When I went down to dinner that evening, I felt myself become part of an
elaborate game, a ruse. Certain actions, even the most mindless of
courtesies, would abet our growing plan.
"What do you intend to do after the wedding, Mister Potter?" Lucius asked.
"The wedding?" I repeated, caught off-guard.
"Surely our son had informed you that she will marry Miss Parkinson in a few week's time?" he questioned.
"Oh, yes," I replied. "He had. I must admit I do not know. I shall likely return to my Godfather in Delaware and search for another tutoring position."
"A worthwhile endeavor for a body to pursue," he commented.
"Three weeks is rather short notice for a wedding, is it not?" I asked after a few minutes' silence.
"Indeed," answered Narcissa. "Ideally, we would have months to prepare for such an event, but varied, ah, circumstances prevent such. However, both we and the Parkinsons have planned for Draco and Miss Parkinson's marriage since their childhoods. Why, Pansy completed her trousseau two years ago!" I gave an appropriate reaction of pleased surprise. Draco looked at me, and his eyes were filled with a sense of conspiratal contentment.
As the week passed, the further unfurlings of our plans gave me in their wonderful imminence a sense of ease, as though I were entrusting my future and its happiness to a higher power, below the Almighty and above myself: love. I was expected to conduct fewer lessons, as Draco was finding himself further committed to wedding preparations, engagement festivities, and, of all things, hunting lessons. Having more idle hours, I spent more time with Snape, talking of classical drama and the like.
That Sunday, as Draco and his family were at worship, I went to Severus's house with some annotations on Aristophanes. I slowly opened the door, bemused as to why he had not answered my knock. As I entered, I witnessed Severus at his dining table, sketching madly. I could come no closer, for he noticed my presence and rose to greet me.
"I apologize for not answering the door, but I was lost in thought," Severus said. "Have you breakfasted?" I nodded. "Ah, well, I'm sure you would not object to another pot of coffee. Excuse me." He went into the kitchen and started a fire in the stove. The smell of brewing coffee began to reach the sitting room. As Severus busied himself in the kitchen, I walked furtively to the table, curious as to what had so distracted him earlier.
Upon the table was an unfinished drawing of a beautiful woman reclining by the stream that ran through the plantation. Her hair was crudely colored with some smeared yellow flower petals; her dress was more carefully indicated as gray by a bit of charcoal. Near the drawing lay an opened book, the page of which I recognized as the Shakespeare sonnet
That God forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure.
O let me suffer (being at your beck) Th' imprisoned absence of your liberty, And patience tame to sufferance, bide each check, Without accusing you of injury.
Be where you list, your charter is so strong, That you your self may privilege your time To what you will, to you it doth belong, Your self to pardon of self-doing crime.
I am to wait, though waiting so be hell, Not blame your pleasure be it ill or well.
I moved to study the picture again when I heard Severus's footsteps growing closer to the kitchen's threshold. I quickly moved away from the table just as he appeared, bearing the coffee service. He poured me a cup, and I began to drink it, but I was still achingly curious as to whom the woman in the drawing was, and why her relations with Severus were so fraught with despair and unrequited passion.
"I noted your fervor in artistry as I entered," I mentioned with all the idle innocence I could muster.
"I had a powerful dream yesternight that reminded me of a pleasant day almost a score years past, and I felt need to put it upon paper," he replied. "But mind not my dreams; you have brought with you papers that are surely of more interest."
I brought out my annotations, and he and I discussed my interpretations of "Lysistrata."
"I pray that if our country descends into battles that our women would come to such a clever solution as these Greek women," Severus commented.
"What of their men?" I blurted impulsively.
"What ever do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean, I mean that the Greek men were notorious for their penchant for, ah, sodomite acts," I replied. "Would they not seek an alternative in one another?"
"Ah, I see what you mean," he said. "Perhaps they did indeed. Or perhaps their companions too abstained towards the cause of peace. Though I could never surely know, I assume that such must have occurred."
I nodded, still blushing slightly.
"Mister Potter," Severus continued. "Your humors are far easier to discern than I believe you are aware." I stammered some justification. "Oh, no, don't worry." He paused, looking casually aslant. "Every man has his cross to bear. At least some may find happiness in theirs rather than sorrow or pain." He was silent for a few minutes and closed his eyes.
"The nature of your relationship towards Master Malfoy as well as the nature of his towards you is evident." My eyes widened in fear. "To none else save myself, mind you," Severus assured me. "I have spent so many years watching others that every glance or lingering touch is naked and blaring. Your love reminds me of the one time I too permitted myself to fall in love: the joys despite the secrecies. My romance ended unpleasantly; I hope yours does not take my course. It is the worst of torments upon losing your beloved to then be near her always, with no safe place to conceal forever your ardor."
