It was late when they returned to the Chamber. None of them had been in a hurry to disrupt the calm each had been feeling.

They took hot showers to chase the memory of the storm out of their bones, then ate a hot meal and went to bed.

Not to sleep.

Harry was the one who made the first move. He knelt up beside Snape, who was propped on pillows, and leaned over to skim his lips back and forth over the slightly chapped ones. At Snape's other side, Draco laughed softly and used his hand to rub small circles with the tips of his fingers on the soft skin of Snape's belly.

Snape pulled his head slightly away from Harry's. "Not interested in sleep tonight?"

Draco's laugh was raunchy and deep. "I'd have thought that you would have had the time to recoup your energy by now, old man that you are."

Snape's eyebrow rose high at what he perceived to be a challenge. "Old man, eh?" Then he scowled though Draco could easily see the lasciviousness in those black eyes. "I'll show you ‘old man', you brats!"

And Snape grabbed a laughing Harry, dragging him down onto his back as he rolled over Draco. In another sudden move, he was straddling both their bodies, Harry on his back, facing him, Draco on his side.

"Well," gasped Draco, his tone nonchalant yet with a definite challenge in his eyes, "if you must."

"Remember," giggled Harry, "there's one of you but two of us."

"So there are," agreed Snape and he waved his hands.

Draco and Harry found themselves flat on their backs, arms drawn up over their heads restrained by silken ropes to the posts by the head of the bed. Another wave of Snape's hands and their ankles were similarly bound to the posts at the foot of the bed.

Snape sat back on the cushion of their thighs and grinned at them. "You must remember never to challenge ‘old men', boys. We often have acquired a bag of tricks over the years that you don't yet have."

"But," Draco dared, eyes flashing in a manner that reminded Snape of lightning, "that you intend to demonstrate to us, your humble students."

Harry laughed, though Snape noticed a certain nervousness in its tones. "Humble? Oh, god, Black, he'll never untie us now. Not even if we beg for it."

Snape could feel the wickedness in the grin on his face. "Let's see just how good you both can be at begging."

But first he had to deal with the wariness that hovered behind Harry's eyes. He had bound them without really thinking of the boy's reaction. His Draco slut was already licking his lips in anticipation, but Harry obviously had other associations with the position.

He sat back and used the tip of a fingernail to stroke a line up the boy's foot. When it wriggled – because though binding, the silken bonds were loose enough for their bodies to move – Snape repeated the same gesture on Harry's other foot.

"Ah, ticklish, eh, Mr. Potter?" he said in his most professorial voice. "Hmmm, interesting."

Harry snickered as Snape lightly skimmed the boy's arch, his body letting go of some of his tension. That was all right by Snape: he fully intended to convert that kind of tension to another sort.

He smiled, leaned over, and took Harry's chin in one hand to kiss him. Before Draco could complain of being ignored, the fingers of Snape's free hand sought, found then played with Draco's nipple. He was pleased to hear the boy's gasp as he pinched and pulled the small nub.

Snape slowly pulled away from the wet warmth of Harry's mouth and sat back to check if his Gryffindor was still nervous about being bound. No, it would seem that he'd lost even more of that tension. In fact, his eyes seemed slightly crossed from, Snape hoped, the effect of his kiss.

Snape snickered as he gave Draco's nipple a final pinch before moving so that he was sitting on his heels between two sets of white thighs.

"Now, then," Snape said, his free hand stroking a non-existent beard, "just what shall I do to you so that you understand that it is not a wise thing to challenge your master?"

He had meant to be humourous but Harry's face lost all expression and the tension was back.

Oh, damn it all to hell and back! Once more, he had put his feet into it royally! The boy would remember those early days in the Chamber and his informing them that he was going to master them.

And this time, Draco noticed Harry's sudden stiffening. He didn't seem to have caught the reference and was beginning to look questioningly at Snape as he raised his head to check on Harry. "What?"

"Nothing," said Snape, "It's nothing. Just a misstep in humour."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh," he spoke knowingly, "the ‘master' thing." He dropped his head back onto the mattress. "Well, if you are, our master that is, you're doing a piss-poor job of it."

Harry was now the one to raise his head to stare at Draco. Snape's own head had snapped back at the ‘piss-poor'.

"Perhaps you should explain yourself." Snape was not all that surprised to find himself growling: his own sense of humour was still rather sensitive.

