The scene was set rather nicely, he thought. The mudblood was chained as a filthy pet should be, a rather lovely green collar around his neck. Brought out the color in those frightened eyes. He sat, meek and well-bruised. Nice, even if Draco would have prefered to cut his throat over keeping him alive.

But the mudblood was nothing.

Severus Snape was the important one. Severus Snape was the one that mattered.

His blood boiled when he thought of his old teacher. The head of his house. The only man the Slytherins thought they could trust at a school that had been hostile towards them since day one.

Brilliant. Biting. Fascinating Severus Snape. Draco had found the man unappealing when he first saw him. His father had told him to treat Snape with respect, so he had. He knew what Snape was, but after growing up in his blond and beautiful family with their pure and beautiful friends, Snape had been a rather unwashed and unkempt person to be leading his house.

It hadn't taken Draco long to warm towards him. Anyone who openly called out Harry Potter for what he was was alright in Draco's book.

And as years went on Snape remained a staunch defender of his children, and proved himself a genius in his field. Which was all Draco asked for, honestly. Competency and common sense.

He came to find himself studying potions more and more carefully. He wrote his own papers rather than ordering someone else to do it. He went to Snape after hours for talks, for lessons. He wanted to earn Snape's respect, he found. When he admitted that to his father, out of need to have some sense made of the phenomenon, Lucius Malfoy wasn't surprised.

"The Malfoy's have always had control," he had explained. "When we say jump, people jump. They don't even stop to ask how high. But Severus Snape has power. Similar, in a lot of ways. Yet different. Malfoys make demands to get our way. Severus simply makes his way happen. Those potions of his, they're nothing to be taken lightly. His knowledge of the Dark Arts is enviable. He is to be watched and admired for what he can accomplish."

Draco was satisfied with that. He found himself turning that over in his head, thinking of Snape in the same way he thought of his father. A man who would help him, protect him, and teach him ultimate power. .

Draco respected him and admired. He found the man to be...attractive. Not that he would have ever tried to seduce his teacher. There were too many young and beautiful partners around. But once he left he had dreams. Fantasies.

Even after the horrible truth came. After Snape ran away and proved everything he and his father had believed about him was rubbish. Even then Draco had dark dreams of hunting the man down, of making him beg for mercy, for Draco's forgiveness. And, yes, sometimes for his cock.

He never came as hard as from the image of Severus Snape on his knees, surrendering himself entirely in the face of Malfoy power.

And there...he was nearly hard in his anticipation. There was the realization of those fantasies, all thanks to that simple-minded child in the corner.

Draco had been content to hide and rule over the pathetic remnants of the Dark Lord's forces. He wasn't the senior, by far, but Rabastan Lestrange was completely unstable, and most of the Russians had run to hide. Karkaroff had even surrendered.

Draco had the control, the confidence, to lead those left. There wasn't much to say about them. They needed a grand act, a rallying force. Freeing their Lord was the untilmate goal, but when their eyes at Hogwarts had reported Severus Snape alive and well, and shacking up in his quarters with some filthy Mudblood, Draco set his sight there.

Snape would be a powerful force to have back on their side, and Draco was skilled with the imperios curse enough to know he could own the man. The pet Mudblood he was shagging had some idiotic habit of walking unarmed and alone at all hours of night and day outside the walls of the castle. Too easy.

He looked to the clock on the wall. "It's time," he said out loud, his voice trembling. Finally, the realization of a dream. The payback for believing in a traitor. The end to those fantasies.

"Draco, please..."

He turned a smirk to the Mudblood. The boy felt it was appropriate to call Draco by his first name, simply because they had been in the same year at Hogwarts.

He lofted his wand, twirling idly. "Please what?"

Finnigan flinched back, paling, chain dragging on the floor with a delightful metal scrape. Fear in his eyes, yet he somehow had the stupidity to continue speaking. "He won't come. He's more important than me."

"He will." Draco looked to the floo, confident. "He won't leave a challenge unanswered. He has too much pride."

In answer to his words there was a wooshing noise, like a sudden hard breeze that vanished as soon as it came.

There he was.

Draco's spine tingled. He sauntered towards the Mudblood, for a moment hardly looking at the new arrival.

"Malfoy." That voice, low, oddly hoarse.

Draco looked down at his pet Mudblood and grinned at the absolute fear in his eyes. "See?"

Finnigan's attention was on Snape. "No! Severus, please! It doesn't matter, I'll not-"

"Shut up!" Snape's voice was a cold snap.

