Chapter Five - Doorknob Snakes

Severus Snape had retired from teaching and moved to a little house in the country, with a garden in which he grew herbs and plants for the potions that he sold. Harry had never seem him actually at work in his garden, but couldn't imagine that he'd let anyone else tend it. He probably had a ward letting him know when anyone approached, Harry realised, and he had a sudden mental image of Severus rushing inside before he was caught toiling in the great outdoors.

Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought of Severus hiding his gardening habits from visitors, although his smile faded slightly at the sight of Severus's scowl as he opened the door to his cottage. In an instant he became Snape again in Harry's mind. It was always like this, the two of them trying to get to know each other as Harry and Severus, but with Potter and Snape getting in the way. Severus though, never called him Potter, choosing instead to only recognise the name Lily had given her son.

"Draco, Harry, always a pleasure," Severus said, his dry voice at odds with his words of welcome.

"Severus, thank you for seeing us," said Draco, "and it is good to see you again."

"How is your mother, Draco?" asked Severus

"She is well, and sends her thanks for the new Calming Draught you sent," Draco said. Severus nodded in acknowledgement and showed them in. His home was dark, and the rooms small, yet it looked comfortable, and Harry knew that in the evening with the fire lit, he might even go so far as to describe it as cosy. Although not within Severus's hearing.

"So, Harry, I understand that you are having... issues with your house?" Severus asked, once they were sat in his small parlour. He pushed his hair away from his face, and sat back.

"Yes, I am. It seems that the house – the wards, that is – don't recognise me fully as a member of the Black family," Harry said, looking over to Malfoy to check that he'd got it right. Malfoy nodded, and Severus frowned. "There have been some accidents – mostly things falling on top of me. Like chandeliers," said Harry.

"I've checked the whole house for Dark intent, every stick of furniture for curses, and there is nothing present to explain these accidents," said Malfoy.

"And the wards?" prompted Severus.

Malfoy sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "I've only really just got started on those," he said.

"Remember what I taught you, Draco, and tell me what you know," said Severus.

"You taught Malfoy Curse-Breaking?" asked Harry, confused enough to interrupt.

"No," said Severus, "I taught how to think, how to work methodically. It was a lesson you never seemed too keen to learn." Harry's face heated at his words, but at the same time, he knew how Malfoy prided himself on his logical approach. He had to admit that he actually quite admired him for it: it was so different to his own approach, which was mostly based on his gut feelings and diving in head-first.

"I– I wish I had listened," he said quietly. Severus's expression changed, softening as he looked at Harry.

"You might have made a good student, Harry, had things been different," he said. And in that moment, Harry thought of him as the Severus who had been his mother's friend. He smiled and nodded, then turned his attention back to Malfoy. Whatever explanation Malfoy had been about to deliver was lost though, as he stared between the two of them with his mouth hanging open.

"I don't think that is anything I ever thought I would see," he said.

"No more strange than you turning up here with Harry in tow in the first place," said Severus. "And I thought that I'd taught you well enough that a little interruption wouldn't halt the flow of your thinking: please, tell me what you have ascertained so far."

Harry listened as Malfoy outlined everything he had done so far. Hearing it as a set of logical steps, and hearing the thinking behind each of Malfoy's decisions made it all seem so obvious.

Harry squirmed slightly as Malfoy described how little Harry had done to the house at Grimmauld Place in the time that he had lived there.

"... and the most interesting thing about the fact that the decor remains unchanged, is that there are snakes everywhere," said Malfoy, pausing and giving Severus a meaningful look

"I see," said Severus slowly, "and presumably Harry is still a Parselmouth?" he asked.

"Yes, I am," said Harry, feeling the need to remind them both that he was still there.

"And yet you haven't tried this already?" asked Severus.

"Not yet," said Malfoy. "But I had planned to."

"How remiss of you not to have attempted to communicate directly with this symbol of so much the Blacks stood for! You had a unique opportunity here, Draco," said Severus. His chin was held high, and he regarded Malfoy down the length of this nose. Suddenly he was the disappointed Potions teacher, familiar yet shocking, because Harry had never really seen him talk to Malfoy like this before. He found himself wanting to protect Malfoy, shield him from Severus's – no Snape's – ire somehow.