Draco shrugged as best he could in the circumstances. "Well, the master you said you'd be would never have introduced us to Old Magic, let alone tutor us in it. Masters, if I remember my meetings with the Dark Lord, tend to be very dictatorial and not much on opening new, positive experiences to their lackies."

"You've met the Dark Lord?" Harry sounded incredulous.

Draco nodded. "The creature's an incredible bore, as I'm certain Severus can testify. He expects everyone to genuflect to him and wants only to hear how wonderful his ideas are, even when he's stolen them from someone else. Lucius used to curse up and down for hours after one of his visits to the manor." He shrugged again. "Probably still does." Then he dismissed the Dark Lord and all he represented with a "So, can we get back to the business at hand?"

"Business?" queried Harry, a little cautiously.

Draco raised his head to send a definite ‘d'uh' look at his bondsmate. "Ravishment. Remember?"

Harry blinked then nodded.

Draco checked with Snape. "We were about to be ravished, right?"

Snape went from looking into grey eyes to a much calmer green then back again. Somehow, in just a few words, Draco had managed to understand the situation and return them all into the proper mood. "I do believe I was thinking along that plan."

Draco smiled at both of them. "Well, what are you waiting for? Ravish away."

Harry looked at Draco for a moment longer then he sighed, nodding slowly. His head hit the mattress with a little "thunk" and he sighed again, far more dramatically, drawing Snape's attention. "Right. Now where were you, O Master?"

"He was going to show us why it wasn't wise to challenge an old man like him," answered Draco, eyes alight with dare.

Snape closed his own eyes and found himself counting to ten, whether for patience or in thanks, he couldn't say. When he opened them once more, he found two sets of eyes watching him with some worry.

"It's all right, you know," said Harry, with one of his shy smiles. "I am sort of curious to know how you're going to ravish both of us at the same time."

Snape shook his head and took a deep breath. He released it slowly as he allowed a hand to slowly work its way up the soft inner thigh of each of his brats.

Harry gasped as Snape's hand scooped up his balls and squeezed just enough to make his hips jerk. Draco tilted his head back, his mouth open, when Snape's hand curled around his already hardening shaft.

Snape shook his head: nothing like the quick responses of a seventeen year old!

With a certain amount of relish, Snape spent the next long while demonstrating that not only could he multi-task, but that he could do so with a co-ordination that left both his brats writhing, unable to do more than raise hips in supplication for ease while their voices filled the Chamber with worded and, later on, wordless begging.

It pleased Snape more, knowing that his chance to have them at his mercy in his bed was coming to an end. Back Above, he would have no time and no right to do these things to them. At least, not until the end of the academic year. Assuming that there was one. Assuming that...

But he left those thoughts to the future and concentrated on the present. On Draco's body, tracing patterns of all kinds on the boy's more sensitive parts with the tip of his tongue, filling them in with his saliva, colouring them with gentle nips of his teeth all the while Draco went from challenging to cursing to begging for release. On Harry's body, using his fingers to brush, his hands to stroke, using them to tease until Harry was flushed from throat to thighs, his voice joining Draco's in a chant that was some of the best music Snape had been privileged to hear.

Sometimes he alternated his attention, sometimes worked on both brats at the same time, so that neither knew if a pause meant respite or merely Snape deciding on his next plan of attack.

At one point, he sat back on his heels to examine his handy work.

It took only a fingertip skimming skin that was silky hot to the touch to drive Draco off the mattress, held down only by his bounds. His eyes were closed tight, hair wetly slicked to his skull, slim body arched as he whimpered for that same finger to touch his as yet untouched cock.

Harry's head rocked from side to side as his hips bucked up and down. Though his eyes were only slivered open, Snape could easily make out the carnal, angry glare directed at himself. Anger, it seemed, would never be that far from this brat's emotions. Mind, he could understand it this time: Harry's cock had been well handled, but only to the point of near release, never beyond.

Now Snape could not longer deny himself. His own cock now required discouragement almost as often as those of his brats. As he pulled on his balls yet again, the binding he had cast among them came to mind. Matters were no longer as they had been when they'd arrived here in the Chamber. For one thing, he'd grown to care for his brats. The original binding ritual had linked them to him: now he felt the urge to link himself to them.

Refusing to think any further upon that decision and its ramifications, he spoke the charm and cleaned himself out as he reached for the vial of oil that he'd set out what seemed to be hours ago.

With a last glance at Draco, who was totally involved in his own needs, Snape moved to straddle Harry's hips.

He touched Harry's cock only enough to see to it that it was well slicked then he eased himself down on the hard shaft.

