Title: These Bare Eyes
Summary: With Voldemort Gone, not all of Hogwart's Problems are solved. After spending the summer getting to know each other, the Ministry is once again reluctant to let well enough alone. Regardless of the fact that Severus finds himself distraught by Lucius' simple question, Harry confused by Draco's affectionate behavior, and Draco left with the impossible task of trying to figure out how to be a werewolf and a boyfriend at the same time.
Warnings: Slash, meaning boyXboy. sex, violence, mentions of non-con and child abuse
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Severus/Lucius
Author's Note: Here's the part three that I swore I wasn't going to do, but ended up doing anyway because the ending of These Blooming Hearts was eating at me. It'll only be about 10 chapters long with plenty of fluff for you.
Disclaimer: I am writing this for fun and not profit. I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters therein.
Chapter 1- To be Asked
Harry stared across the entryway of Malfoy Manor, taking in the dried blood smeared across the floor, the dent where Greyback had evidently fallen, the scratches born into the walls. He bit his tongue so he wouldn't shiver; this wasn't about him. It wasn't about his reaction.
Draco's eyes were hooded, his face pale, sweaty. He looked on the verge of passing out. And Harry wondered for the millionth time what the point of coming here had been.
He could still remember Lucius and Severus' face when Draco had proposed the idea, looking over his shoulder at Harry for help that he wasn't about to give. Lucius had been shocked, too shocked to say anything. Severus had been furious. Too furious to say anything, and they'd just stared at each other for entirely too long before anyone had spoken.
"Absolutely not," Severus had said finally, sounding as if he thought Draco had lost his mind. Harry still wasn't convinced he hadn't.
"I just need to know," Draco had answered, annoyed and determined, and Draco had said the same words to him, but it still didn't make sense.
"What could you possibly need to know?" Lucius had asked, and Draco was opening his mouth to respond when Harry had interrupted.
"You know the ministry still isn't happy with any of us," he'd said. It had been a little over four months since they'd defeated Voldemort. The summer was just beginning to finish, snow touching the ground as August drew to a close, and the ministry had officially opened its investigation back into Severus and Draco about halfway through the summer. "It's not a good idea-."
"Since when have you cared about what's a good idea and what's not?" Draco had asked, his voice dangerously close to a snap.
Harry had no idea what the rest of their conversation had been about because he had promptly left after that. More the fool him when he found out that Severus and Lucius were apparently willing to let Draco go off and be an idiot after all.
They'd been cooped up in Hogwarts all summer, neither Draco nor Lucius going back to Malfoy Manor. Every Severus had stayed where usually he would have spent a least a month at his house. Harry didn't bother to ask why. He hadn't thought it mattered.
He hadn't thought it mattered until Draco had insisted that he needed to see Malfoy Manor the week before school was starting up again.
"I told you this was a bad idea," Harry muttered, his eyes still locked onto Draco's face.
His words seemed to catch Draco's attention, because he looked away from the wreckage around them, locking his eyes on Harry with a dark kind of silver-grey annoyance that he hadn't used since before Voldemort had died. Sure, they had argued through the summer, but there had been a strange kind of understanding between them. A need for everything to be alright. Or to at least pretend that it was.
"I needed to know," Draco answered, his voice just as dark, angry. And Harry felt a savage kind of satisfaction shoot through him.
He hated when Draco looked at him as if he was a problem. He loved how he could get a reaction out of Draco at all. He loved how Draco didn't feel the need to coddle him. He hated how the anger was what was comfortable to him.
"You already said that," Harry said.
"Well, you weren't listening," Draco snapped, his voice huffing out between them. And he was visibly angry now, his eyes flashing as he faced across from Harry. And it wasn't that Harry couldn't tell—it wasn't that he didn't care. It was just that he didn't understand.
He didn't understand why the past meant so much to Draco. It wasn't as if he could change what had happened now. All it would do was hurt. It was so much better to let it go. Move on. Forget it.
"Why can't the past stay in the past?" Harry asked, his breath a soft sigh between them.
Draco sighed back at him, flicking his hair out of his face as he stepped closer to Harry, his hand closing around his wrist, squeezing gently.