"I, er, think that Malfoy finds it... difficult when I speak Parseltongue," Harry said.

"Oh, really?" asked Severus, "How interesting." Malfoy met his gaze for a moment, and then he flushed and looked away. "No!" Severus said, as if shocked by something he had seen, in an accidental flash of Legilimens perhaps. He recovered himself quickly though. "Oh for– you try an old teacher exceedingly. You two were difficult enough to deal with at school: two of the most stubborn boys I've ever had the misfortune to teach. I do not want to imagine what you could achieve together." Harry was puzzled at this horror at the idea of he and Malfoy being friendly.

"Surely it's a good thing, Severus, that Malfoy and I are becoming friends: isn't it time the grudges of the past were put behind us?" he asked.

"Yes, but this is..." he trailed off and closed his eyes. "I don't know if I can muster the energy to care."

"Potter," said Malfoy, a slight tremor in his voice, "you really think we could be friends?" Harry stared at him. He felt a thrill as he met Malfoy's eye, nodded, and smiled.

"And yet you both still call each other Malfoy and Potter?" asked Severus. Harry and Malfoy looked at him then back at each other and nodded, because what else would they call each other? Potter and Malfoy were their names. Severus shook his head. "I have a feeling that you two—" he stopped. "You two will have to work this out for yourself."

"So, Severus," said Malfoy, clearing his throat, "the wards: do you have any suggestions?"

"I have a few ideas, but I don't think that you will like what I have to say." Severus sat back in his high-backed armchair. Privately, Harry liked to refer to it as his throne: it had that kind of an air about it. "Firstly, you will have to overcome your... objection to Parseltongue, and together with Harry try talking to the house." Harry suddenly realised that of course, Parseltongue was what Malfoy had meant by 'talking to the house'. "Secondly, I would recommend that Harry is not in the house without Draco also being present."

"There's something else, isn't there?" asked Malfoy, after looking intently at Severus for a moment,

"Yes, well, it depends on how much you know about wizarding inheritance law," Severus said.

"Sirius left me number twelve. And he was my godfather, too," said Harry.

"I know," said Severus, "but it's not always that simple. These old wizarding families often specified that property had to pass down to an 'heir of the body', and no matter what a will says, this can take precedence. Given your experiences, and the number of years which have passed, incident-free, it sounds as if the lines are somewhat blurred in your case. It is certainly most interesting that Draco feels some connection to the wards. Speak to the snakes, and find out what you can." He paused, and looked between them with a half smile. "Of course, in days gone by, when securing the property was more important than personal feelings, there would have been one other solution."

"Oh yes?" asked Harry, but Malfoy was already turning pale.

"A union between an heir from elsewhere along the family tree, and the person attempting to claim the house," Severus said.

"I don't understand," said Harry.

"You might have considered bonding with Draco," said Severus.

"What, like marriage?" asked Harry. "That's a little extreme!"

"I know," said Severus, "But leaving aside any notion of union, it might be worth exploring how important the family tree – the tapestry itself – is in all this. And do not forget your own godson: the house may more naturally pass to him, if that is in any way acceptable to you."

Harry didn't know what to say in reply. He was used to Severus challenging the way he thought about things, but this was... he needed some time to think this through.

o~O~o

Grimmauld Place was fast running out of places to sit and talk, with both the kitchen and dining room out of commission. Harry and Malfoy sat together in the drawing room.

"I think that if I haven't figured out all the wards by the end of the weekend, I should move in here until the job is finished," said Malfoy. "You're going back to work on Monday, and although there is much I can do by myself, really I need to examine how the wards interact with you in particular. I could do it in the evenings, and if we are both sleeping here it will give us more time to work on the wards. Hopefully this way it won't disrupt your life as much." He frowned. "To be frank, this is looking to be one of the longest jobs I've taken on so far, and I want to do as much as I can to finish it sooner rather than later."

"Am I that difficult to be with?" asked Harry, unsure of whether he should feel affronted or not; he had thought that they were getting on fine.

"No – far from it, actually. I just– it's a matter of professional pride," said Malfoy, and the way he lit up when he mentioned his job, as ever, filled Harry with wonder that the boy he'd known had become this man.