Harry's eyes opened wide in disbelief as he understood what was happening, yet not able to prevent the moan of relief which was one of the most erotic sounds Snape had heard. Holding the stunned green look, he began slowly fucking himself at the same time as his inner muscles milked the boy's cock. He ignored his own cock, not ready yet to come.

He'd primed Harry well. His head rolled back and his eyes shut as the sensation grew to be too much. Harry stiffened in orgasm, his hips rising to meet Snape's next downstroke, his grunted growl of completion even penetrating Draco's haze.

Snape waited until Harry had sagged back onto the bed before rising, careful not to lose too much of Harry's come. Draco had cooled enough to glare angrily at him. Snape found himself laughing softly as prepared his Slytherin brat before setting himself down onto that cock and this time riding himself – as well as Draco – to orgasm.

Before dropping into the nest of his brats, Snape murmured the words that released them both of their bounds. With a sigh and a feeling of a job well done, Snape pulled his now sleeping brats to him and snuggled closer into their scent.

"Let's go back. One last time, please, Severus?"

Draco put on his most successful puppy face and waited to see if it would work as well with Severus as it did with his mother.

He got that raised eyebrow in return, so he ratcheted up the puppy look. Just out of the range of his vision he heard a smothered snicker. Really, Harry wasn't helping much with this attempt to delay their leaving the safety and security of the Chamber. He was about to turn and glare at his fellow bondsman when Harry put his two pence's worth in.

"If the weather is bad, we can come back immediately, Severus."

Severus folded his arms across his chest and tried hard to look as though he were considering the pros and cons of Draco's request. Now that he knew Severus better, saw him with different eyes, Draco could see the light in those ebony eyes. Mind, he had also, in their time here, learnt not to tip his hand too quickly. He allowed Severus his moment of making them wait for his response before raising a fist, "Yes!", in triumph at the man's eventual nod.

Harry laughed aloud.

He'd been doing a lot of that these past days, Harry was. Laughing. So had Draco and, Merlin forbid! so had Severus. Well, not exactly doing all that much laughing, but certainly smiling a lot more. Damn, but the man looked delicious when he allowed his walls down.

Not that they wouldn't be going back up when they left the Chamber for Above. And not just Severus's, but Harry's as well. And his own.

Which was why Draco had asked for one more day together. One more time of being together before they went back to the reality that awaited them. That awaited him. He had no doubts as to his father's response to his name change, to the fact that he and Harry would be sharing a room. Hating him for the first, hoping that just maybe the second was his disowned son's way of getting close to the Boy Who Lived in order to betray him.

Draco grinned at Harry. Whatever Severus had originally meant to do to them with that bounding ritual, Draco would be bound to his men with more than ritual. He allowed the word ‘love' to hover near but did not allow it directly into this thoughts.

Harry led them out of the Chamber, whistling softly as they made their way through the tunnel to the secret entrance. Outside, the air was crisp and the sky grey. The winter so far had been colder than the usual. Draco rubbed his mitted arms under the heavy winter cloak that Harry had transfigured for them out of the blankets. Hell, the castle halls would be freezing! And since there were so few people in the place, the dorms would be on the frigid side as well. He would miss the warmth of the Chamber when they went back.

The Elements were on his side this morning. At the island, the sky was a cloudless pale winter blue, mirrored cloudily on the still ocean surface, the sun shining, its warmth barely penetrating the cold air.

Draco squinted up into the sky and felt an overwhelming urge to be up there. He wondered...

"Mŕthair-Tolamh, toilich: můth lainnir."

Mother Earth, if it be your desire, let me be a falcon.

And the next thing he knew, his wings were on a downbeat while his body shot up into the sky that had been calling to him.

Oh, merciful heaven! The freedom! The delight! No, more than delight: it was as good as the best orgasm Severus had ever given him!

He raised his head as his wings caught an updraft and he soared from one to another.

"Damn," muttered Harry.

Snape moved his head just enough to indicate that he'd heard. "Envy him, do you?"

Harry reluctantly acknowledged the hit. "Yeah." Then he groaned as another thought hit him.

"What now?" Snape's voice held a hint of laughter, though the man had the courtesy not to laugh at him out loud.

"He's going to be hell to beat on the Quidditch pitch after all this."

Well, it wasn't outright laughter, though that cough certainly didn't disguise Snape's opinion all that well.

So Harry was surprised when Snape moved around their ‘beach' and picked up a long piece of driftwood that yesterday's storm had brought to shore. A few words and Snape was holding a Firebolt in his hand.