"The past can still hurt you, even if you don't want to acknowledge it," he said. Harry just shook his head. He wanted to twist his hand around Draco's, to wrap his fingers around Draco's and tug him close, to hug Draco and run his hands along his back until that look of pain and apprehension was out of his silver-grey eyes.
But he didn't know how. It had always been Draco who made the first move. It had always been Draco who encouraged. As idiotic as he knew it sounded, Harry wasn't even sure if he was allowed. He knew Draco wouldn't mind, but that didn't mean he deserved to move and act and pretend as if….
"And what did you learn?" Harry asked.
"That there was nothing I could have done," Draco whispered, leaning forward to rest his head on Harry's shoulder, his fingers squeezing his wrist.
"I could have told you that."
"But I needed the closure," Draco muttered. "I needed to know." Harry didn't say anything. He didn't bother saying anything. He didn't understand, but him understanding wasn't the point. The point was their trip had apparently helped Draco, even if it had frustrated Harry to no end.
"Now, let's get out of here," Draco said, raising his head and smiling thinly. "Let's do something fun for once."
Severus stared down at the silver ring resting innocently on his desk's hard wood surface; the Malfoy crest carved seamlessly alone one side. It fit his finger perfectly—just as Lucius had promised when he'd presented it to him, his face stoic and hopeful all at once.
And Severus hadn't had the heart to do anything but nod as he'd placed the ring on the desk. He'd been able tell Lucius was disappointed that he hadn't put the ring on immediately, but he hadn't said anything.
Which, it wasn't that Severus wasn't grateful for Lucius'…. gift. He just didn't understand the need for it. They were happy, weren't they? Severus was still headmaster, and yes, the Minister was still hanging over his head, but it was hardly as if this was going to fix that. And Lucius was still teaching potions, having become a better head of Slytherin house than Severus had ever been.
They were doing fine. Good. They were doing better than good. Sleeping together on a regular basis. They'd even gone on a real date that had ended entirely too domestic and fluffy with Severus wrapped around Lucius and both of them completely naked. In which no one but themselves ever need know the details.
Severus hardly saw the point in bringing marriage into the equation.
"Are you even listening to me, Snape?" Scrimgeour snapped. He was sitting in the chair across from Severus, scowling as if he had any right to sit there and demand Severus' attention for an unwarranted amount of time every week where he said the same things over and over.
Severus curled his lip, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the Minister. They still wanted him gone, even after he'd been a part of defeating Voldemort. There had been a brief negotiation period where they'd been insufferably polite, but it had boiled down in the end to them not wanting the next generation of Hogwarts students to be taught by former Death Eaters.
Honestly, Severus would have been fine stepping down, stepping away. It had been Lucius who refused. And then the Ministry had gotten Draco and his new status as a werewolf involved, and there had been little else to do, but not so politely tell them he was staying where he was.
They hadn't much liked his answer.
"I'm listening," Severus said, and the Minister's frown grew. He didn't much need this today. What with Harry and Draco out seeing Malfoy Manor and Lucius' proposal hanging over his head. He didn't need a visit from the Minister as well.
"Hogwarts is running as well as it always is," Severus answered, not bothering to take his eyes off the ring. "There's really not much more to discuss."
"I disagree," Scrimgeour answered. "You have yet to give me a satisfactory answer about either Lucius or Draco Malfoy."
"I have answered you, Minister," Severus said. "You just won't accept it."
"Fine," Scrimgeour stood abruptly, his face a hard line. "You leave me no choice but to take certain precautions."
"Really?" Severus answered, but the Minister just stared back at him, hard and impassive. Severus didn't bother to stand as Scrimgeour went back through the Floo, his face set. He'd known this was coming. It had really only been a matter of time before the Minister had decided to take action against him.
He glared down at the ring still sparkling against the wood, his hand clenched hard on the edge of his desk. Hopefully, he'd be able to fight whatever Scrimgeour put against him. It wasn't as if the Wizangamot was particularly eager to convict one of the people who had defeated Voldemort anyway.
Severus sighed at the knock on his door. Three soft raps with a single knuckle. Lucius.
"Come in," he called back. Lucius knew Scrimgeour was coming today. He'd probably been waiting for him to leave. He'd probably been waiting for the right moment to swoop in and check if Severus was wearing his ring now.
