Draco sneaked a peep at Harry. It was obvious that he was still ruminating about what Snape had told them. He was kneeling quietly, eyes focused on some point of the floor, still as a statue.

Draco didn't think he'd ever seen Harry so still.

It amazed him that so much information that he'd taken for granted was new to the other. He could rhyme off the genealogy of the Malfoys back to his Norman ancestors and beyond. Must be strange not to know anything about one's self beyond a generation or two.

Snape had cast Morpheus on them after his ‘history' lesson. Draco hadn't been pleased about it – he preferred sleeping under his own power, so to speak – but he also didn't want to be awakened again by those screams of Harry's.

Hell! He was going to have to do some serious thinking about the disadvantages of being the Boy Who Lived. Wasn't all fame and glory. He'd never really thought about Harry and his reactions to the deaths around him. If Diggory's affected him that badly...

The morning rituals had been observed. They'd been fed, by Snape again. He was beginning to like that. Gave him some time to play around with those long fingers. He'd caught the small surprise in Snape's eyes that first time and it was a game now to get a smile from the man. Well, not a real smile: more of an ‘I know what you're up to, young man' flicker in those black eyes.

Black eyes watching from under long lashes. Why had he never noticed that before?

Then they'd been ‘unplugged', allowed to shower and use the ‘facility' and then ‘replugged'. Harry, he could tell, wasn't keen on that part, even when those long Snape fingers made it so arousing. On the other hand, he was beginning to wonder what he could do to keep those fingers working away in him. All he'd gotten this morning was another of those quiet chuckles and a soft, "Not yet, brat!" Then Snape had ordered them to kneel while he went and performed his morning ablutions.

Draco had to admit that though he hadn't been all that happy to find himself in the Chamber at first, things – and he didn't just mean sex – were proving to be very interesting. Mind, the sex part was...

OH SHIT!

OH FUCKING SHIT!

Where the hell did Snape get that nipple ring?

Harry's attention was caught by Draco's gasp. He looked up from the small crack in the stone that he'd been staring at, trying to process all the information Snape had given him, trying to fit it in with other things he'd heard over the years. Draco's mouth was open, his tongue almost hanging out. Harry turned his head and...

Bloody hell!

Snape was coming back from his shower, toweling his hair dry. Wearing only his trousers. Fly not fully buttoned so that they rode on lean hips. Not shirted. Not shod. Displaying a physique that...

Harry could feel his cock twitching in approval. He glanced to the side and saw that his was not the only one.

Snape was built on long lines. The shirts he favoured were loose in style, the perfect cover for a chest that was long, lean and with enough muscular development that made his hands itch to touch. Not much hair. A light scattering of dark over the pecs. A solid line that began above the navel and gradually widened as it disappeared past the waistband. Whoever would have thought that under all those clothes was a body that could make him drool!

He glanced down again. Yep, his cock certainly agreed. And as he glanced up again, his eyes caught those long, bony feet. With high arches that made him wonder if Snape could be ticklish there. To the feel of a tongue.

Harry closed his eyes. Shit. Long beautiful feet. Those elegant, long- fingered hands. The nose. Dear god, he suddenly found himself praying, let it be true. Let me be wrong. Not a teeny, tiny penis.

Oh, fuck! It looked like he was queer after all.

Draco felt himself warm as he realised his mouth was still open. Damn it! He'd known this man all his life. How come he'd never realised just how hot Snape was? And that nipple ring. All he could think of was sucking the nipple into his mouth and flicking the small gold ring back and forth with the tip of his tongue.

And what about Snape's cock? Hiding behind the fabric of those dull black trousers. Draco wanted to see it. He wanted to taste it. Hell! He wanted it up his arse in the worse way possible.

With just the right wriggle, Draco settled the end of the butt plug against a heel and rubbed against it. Oh, damn! Not quite right. This morning's plug had been a bit longer than the previous one. Shit, how many more of those before he got to have the real thing where he wanted it?

Snape tossed the towel onto the bed and turned. His brats were staring at him, both flushed, already in varying stages of erectness. He stopped a moment, his hands dropping to his sides, allowing them a full look. He knew that his body had its attractions, though it had been some time since he'd used them to his advantage. Nice to know that they still existed. And that his brats were drawn to them.

Flattering really.

He pretended not to notice their responses, though it was hard not to when Harry suddenly went beet red on glimpsing his nipple ring.

Oh, dear. His little Gryffindor had truly led a sheltered life, hadn't he, all things considered?

Considering the time spent on assignments and the history lesson, Snape decided it was time for a more ‘hands-on' activity.

Fully conscious of those eyes being on him, he went over to Draco's pallet and transfigured it into the massage table. One of the better things about being here in the Chamber, the site of so much of Salazar Slytherin's residual power, was that wandless Magic was so much easier to call up. If one knew how. Snape could only be grateful that Harry, who carried so much raw, untrained, unfocused power within him, hadn't really clued in yet on how to harness that to his advantage. Those attempts of his at the top of the Astronomy Tower were still far too unsophisticated and uncentred to work well. Though he had to give the boy credit: he was using his skill to his best with what he'd been able to learn. Pity that even the Restricted Section of the Library didn't have the books he really needed to read in order to tap fully into that source of power. Something Snape would have to think about much more seriously some time soon.

But not right now. Now was the time for another lesson.

"Draco, on the table, please. Harry, go stand at his head."

He noticed that this time both boys didn't hesitate to do as he asked. Draco, in fact, looked particularly keen. Always ready to learn, that one.

"Face up, Draco."

Snape felt his instructor mask come on. It had the wanted effect on his brats: they lost the slight glaze of arousal and watched him carefully. Seemed that all those scathing retorts in the classroom were actually paying off as they were immediately focused.

