Caring for Severus Part III
Severus had little to do for the rest of his first week in Potter's care but to read and think-and frankly, with his shaking hands, reading was often a chore. Several times, Potter was called back to the Ministry, which left Severus with ample time for musing.
Since agreeing to this whole ridiculous arrangement, Severus had decided that, somehow, the boy had become less irritating. Not merely because he had killed the Dark Lord, though that had improved Severus' outlook on all things greatly. There was something relaxed, quiet, assured about him now-Severus supposed it was the first time in Potter's short life where he did not feel hunted, or doomed. It gave him an air of maturity-or at least, he seemed more inclined to think before he spoke.
There was also the little matter of Potter's change of heart regarding Severus himself. He had, in the wake of the revelation of Severus' motives and loyalties, spoken to him, always, with respect, and very often with the same honorifics Severus had fought with him, tooth and nail, to use when he had been Potter's teacher-although now, since Severus was unemployed, they were technically no longer necessary.
Inevitably, Severus found himself turning over in his mind the prospect of allowing a closer association with Potter to form-he struggled even to think a term so saccharine as 'friendship'-apparently, all it took to earn Potter's respect was nearly dying in the war effort.
Truthfully though, Severus took friendship to be a quite serious transaction, however uncomfortable he was with the word. He'd had precious few individuals he could count as friends in his life, and he had-with one bitter exception-always been loyal to them. He began to catalogue ways in which he could be of use to the young man-he had helped Lily acclimate to the magical world, and he had spied for Albus-he wasn't quite sure what he had to give Potter. Maybe if the youth returned to his studies, Severus could offer to tutor him? But then, they had never been at their best when they faced each other in a classroom.
He would have to think on it.
It was much more damnably difficult to think with the persistence of his problem, which was at its worst in the mornings. Potter surprised him that morning by showering him, changing the dressing, and beginning the massage directly after breakfast, which antagonised the problem.
He was contemplating asking Potter to cast an impotence hex, except that repeated use might have long-term consequences...
"I've been meaning to say," Potter began, kneading Severus' thigh in a way that had him biting his lip to avoid a very audible moan, "and you can tell me to shut up if you like, as it's none of my business, but its barely possible for you to wash yourself in the shower, so I'm guessing you haven't, you know...wanked...since your injury."
Severus said nothing. Potter had waded into this awful conversation, Severus had no intention of endangering his own dignity to save him. But the blasted boy pushed on, with bravado:
"That sort of thing, if it builds up, can get painful. Does it hurt?" Here he looked up defiantly into Severus' eye, who glared as best as he was able.
"Hardly the Cruciatus." Severus huffed.
Potter paused for a beat.
Then, in a bit of a rush, he said: "I can help you out, if you like. I'll be touching you there anyway...I'm not trying to be creepy, but I don't mind, either."
Severus frowned. "Are you offering me a 'happy ending', Potter?"
That surprised a snort of laughter out of the boy. "I've heard Seamus call it that-that's what they do in seedy massage parlours, isn't it? But no, really...I'm just being practical. You're going to be sick for a while, and I'll be living with you that whole time, and I don't want to imagine how prickly you'll get after a month or so without it."
"Hmm."
Severus in no way wished to seem eager. Part of his mind was deeply concerned about being that vulnerable in front of another person-even one he was tempted to count as a friend. He also did not like the impropriety of a former student touching him-but that same former student, not twenty minutes ago, had gently rubbed his arsehole, so it was hardly reasonable to become delicate about Potter's student status now.
The practical part of his mind pointed out that there would be many more massages to come, under Potter's care, and nuisance erections would be inevitable.
Then, most humiliating of all, was the eagerness. No one had ever touched Severus in that way but Severus himself. He'd heard that even a hand job from another person was more intense than doing the same to oneself. He rather doubted that anyone else would ever offer-even in the benign context of helping out a friend.
After quite a long silence, he cleared his throat.
"If you do this, Potter, you must swear never to even think about it in the presence of another human being, let alone mention it. I know a great many curses that I have never gotten the pleasure of using." He made his voice as cutting and cruel as he could.
But Potter merely huffed a laugh. "I can't see how this would be anyone else's business."
"Very well."
Potter finished up rubbing the front of his hip, his groin, and lifted the towel. He began to smear unguent on the pelvic bone.
Severus shut his eyes tightly.
Potter made no comment as he began to smooth the unguent over the bulge of testicles, rolling them, firm but gentle. He lingered in the sensual roll of the activity more than in days prior- already, Severus' breath quickened.
Potter added more unguent to coat the shaft and, rubbed at its base. Severus was breathing heavily now, eyes still closed, as the tentative hand began to stroke. It felt good instantly.
Potter's movement rolled up over the top of the cockhead, smearing a glassy drop of pre-come, then back down, pumping in a steady rhythm that grew more rough.
