on ff.net, you should make sure you didn't miss the last chapter – the replacement chapter was overlaid on an authorial note, so, there will have been some confusion. There will be only two parts to this chapter (ie. they're longer). Thanks to all the people who begged for an update to read while they wait for The Order of the Phoenix. I've done my best. And, to answer the other question: I wish I could finish the series before Book 5 comes out, because I know it won't be compatible at all and I actually do like to be mostly true to canon and in character. But, though I'll be reading OotP as soon as possible, everything I've started will stay as planned.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling.

Archiving: Only where I've agreed.

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

Pervinco V (a): The Gift

The spectacular news on Monday morning was Cho Chang's. It wasn't about her wand, although half the weekend's gossip had been focused on what Draco Malfoy had really done to her in Charms, and the subsequent scene outside Wizarding Culture that evening when she and the other Ravenclaws had cornered Malfoy demanding an explanation and apology. Rumour was he refused, and if someone hadn't reported the situation to Binns, although no one owned up to it, things probably would have gotten much worse.

The weekend had seen a large number of the Slytherins moving back to openly supporting Draco Malfoy. Sure he might be fucking Harry Potter – although not everyone agreed and the interested parties were denying it, in their very different ways – but he was clearly first-rate at all the more aggressive and defensive magical forms and had powerful people on his side. Rumour had it Malfoy'd be moving back to the dungeons; except of course for the rumours that had Malfoy staying in Gryffindor Tower to be closer to Harry. Both theories accepted that Sangermano was clearly a Malfoy plant, and that no one wanted to be paired up with Malfoy in that class again (unless Harry did). At another time this news would have occupied everyone for weeks, but this year it had to compete with the first weekend of Rite meetings between supplicants and their objects, and that was the real reason for Cho's dramatic news.

Hermione certainly heard it first, being almost an honorary Ravenclaw, but she wasn't explaining. At 8am the 7th year end of the Ravenclaw table was still empty. Some of the older Ravenclaws were clearly checking the entryway to Ravenclaw Tower with expectant faces and at increasingly short intervals. Eventually, just as Padma finally said she was going to see where Parvati was, Cho came in. It was quite an entrance, flanked by the rest of the senior Ravenclaws and clad in dazzling white planes of cloth – a stiff full white robe even more remarkable against her beautifully curled black hair. Lavender was in a state of suppressed squealing, and the rest of the student body were whispering or staring in varying degrees of shock and puzzlement. Padma was already half way to her twin to get the inside details, trailed by her Lavender shadow.

Harry saw Draco fall into close conversation with Pansy and Blaise, but felt the table's eyes on him the minute he looked that way. "So the white robes are next. . . right?" he managed to say, generally in Hermione's direction.

She simply nodded and poured tea. It would be easier if Ron were here.

"And that means. . ?" Harry prompted.

"She's made an agreement," Neville said, shifting closer.

"She signed a contract?"

"No, you can't – the spell only works at midsummer."

"Well, what then?"

There was murmured confusion, and Dean started to venture a theory about Cho's broken wand until Hermione said, "Oh for heaven's sake, she only accepted one person and therefore she clearly doesn't have to go through any of the comparisons – they reached an agreement. She's just. . . cutting through the messy part." Dean looked at her blankly. "It's really very pragmatic. It's mostly over for her now, and she can get on with the N.E.W.T.s without all this distraction."

"Can she do that?"

Hermione patiently waited for someone to notice and pass her the milk before answering. "Well there's no reason why not. She can do all the other stages as fast as she likes when there's only one offer – only the contract has to wait till June."

A chaos of Gryffindors debated who it was Cho had accepted, agreeing it must be someone pretty spectacular, for the ten minutes it took the Colin Creevey gossip service to come through. Antonin Dernier. No one knew him. Lavender came back with the additional information that Cho was wearing a necklace of pearls powerfully charmed for protection. He had given them to her yesterday in London, when they reached an agreement, but no she didn't actually know who he was. Padma's more useful contribution was almost lost as she tried to grab some food before breakfast vanished while still paying attention to the arrival of owls – the young man was half French half English, worked for the European council of wizards, and was Professor Sinistra's younger cousin.