"So you will stay here, so that you can get the job done quicker and so that I can return home?" asked Harry, wanting to make sure that he'd understood correctly.

"Yes, and if I'm here you can move back in at the same time: as long as I'm in the house, you'll be safe. I promise, Potter, I won't let you get hurt again," Malfoy said. His eyes flicked over to Harry's shoulder, then back to Harry's face. There was a tightness around his eyes that Harry hadn't seen before, and he wanted to reach over and smooth it away. He didn't though – it felt like a distance he would never be able to cross.

"I'm fine," he said instead. "And okay, if this is still not resolved by tomorrow evening, you can stay and I'll move back in.

"Good," said Malfoy. "I think that it's time to go speak to the house," he said, and stood up. "Come along, we don't have all day."

"Will you be okay, with the Parseltongue I mean?" asked Harry as he stood.

"Yes!" said Malfoy. "You do keep going on about it. I'll be fine."

"But Voldemort—"

"It doesn't scare me, if that's what you think. You know, you're nothing like Voldemort was, so don't think that you can possibly remind me of him," said Malfoy with some amusement. His smile was self-deprecating as he met Harry's gaze. "I promise you, when you're hissing away like a snake, he's the last thing I think of."

"So where do you want to start?" Harry asked, choosing to accept Malfoy's reassurances.

"I've been thinking about wards, and how by nature they are set to guard a home. I think we need to start with the doors."

"The doorknobs!" said Harry.

"Exactly," said Malfoy.

They began with the drawing room door. Harry focused on the twisted metal snake, curled around itself and worn to a shine where hands had grasped it over the years.

"Serpent, do you hear me? It is time to wake, as I have questions to ask," Harry hissed. He listened carefully, in the quiet of the house, to hear if there was a response, but all he could hear was Malfoy's rather shaky breathing. He turned to ask him to shush a little, but stopped at the sight of half-lidded eyes, unfocused, and lips just parted.

Oh. His own breath caught, and he decided to try something out. "You look like sex on a stick with your mouth just waiting to be touched like that," he said, and he was rewarded with a bloom of colour spreading across Malfoy's cheeks, and a soft intake of breath.

"I am not accustomed to being addressed in such a manner," a cool metallic voice answered. Harry tore his eyes away from Malfoy, and stared at the doorknob. The snake had uncurled its body enough to pull its head up, and eyes ashine with the dull glow of worn brass regarded him, as a tiny tongue flickered in the air.

"What do you want to ask the snake?" whispered Harry. The snake's head swayed gently, side to side, as it watched them. Malfoy cleared his throat. For a moment, he seemed lost for words.

"Ask it if it knows who we are," he said. Harry glanced over at him, but now Malfoy's eyes were fixed on the snake.

"Do you know me?" asked Harry. The snake moved its head closer to Harry, its tongue tasting, smelling, the air around him.

"You are the not-heir, the one who lays claim to this house, but you are not of this house. Yet you speak with snakes and there is something... You confuse the house. We snakes will recognise you, Parselmouth, but we are not the entirety of the house."

"And my companion?"

"The 'sex on the stick'? He is a pureblood, a Black by blood, if not name. The house will obey him over you."

Harry quickly translated everything the snake had said – except the sex on a stick comment, of course – and Malfoy nodded, then stepped back.

"Thank you, serpent, for answering my questions," said Harry.

"Wake me again: it is good to stretch my coils," said the snake, and it slithered back into a tight coil, gave one more hiss, then stopped moving. It was, again, a doorknob.

Malfoy was breathing heavily by now, and turned away as if to collect himself. Or quell an erection, Harry suddenly thought, and the idea of Malfoy aroused, no matter how unlikely, shot like a bolt of lightning straight to Harry's trousers. His own snake perked up at the thought. Harry decided to give Malfoy his moment, as he was in need of his own, and touched his hand to the door to reenter the drawing room. Before he could grasp the knob, the door clicked and swung open. It seemed the snake knew him now.

o~O~o

Harry and Malfoy spent the rest of the day repairing the chandelier and dining room table, and then organising everything they had so far on the wards. Harry sat back and watched as Malfoy read through the inventory, stopping every so often to make notes by the copy of the family tree he had made. Leaning forward, Harry saw that Malfoy had added 'Middle-aged Vegetable Botherer' next to the name Lycoris, and he smiled.

o~O~o

Harry left number twelve in the late afternoon, as he wanted to have some time with his friends; Saturdays were usually Ron-and-Hermione days, and it was going to be his last night staying with them. When he got to their house, he was impressed to see that it now had walls. Ron and Hermione were nowhere in sight, but he found them, sitting under a tree with George.