Draco's skin pricked. Delightful.

Finnigan fell into silence, shaking his head in denial.

Draco dismissed the boy, looking finally on his old teacher. He looked different. The long hair had been such a defining feature, yet the shorter hair suited him. "The years have been kinder to you than they should have."

A familiar smirk spread over that face. "One long vacation." Snape's eyes flitted to Finnigan for a moment. He held out his hand, in which he held a large glass pitcher. The portkey. "He is free to leave, then?"

"Empty your pockets. Remove your robe." Draco's voice came, slow and soft.

"I gave my word, Malfoy." But he turned out his pockets and unfastened his robe, leaving him in a simple starched shirt and slacks.

"Should I pat you down?" Draco asked with a lazy smile.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "He is free to leave?" he repeated simply.

"I gave my word." Draco repeated Snape's words cheekily.

Snape strode over, his walk the same as it ever was. He held the pitcher out to the boy without a word or much of a glance.

Draco felt a sense of satisfaction. He was right, then. The boy was nothing but a shag.

The boy stared at Snape for a long time, not reaching for the pitcher.

"Finnigan. Try to be less of an idiot than usual." Snape's voice held nothing warm.

Draco smirked.

Shaking hands reached up, and green eyes watered as he took the pitcher.

He was gone an instant later, sparing the two Slytherins from witnessing pathetic tears.

Draco waved his wand towards the fireplace. The floo became inactive, warded under his password. No apparation was possible.

Snape was his.

He moved to one of two armchairs near the fire. "Now that we're alone, I have"

"Sorry, Malfoy." Snape's voice was suddenly different. Gruff and familiar, but...

Not Snape.

He wheeled around, wand in the air.

But Snape simply grabbed his own shirt front, and the wooshing of a portkey took him out of the room. Out of sight. Out of his grasp.

Draco's hand clenched so tightly around his wand it splintered.

Snape watched from his bed as Seamus appeared. He breathed in, hand fisting in the sheet at the sight of bruised, purple skin.

The rush of rage that threatened was stomped down just as quickly when he saw the look on his young lover's face, the tears in his eyes as he clutched what must have been a portkey to his chest.

He cleared his throat. "Seamus."

Seamus's head came up, whipping around. His eyes caught on Snape. He dropped the pitcher to wipe his eyes and looked again. "Severus!" He shot to his feet, but wavered. His skin went white.

Snape stood. He moved carefully to Seamus's side and put an arm around his waist. "It's alright. Take it easy." He led the young man to the nearest cot. "It was a trick. They planned it without my knowledge."

Seamus looked up at him, and Severus was shocked by the naked and pure need on his face. "I thought..." He shook his head and threw himself into Snape's arms.

Severus sank to the bed, clutching the boy. His eyes shut and he breathed in as newly unfamiliar warmth started to seep into his limbs. He hugged Seamus to him, shaking from weakness and an overwhelming relief. "Seamus..."

Hands clutched around his back, fisting his shirt desperately. Seamus buried his face in Severus's chest, breathing so fast it sounded unhealthy. "Severus. Severus." He said his name, over and over again, as if it was as necessary as breathing.

Snape's eyes burned. He wasn't alone anymore. The boy hadn't died. His quarters would have life. The tub would be run. The bed would be slept in. The potion...

He breathed in and called out in a croak, "Poddy!"

The house elf popped into being, and his face contorted into a smile that threatened to break his skull in half. "Seamus Finnigan!"

Seamus didn't answer, clinging to Severus without letting up for a moment.

Poddy beamed at Snape. "What is Poddy doing for you?"

"In my quarters there is a potion brewing. Fetch me a gobletfull and bring it here quickly."

Poddy popped away in mid-nod.

Seamus laughed against Snape's shirt. "One track mind," he said with a tremor in his voice.

Snape threaded fingers through familiar, if dirty, blond hair. He shut his eyes again. "One track entirely," he confirmed.

There was a quiet sound, and he opened his eyes to see himself standing in the middle of the ward. He smiled shakily. Lupin wasn't bad. He even held himself with that bolt stiff spine Snape was so given to.

Lupin turned to them, the open concern on his face strange on Severus's own features, as was the wide, relieved smile when he saw them.

Snape wanted to be furious. Had been, when Albus had told him. If he had any strength he would have gone after the werewolf.

He should have mustered up some of that anger. He should have glowered at the audacity of Remus to steal Polyjuice, steal his hair, steal his mission to rescue his lover.