"I'm afraid it won't last much more than an hour, but that should give you enough time to hone a few tricks."

Harry knew his mouth was open. He'd have thought that Snape would have been pleased that Slytherin's Seeker would be one up.

"Don't you..."

Snape shook his head. "Broomstick has never been my favourite form of transport. Your decision, Mr. Potter, but the clock is running."

With a grin, Harry grabbed the Firebolt, swung up on it and took off. Then he stopped, hovering some ten feet above Snape, as he looked down at the man. He turned the broomstick – on a dime, he was pleased to note – and returned so that he could lean over to kiss the now cold lips.

"Thank you, Severus."

If he didn't know better, he would have thought the man embarrassed. As he went to turn, he was hit with a blast of magic. His clothing was suddenly thicker and therefore a lot warmer.

"You have about 58 minutes left, Mr. Potter."

With a whoop of pleasure, Harry aimed his broom at the speck high above him.

"Stay in sight, the two of you!" Severus yelled after him. Harry gave a wave to indicate that he'd heard and flew off.

Snape watched as his brats put on a show for him. With all that space, Draco was truly learning how to use his wings. Harry did his best to keep up with him – causing Severus some worry in the attempt – but it seemed that he finally understood that he would not be able to attain those heights as the speck he had become grew larger.

He allowed himself a sigh of relief but then chastised himself for relaxing too early as Draco began a dive that Snape was certain would see him smashed into pieces on the hard surface of the still, grey water. At the very last moment, Draco pulled out and the only consolation Snape had was to scream, "Bloody idiot!" at the falcon who was now coasting on an updraft.

Harry dropped to hover just above Snape's head. "Wow! Did you see that?"

Snape found his legs suddenly unable to hold him up. He sat on a rock and glared at the bird coasting along the shoreline.

Harry just laughed and went to rejoin Draco in a game of loop-the-loop that, at the very least, had the benefit of keeping them within Snape's view. Not that that was the last of Draco's dives. Two of them each produced a large fish that he dropped by Snape before rising to soar again.

Snape sighed and just shook his head. He set up a fire in their ‘cave' and prepared the fish for a meal. By the time they had been gutted and were cooking, Harry had returned, only moments to spare before the broom retransfigured into a piece of driftwood.

With a dramatic moan for his freezing body, Harry settled himself as close to the small fire as he could, holding his hands over the flames and cooking fish to warm them.

"Enough, Draco!" Snape spelled his voice so that it would aim directly at Draco. With a final heart-stopping dive, Draco landed and returned to his human form. This time, he was less tired, probably, thought Snape, due to the high he was on.

"It's amazing how detailed everything is from up there," Draco said, as he stuffed fish into his mouth. He might not have been exhausted, but he was famished. "I could see this fish as clear as day."

Snape growled, "As I could see the dive you took to catch it. Try to remember, Mr. Black, that ‘old men' can only take so many shocks in a short time."

Harry snickered. With a grin, he leaned over and kissed Snape on the cheek. "Yeah, right.Old man. Seems to me that the old man had no trouble taking on a couple of brats just last night, eh, Draco?"

Draco shook his head, most seriously. "Still, we had better take care of him, you know, Harry. We want him in good shape for tonight."

Harry seemed confused. "Tonight?"

Draco looked at the piece of fish in his hand. "Our last before going back to our old lives." He looked up to hold Snape's eyes. "We do get a last night, don't we, Severus?"

Harry lost his delight. "Oh, shit." He looked up at both of his companions. "We have to go back, don't we?"

Snape tossed the rest of his piece of the no longer appetising fish into the fire. "We do." He looked from one to the other. "There is a prophecy that must be fulfilled and now, I believe, you have the strengths and abilities to do so."

Draco grimaced. "I suppose we've also gotten too ‘mature' to deny our responsibilities. You know," he shook his head sadly, "this adult stuff isn't all it's made out to be."

"But we do get a last night, don't we, Severus?" Harry asked.

Snape was used to Draco using his first name, but Harry rarely did. He couldn't believe the warmth it generated in the base of his stomach. As for a last night, well, he was as reluctant to be an ‘adult' and return to ‘adult' responsibilities as were his brats. Why not? Snape smiled at his Gryffindor. "Yes, you get a last chance to wring me out."

Harry's happiness was back, adding to the warmth in Snape's belly.

Because it was their last night, and because it seemed to make a lot of sense at the time, Snape ordered up a bottle of wine with their meal. Somehow that one bottle emptied far too quickly and so he called up a second. And then a third.