"If it isn't the returning hero, back from a day battling curses. And Malfoy," called George. His face and body had settled into adult lines over the past few years, and it was strange to see him looking different to Harry's memory of Fred, even if just subtly. Harry sat down next to him, and stretched his legs out, ignoring the small protest from his back, which was indeed still sore, as Parkinson had promised.

"Snape too," said Ron, and Harry sighed.

"Snape?" said George. "Harry, maybe it's you who's cursed, not the house?" Before Harry could say anything though, Hermione spoke up.

"George!" said Hermione. "He's a war hero—"

"It's never stopped me teasing him before," said George, glancing over to Harry.

"Not me," said Harry, exchanging a glance with Hermione. "I think she meant Snape." Hermione nodded.

"Oh," said George, "well if you're going to be like that about it."

"Let's just leave it," said Harry. "Anyway, I have news: I'm moving back to Grimmauld Place tomorrow."

"Already?" said Hermione. "I've enjoyed having someone to wash up with." Harry smiled.

"Is it all sorted then?" asked Ron.

"No," said Harry. "But it seems that I'm safe as long as Malfoy's there, because his mother's a Black. He thinks it's something to do with the wards, and he's going to see what he can do with them tomorrow. He might fix it then. If it doesn't work out though, he's going to stay and keep on at it. And if he's there it means that I can go home."

"He's going to live with you? And you're ok with that?" asked George. Harry shrugged.

"I'll be at work most of the time. And he's not too bad – he's really focused on his work." Harry ignored the look Ron and Hermione shared. "What about you lot?" he asked. "The house is beginning to look like... well, a house."

Ron beamed, and Hermione turned around to look at her home-to-be and let out a happy sigh.

"We're going to put the roof up tomorrow," she said. George and Ron began to explain the plan for getting it up. Hermione had insisted that where possible, Muggle methods were used in the construction of their house. Ron and George however, had been keen to speed things up when they could. Their discussion soon became technical, with some stones and twigs being Levitated as examples for different possible approaches.

"I'm sorry I can't help," said Harry to Hermione. She looked at him without saying anything for a long moment.

"You need a home too," she said in the end, reaching out to pat his leg. It was something she had said before, but this time instead of brushing it off, Harry felt the truth of it resonate.

"I think I do," said Harry, slowly. "I think that once this curse business is over I might actually... you know, do something with it."

"I'm pleased for you," she said. "Maybe having Malfoy around has been a good thing for you," she added, but her words were almost lost as Ron joined in. Behind him, an impressive model of the house wobbled and then fell to the ground.

"See, 'Mione, it's worth us living in that horrible caravan while we build this house, just to get Harry to pull his finger out and finally fix up that old pile of his!" he said.

"Yes, I'm sure that was your only motivation," said George. "Living with my mother was just so much fun, wasn't it?"

"I get on perfectly well with Molly," said Hermione, a little stiffly.

"Well you do now that we've moved out, love," said Ron, giving her a squeeze. "And we really shouldn't underestimate the importance of the—"

"Bookshelves!" George and Harry chorused. Ron grinned and Hermione hid behind her hair, laughing even as she scowled at them. Ron wrapped an arm around her and she snuggled into his side and he gave her a kiss on the head.

"I am looking forward to them," she said, smiling. "And I do so love this place."

"It's ace," said George. "Such a tonic after a busy day at the shop."

By the time Harry went to bed that night, thoughts of his house or Malfoy were far from his mind. In his dreams though, a brass snake reared up and hissed "sex on a stick", while pale cheeks flushed and breath rasped next to him, bringing him to a delicious hum of arousal himself. He could see grey eyes filled with light, and reached out to touch warm skin. He woke in a hastily vanished damp patch, turned on, yet alone.