I began to ingest these words when the lunch bell rang. I took my leave of Severus and went towards the main house. Upon entering the dining room, where Draco and his parents were already seated, my mind began to connect a myriad of dots. While force feeding myself yet another detestable mess of breading and grease, I let my thoughts turn and stretch about in my head. Draco excused himself from the table just as his parents were cleaning their plates and sent me a glance indicating that I was to soon follow. I did so after a few minutes more of pushing my food around on the plate.
Once I entered Draco's room, I found my mouth enclosed by his and our bodies fused in embrace.
"I have had far too little of that these past days," he said.
"As have I," I replied, smiling.
Draco kicked close the door and backed me onto his bed, removing articles of my clothing and his until I felt my back against the feather mattress and trousers about my ankles. I watched the sharp outlines of Draco's face as he climbed astride me and proceeded to kiss all parts of my person. I let the fog of lust overtake my senses as he fetched me off with one hand, removing the last vestiges of clothing with the other and exposing to their afternoon light the endless angles of his naked body.
After I had come to climax, Draco wiped off his hands and lay down beside me.
"Don't feel pressured by any haste, but reciprocity in the near future would be most appreciated," he said, indicating his stiffened arousal. "And seeing as how your mouth has such extraordinary capabilities..." I leered and shifted my body to let my mouth meet the juncture between his legs. Draco began to breathe very rapidly as I engulfed him with my mouth and tightened my lips. When he climaxed after a short while, we lay in one another's arms and talked of things more mundane.
"I fear Parson Quirrell is the most tiresome man alive, just stuttering out his sermons and all. I was quite close to falling asleep. How did you occupy yourself while we were at worship?" Draco asked.
"Oh, nothing in particular. I visited Mister Snape. Something about him was peculiar," I said. Draco raised his eyebrows in interest. "I walked in on him madly sketching a woman by the fork of the Sabine River that runs near by here. And a book was opened before the drawing to that Shakespeare sonnet you are fond of: 'That God forbid, that made me first your slave.'"
"How did the woman look?" he inquired.
"She was very beautiful, although her features were detailed rather roughly. Her hair was fair, and she was wearing a..." I answered.
"A what?" he asked, perplexed.
"A gray gown. Excuse me a moment," I replied quickly. I got out of bed, walked over to Draco's clothes press, and fished out the gray gown from under the false bottom of a shelf. "Could you put this on, please?" He obliged and then stood before me, looking confused. "And brush your hair down about your face?" I continued. Draco took the comb from atop his nightstand and made his hair fall to his chin. I stared at him intently.
"Did you not once mentioned that this gown belonged to your mother?" I asked.
"Yes. But Father once commented that she hasn't worn it ever for almost the twenty years they have been married. What is your implication?" Draco responded.
"Draco, clad as you are, you bear a strong resemblance to your mother..." I said.
"So I have been told, albeit while more suitably outfitted," he replied.
"But you are the spitting image of the subject of Mister Snape's drawing," I finished. "The setting of which, according to him, took place many years prior."
"So by deductive reasoning and accepted systems of logic, we may infer...?" he asked uneasily.
"Many things, but first and foremost why your mother no longer wears that rather fetching gown," I replied.
Draco looked pensive. "I never took Mother to be one for adultery. Nor Snape for one so romantic. But it makes sense, I suppose. Mother tells me she met Father through Snape, when Snape escorted her to Aunt Bellatrix's debut. And I have seen letters of their correspondence while rifling through Mother's things for combs and the like. That I suspected a relationship astounds me," he said.
"Do you think your father knows of the extent of their affair?" I wondered.
"Likely not. He would have never hired Snape if so, purely out of jealousy. Mother is likely the only reason Father even took him on, considering the questionable circumstances under which Snape left Mister Voldemort's employ," Draco said.
"What a curious matter is this all, these sheer amounts of drama and intrigue shoved into our small lives," I mused.
"But the near absurdity is a thing to be embraced, I feel. The very moral chaos is rather splendid, you must admit," he responded.
"Indeed, but I would rather that we two were normal and had not such complex lives," I said.
"God did not grant us simple lives. Would you exchange our love for that?" he asked.
Draco kissed me. "Never," I whispered, smiling.
"Then get you back to bed, lovely boy," he commanded with a smirk. "It isn't fitting that intrigue should interrupt our pleasure."
I smiled again and let Draco push me back onto his bed, he still wearing his mother's gown.
Replies to reviews:
madam-malicia: While same-sex marriage in Amerindian tribes was not universal, I learned that it did occur in some tribes. You learn some interesting things in United States History, eh?
SheilaB: Perhaps I'll make it into an original novel, someday. But it's lovely to have characters to work with already. Thanks!
Many thanks also to pari106, Artemis Astralstar, Sir/Lady Lupin, Venus Aeternus, and GaBrIeLa2 for their lovely reviews. And please, please review if you haven't, kids. It makes my day when you do. Thanks for reading!