Padma and Lavender went off gossiping about pearls and white robes and a house in Rome; Hermione went to congratulate Cho before Potions; and Harry sank his head into his arms and listened to Neville try to explain to Seamus why someone would choose a diplomat over the Canons' Chaser. He really hoped they skipped the Supplement tonight. Half the table was already gossiping excitedly over "Famous Duels and Trials – Get Your Collectible Cards Today", and he'd had more than enough of the Rite.

Neville poked him in the shoulder, but the scratching and fluttering had already given it away. He wasn't surprised, just maintaining the faint hope that it was somebody else's problem. "Um, Harry?" He looked up, gave the owl trailing dark velvet green ribbons an evil look, and took the small matching pouch with a sigh.

* * *

Snape looked up at the knock on his laboratory door.

"Lupin," he said. "Just in time." He finished a sealing spell on the last of four leather flasks lined up on the bench. "You may take them."

"Thank you Severus," Lupin said in his even voice. "And here are the notes," he added, passing Snape a small book. "This time I have some notes from the change as well, taken by Draco. This week I hope they will be even more detailed. As you know, Draco was not well last month."

Snape didn't comment on that. "The effects remain the same then," he said instead, "according to Mr Malfoy's notes?"

"Yes, more or less" Lupin replied. "Severus, considering everything, I think that you can drop the formalities when we talk about the boy."

"I don't see that the situation warrants. . ." Snape cut himself off in the face of Lupin's infuriating look of interest. "In any case, I am the boy's representative in the godforsaken Rite, and you are a supplicant."

"As the boy's life and soul probably hang in the balance over this 'godforsaken Rite' I would think. . ."

Snape snatched up his wand and slammed the door shut with a spell. "Idiot Gryffindors!"

Remus smiled mildly. "Really, Severus, one would think it was past time to have given up those old rivalries. You assist me, I rely on you, can't you extend just a little trust? I'm quite sure I would have heard anyone, perhaps even smelt them. As I've said, the potion works to limit the beast's emergence in several ways, but far more of the wolf's sensory perception is with me, for more of the time. "

"Is there anything else?"

"The boy is well."

"I'm quite aware of Mr Malfoy's health."

"Of course," Snape bit his tongue. "And how is Harry," Lupin continued. "I've rarely seen him. I was hoping you might both come to tea on the weekend."

"To tea."

"Yes."

"What on earth for?"

"For tea, Severus. On Sunday? At four o'clock?"

"Even if I was remotely interested, I will be far too busy. The Weasley boy hardly compensates for the extra burdens at present."

"I am sure you will come if you can," Remus replied, as if it were completely settled to his satisfaction. "Harry and Draco would be very happy to see you, I'm sure."

"It's marvellous to see Albus has finally found an apprentice in the field of politics by tea," Snape sneered.

"No politics, Severus. I am interested in the boys' welfare."

Snape laughed in a sharp dry way. "While never mutually exclusive it's safe to say at present the things are inseparable."

"Perhaps. Although I wonder if the Slytherin mindset doesn't see politics as the only solution as well as the only question."

"Hanging on to a few old rivalries yourself, Lupin?"

Remus dropped his smile, then, and took up the flasks carefully, depositing them into a well-used used book bag, at which Snape looked with distaste. "It's discreet," Remus said, "I thought you'd appreciate it." When it was carefully fastened, he added, "Which reminds me, have you met the new Charms tutor?"

"So Albus gave Flitwick a tutor? Probably a good idea."

The werewolf hummed his agreement, leaning on the bench and toying with a pipette, which Snape took from him with a glare. "The young man is quite voluble on the subject of Draco. Apparently they've met before."

"Jealous, Lupin?"

Remus laughed softly. "On the subject of Draco, though. . ."

"Which you return to with embarrassing regularity. . ."

". . . you could do me a favour, Severus." Snape continued replacing his instruments without comment. "I could use your assistance with the boy's gift."

* * *

Harry knocked on Snape's door somewhat tentatively. This scene never turned out the way he wanted it to.

"Come." Snape gave him an arch look as he slipped through the door, carrying his box and pouch. "I trust this is actually important Mr Potter?"

Harry took the usual seat. He'd had far worse welcomes from Snape, but "It wouldn't kill you to be nice to me, you know."

"A hypothesis unlikely to be tested soon. What do you want, Mr Potter? It's been a long day and there may actually be members of my own house that wish to see me." He turned to the next paper on his pile and apparently began to mark.