But he couldn't shake the faint smile he could feel on his lips. And when he opened his mouth all he managed to do was mouth the words thank you.

When he spoke, it was soft and directed at Seamus. He kept petting the boy's hair even as he looked to Lupin, who was already starting to sprout grey hairs. "I've made a couple of changes you should approve of."

Seamus pulled back at that, drawing Snape's full attention again. His face was wet, his eyes radiating a mix of feelings. "Changes?"

"To the potion," Snape added, reaching down to touch light fingers to that face. He frowned when he felt more pronounced cheekbones, and remembered Seamus's weakness when standing. "Are you...?"

Seamus nodded. "Alright," he answered. His eyes dropped, though, and he shivered.

A blanket appeared beside him, held by a now reformed Remus Lupin, looking ridiculous in draping black clothes. Snape took the blanket with another nod of thanks, moving it over Seamus's shoulders and pulling it around him.

Seamus looked over and saw Remus. His eyes widened when he saw what the other man was wearing. "It was you?"

Remus nodded, smiling comfortingly. "I was trying to stay in character. Sorry."

Seamus laughed hoarsely. "A bit too much in character. I thought..." He shook his head, wiping wet trails off his face. "Thank you."

Remus reached out and patted his shoulder. "You're welcome. Now cheer this man up and we'll call it even."

Seamus looked back at Severus and smiled. "My pleasure."

Snape felt a feeling like warmth towards both men. He flashed Remus a grateful look, and turned his focus back to Seamus.

Poddy appeared a moment later, holding a large goblet carefully, both hands wrapped around the stem. "Poddy is bringing!"

Remus reached for it to hand to Severus.

Seamus made a face.

"Hopefully it tastes better. I had time to work on it."

Seamus drank, but pushed it away an instant later with a grimace. "Sorry." His face was pale. "My stomach."

"You haven't been fed," Snape confirmed the guess Seamus's sharper cheekbones had formed.

Seamus shook his head.

"Slow, then." Snape held the goblet, tilting it to Seamus's mouth for a swallow, then pulling it back. He stroked the cool face, studying his lover. Dehydration, perhaps. Hunger. Weakness. Bruises. Nothing they couldn't easily fix.

Still. That fear in Seamus's eyes when he first appeared, and the shivers that wracked him. That was enough to make Snape's stomach clench and his face want to harden. "I'll kill him."

Seamus looked up at him. "Severus."

Snape shook his head. "I've told you before, killing is nothing new to me. I have killed much better people than Malfoy, over lesser offenses than this. All it will do is rid the world of one more parasite."

Seamus studied him. "Not...not yet."

Snape softened at that. "No. Not yet. He will be there waiting, once the Dark Lord is destroyed. " Either that or he would be dead, along with Snape and all the rest of them.

"Don't worry about it." He fed Seamus another swallow of the potion. "Just rest for now." His eyes caught on a purple spot on Seamus's jaw. There were more on the other side. He reached out and gently fit his fingers over the smaller marks, as if about to grab Seamus's chin and force his head somewhere it didn't want to go.

He breathed in, seeing red at the sides of his vision. "He touched you."

Seamus swallowed, pulling back from the hand on his face. "It's alright."

Severus hesitated, looking into bright green eyes and warring between warmth and hatred. He shook his head, fighting both feelings with the confusion that still came, after all this time, whenever love caused him to feel something so powerfully.

He had never known how much different it was to feel for another person. He had thought his feelings for Sirius Black counted as hatred, but he knew now what true hate was. He sneered at Black, and resented. But if he saw Malfoy, when he saw Malfoy, he would kill. No questions asked.

"You were right, you know." It was a revelation to him, mostly because he should have seen it sooner.

Seamus leaned in, still trembling minutely. "About what?"

"That rubbish you told me once. About how emotions that come from love are the strongest." He wondered about saying that, about the admission it really was. Seamus loved him and was very vocal about it. Snape...he wasn't comfortable with the word. He had laughed it off for too long to say it with seriousness now. But he knew where this intense anger came from, and the warring feelings when he looked at his bright-eyed, warm, accepting lover. "I suppose you must have been right."

Seamus pulled back. He breathed in, eyes going brighter with moisture. "Yes, I suppose I must have been." A shaking hand came up, stopping before touching Severus's face. He leaned in, falling against Severus and wrapping him in another tight hug, nearly upending the goblet of potion.

Snape stroked his back, his hair. Fine, then. It was love. He lay his cheek on Seamus's hair and shut his eyes, and accepted it.