"What do you intend to do after the wedding, Mister Potter?" Lucius asked.
"The wedding?" I repeated, caught off-guard.
"Surely our son had informed you that she will marry Miss Parkinson in a few week's time?" he questioned.
"Oh, yes," I replied. "He had. I must admit I do not know. I shall likely return to my Godfather in Delaware and search for another tutoring position."
"A worthwhile endeavor for a body to pursue," he commented.
"Three weeks is rather short notice for a wedding, is it not?" I asked after a few minutes' silence.
"Indeed," answered Narcissa. "Ideally, we would have months to prepare for such an event, but varied, ah, circumstances prevent such. However, both we and the Parkinsons have planned for Draco and Miss Parkinson's marriage since their childhoods. Why, Pansy completed her trousseau two years ago!" I gave an appropriate reaction of pleased surprise. Draco looked at me, and his eyes were filled with a sense of conspiratal contentment.
As the week passed, the further unfurlings of our plans gave me in their wonderful imminence a sense of ease, as though I were entrusting my future and its happiness to a higher power, below the Almighty and above myself: love. I was expected to conduct fewer lessons, as Draco was finding himself further committed to wedding preparations, engagement festivities, and, of all things, hunting lessons. Having more idle hours, I spent more time with Snape, talking of classical drama and the like.
That Sunday, as Draco and his family were at worship, I went to Severus's house with some annotations on Aristophanes. I slowly opened the door, bemused as to why he had not answered my knock. As I entered, I witnessed Severus at his dining table, sketching madly. I could come no closer, for he noticed my presence and rose to greet me.
"I apologize for not answering the door, but I was lost in thought," Severus said. "Have you breakfasted?" I nodded. "Ah, well, I'm sure you would not object to another pot of coffee. Excuse me." He went into the kitchen and started a fire in the stove. The smell of brewing coffee began to reach the sitting room. As Severus busied himself in the kitchen, I walked furtively to the table, curious as to what had so distracted him earlier.
Upon the table was an unfinished drawing of a beautiful woman reclining by the stream that ran through the plantation. Her hair was crudely colored with some smeared yellow flower petals; her dress was more carefully indicated as gray by a bit of charcoal. Near the drawing lay an opened book, the page of which I recognized as the Shakespeare sonnet
That God forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure.
O let me suffer (being at your beck) Th' imprisoned absence of your liberty, And patience tame to sufferance, bide each check, Without accusing you of injury.
Be where you list, your charter is so strong, That you your self may privilege your time To what you will, to you it doth belong, Your self to pardon of self-doing crime.
I am to wait, though waiting so be hell, Not blame your pleasure be it ill or well.
I moved to study the picture again when I heard Severus's footsteps growing closer to the kitchen's threshold. I quickly moved away from the table just as he appeared, bearing the coffee service. He poured me a cup, and I began to drink it, but I was still achingly curious as to whom the woman in the drawing was, and why her relations with Severus were so fraught with despair and unrequited passion.
"I noted your fervor in artistry as I entered," I mentioned with all the idle innocence I could muster.
"I had a powerful dream yesternight that reminded me of a pleasant day almost a score years past, and I felt need to put it upon paper," he replied. "But mind not my dreams; you have brought with you papers that are surely of more interest."
I brought out my annotations, and he and I discussed my interpretations of "Lysistrata."
"I pray that if our country descends into battles that our women would come to such a clever solution as these Greek women," Severus commented.
"What of their men?" I blurted impulsively.
"What ever do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean, I mean that the Greek men were notorious for their penchant for, ah, sodomite acts," I replied. "Would they not seek an alternative in one another?"
"Ah, I see what you mean," he said. "Perhaps they did indeed. Or perhaps their companions too abstained towards the cause of peace. Though I could never surely know, I assume that such must have occurred."
I nodded, still blushing slightly.
"Mister Potter," Severus continued. "Your humors are far easier to discern than I believe you are aware." I stammered some justification. "Oh, no, don't worry." He paused, looking casually aslant. "Every man has his cross to bear. At least some may find happiness in theirs rather than sorrow or pain." He was silent for a few minutes and closed his eyes.
"The nature of your relationship towards Master Malfoy as well as the nature of his towards you is evident." My eyes widened in fear. "To none else save myself, mind you," Severus assured me. "I have spent so many years watching others that every glance or lingering touch is naked and blaring. Your love reminds me of the one time I too permitted myself to fall in love: the joys despite the secrecies. My romance ended unpleasantly; I hope yours does not take my course. It is the worst of torments upon losing your beloved to then be near her always, with no safe place to conceal forever your ardor."