Severus grunted. This was so much, so much more than anything he had done to himself, the tingling tension building everywhere at once. He ground his teeth, trying not cry out.
His eyes fluttered open to see the puckered brow of concentration on Potter's face, his green-eyed gaze fixed on Severus' flushed cock, as though he were trying to produce a passable NEWT level potion.
Seeing that hand slide over Severus' own shaft made him gasp, and a second later, a brief moan escaped him as his semen bubbled over Potter's hand.
Potter, to his credit, didn't drop the member like a scalded cat-he squeezed firmly, then waited a moment for Severus to recover before wiping the mess gently off both his hands and off Severus with the towel.
"Would you like a sleep now?" Was all he asked.
Severus was so blissed out, he could barely nod. "Thank you." He murmured, speech slurring.
Potter pushed his chair into the bedroom, and lifted Severus into the bed.
Severus' last, fleeting thought as he slipped into unconsciousness was vague suspicion about the fact that Potter had given him so much, without yet asking for anything in return.
xxxx
After his nap and some lunch, Severus was reading in his chair when he heard the floo, followed by the sound of heated voices. He touched his hand to his wand, in the pocket of his dressing gown, and resolved to use his rickety feet to pull his wheel chair closer to the door.
"I didn't think I was choosing-" The first voice was exasperated. It sounded like...
"I know, Draco. But I did what I could with Kingsley. They all say it will be no good for any of you if he doesn't-"
The conversation got too quiet to overhear. Muscles shaking with effort, Severus edged his chair forward.
"-it's a shorter sentence than any of the other adult Death Eaters. And there's no dementors anymore. Hermione's got a list an arm long of reforms-"
"—He can't go back to Azkaban for me!" Draco hissed.
"Draco, he's not. He's going because of what he did, and because he used the Imperius excuse to avoid the consequences last time. The public won't stand for that again. Be honest with yourself-you know Lucius only stopped siding with Voldemort because he got a taste of being out of favour. You were different. Something in you didn't like the violence. You were never a real Death Eater that way-and you helped me, you and your mother-and that's why you won't go to Azkaban."
Severus blinked as he absorbed this information: Potter had been managing things to reduce the Malfoys' sentencing? He was on a first name basis with Draco? When had this happened?
Were Draco and Potter friends?
He was just beginning to feel an unsettling flicker in his chest, when something far more startling ensued. He peered through the keyhole in time to see Draco fall, heavily, against Potter's shoulder, and Potter rub a tentative hand in circles on his back.
The blond was sobbing.
Potter muttered nonsense reassurances, even petting the back of his blond head, before shuffling them both over to the couch, where he held Draco for quite some time.
Severus' mind reeled. How in Merlin's name had these two boys, from opposite sides of a war, ended up this close? Potter, after all, had once left Draco sliced open on a bathroom floor. He could no more imagine the scene playing out before him than he could imagine himself embracing Sirius Black!
But the evidence was before his eyes. Potter was, absurdly, now tucking a throw blanket around the blond on the couch, as though to let him sleep off the excess of emotion.
Severus considered himself a man capable of great maturity and adult decision-making. Very few people could have done what he managed as a spy during the war. But here, Potter seemed to have an ability he himself did not.
He seemed able to reach out and care for people simply because they needed it, regardless of how they had ever made him feel. He accepted responsibility for them, for no more reason than he they needed him to.
He'd been proving that, too, in his care of Severus.
Love, my boy. He could almost hear Albus' voice, calling Potter's capacity to love his greatest power.
Severus, of course, had sneered at the time. Now, he was, grudgingly, impressed. This was a side of Potter he didn't think he'd ever seen in his school days. Caring for people-managing them-required subtlety, too-more than he had ever suspected Potter possessed.
"I hope you don't mind, I gave him one of your calming draughts." Potter said as he came through the door. There was no time for Severus to act as though he'd been doing anything other than eavesdropping.
Potter didn't seem to mind.
"It seems a prudent course of action." Severus replied. "Tell me, is this the urgent business you were seeing to at the Ministry?"
Potter looked guilty. "Some of it." He ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to turn your quarters into a half-way house though. I know you're a private man."
Severus gave a shrug with one shoulder. "Mr Malfoy has been to my rooms before."
"Oh." Potter said, and turned away.
Severus frowned. He almost sounded... jealous. Perhaps the rivalry between Potter and Draco was not quite dead-though visiting rights with their old Potions Master hardly seemed worth fighting over.
Potter pushed the wheelchair back into the centre of the bedroom. "He'll probably want to see you when he wakes up. Shall I get you dressed in your teaching robes?"
Severus narrowed his eyes. Potter apparently understood his own need not to appear defenceless. He wondered what else Potter understood about him.