"Test time, Harry. Over the last days, just what have you learnt about Draco's body and its responses?"

Draco's eyes flicked up to meet Harry's. Harry shrugged, an inelegant one shoulder thing that reminded Snape of the many times he had wanted to shake the boy.

"How do you mean, Professor?"

Snape shifted his weight onto the hip closer to the table and crossed his arms over his chest. It had the effect of making his waistband slip, showing a little more hip. Though it pleased him to see both sets of eyes blink...

Bloody hell with ‘pleased': it was a great ego-booster! It had been a long time since anyone had reacted to him in such an open, sexual manner.

He scowled a little and both his brats refocused on him, not just his body.

"Let me put it this way, Mr. Potter. If you wanted to turn Mr. Malfoy here into a puddle of sensation, how would you go about it? To which parts of his body would you pay particular attention? And just how would you pay this attention?"

He actually could hear Draco gulp. Harry, on the other hand, looked slightly uncomfortable.

"You have been paying attention, haven't you?" He included Draco in his glare. "Both of you?"

The look shared between the two was priceless. A mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

"Perhaps it will be easier for you to respond, Mr. Potter, if you direct me."

"Direct you, Professor?"

Snape nodded. "You compose and I'll play..." he smirked at Draco, "the instrument. Let's see what kind of music we can create together."

"Oh, Merlin!" whispered one brat while the other thought about that.

And then there appeared a smile on Harry's face. One that was positively wicked. His eyes lit up with the kind of brilliance that Snape would have sworn he'd only seen on the boy when flying at break-neck speed after a Snitch.

So, the Hat had been right: there was a lot of the Slytherin in their Gryffindor.

And poor Draco was about to discover how much.

Okay. So he'd wanted Snape to touch him. But like this?

Draco wriggled a little uncomfortably at the notion of having someone like bloody Harry Potter – of all people!– think he actually knew something that intimate about him. All right. So the prat had brought him off. Once. Hell, anyone, including the Dark Lord himself, could have brought him off at that particular point. All it had taken was the feel of that wet heat around his aching, throbbing, about-to-explode cock. Like that made Potter an expert in what...

And that crack about a ‘puddle of sensation'. From Snape? The most rational, pragmatic man he knew. Who'd turned out to be one of the sexiest. What the hell was going on with the world he'd known?

Oh, Merlin! Draco tilted his head a little more to the right so that Snape's tongue would have more room to trace whatever pattern it was making along the underside of his jaw.

And then that little suck. On his Adam's apple. Oh...and under his ear...

"No, Mr. Malfoy."

Oh, shit. He was Mr. Malfoy again. Snape was in full professorial mode. And it was in a tone of voice that now went directly to Draco's cock.

"This is Mr. Potter's test, not yours. You are not to contribute to this. Remain as still as you can. Do nothing to help him. No agreements, no suggestions, no vocalisations of any kind. Is that understood?"

Nothing? He was to do nothing? Just lie there and what, think of Britain? But he nodded anyway, comforted by the thought that eventually Potter would be the one lying here and Draco would be the one composing...

"Excellent. Continue, Mr. Potter."

It was already hard to hold still. And Snape was only at the juncture of neck to shoulder! Shit, the man not only looked good, he smelled... What was that scent? Certainly not the soap Draco had used himself in his morning shower. What... Oh.

Cinnamon.

Snape smelled like the cinnamon rolls that the Malfoy house elves made on his father's special instructions only once a month. And only for him. His mother had never wanted any. So she said. She maintained they were far too rich. And they must have been. The syrup of brown sugar and butter fairly dripped off the dough.

Not that he'd ever tasted any himself. They were made only for Lucius Malfoy, who most certainly had never shared with his son. Who'd sat at the same table, eating his breakfast, which on any other day had been more than fine. But on that one day a month...

He unconsciously raised his hand to touch the man who smelled like everything that had been forbidden him and...

"No, you don't."

He opened his eyes, suddenly aware of his hand about to touch Snape's bare shoulder.

"No, you may not touch me, Mr. Malfoy. But..."

Snape's smile was a touch too feral for Draco's comfort. It hadn't bothered him when Snape had looked at Longbottom that way, but now...his breath caught and his traitorous cock rose even higher.

"But I see that Mr. Potter is no less affected by this ‘etude' of ours. No, Mr. Potter. Bring your hand up where I may see it. In fact, I think it may be a good idea if you were to hold hands, both hands, both of you. And not let go, no matter what."

He pulled back just enough to supervise the new arrangement. "Good. Now, until I instruct you otherwise, those hands remain clasped together. And I shall consider their failure to do so to be grounds for discipline as you will have disobeyed a direct order of mine. You may not like the consequences."

His smile caused shivers to run up Draco's spine. Bloody hell, what were they in for?

"Now where was I, Mr. Potter?"

He had Snape at his command.

What a high!

Harry licked his lips as he pondered his next instruction. Draco's hands clenched a little more tightly in his, calling attention to the soft under arm. "Armpit. Lick it and..."

Snape smirked as he looked up at him. "In that case, I do believe it might be wise for me to... Accio, wand!"

And with a couple of flicks and not more than a dozen words, he and Draco were both sporting cropped armpit hair as well as a bush that had been clipped close. Draco was so blond that his groin looked almost naked.

Wand returned to wherever it had come from, Snape had to call him back to attention. "Mr. Potter, we were at the armpit?"

Harry coughed and started over again. "Lick one armpit and then use your teeth to nip the tendon. Gently. Then do the same to the other armpit."

And while Draco caught another of those small sounds he wanted to make, Snape...holy shit! Snape did as he asked.