Harry bit back a sharp retort, which wouldn't help. "I've received gifts from two of the. . . declarations," Harry couldn't bring himself to call them supplicants. Well, not most of them, it was almost amusing with Snape and Draco, to himself of course, if also occasionally frightening.

"You don't need to inform me of that. They are private. If there is a problem you can discuss it with your representatives." Snape looked up only for an instant, and perhaps that was to wet his quill. "Who are they, by the way, as it isn't Black? I trust it's not Lupin."

"No, I. . . didn't think of Remus, although perhaps he would have been a better choice. Not that Hagrid won't. . ."

"What does Hagrid know about contracts and negotiations?"

"Well he knows about people, and honesty."

Snape finally put down the pen. "Hagrid knows nothing of honesty because he can't comprehend lying."

"Well. . . Dumbledore can do that part."

"Indeed he can. Albus and Hagrid?" Harry nodded. "You could do worse, although Albus tends to reserve his practicality for the most extreme situations."

Harry wondered quite how the conversation got to this point. "It doesn't matter anyway, as we both know you're the person I'm accepting." Snape gave him an interesting look, but he couldn't tell what it meant. "And, I expect Dumbledore knows that too," he added, and the look shifted, but not to anything Harry understood better. His eyes flicked to the box on the table.

"And yet," Snape said, gesturing at the box as well, "you've hardly demonstrated Ms Cho's sense of urgency."

"It seemed wrong to. . ." He couldn't say that to Snape, who would sneer at it. "In any case, Cho's in a hurry about everything since she, you know, spent all that time in St Mungo's." Cutting off that train of thought, Harry opened the box from the Malkins and placed the bottle on Snape's desk. "Is it the real thing?"

Snape carefully took the bottle and turned it in the light. After a moment, he opened the stopper with the unsealing spell and inhaled, delicately, from a slight distance. Harry shifted in his seat and blinked, but he heard Snape reseal the bottle with a whisper.

"I made this," he said, somewhat roughly. "It's genuine."

Harry glanced at the script on the label. "It's my bottle but not my handwriting. It's rather foolish to label something you're not supposed to own."

"How would they have got it?"

"There is a market, although I'm not sure either why the Malkins would need such a quantity of truth potion, nor why they would choose this as their gift to you. You have no need. . ." He met Harry's eyes, "Perhaps they think you believe you have a need."

It had occurred to Harry that things would be simpler if he knew what Snape and Draco, at least, really meant and wanted. But not only was it evidently not the right thing to do, on reflection he doubted he could pull it off without being caught.

"You sell this?" he said eventually, when Snape continued to examine him.

"I am a Potions Master, not a gypsy peddler." Snape shoved the bottle back at Harry and wiped his hands, "I made that batch for Lucius Malfoy several years ago."

"And it's still good?" Snape gave him an irritated look and Harry added, "Of course it is."

"You will be extremely cautious with its storage," Snape said sternly. "Veritaserum is not physically harmful but a truth potion can still be dangerous."

"I know that," Harry said, and just stopped himself from insisting he wasn't stupid – an opening Snape never needed.

"Very well," Snape said, as if it was a difficult concession. "It is against Ministry rules for you to own it, but as no one is quite sure how many rules are being adjusted right now, I suppose there's no need to forfeit it to people more foolish than yourself."

"Perhaps you should keep it?"

Snape looked at him sharply. "I have no need of it."

"I meant to keep it safe."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Snape nodded silently. He moved over to a dark cabinet on the wall. Harry watched the graceful way he walked, arms still and back straight. He heard a murmur, saw the air before the cabinet kind of ripple, and then Snape beckoned him over.

"This," the Professor said, "can be locked to your voice."

Harry had never been this close to Snape except when, well, except those two times when they were much closer. Or, of course, sometimes when Snape was yelling at him. He could feel a warmth that might have been the other man's body, and he wondered what the robe's apparently thick black sleeve would feel like under his fingers. He ventured a look at the Professor's face. He was being watched with, not curiousity, but interest. His groin tightened and tingled as he quickly looked back the cabinet, hoping the heat in his face didn't show and trying not to wonder what Snape would do if he touched him. It was so different, and in some ways so much more strange, than with Draco, when he always knew more or less what he wanted, even if he wasn't sure if he should try and have it.