Draco might have been used to the occasional glass. After all, Lucius thought that any meal, other than breakfast, was incomplete without at least a bottle. And the boy did seem to have inherited his father's head for the stuff.

Harry, on the other hand, was just as obviously unused to drinking. Oh, Snape had no doubt that he'd probably quaffed his fair share of the usual seventh year quantities of butterbeer, but it seemed wine was a bit of a novelty in the life of Master Potter.

"No, Harry, sip, don't chug!" Draco chastised him. He looked at Snape, rolling his eyes. "The man's a peasant!"

"The man has not had the advantage of your up-bringing," Snape corrected.

Harry's eyebrows disappeared under that fringe of hair.

Snape, feeling quite relaxed, settled even more comfortably in his chair. "What? You think I don't know that those Muggles Dumbledore dumped you with have no sense of culture, not even their own?" Before Harry could indeed indicate that he had thought that, Snape added, "But Draco is right. You need to sip. Like this."

And thereafter followed a lesson in wine tasting and drinking that necessitated the presence of a fourth bottle.

Which may, Snape calculated, have been a bottle too many for all of them. Not that he was complaining, not when it seemed...somehow...how had they gotten to that point?...to have spurred Draco to challenging Harry to a stripping contest.

Which was why Snape was now slouched in his chair, glass in hand, trying to judge which of his brats was more erotic in the removal of his clothing.

They began with arguing about the music.

"Music?" Draco was finding his feet, steadying himself with Harry's shoulder.

Harry nodded most seriously. "Gotta have music. Sheesh, even I know that!"

Draco frowned as he thought the matter over. "What kind of music?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, stripping music, you prat. What other kind would there be?"

Draco pulled out his most haughty upper-class pureblood sneer. "There are many kinds of music, Potter. How am I supposed to know what you would classify as the proper one for this contest?"

Harry tried to rise and found himself on all fours. He shook his head and, with determined resolution, pushed himself up so that he stood wobbling, until he reached out a hand and grasped Draco's steadier shoulder. "There is, Black, only one melody that will suffice for this event." He snapped his fingers. The raucous notes of "The Stripper" filled the Chamber.

"Yes, Harry," judged Snape, "very apropos."

Harry smirked at Draco and, with his finger, stroked a ‘one' in the air.

At Draco's confusion, Snape added, "It would seem that there are holes in your education as well, Draco."

But Draco wasn't listening to Snape. He had his eyes closed and was concentrating on the music, his hips beginning a slow sway. He smiled, nodded, and opened his eyes. "One to you, Harry." Then he added, "Who goes first?"

"Flip you for it," Harry enunciated carefully.

Draco squinted his eyes and then shrugged. "If that's what you want." And he flipped Harry a finger.

Harry snickered. "No, you idiot, not that kind of flip!" But he found it so funny that he had to rest his head against Draco's shoulder as he fought knees which refused to lock, all the while giggling. Draco staggered and struggled to remain upright. When he began giggling as well, Snape realised if he wanted his show...and he did...he would have to do something about the state of his brats. Not much. Just enough for them to be able to remain on their feet while they performed for him.

The spell worked well enough for Harry to be able to stand on his own while Draco's spine suddenly straightened.

Meanwhile the music seemed to have come to an end.

"Harry," said Snape, in his most professorial tone, hoping to get everyone back on track, "you need to loop the music."

Harry pushed the hair off his face and did so.

"I suggest that Draco goes first. For some reason, Harry," Snape tried to glare at the lad...with not much success if that grin was the result, "you seem to be more familiar with the mechanics of this competition. It would not do for you to demonstrate this familiarity so that Draco finds himself unable to perform."

Harry had to think about that before he nodded. He went to sit at Snape's feet, muttering, "Not that familiar. Duds has these vids..."

Which excuse made no sense to Snape. He settled the brat's head against his knees and gestured to Draco to begin.

Draco just stood there, eyes closed, trying to figure out how to use the music.

Severus had been right: there were large holes in certain areas of his education. At home, access to anything sexual had been pretty much filtered through Lucius, who, for some reason, hadn't thought it important to go out of his way to instruct his son on the necessities of masculine life. Well, necessary to the life of a growing boy.

And the part of his father's library that might have been enlightening as well as instructive had been spelled against anyone other than Lucius from removing any of the books off their shelves.