Severus could still remember the way Lucius had hovered next to him, his hand closing around Severus' as he'd spoken softly, his voice low and gentle. Severus had looked up at him, Lucius' tone giving away his seriousness.
"I know we haven't been together officially for very long," Lucius had said, and his eyes had shone, silver and bright and careful, his long hair falling down his back in a braid as he stood by Severus' chair. "But I think it's time we were married." And he'd held out the ring, silver and emblazoned with the Malfoy crest as if it was something horribly precious and not… a ring with too many oaths that Severus would have to swear to keep.
Severus stared down at the ring for another second before shifting his gaze back up to Lucius. He stood in the doorway now, his eyes silver and dark with something close to disappointment as he stared at the ring still resting on Severus' desk.
"It went badly?" he asked.
"Obviously," Severus answered as Lucius took the seat opposite him.
When Lucius had asked him, he had been nodding before he really knew what he was agreeing to. Because really, what was the point? There were no parents to force the issue, no people to impress with a big political marriage, no children they needed to have to keep the Malfoy line intact. There was no reason to be married—to change the good thing they already had.
Or at least, there was no reason that Severus could see.
And Severus would have seen it, because if he hadn't that would mean Lucius wanted him for something other than… him.
So, the simple truth was that there was no reason to be married. Lucius obviously just hadn't thought it through. He was simply bound to change his mind before Severus even had to say another word about the arrangement.
Harry stared hard at the back of Draco's head, watching as he looked from one shop to another, point at the window of the broom-shop before turning back to Harry with that half smirk of his that suggested he had something to say about the broom that was displayed.
Draco was clutching Harry's hand in his, his fingers intertwined tightly against the coolness of the August weather. He kept looking back, asking what Harry wanted to do, asking if he was alright with something Draco obviously wanted, tugging him along by his hand as if he had no intention of letting go.
And Harry had no idea what Draco was doing. Sure, they held hands. They'd progressively started holding hands more often, touching more often, touching as much as Harry could stand, touching so much that sometimes he would have to glare at Draco's thigh that wouldn't stop brushing against his until Draco would get the message and move it—leaving Harry embarrassed and annoyed and guilty all at once. But he'd just needed a minute to breathe.
And it wasn't that Draco didn't listen to him on a daily basis, but he'd never bothered to make a point to ask him every five minutes what he wanted. Honestly, it was beginning to grate on Harry's nerves. If Harry didn't like what they were doing, he would let Draco know. Just like he'd always done.
"Harry," Draco sighed suddenly, stopping off to the side of the walkway. A Witch gave them a strange look as she passed, but thankfully just kept walking. Draco finally let go of his hand; Harry's glove feeling cold and compressed without the added weight and pressure. And he was fine with it. Draco turned to face him, his hands fiddling with the scarf wrapped around Harry's neck—as if there was anything wrong with it. "What's wrong?"
"What?" Harry scowled at him, stepping away from Draco's hands.
"Is this really so horrible?" Draco asked.
"I-," Harry turned his head away, feeling confused and pressured and stuck. "I just don't know what we're doing."
"We're going on a date," Draco answered, sounding appalled. As if the answer was obvious. And honestly, Harry couldn't help responding in kind.
"We've been on dates," he said, his voice a cold hiss between them. "They've never been like this."
"Making out on a couch doesn't count as a date," Draco answered, his voice sharp, annoyed. Harry just sighed at him. Why did it matter? Why did they have to go around clutching at each other and pretending Harry was some normal-
"Look, Harry," Draco said, his hands wrapping around Harry's shoulders. He held him at a distance, just that side of too much. Draco had gotten so good at knowing Harry's limits. At catering to Harry's moods, and Harry couldn't even figure out the one thing for him.
No, he had made them stop in the middle of the street while Draco talked him down.
"I know you're probably thinking this is stupid or something, but it's not," Draco said, his eyes silver-grey and intense, and Harry could only stare back at him. "I think this is important."
"Fine," he sighed, the defeat feeling heavy on his tongue as he let Draco smile down on at him. Because honestly, for all the things Draco did for him, he should be able to do one thing for Draco, shouldn't he?
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