"You say the pass word touching your wand to this latch," Snape quietly. "I'll leave the room if you like."

Harry shook his head, removed his wand, and placed the bottle inside. The black cabinet door swung shut with a confident click. "Pervinco," Harry said, tapping the latch. Snape raised an eyebrow. "It came to mind," Harry explained.

As the Professor started to move away Harry put two fingers to the man's sleeve. "There's also this," he said, proffering the small velvet pouch.

The silver cord came free with one tug. Tipping the small gold pin into his hand, Snape gave it an astonished look.

"It's a tiny snitch," Harry said, and then wished he hadn't. When Snape didn't comment, Harry took the pin and fastened it to his green robe. Its little wings fluttered as the fastening somehow disappeared into the fabric and the ornament slid up the cloth of his robe to his shoulder. Harry stretched out his hand and smiled as it ran along his arm and stopped to fluttered at his upturned wrist.

Harry caught Snape's odd expression, and felt himself blush at how childish he probably seemed.

"I hardly think it needs to be locked away," Snape said.

"No, but. . ." he wished he hadn't mentioned it, but now he had to explain. "I like it. I know it's not important itself but. . ." Snape was watching him and he felt even more ridiculous.

"What seems to be the problem, then?"

"Well, I probably shouldn't wear it. Should I?"

Snape put one long hand under Harry's wrist, and put a finger to the little toy. "It should be checked for magic, I think," the little snitch ran briefly over Snape's finger then back up Harry's arm to hum somewhere near his neck. "Any gift from a Malfoy. . ." Snape left the sentence unfinished.

The tiny fluttering hum subsided under the rush of Harry's blood as Snape continued to cradle his wrist in both hands. They felt warm and cool. Harry didn't look up. "How did you know it was from Draco?" he said instead. "There wasn't even a note."

Harry felt the snitch run a tiny trail across his neck and heard it whisper down the front of his robe out of hearing as Snape leaned down, moving one hand around to Harry's back while the other continued to support his wrist. "How did you know it was from Draco, Harry?" Snape said, and his breath brushed Harry's wrist before he pressed his mouth to the soft raised inner skin. Harry drew in a breath of wild arousal and was sure he swayed on his feet at the sight of Snape's dark hair falling over his arm as the mouth made contact once more with his wrist and then moved away. Looking up at Harry as he straightened, Snape's eyes glittered. Harry felt rather than saw a key being pressed into his palm as Snape said through his half smile, "Because Malfoys have both taste and subtlety".

Snape was back at his desk when Harry opened his eyes. "It belongs to you," the Professor said, with apparent indifference, "you should wear it if it pleases you."

Harry walked back toward the chair and thought with relief that he'd managed it as if his cock wasn't humming and half-hard. But when Snape picked up the next paper and the quill, Harry struggled to swallow his frustration and confusion.

"Thank you for your help," he said stiffly, pocketing the key. "Goodnight."

Snape smiled at him, then, more than the half smile, much more than the smirk, as if he'd done something surprisingly right, but Harry was too irritated to try and guess what that meant on top of everything else.

* * *

On Wednesday in 7th year Potions, straight after lunch, Snape had rare difficulty getting the class to concentrate. Lavender Brown kept staring at Draco Malfoy in a particularly insipid way, and Draco seemed too intently focused on his workbook for the very little progress he made with it. The Slytherin girls were attempting a huddle of whispers that spanned at least six desks, and the Gryffindor boys were quarrelling and glaring, generally at either Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom. The latter seemed unlikely to ruin anything today, if only because he had been transformed into a puddle of embarrassment.

Something had to be done.

HARRY:

Despite Snape's increasing irritation, everyone is focused on today's gifts and nobody is interested in making a minor healing potion. Pansy is preening next to me, though I don't have a clue what she got or from whom, and it looks so much more obvious because she's sitting next to Neville who keeps looking at the floor rather than the notebook.

I can hear Ron explaining in a too loud whisper to an incredulous Dean that Neville may not be anything at Potions, or Charms, or. . . but he's from a good family, has bags of money, is good at plants and, well, is a really nice bloke. That's ammunition enough and Snape's off on a tirade which is, thankfully, directed more at Ron and Dean than Neville.