Harry didn't know which made him harder: the sight of Draco Malfoy stretched out, unable to move or make any real noises, just lying there enduring whatever Harry ordered done to him or the fact that it was Snape doing it. Either way, he wished he hadn't been told to hang onto Draco so that he could satisfy the needs of his own cock. He'd tried rubbing against the table but it was just an inch or so too high and, besides, he'd gotten Snape's attention when he'd done so. The glare accompanied by the small smile on saliva-slicked lips... Well, he'd gotten the message. If only his cock had as well.

He tried to remember what else he'd noticed about Draco's responses and mentally shrugged. What did it matter? One male body must be pretty much like another. What did he like? What had surprised him about his own body? What...what the hell would he like that mouth to do to him?

One thing he did know, because Snape had pointed it out to him, was the sensitivity of Draco's nipples. Now what would it feel like to have all the skin around them know those lips, that mouth, the tongue, even the teeth but not the nipples themselves. That would drive him crazy and he'd already figured out that Draco was much more sensitive there than he was.

So Snape wanted a puddle of sensation, did he? Let's see how this would work.

Harry knew the grin on his face was reflected in Snape's eyes as he understood what he was up to. Whoever would have thought the Greasy Git's approval would give him such a kick? And it had the added benefit of driving Draco mad enough to swear aloud.

"What did I say about vocalizations, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco raised his head, growling, "Fuck you! Suck them already!"

"Tsk, tsk, Mr. Malfoy. I do believe this means I'll have to begin this part of the process all over again. Don't you agree, Mr. Potter?"

"Indubitably, Professor."

Harry didn't bother hiding his laugh. Really, here was Draco Malfoy, the darling of Slytherin... Well, he had been, until... Still, here he was, the pompous twit, primed like crazy for any kind of sex... Harry had heard about guys his age who could get hard on a look, but he'd thought that was pretty much the usual locker room crap until... Draco had been hard before he'd gotten up on the table. And now...

Here he was all slicked from the attention he'd been getting, his hair damp, his skin shiney, his cock...

Damn but he had a beautiful cock. To think that Harry'd had it once in his mouth already and hadn't really appreciated it. Actually, not the first cock he'd had in his mouth. If the guys went down on him, it was only fair that he return the favour. He wondered if Draco had sucked on Goyle's or Crabbe's cocks.

Ewwww.

He wiped that picture out of his mind.

No, not quite out. He just substituted himself for the others. Draco on his knees, Harry's cock in his mouth, down his throat. Of course, he'd be able to take it all in, down to his throat...so that when Harry came, his spunk would shoot...

Oh, shit! He really had to find a way of getting some friction on his cock.

Snape coughed slightly, getting his attention. "Well, Mr. Potter, should we cater to Mr. Malfoy's desire?

Oh, boy. How to make Draco scream in frustration?

"Flick just the tips with your tongue."

Snape glanced down. "If I may suggest...not that you're doing badly on your own initiative...but maybe a small tug on his balls before doing so? I think Mr. Malfoy should be permitted to come only the once while on the table. And we are nowhere near completed our...composition."

Oh boy! Only once? Harry knew what was done to Draco would be done to him. And he knew Draco was going to make him pay big time for what he was doing to the Slytherin right now. But then, what other chance might he, Harry, get for revenge. For all the times he'd wanted to throttle the Slytherin bastard. Oh, what the heck!. Might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb.

"I think that you should do so anytime you determine it necessary, Professor. You're closer to that...part of the instrument than I am."

And had the satisfying pleasure of hearing Draco curse again when Snape did as he'd said.

Snape chuckled to himself. Whoever would have thought that his little Gryffindor could be so inventive?

Mind, his brat would pay for it when his other brat was the one in control. Still, that consequence didn't seem to be hindering him in any way. Not that the boy didn't need a nudge now and then. What kind of sex had he been getting? Was he truly that inexperienced, even with his own hand?

He'd expected that more from Draco than Harry. After all, Draco had his body guards, thugs whose duty it was to keep Draco untouched by other hands. And he was pretty certain that all they'd done was give him their mouths. There were limits, even for those two, as to what their fathers could insist. He knew those last few months they'd been at Hogwarts, they'd slipped out a couple of times for Hogsmeade and a certain house on a dark street behind the Hog's Head. Women only.

And it was already obvious that Harry's sexual urge was lower than Draco's. Draco was more than ready for penetration, hungered for it if he didn't misread the boy's expressions. But Harry? Well, when Snape thought about it, he couldn't be all that surprised. The boy had more on his seventeen year old mind than his cock.

Still...he certainly had been keeping his eye on Draco's since they'd progressed past that one's hips. Snape had caught him licking his lips once when he'd commented on the taste of the pre-cum that was oozing out of the boy's slit. He smiled to himself. So he had one anal brat and an oral one, did he? That could prove very interesting.

A choked gasp caused him to look up. Damn but his brats were beautiful! Harry, face feral with his own arousal, eyes burning behind those glasses of his, his face flushed, mouth open as he panted to breath. Snape was willing to bet that he didn't notice just how tight Draco's grip was on his hands. Probably Draco didn't notice either. Mind, their hands would ache after this: their knuckles and fingers were white from pressure.

And Draco. His beautiful Slytherin. White and rosy red skin. Skin stretched taut over arched muscles and tendons. With reflections of the torches flickering over his wet skin, wet from his sweat, wet from Snape's mouth.

He'd moved, on Harry's instruction... With Snape's help, really. For some reason, Snape smiled tolerantly, Harry needed to be reminded more and more to focus on what they were doing. It was with all too obvious reluctance that he would pull his attention from the lovely cock that was begging for release.

Snape had moved to between Draco's legs. To between those beautiful white thighs. To that pale blond now-clipped bush, the base of a long thin cock that was purple in its need. To the balls that needed almost constant attention now.