Actually, Draco had learnt more about sex from Goyle and Crabbe. Though they were the ones who had been the first to introduce him to blow jobs – rather inferior ones now that he had something against which to compare them – they were both more into women. Witches with large breasts. The larger the better.

Nothing that had interested Draco at the best of times. But he had confiscated the occasional "Va-Va-Voom Vixens" magazine from them and, yes, he had scanned...well, okay, more than scanned...the contents, wondering why they appealed so much to his guardians and so little to him.

Still, there had been some gestures, some shoulder movements and hip jerks that had most definitely caught his attention. If such things were popular with most of the males in his dorm, and they were, surely there was a way of modifying them for this crowd.

Damn, Draco was certain that Harry had it over him in this case. Muggles, after all, were naturally degenerate. At least, that's what he'd been told by Lucius. Probably inaccurate, as most of his fa...Lucius's beliefs.

Well, anything a Muggle could do, he, Draco Black, could certainly do better. Besides, it wasn't as though he had that much to rid himself: all he was wearing was shirt and trousers. He hadn't bothered with much else here in the Chamber since they'd been given back their clothes.

He stopped thinking and allowed the music to run over him. Yes, that was better. He could feel it getting under his skin. He smiled and slowly began caressing his arms and shoulders as though familiarising himself with unknown territory. His hands crossed over his chest and he wondered just how slowly he should remove his shirt.

It was then that he realised that his hips were working independently of him. They seemed to have gotten in tune with the music far better than the rest of him. So, Draco closed his eyes and allowed them to have their way as he brought a hand up to the upper-most button and played with it a little before slipping it out of its slit. And then, he turned slightly so that he could look over his shoulder at a Severus who was grinning rather wickedly and a Harry who was smirking a challenge at him.

Damn the Gryffindor, Draco was going to get the better of him in this game.

He batted his eyelashes and wriggled his eyebrows as, turning his torso as much as he could, without interfering with hips that were swaying hard with the beat, he undid the second button, then the third.

"Not bad for an amateur."

Draco was certain that Harry was addressing that to him though he was looking up at Severus. Who just rested his glass of wine on the prat's head, saying, "He hasn't had the advantage of your experience with the baser things in life."

Like bloody hell!

Okay, he hadn't. But he had an imagination and he was going to prove to those two twits...

He slipped a hand inside his shirt – silk, of course – and began caressing himself, closing his eyes as he concentrated only on the music, the throb of his heart as it drummed, and the sensations he was arousing.

One hand caressing skin, the other smoothing the silk over his dampening torso – damn, this stripping was work!

He popped the fourth button and slipped his other hand inside his shirt, so that both hands were stroking up and down his rib cage. In counter-time to the gyration of his hips.

"Very nice improvisation," Severus cheered him on.

Harry snorted.

But by now, Draco barely heard either one of them. He was totally into the music, feeling its heat spread through his body. He finally understood why it was called stripping: it was too hot to keep his clothes on much longer. But not without a show. Using his hands, he gradually shoved the dampened silk off his shoulders, one at a time, replicating a little shrugging motion he remembered Miss November using to convince a rather tattered blouse to slip off, revealing...

Yes, that seemed to have gone over rather well. So he did it with the second shoulder.

Damn, but it was hot!

With a grunt of impatience, he pulled the shirt-tails out of his trousers and, in rhythm with the beat, twirled the material as if to cool himself off a little before allowing it the freedom to fly towards his watchers. He smiled his most wicked smile when it landed on Harry's head, obstructing his sight. Not that he'd been aiming for that particular target, but...

Oh, damn, his skin was sensitive. To the cooler air of the Chamber, to the skim of his fingertips as he traced the delineation of his muscles.

"Now, you're getting it!"

And Harry's approval only made Draco hotter. So he courted it further by slowly licking a finger – to the approbation of both his spectators – was that really Severus who was laughing in that steamy manner? – and then tracing a wet trail around each nipple. Nipples that he was suddenly aware were both rock hard.

Oh, my, yes, this was nice, indeed. Fun as well.

Now what could he do with these trousers that would heat the place up even more?

He pulled in his stomach and slipped his hands under the waistband, finding – surprise, surprise, Draco, my boy – something that was already hard and demanding.

With a grin, he turned to face Severus and Harry, jutting out his hips to show what he'd found, still swaying his hips to the music. Then, under the cover of the winter-weight wool of his very expensive trousers, Draco grabbed hold of his cock and went about making it grow even larger to encouraging whoops and hollers.