He let Potter dress him, smirking as the youth swore under his breath as he fumbled with the thirteen tiny buttons at his neck. He was mildly surprised when Potter thought to strap the holster for his wand to his wrist beneath the sleeve.
"You're not to actually use this." Potter muttered, sliding the wand from the pocket of his robes into position. "Pomfrey said it would set your healing back. He won't try anything, but if he does, call Choo-Choo. He knows what to do."
"You weren't, by any chance, a Boy Scout in your childhood?" Severus let his lip curve into the semblance of a smile.
Potter huffed a laugh. "No. Never in the Scouts. Moody would've approved of their motto though."
Severus bowed his head at the memory of the strange Auror. "He would."
Potter apparently had duties elsewhere in the castle for the afternoon-he was part of the rebuilding effort. He got a cup of tea for Draco when he woke, then left the two alone.
Draco finished the tea at an affected, leisurely pace, and then came to rest in the doorway between Severus' sitting room and his bedroom. Severus was propped up in his chair by the book rest, so as to appear engrossed in reading.
"It's good to see you, alive." Draco began.
"And you, Draco." Severus returned.
"It's not what I expected." The blond began. "Although...history's most Gryffindor Slytherin, shacked up with its most Slytherin Gryffindor? Perhaps we all should have known."
Severus ignored the obvious poke at his loyalties. "We are not 'shacked up' you impudent brat-Potter is aiding me during my convalescence." Before Draco could score any more points, Severus continued. "And initially, my involvement in the war effort was nothing but Slytherin. I followed him willingly at first, but then, the Dark Lord took something of mine. I resolved to help bring him down as an act of personal vengeance. I saw it through."
Draco blinked at the cold chill in Severus' voice. "It became more than that, though."
"It did. I think, Draco, you yourself found it impossible to bear witness to the Dark Lord's actions without experiencing a change of heart."
Draco, slowly, nodded.
"And whatever our misgivings at finding ourselves awoken in a world where we hobnob with Gryffindors, the alternative-for myself, for you, for your mother-even for Lucius-would have been far more grave."
Draco hung his head. "I do know that."
There was an awkward pause. Then Draco gave a cold laugh. "You were so good though. Father never suspected. Hell, even the Dark Lord never suspected. The consummate actor."
Severus snorted. "The Dark Lord was paranoid-he suspected everyone from time to time. In my case, he was right to suspect." Bellatrix had suspected him too, but now was hardly the time to bring up the boy's aunt.
Draco huffed. "Well, I was thoroughly fooled. I thought you cared about us-I even suspected you were sweet on my mother, and that was why you...called on me in class...helped me...kept volunteering to help me in Sixth Year..."
Severus inwardly sighed. His shameless, empty favouring of the young man had come home to roost. "I am not as blind to your faults as I have pretended, and I did always have-an agenda- in volunteering to help you. But I did quite strongly wish that you would not ruin your life by taking Albus Dumbledore's. I was pleased that you did not. I did what I could to protect you, Draco, and I was...I thought it worthwhile."
There was a pleased light in the boy's eye for a moment, even though his face was passive. Then he shook his head. "It's just hard to process-I feel outraged, on some level, that you were a traitor, but then, you were right, in the end, weren't you? You came out ahead."
"A spy ends with friends on neither side, Draco. Don't romanticise it. I had to kill my closest friend, after all. And where does that leave me?"
Draco's mouth fell open. "Dumbledore was...?" He looked Severus' black robes up and down. "He wore magenta robes! And I've never seen you eat a lemon drop in your life!"
Severus merely raised an eyebrow. "There was more than one 'consummate actor' on staff."
Draco blinked, absorbing that. "You must have some well-placed political friends left, though. You live with the Golden Boy and the Prophet is singing your praises."
Severus frowned. "It is?" Come to think, he hadn't seen a copy of the Daily Prophet in a few days.
Draco scoffed. "They've been running an article about your 'secret heroism that turned the tide of a war' in practically every issue. Is it true that you're getting an Order of Merlin?"
Severus' eyebrows shot up. "I should think it unlikely."
Draco gave a genuine half-smile, which changed his whole face. "Bet it's Potter's doing."
"I was surprised to see you two getting along." Severus let the statement become a question.
Draco blushed and dropped his gaze. "He's been quite decent. To my family."
Severus nodded. Did Draco have a romantic interest in Potter? He'd presumed that Draco was a closet homosexual for years now, but like most purebloods, Draco would be expected to continue repressing, and marry. Besides, Severus had seen little evidence that Potter had anything other than the usual sexual aspirations. He felt compelled to say: "I imagine Potter counts you as a friend now. You know, of course, that he is the sometime paramour of Ginerva Weasley?"
"I doubt it's the youngest Weasel who's got Potter's eye these days." Draco replied, ominously.