On Harry's orders, he'd made a narrow trail of light teeth marks from the back of Draco's knees, along those thighs right up to but not touching that demanding cock. A cock that must be aching so by now that Draco had to be balanced on that fine line between pain and pleasure. Hell, his balls were doing their best to crawl inside the boy's body in order to avoid being touched yet again by Snape's hand.

It was time to end this, before it passed the line of arousal and went into torture. Though he was certain Draco would have drawn that line much sooner.

He shifted those lovely thighs over his shoulders, slipped his hands under the tight buttocks that were clenching and working around the plug, and dropped his mouth over the cock, taking it deep to the root.

Draco screamed.

His body arched even more as he tried to pump his hips into Snape's mouth.

Almost immediately his brat came with a force that sent his cum down Snape's throat and into his stomach.

Snape waited until the boy lay bonelessly on the table then slowly released his mouthful. He looked up as he lowered Draco's limbs. Harry's eyes were glazed over and his hips were rocking back and forth against nothing.

He had to clear his throat before he could croak out, "Let go his hands, Harry, and come here."

He had to say it again before it penetrated Harry's sex-fogged brain. Snape watched as Harry had to consciously release the hands that were no longer clinging to his. "Don't touch yourself, Harry," he snapped as the boy staggered over to his end of the table. This brat also had a lovely cock. Riding hard and high.

Once near, Snape pulled Harry over to in front of him. "Clasp your hands behind your back, Harry." Then he reached around, slid a hand in one of the streams of cum that streaked Draco's body and used it as lubricant while he brought Harry off, adding his cum to Draco's.

While the boy leaned forward, resting on Draco's leg, Snape pulled his own hard cock out of his trousers top and it was the work of only a few moments for his cum to join that of his brats.

He stuck himself back in his trousers, helped Harry slide to his knees and then leaned forward. While he chanted a series of spells under his breath, he stirred the three different sets of cum together then used the mixture to coat Draco's flaccid cock and balls. He picked up more of the cum potion and used it to paint the skin behind the balls to his hole. There, removing the butt plug, he slipped two newly coated fingers inside the boy's anus.

Harry was supposed to be working on an assignment. Snape peered over the top of the journal he was reading and noticed that the boy spent more time watching Draco. He'd cast a slight sleeping spell on the boy: the potion needed time to be absorbed and it would be easier if the boy slept through that.

Draco lay on his retransfigured pallet, on his back, arms and legs loosely spread out. He looked, Snape smiled, both innocent and wanton at the same time. Not an unusual pose for a Malfoy, though the innocence was always not quite believable.

Harry looked up and caught Snape watching him. With a small gesture of his head indicating Draco, he spoke softly, "He's very beautiful."

Said almost enviously.

Snape put the journal aside. This might be a good time to deal with a couple of things that had been bothering him about his Gryffindor.

"Yes, he is. In a very classic manner. Your beauty, on the other hand..."

Harry scoffed, pulled his focus away from the sleeping brat and back to his book.

Snape rose from his chair and went over to the boy now studiously working away on his History essay. He went down on one knee in front of Harry, gently removed the book, the quill and the scroll, putting them to one side.

Harry had become very still, eyes now on his hands which he clenched on his knees. Unlike Draco, he never sat in such a way as to play with the plug in his arse. He was resting his weight on a haunch, rather than sitting on his arse.

Snape slipped a finger under the boy's chin and tilted that head up so that he could look into green eyes. "Harry. Why don't you think you're beautiful?"

Harry tried to move away from Snape's grip, but he didn't allow it. He did wait, several minutes, and was finally rewarded when Harry muttered something from which Snape deciphered the word "father".

"Give me that again, Harry. And clearly this time, please." A gentle order, but an order nevertheless.

Harry sighed and met Snape's eyes. "I look like my father. You hate my father. So don't try and tell me that you find me...beautiful. I'm here. I've stopped fighting you. You've won. Lay off the false flattery. It's not needed."

Snape sat on the floor and slowly assumed tailor position. He rested his elbows on his knees and propped his chin on his folded hands. He had to tread carefully here or he could lose his Gryffindor brat. And he didn't want that to happen.

"Yes, I suppose you look a lot like James."

Harry met that with a raised eyebrow that indicated more than incredulity.

"The hair is definitely James. It drove Minerva crazy, especially on formal occasions when she'd try to get it to sit properly. Has she been at you?"

A small shake of head.

"No. I suppose even McGonagall can learn a lesson." Snape hoped that might get a glimmer of a smile from the boy but nothing. Just those far too serious eyes watching him.

"You're not as tall as he was. Must get that from Lily's side?"

A shrug this time, a bare movement of a shoulder. "I only know my mother's sister, my Aunt Petunia. She's about average, I guess."

Snape nodded. No comment about previous generations. Surely the boy had to know more about the Muggle side of him? It appeared not. He shoved down the flare of anger at the injustice of it all. One day soon, he really would have to discuss this with Dumbledore.

"You're a better flyer than he was. Oh, he was good, great even, but he worked at it. With you, it was part of you the moment you got on a broomstick. You and Draco both. You fly as though you were part of the broomstick, not just along for the ride."

He caught the slight flush on the boy's cheeks but pretended he hadn't.

"Now your eyes come from your mother. You do know that?" he challenged.

There was a flash of anger in those eyes.

"And you have her temper. In spades." That certainly caught the boy by surprise. "What? Has no one told you about Lily's famous temper?"

Harry shook his head. "No one really speaks to me about her. More about my father."

"Oh, for Merlin's..." Snape shook his head in disgust. "No one? Not even your mother's sister?"

"They don't like wizards and witches. They think Magic is shameful. I think my Aunt Petunia hated my mother. If she spoke of her at all, it was to say that she'd thought herself so fine and above others and that her death served her right."