He pulled his hands out before he could end the show pre-maturely, and rubbed the heels over his thighs and groin, taking care not to excite his cock further. He wanted to end with a bang, not with a wet spot on his trousers.

But it was going to have to be sooner rather than later: he was so turned on by what he was doing, by whom he was doing it for.

He tried to rid himself of his trousers with the same elegance as he had the shirt, but his feet tripped him and he had to hop a little not to fall flat on his face. Once he would have felt embarrassed, but somehow the laughter of those watching was with him, not against him. So, laughing himself, he kicked away the material that had hobbled him, and went back to the matter at hand.

Now rid of all clothing, his hands had nothing to interfere with their perusal of his body. He began stoking and touching his chest, allowing his hands to roam where their pleasure took them. It was as though they were separate from him and there was nothing he could do about that. Not that he wanted.

Harry had gone from making noise to singing the beat of the music as he clapped the rhythm. Severus actually joined him. Well, with this encouragement, what was a Slytherin to do?

He ordered his hands to move down to his sides, to cup his balls, showing them off, to pump his cock. He spread his knees apart: that way his hands had more room in which to demonstrate the silkiness of his inner thighs. His fingertips combed through the velvet of his pubes, all the while teasing that cock which was more and more demanding until...

He couldn't stand it any longer. He gave in. Surrendered to the need of that piece of flesh which now controlled him.

It took only a couple of hard strokes and...

"Shit! Draco! Aim that thing somewhere else! You're splashing me!"

...And with a satisfied sigh – and smile – Draco slipped to his knees and lowered his head to the floor in a manner that he knew was innately graceful.

Not bad for an amateur, Harry admitted as he wiped the cum off his face with Draco's shirt. In spite of his lack of ‘education', nothing Draco did could be less than elegant and graceful.

Damn him!

And damn the challenge in those satisfied grey eyes. Bloody prat was actually daring him to do better!

Well, he could and he would. After all, he did have the benefit of those hours of vids that he'd watched with Dudley when Aunt Petunia hadn't been around.

"Does she know that you've got these?" he'd dared ask one rainy afternoon while Aunt Petunia was off playing bridge with her fellow gossip-mongers.

Dudley hadn't even deign to respond to that with his usual grunt.

Dudley allowed him to sit and watch on the condition that he kept his mouth shut. Both about the vids and what Duds did while watching. Not right away, of course. Took Old Duds some time to get hepped up enough to get an actual hard-on, which he dealt with sitting in his father's chair, the chair that no one dared sit in when Vernon was around. It was at that point, usually two or three vids in, that Harry casually got up and found something to do from the list Petunia had left for him while she was out.

But he had seen enough to have an idea on how to meet and, yes, best Draco's little routine. He may not possess Draco's natural elegance...

Harry smiled at Draco who was now sitting on Severus's other side, looking beautifully debauched with that post-orgasm glaze in his eyes, his skin sheened with sweat.

There was a vid that Duds particularly liked. One that even Harry had found interesting enough to pretend what was happening in Vernon's chair wasn't.

With a certain glee, he stood up, pulled out his wand and went to stand at the ‘stage' of Draco's performance. He closed his eyes and concentrated on what the woman in the vid had been wearing. Confident that he could, he transfigured his shirt and trousers into a male version of her outfit.

A white tank top. Tight. Ending just at the waist. So tight that his nipples tented the light material. Pseudo-leather pants. Black. So like another skin that his cock and balls protested until, with another modification, the material reformed around them. And boots. Black, with heels that gave him the illusion of being taller. Held to the calf with shiney silver buckles that rose in a line to the knee.

Now he needed a prop. A quick glance around the area located the wooden platter that had contained part of their evening meal. A swish of his wand and it became a chair, wooden, with a high back and no arms.

All right, now he was as ready as he would ever be.

With a non-chalance that he hoped fooled his stunned audience, he tossed his wand to Draco. Who satisfyingly fumbled the catch. Harry allowed an eyebrow to rise Severus-style in response to that. Draco glared at him, no longer looking so cat-and-cream.

Severus was sitting straight up in his chair, looking rather gobsmacked. Yes, there was indeed more Slytherin in his Gryffindor than maybe even Harry had known!

With a wave of his hand, Harry started the music. He sat, back to his audience, resting his folded arms on the top of the back. He let his head fall forward, all the while ignoring the beat while trying to put his memories of the vid into order.

Snape sat up straight, his action kneeing Draco on the side of the head. He couldn't tell if the gasp he heard with the edge of his consciousness came from Draco or himself.

Merlin!