"The Weasleys are grieving a lost son, yet he's not moved in with them." The blond looked Severus up and down. "How exactly did this arrangement come about? He clearly hated you all throughout our schooling, and now he can't abide anyone speaking of you with disrespect..."
Severus arched a brow. "Potter's newfound feelings of loyalty are familial, Draco, and nothing more. He recently learned I was a childhood friend of his mother's."
Draco blinked. "That wasn't in the papers."
"Nor would I enjoy it being widely-known." Severus warned him.
Draco nodded.
Curiosity sated, the blond made his exit: "Well, I...thank you, Professor, for helping me in the ways you were able." He said carefully. "You've given me lots to think about. I'd like to count you as a friend in the future, if I may."
Severus briefly curved his lip. He suspected Draco might need his guidance in the future, more than Severus would ever need him. Still, he said, "You may."
Draco gave almost a bow, before heading back to the jar of floo powder.
Severus stared at his book, not reading, for quite a while after Draco had gone. Draco was infatuated with Potter? Further, Draco's affection-addled brain had pondered whether Potter might fancy his greasy old Potions Master, of all people?
He did give you a hand job this morning. A salacious part of his brain supplied. But Severus waved it off. Potter didn't treat him like a besotted ninny. There had been no attempts to flirt, thank Merlin, or ask awkward questions about Severus' sexual preferences. Indeed, Potter knew, although they didn't talk about, the fact that Severus had been in love with Lily his whole life.
Draco was leaping at shadows, then. Although, there was one accusation the Malfoy scion made that might bear some weight.
"Choo-Choo!" He called. "Bring me a copy of today's Prophet!"
xxxx
That evening saw Potter return, covered with mortar dust. He looked like he was aching and desperate for a hot shower. But instead, he dutifully arranged for Severus' dinner, and a cup of tea in the sitting room.
"You seem like you're running yourself ragged." Severus commented.
"It's not that bad, really. Just a lot of things that need doing."
"And they all need you to be doing them."
Potter sighed. "Not really. But sometimes things go more smoothly for people, at the moment, if I'm involved. It's stupid, but if it gets important things done, well..."
"Indeed." Severus yawned. "Important things...like an Order of Merlin?"
Potter flinched. His cup dropped into its saucer.
"Bloody Malfoy told you." He grumbled.
"The Prophet articles told me-he just implied I should read the paper." Severus lied. "And I thought he was Draco, now?"
"He is, usually." Potter muttered.
Severus gave a deep chuckle.
He paused, then said, softly: "The Ministry would not like the optics of giving the OOM to someone like me. What did you have to give them?"
Potter huffed. "Nothing, in the end. Told them I couldn't have done it without you, Mione and Ron, so if they wanted me to get up on stage and smile while they pinned an Order of Merlin, First Class, on me, they'd damn well better give one to you three. Neville, McGonagall and Dobby are going to get an OOM Second Class too."
Severus raised a brow. "Dobby?"
"He was one of the Malfoy's elves until he was freed. He saved my life at the Manor. He died."
Severus responded cautiously to the obvious sombre quality in Potter's voice. "I don't think the Ministry has ever seen the award go to a house elf before."
Potter shrugged. "Mione said it might help her campaign for house-elf rights."
"But you just wanted to honour the memory of...your friend." Severus guessed.
Potter nodded.
"Likewise, you wanted to improve public perception to ensure wizarding society...treated me well?"
Potter nodded again, gaze averted. "Luna helped me write the articles."
"I noticed you were circumspect in the details you advertised." Severus made his voice approving. "No doubt your efforts will make my life away from the castle easier."
"Away from the castle?" Potter fairly squawked. "Where are you going?"
Severus furrowed his brow. "Minerva's unlikely to ask me to leave while I'm in the midst of healing, but once the school re-opens, I'll have to vacate to make room for the teaching staff."
"Why wouldn't you be teaching?"
"Why would I? Potter, despite the public now being appraised of my less-sinister motivations, I still presided over a school that tortured its students. No parent would consent to their child learning from me again."
Potter's voice was small. "Do you not want to teach?"
"What I want doesn't factor into it." Severus retorted. "I am nothing if not a realist."
Potter bit his lip. "You really need to talk with McGonagall. Can I let her know that she can drop in tomorrow?"
"Seeing as you are determined to manage my social calendar, my public image, and most of my bodily functions, I don't see what good protesting would do me." Severus said dryly.
Potter's head drooped. "If you don't want any of it-the Order of Merlin, or, or, whatever-you just have to say so. I will listen."
Severus waved his hand. "Don't look like that. I appreciate what you've done for me, truly. And I don't so thoroughly object to Minerva's company that I can't make my way through afternoon tea."
Potter gave him a shy smile.
xxxx