Dear Merlin! Even he had never been that brutal about James. Well, not publically. "Haven't you asked Minerva? She was your mother's Head of House. They worked a fair amount together her last year."

Harry shook his head again.

Snape could feel his exasperation rise. " Well, why not?"

Harry shrugged again.

"Harry, why not?"

"I wasn't sure she'd remember anything about my mother."

"Good grief, Harry. If I can remember things about Lily, surely..."

"Like what? What do you remember? Do you remember how she looked? Things she said and did? What she was like?"

Harry's hunger made Snape swallow back his usual scorn of all things that had to do with James Potter. He carded a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Where to begin? He caught the boy's still intensity and decided that Harry probably wouldn't care where he began.

"Well, she was bright. Like Granger. But...not pushy with it as Granger is."

"Didn't have her hand up before the question was posed," snickered Harry.

And Snape caught the giddy delight that the boy could barely contain.

What could he tell Harry about his mother?

Yes, she was intelligent. Kind, even occasionally to Slytherins.

"Once, I needed some help with Transfiguration and McGonagall basically ordered your mother to tutor me. It was in Seventh Year and..."

Maybe not. Not a great choice. He and James had come to blows...

"Please, Professor." Harry's hand reached out and rested on his arm. The first time Harry had voluntarily touched him.

"We were working in the Transfiguration classroom... Well, when I say ‘we', I mean that I was doing the work while Lily was ordering me through the paces with some delight. She could have easily told Minerva that she didn't want to tutor me, but she hadn't. Not because she'd have gotten on Minerva's bad side, but because I think it gave her pleasure to boss me around."

He saw the light wan in the boy's eyes and hurried to add, "She loved to boss everyone who came within bossing distance, you know. She was a natural Head of House. Might even have been Headmistress one day..." Get off that tangent, Snape. Don't go there. But the boy's eyes were interested again.

"And she was patient, because I was not having an easy time of it and my humour was growing more and more irritable. She made me stop. She sat me down and began discussing some stupid scandal going on in one of the Houses, Ravenclaw, I seem to remember. By the time we were through dissecting it, I was calmer, more ready to get into the proper frame of mind and, before we returned to our common rooms that night, I had a pretty good grasp on what I'd been doing wrong and how to go about remedying that."

And in the hallway near his, James had been waiting to make the point that he didn't like his girlfriend spending any time alone with some slime-bucket Slytherin.

"You liked her?"

Snape shrugged. "I suppose she was likeable, at times. For a Gryffindor."

Harry smiled. "You liked her." Then he lost the smile. "What did my father do to piss you off that time?"

Snape wasn't going to deny that fact. The boy had more than a good idea as to the relationship between him and his father after his visit to Snape's pensieve. "He accused me of making a pass at her and tried to beat me up."

"What made him think that..." Harry bit his lower lip and Snape reached out with a finger to stop the abuse.

"I don't think he was very sure of Lily's favour, at that point. She loved him. We all knew that, but she could lose her patience with some of the things he did." He thought about that particular day. "She always gave him the impression that she could walk away. I think she did it as a way of keeping him from making a bigger arse of himself."

"Did she do anything about... I mean, did she tell him you hadn't?"

Snape felt the smile grow on his face and knew from Harry's anticipation that his delight was all too obvious.

"Oh, she certainly did that. In the hallway, just as people were heading to the Great Hall for lunch. Not only did she disabuse him of that thought, but then she proceeded to tell him, in front of all those witnesses, exactly what she thought of the trust he had in her, of his impulses to leap into situations before gathering all the facts, of preferring rumour to just coming out and asking her about what had happened."

Snape chuckled, remembering James's face when Lily had lit into him.

"By the time she was done, James was trying his best to disappear into the wall behind him, stuttering as he tried to offer his excuses, which she refused to accept because she said she worried that would only abet his tendencies to make an arse of himself."

He paused, expecting Harry to rise to his father's defence, but the boy just grinned.

Then, in fairness to the young woman who had helped him pass his Transfiguration NEWT, Snape added, "As she turned to leave, she caught me snickering in a corner. She looked me over as though she wanted to kick my arse as much as she had kicked James's. I have to tell you that I found the situation less funny there for a moment."

Harry was hugging himself with glee, like a child being told some story that made him giddy.

"Then she stepped up close to me, nose to nose, so to say, and..."

"And?"

Snape thought before carefully asking, "You do know that your parents were like most Seventh Year couples, Harry?"

Harry had to think a moment. "Snogging all over the place, you mean?"

Snape nodded. "And..." And how much information should he give the boy...

"Oh. You mean...the other thing. Shagging."

Snape nodded.

Harry was quiet a moment or two. "It's funny, you know," he finally said pensively, "it's easier to think of them as students here than as my parents."

Snape leaned in as though to offer a confidence. "Well, Lily said, just loud enough for me to hear, ‘You'd better hope, Severus Snape, that I decide to forgive the git because I'm getting it regularly and I hate doing without.'"

Harry gasped and then giggled, though he was also blushing beet red.

Snape continued, trying his best to remember the exact tone Lily had used with him. "‘So, if I stay mad at him too long, I may expect you to fill in for him, if you get my meaning.'"

Harry's eyes opened wide and he shook his head, as though not believing what he was hearing.

Snape put him out of his misery. "‘And we both know that's not your preference. So, be good, Severus, and stay out of James's sight for the next little while. Or else...'"

Harry managed to catch his mouth before it fell. He looked down at the floor as he reddened again.

"And did you?" he finally asked.

Snape had to push a little. "Did I what? Avoid James or substitute for him?" He scoffed, "Think about it, Harry."

Harry reddened even more but met Snape's eyes. "Even then you already knew you were queer?"