I began to ingest these words when the lunch bell rang. I took my leave of Severus and went towards the main house. Upon entering the dining room, where Draco and his parents were already seated, my mind began to connect a myriad of dots. While force feeding myself yet another detestable mess of breading and grease, I let my thoughts turn and stretch about in my head. Draco excused himself from the table just as his parents were cleaning their plates and sent me a glance indicating that I was to soon follow. I did so after a few minutes more of pushing my food around on the plate.
Once I entered Draco's room, I found my mouth enclosed by his and our bodies fused in embrace.
"I have had far too little of that these past days," he said.
"As have I," I replied, smiling.
Draco kicked close the door and backed me onto his bed, removing articles of my clothing and his until I felt my back against the feather mattress and trousers about my ankles. I watched the sharp outlines of Draco's face as he climbed astride me and proceeded to kiss all parts of my person. I let the fog of lust overtake my senses as he fetched me off with one hand, removing the last vestiges of clothing with the other and exposing to their afternoon light the endless angles of his naked body.
After I had come to climax, Draco wiped off his hands and lay down beside me.
"Don't feel pressured by any haste, but reciprocity in the near future would be most appreciated," he said, indicating his stiffened arousal. "And seeing as how your mouth has such extraordinary capabilities..." I leered and shifted my body to let my mouth meet the juncture between his legs. Draco began to breathe very rapidly as I engulfed him with my mouth and tightened my lips. When he climaxed after a short while, we lay in one another's arms and talked of things more mundane.
"I fear Parson Quirrell is the most tiresome man alive, just stuttering out his sermons and all. I was quite close to falling asleep. How did you occupy yourself while we were at worship?" Draco asked.
"Oh, nothing in particular. I visited Mister Snape. Something about him was peculiar," I said. Draco raised his eyebrows in interest. "I walked in on him madly sketching a woman by the fork of the Sabine River that runs near by here. And a book was opened before the drawing to that Shakespeare sonnet you are fond of: 'That God forbid, that made me first your slave.'"
"How did the woman look?" he inquired.
"She was very beautiful, although her features were detailed rather roughly. Her hair was fair, and she was wearing a..." I answered.
"A what?" he asked, perplexed.
"A gray gown. Excuse me a moment," I replied quickly. I got out of bed, walked over to Draco's clothes press, and fished out the gray gown from under the false bottom of a shelf. "Could you put this on, please?" He obliged and then stood before me, looking confused. "And brush your hair down about your face?" I continued. Draco took the comb from atop his nightstand and made his hair fall to his chin. I stared at him intently.
"Did you not once mentioned that this gown belonged to your mother?" I asked.
"Yes. But Father once commented that she hasn't worn it ever for almost the twenty years they have been married. What is your implication?" Draco responded.
"Draco, clad as you are, you bear a strong resemblance to your mother..." I said.
"So I have been told, albeit while more suitably outfitted," he replied.
"But you are the spitting image of the subject of Mister Snape's drawing," I finished. "The setting of which, according to him, took place many years prior."
"So by deductive reasoning and accepted systems of logic, we may infer...?" he asked uneasily.
"Many things, but first and foremost why your mother no longer wears that rather fetching gown," I replied.
Draco looked pensive. "I never took Mother to be one for adultery. Nor Snape for one so romantic. But it makes sense, I suppose. Mother tells me she met Father through Snape, when Snape escorted her to Aunt Bellatrix's debut. And I have seen letters of their correspondence while rifling through Mother's things for combs and the like. That I suspected a relationship astounds me," he said.
"Do you think your father knows of the extent of their affair?" I wondered.
"Likely not. He would have never hired Snape if so, purely out of jealousy. Mother is likely the only reason Father even took him on, considering the questionable circumstances under which Snape left Mister Voldemort's employ," Draco said.
"What a curious matter is this all, these sheer amounts of drama and intrigue shoved into our small lives," I mused.
"But the near absurdity is a thing to be embraced, I feel. The very moral chaos is rather splendid, you must admit," he responded.
"Indeed, but I would rather that we two were normal and had not such complex lives," I said.
"God did not grant us simple lives. Would you exchange our love for that?" he asked.
Draco kissed me. "Never," I whispered, smiling.
"Then get you back to bed, lovely boy," he commanded with a smirk. "It isn't fitting that intrigue should interrupt our pleasure."
I smiled again and let Draco push me back onto his bed, he still wearing his mother's gown.
Replies to reviews:
madam-malicia: While same-sex marriage in Amerindian tribes was not universal, I learned that it did occur in some tribes. You learn some interesting things in United States History, eh?
SheilaB: Perhaps I'll make it into an original novel, someday. But it's lovely to have characters to work with already. Thanks!
Many thanks also to pari106, Artemis Astralstar, Sir/Lady Lupin, Venus Aeternus, and GaBrIeLa2 for their lovely reviews. And please, please review if you haven't, kids. It makes my day when you do. Thanks for reading!