In front of me Lavender sighs, and she's staring at Draco again. The tiny snitch flutters over my heart as he glances my way. Lavender gives me a sympathetic look, as if I'm really competing with Remus and certain to lose now. It's not like I'm Draco's supplicant or anything, so even if I was to accept him, which I wouldn't because I've made a deal with Snape, then it's not. . . actually I have no idea if that means he couldn't accept Remus. Does it work that way? I mean, could he be Lupin's apprentice and still, whatever, something else, with me? The Ron and Hermione thing suggests maybe not.

Also, Remus's approach to Draco today didn't exactly scream apprentice. I thought Ron was going to swallow his tongue. Sure the gifts themselves were more tool-like than romantic, now that I think about it: a silver bowl, a long black bottle, and a knife. They did look like parts of some ritual, though I try not to listen to Dean about anything at present. It wasn't the gifts, though, but the way he gave them. No owls, no discreet letters, no private meeting, he just walked up to him in the Great Hall, in front of half the school, and gave them to him. Smiled and said – according to Lavender – Draco, these are for you, I very much hope you like them. I know Snape will never give me something publicly like that, or as if we are friends.

I look at Draco, who's running the feather of a quill across his obscenely delicate mouth. It must have meant something.

Snape has moved on to torturing Neville. I could have told him that Neville Longbottom is numb from receiving an elaborate display of singing owls dropping flowers that turned into golden sickles once they'd reached the floor or the table, or Dean's plate. Goyle has now given Snape some account of this and he's sneeringly asking after Neville's romantic distractions.

He glares at me as he stalks past to his desk.

* * *

Snape noticed Harry was wearing Draco's gift about half way through class, and it was unreasonably irritating the way he kept noticing Harry noticing it, and the way he noticed its subtle movements, pinned against the boy's chest.

The boys gave each other a warm look as he finally allowed the class to leave, and Snape noticed Millicent Bulstrode pay particularly keen attention to the exchange, although others noticed as well. Really, Draco should know better. Better himself than Lucius, and perhaps there was more to the lapse of control.

Snape called Malfoy back, just as he was apparently about to draw Potter aside. Parkinson and Zabini seem to hover – Draco clearly managed a better class of henchmen these days – and he waited for Draco to dismiss them.

"Yes, Professor?"

"You were unusually distracted today, Mr Malfoy," Snape began. "I'm sure I don't want to know why, but if you and Potter are going to moon over one another you can save it for Divination, when everyone will have time to take notes."

The boy seemed a little confused, and more surprisingly that slight confusion was rather obvious. It was quite possibly a performance with some purpose. . .

"Was that all, Professor Snape?" Draco said, "I have a Herbology class."

Snape felt himself stiffen, and the boy looked up at him with unguarded surprise.

"Of course, if you need me for anything," he said quickly.

"Of course not," Snape said icily. "I merely wanted to inform you that, as your representatives, your father and I have agreed to two meetings on Saturday. Parkinson and Hartwood."

"I had a note from my father this morning," Draco said, scanning Snape's face carefully.

Snape moved to the front desk, casually, but away from the boy's curiousity. "I am proposing that the meetings be held in my rooms. You may attend me there at 10am, and your father will join us."

Draco trailed him back towards the front of the class, "I understood the first meeting was at 11?"

"If you wish to go into the meetings unprepared. . ."

"No. I appreciate the additional time," Draco traced tentative fingers across the nearest desk, "and interest." He stepped up onto the raised platform where Snape's desk was placed and the blue silk robe swished with his raised step and then rustled back across his thighs as he put a hand on Snape's desk. "I am just concerned that Professor Lupin may need me in the morning."

"The Professor has managed many a morning after the full moon without you Mr Malfoy, I am confident he will survive another."

"Yes," Draco said with a small smile, "but he seemed to want me there in any case."

"I will expect you at 10," Snape said, moving away. But as he passed the boy he said quietly, "Draco, the more different interests you juggle the easier it is to drop something."

The blond head inclined slowly, as if in only cautious agreement. "And are you going to warn me that the thing I drop may be the one I can least afford to break?" Snape jerked his head back to meet Draco's eyes. "I wonder which one of you said it first," the boy added, only just loud enough for Snape to hear.

Snape looked away, Draco retrieved his bag, and they left the room without speaking.

The boy turned off towards the Hall and the Professor waited near the door till the door closed at the end of the corridor.

"Detention with me at 8pm, Miss Bulstrode," Snape said distinctly.