Snape nodded. "I knew even before I began at Hogwarts."

"Not much of a worry then, was it, for my father."

"Taunting me for it and actually believing it are two different things, Harry. He knew I wasn't into women, but he wasn't really certain he believed it." Snape leaned forward so that he was well within the boy's personal space. "If, and I fully admit that it's a big if, but if Lily had insisted on it, which I know she would never have, I think I could have made love to her."

Harry grew very still, a habit, Snape had concluded, whenever he had to process some information which worried him.

"Is that why you think me beautiful? Because I remind you of her?"

Snape raised his hand and cupped the boy's face, holding it so that he could speak directly to those eyes. Lily's eyes. "When I look at you, Harry, I see only you. Not your father. I will never say this again, so bear with me. I didn't like your father and he didn't like me. For many reasons," he decided to be generous – after all the man was dead and he wasn't, "many of them valid, on both sides. One of the things I particularly didn't like about him, other than his tendency to bully people less secure than he was, was his condescending ignorance of your mother's superior ability and intelligence."

Harry blinked at the accusation then gave a short nod of acceptance.

"When I look at you, I don't see Lily. For one thing, you may have her intelligence, but for a variety of reasons we don't need to get into, you haven't been making proper use of it. I understand. Why work your brains out when some fucking prophecy has, as your sole function in life, being that of killing or being killed. You're far too serious because one of the things I best remember about her was her laugh. And I don't think I've ever really heard you laugh, Harry."

The body wriggled, but the head remained still. As did the eyes meeting his. No, very little of James in this one, now that he thought about it.

"No, when I look at you, I see you, Harry Potter. I will admit that maybe, when you first got here, I thought I saw far too much of James in you, but I was wrong. On purely the physical, your features are finer than his. You are less tall. Slimmer. Your hands are more of an artist's than his." He'd often wondered how Lily, so fine and fair herself, could tolerate being touched by such blunt, square-like hands?

"And, yes, you are beautiful to me, Harry." He raised his hands and took that surprised face between them. "So, to recap what I was saying some time ago, Draco's is a classical beauty. Pureblood breeding. Like a...a fine Arabian stallion. And you, mixed blood that you are... No, I am not saying that as a put-down, Harry. You are the product of a pureblood and a Mug...

"Mudblood."

Snape shook that head a little, as though trying to knock some sense into it. "A Muggle-born. And no less a thoroughbred because of it." He allowed his voice to deepen, knowing that it had some effect on his stubborn Gryffindor. "And no less beautiful than the finest of that breed."

Then he leaned over and took the boy's mouth with his before Harry's protest could make itself known.

Harry waited until Snape pulled back a little. "Sorry," he muttered, "I'm not much good at this."

Snape's thumb stroked his lips as he cocked his head to a side and examined Harry. "Not much practice?"

Harry could feel the blush. "No." He tried to shrug it off, nonchalant. "I tried with Cho, but..." He sighed. "Everything with Cho was a disaster."

"And boys don't kiss?"

Harry shrugged again. He took his courage in both hands. "I don't think I was all that good there either," he admitted.

Snape shook his head. "I think all you need is a little practice, Mr. Potter. Maybe with someone who knows how to go about it. If it interests you?"

And Snape leaned in and took his mouth again.

Harry stayed very still, concentrating on the feel of those lips as all they did was stroke across his own. He'd never been that fond of kissing. With Cho, it had made her cry. Guess she was remembering all she'd lost when Cedric...

"Stop thinking, Harry. It's making your lips tighten up. Relax. Kissing is much more fun if your lips are relaxed."

Snape moved back and smiled at him. Funny how he'd never noticed how much smiling changed the man. He was almost...well, not beautiful. The face was too thin, the nose too big. Mind, minus the usual sneer, the fact that he didn't have to worry about the next sarcastic evaluation of his latest potion...

Harry leaned forward, wanting those lips again.

Snape shook his head. "I'm too old to be giving lessons in such an uncomfortable position." He stood up. In one smooth motion. Gracefully. Harry suddenly realised that Snape did a lot of things gracefully. Even... Oh, god! He was really out of it, wasn't he? Snape even snarked gracefully!

The man reached out with a hand, offering Harry help to get to his feet. He took it, knowing that there was no way he could rise Snape style. He would have to practice that, too, when he could do so privately.

Snape led him over to his chair. He sat in it and, still holding onto Harry's hand, he gestured with the other, saying some words. The arms moved partially away from the seat. Snape tugged on his hand. "It'll be easier if we're both more comfortable. Kissing lessons can be hard on the neck and back."

Harry gingerly settled himself on Snape's lap, wondering exactly how he was supposed to set himself up. He knew Draco would have taken the opportunity to wriggle and play with the plug but Harry hadn't taken much to it. Maybe that was something else he needed lessons in?

But Snape seemed to understand. He directed Harry's legs over one of the armrests, his back against the other then slipped his arm around Harry's waist. It tickled and he felt a shiver skate across his skin.

"Put your hands on my shoulders, Harry. Now remember, kissing is no fun with a stiff mouth. And it's more than just paying attention to your lover's mouth. A kiss is so much more." Then he smiled again and Harry wondered why he had never noticed Snape's eyes softened when he did so.

"But I think we will both find it easier if..." And after a wave of his free hand, Harry felt his facial skin tingle and knew from Snape's smooth cheeks and chin that they'd both been magically shaved.

Snape leaned in and gently brushed Harry's cheek with his lips. He took a circuitous route close to but not onto Harry's mouth. On the second pass, Harry found himself turning his head just enough to capture a hint of those lips. Snape chuckled softly as he avoided Harry's manoeuver and instead trailed his mouth down to Harry's jaw. Which seemed to tilt up of its own volition, allowing Snape more room in which to tease.

"Like that." And Snape blew a soft stream of warm breath along the underjaw.

Harry gulped. "I think I'm beginning to see what you mean."

Snape glanced down Harry's body. "I think you are." He looked up and Harry was suddenly breathless from the expression in those black eyes. He'd never seen hunger like that in the eyes of the boys with whom he'd shared mouths and hands.

And so he dared, "May I show you?"

Snape nodded and Harry mentally went through what he'd been taught. ‘Relax lips. Stroke gently. Skim, so that you barely feel the skin under your lips. Soft stream of breath.'

"Keep your lips moist, Harry. Use the tip of your tongue...Yes, like that. Serves a double function of keeping your lips soft and it's very erotic."

So Harry did it again, using just the very tip of his tongue, trekking across his lips as slowly as he could. Oh, yes. That worked well: Snape's eyes were suddenly looking at him with the upmost approval.

"What..." Harry had to gulp. "What comes next?"

"Ears can be an erogenous zone, did you know that? But they're very sensitive so that you must take great care."

Snape's mouth tracked slowly from the edge of Harry's, down to the jaw line, along it to the ear. He used the tip of his tongue to delineate the route, pausing to pay more attention to any spot that Harry responded to with a gasp. Then that wet tongue mapped out the whirls in his ear, causing his eyes to close and shivers to run up his spine.

"Like that, do you?" Snape's soft whisper was hot in his ear. Then that mouth took hold of his earlobe and sucked and Harry couldn't prevent the soft moan. Which changed into a gasp when Snape took hold with the tip of his teeth and tugged ever so gently. Then he sucked the feeling of his teeth away.

Harry had to wait until those lips released before he found the strength to open his eyes.

"Ah, a hot spot for you, Harry. I'll remember."

And Harry didn't know if that was a promise or a threat. He swallowed hard. "My turn?"

He moved a hand off a hard shoulder and gently moved the long, dangling hair away from his target. Funny, but Snape's hair wasn't at all greasy. Hadn't been since they'd started showering. He'd have to think about that, but not now. Now he had something to prove. That he was a quick learner.

He made certain his lips were wet. He took his time about it, flickering his tongue in and out, very snake-like, not really following any kind of pattern so that Snape's eyes grew appreciative of his little game. Then he slid his fingers to the back of Snape's head, cupping it so that he could pull it down a little. He knew he was smiling when he flicked the tip of his tongue against the corner of Snape's mouth before beginning to explore his way to the ear he'd revealed.

He went slowly, his lips and mouth tasting. There was a hint of spice to Snape's now smooth skin. Nothing strong or heavy. Just enough of a taste that it made the journey interesting. Ah, Snape had his own hot spot, did he? Just under his ear. "I'll remember," he whispered into that ear, and then he used his tongue as Snape had.

The fact that Snape closed his eyes, shuddered, went directly to Harry's belly. He wondered at the heat he suddenly felt and decided that he really liked kissing.

"Wouldn't do," he said, his voice rough with this new discovery, "to have the other ear feel left out, now would it?"

Snape swallowed hard. "In all fairness," he agreed, turning his head so that Harry had access to it.

Instead of returning on the path he'd take to the first ear, Harry improvised. A Seeker, after all, responded to the instant. He rewet his lips against the spot that made Snape gasp then set off across the upper cheek bone, over the bridge of that remarkable nose... Should he satisfy his curiosity? What would Snape's nose feel like in Harry's mouth? But then, feeling he'd dared enough already – though with some reluctance – he continued on his way until he reached his destination.

When he finally pulled back, he was amazed and delighted to see that Snape's face was hued pink and that his mouth was open, his breath rough. He was also surprised to see that his own body was responding to what he'd been doing. Bloody hell, whoever would have thought kissing was such a turn-on?

Snape opened his eyes. That eyebrow rose and Harry knew that he'd unconsciously thrown down some gauntlet. He had to clear his own throat before he tossed out, "What's next?"

Damn, he had wanted that to come out nonchalantly, not like some frog croaking. Still, it was a real high to see Snape have to swallow before the lesson continued. And the bastard knew it. Harry braced himself.

"Lips. Lips are next."

Snape leaned in and took Harry's lower lip between his. He sucked just enough for Harry to feel he was being tasted. Harry wanted to stick his tongue into that mouth, to taste it as well, but forced himself to remain still and pay attention. He'd discovered that he liked this kissing and he going to learn to do it well. And, god knew, he seemed to be learning from a master.

He did open his mouth slightly, allowing Snape more room to play with both lips. Oh, that was a nibble. Nice. Not hard. Just enough for him to feel the teeth. And that tongue again, stroking his lips as though wetting them for him. He wondered what Snape would do if he captured that tongue and sucked on it?

Oh, well, it would seem that his Potions instructor liked that. He could feel his response against the back of his thigh. Nice to know that he wasn't the only one getting hot on this.

He let the tongue go and put the lessons he'd just been taught to effect. Funny, Snape's lips seemed to be so thin when in fact... Harry pulled back just enough to see that they seemed to be a little swollen. He passed his tongue along them again, feeling the difference in texture from when they'd started all this. He did the same to his, knowing that those eyes were watching him, not all that surprised to discover his were much fuller than they had been.

This time, the mouth settled on his, the tip of Snape's tongue nudging his lips apart. Ah, finally! The serious bit. Snape's tongue entered his mouth. It was hard, warm. Wet. It tasted of...of the juice they'd drunk after Draco had fallen asleep. Of something else. Something undefinable. Harry let his tongue follow Snape's back into his mouth. The taste was stronger here, though he still couldn't place it. He investigated carefully, having caught on that this kissing stuff was gentle, non-intrusive but by invitation.

Oh, funny how someone else's mouth could feel so different than one's own.

Snape's tongue was quiescent, allowing him full privileges. Harry found Snape's palate less rough than his own, his teeth more worn, the heat more slippery. He passed the tip of his tongue along Snape's, inviting it to play. And it did. Why had Harry never realised what a hard muscle the tongue truly was? That it could resist and push. And duel.

They needed to breathe. Damn, that was a nuisance! It meant opening his mouth and allowing cold air in. He did catch, on the edge of his awareness, that Snape didn't seem any happier to deal with this necessity than he did.

But then Snape's mouth pulled away from his and Harry, feeling its loss, groaned. His hands pulled Snape's head back and this time their mouths were rougher, their tongues more determined on supremacy.

It was intoxicating. It was heaven. It was...

"Is this a private performance or can anyone watch?"

Draco woke slowly, as he always did. Except that this time he felt particularly boneless. Which brought back to mind the reason for such a state.

He smiled.

Well, so there was more to Harry than he'd ever thought.

And far more to his Potions instructor than he'd dreamed, even now.

Damn, if he'd wanted the man's cock before this, now he craved it!

He sighed, turning slowly, wincing and grimacing through a leisurely stretch, discovering aches and sore muscles from having been made to wait so long for fulfillment.

Wait till it was Harry's turn on the table: he'd pay for every twinge.

He opened his eyes, seeking his future target. He saw the scroll with the quill still hovering over it, awaiting words to write. Raising his head, he looked about for his fellow victim, and found no one.

As he made to rise to an elbow, he realised that his crotch was itching intolerably. No wonder: it was coated with some flaky white substance. He reached down and scratched, bringing his hand back up to his nose to sniff. Pe-eu! Hell, dried cum! Hadn't anyone thought of cleaning him up? And why was it where it was? He'd come enough in his life to know that it was his chest and belly that should be flaky, not his...

A low moan caught his attention.

So, he wasn't alone. They hadn't left him behind.

He rose quietly to his feet, wondering just what the hell Snape was doing to Harry this time.

Oh, shit. He was kissing him. And Harry was definitely kissing him back.

He was momentarily stunned by how beautiful they were together. He'd never thought of them like that. Not before. But Harry was flushed, slowly licking his lips and Snape was totally focused on Harry's tongue, licking his own in imitation of Harry's gesture. And Snape... Well, still looking more like a crow or vampire than any magazine hunk, but that didn't stop Draco from wanting him more at that particular moment than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.

Then Snape allowed Harry to pull his head down and their kiss became almost violent.

And in that second, Draco felt a flare of jealousy tear through him. Once more, he wasn't needed. The two seemed complete in themselves. And with that, he suddenly became aware that he was no longer wearing a butt plug. He was overwhelmed by the sense of loss. Something in him that had slowly come to life in the past days waned and died.

"Is this a private performance or can anyone watch?"

Snape looked up and was surprised by the coldness of Draco's voice and by what he privately referred to as the Malfoy mien. Neither of which had been apparent in the boy these past days. He glanced down at Harry in his arms and smiled, expecting Draco to enjoy the picture of his brat obviously sex- fogged. He even held his hand out in silent invitation for him to join them, but Draco just shook his head, pointing down to his groin.

"May I shower?"

"If that's what you wish."

Draco shrugged and headed for the shower.

Snape allowed his hand to return to the brat in his lap, slowly brushing back the hair from his face as he bestowed a last kiss. But he wondered if Draco's head was hurting. Had the experience been too intense for the boy? He'd have to keep an eye on him. Maybe a potion...

But then Harry's tongue teasingly flicked into his mouth and he could only think what a quick study the brat was when it was something that interested him.

Draco took his time in the shower, not only soaping the cum off himself, but diligently washing every inch of himself, not once, but twice. Then he just stood under the water, thinking of absolutely nothing, shoring up his walls of self-protection. By the time he towel-dried himself, he was back under control, back to being the old Draco, ready to sneer at all and anything.

He was pleased that his newly-formed walls weren't put to the test when he joined the others. Harry was no longer enjoying Snape's embrace. He was kneeling as Snape fed him. Draco did swallow hard when he saw Harry's mouth suck on those fingers. He wanted to protest that was his prerogative then reminded himself that really, once again, he'd been pushed aside. He had no prerogatives.

"Draco, come eat."

Draco looked at Snape and calmly placed a hand on his hip which he jutted out, a stance he usually took – dressed – when challenged on some point.

"I'm not really hungry." He was proud that his voice didn't tremble. That he sounded like a Malfoy, not some sex toy that could be easily discarded.

Snape must have clued in that something was wrong. He sat back in his chair and met Draco's eyes until they slowly dropped. "I really wasn't asking you, Draco. Come eat."

Draco thought about arguing the point then decided that he really didn't want another round with the paddle or the belt. He walked over to the spot Snape was indicating and, with centuries of breeding stiffening his spine, he knelt, as gracefully as any practiced courtier.

He opened his mouth to accept the food Snape presented to him and made no further protests. Jealousy had never gotten him anything, other than some snide, humiliating comment from his father. And they needed him. The Prophecy said so. He might be an encumbrance, but he was a necessary one.

Snape's hand cupped his face, tilting it up so that he couldn't hide behind the hair that had slipped forward. He met those black eyes that had seemed so beautiful only hours earlier and waited for some comment that would put him in his place.

Nothing.

Snape only examined him for several moments then, gently, almost as though he cared, leaned over and stoked his lips – lips swollen from Potter's kisses – across his forehead.

"Head hurt?" he whispered near Draco's ear.

And having been handed an excuse that seemed to be acceptable, Draco gave a small nod, ignoring the ache in his heart.

Go To Part 5

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