What the hell was the brat up to? Besides showing off a body that...

Bloody hell! He'd seen that body more often unclothed than clothed since their arrival in the Chamber, but this...

Snape forced himself to take a deep breath before his lungs forgot how to work. Harry's clothing – if one could call that second skin ‘clothing'– shouldn't have elicited this response. So why was there a bulge hardening against the placket of his trousers?

Carefully, Snape forced himself to sit back in the chair. All right. This was only the normal response to the combined stimuli of Draco's little performance and Harry's...

And Harry's what? Transmogrification?

Snape went to take a gulp of his wine – the need to lubricate a throat gone suddenly bone dry – only to discover the glass empty. Another glance assured him that the bottle standing by its brothers was equally empty.

Suddenly sober, Snape snapped his fingers for a fifth bottle. He had a feeling that both he and Draco would be in need of something to wet their tongues as they hung down.

Damn! Harry's position certainly drew one's particular attention to that delicious arse. Whatever that material was, whoever had invented it should be knighted. Hell, should be crowned!

After taking a healthy taste of the Merlot, Snape used the bottle to knock lightly on the top of Draco's head, to pull his attention away from what had become the focus of both their eyes. Draco looked up reluctantly – though there was enough peevishness in those glittery silver eyes for Snape to know that his Slytherin brat was not all that pleased at being bested. The spirit of competition would never be far away from his brats. Not that Snape cared if it had these results.

On seeing the bottle, Draco dove for his own near-by glass.

Refilled and refreshed, Snape settled back to enjoy the show. Because, though Draco had been delightful to watch, he hadn't really known what he was doing. Moreover, he had done it more for himself than for his audience. Somehow, Snape knew that Harry would be far more interested in pleasing his watchers.

Draco fumed, though he was not about to do so openly. Fucking shit! How come no one had told him that costumes and props were allowed?

He sat back on his heels, glass to mouth, slowly sipping the excellent vintage Severus had called up. Not that he really needed it. It was only that his mouth was a little bit dry. Probably from his own exertions.

Oh, fuck! Why didn't he just admit it! Harry Potter was fucking hot.

But where had he gotten the idea for those trousers? Wouldn't it just take the cake if it was something Muggles had invented! Hell, that certainly would put Lucius's rants about the basic stupidness of Muggles to rout. Any one who could develop...

Draco's eyes squinted as Harry's arse – the cheeks and crack delineated by the fabric – lifted just enough off the seat so that it would have nothing interfering with its slight side to side sway.

Now, then, wouldn't Draco's arse look positively delectable clad in those?

Draco rested his free hand on Severus's lap, ignoring – for now – the slight tenting.

Right now there were more interesting things that required his attention.

It wasn't as easy as it had looked. Harry suddenly discovered a lot of respect for the woman and what she had done with her body. He was fit, but he knew his limits well enough to accept that he wouldn't be able to fold himself backwards the way she had.

Mind, the little that he did manage seemed to be fairly successful. The gesture had pulled up the tank top, pulled down the waistband so that his abs were bare, nothing hiding the bunched up muscles from view as he used them to pull himself back up.

Not that he was going to do that often in this little display of one-upmanship!

For a moment there, he thought he might have torn something.

So, Potter, lay off the gymnastics. Keep it simple. They seem to be liking what you're doing.

Well, what else was he supposed to conclude as he caught Draco with his mouth open and Severus holding a glass mid-way up to his?

This ‘approval' made him want to giggle but he had other things on his mind right now. Like wondering how stretchable the material of his trousers was as he sat on the seat, spreading his legs as far apart as he could without developing a groin injury. Okay, everything seemed to be holding: material and ligaments. So he swooped forward, head to the floor then raised his head so that he could gauge the response of his audience.

Yep, they seemed to like that as well.

He sat back, swung a leg up and over the back of the chair, using the momentum to turn himself around. Holding onto the back of the chair with one hand, he leaned backward until his other hand rested flat on the floor. Then he followed that up with the leg retracing its path but kept on going until he was back where he'd started. This time, he leaned back to rest the other hand on the floor. At Draco's rueful grin, Harry allowed himself to wink at the Slytherin.

Yes, me lad, this is how it's done. Let a Gryffindor show you the way.

Having displayed his body to its fittest, he decided it was time to do some teasing. The woman in the vid had begun with her boots, so that's what he did. He strutted around the chair, arms crossed behind his head, showing off the taunt muscles of his belly, just what could be seen over the waist of his trousers and the tank top that had ridden up. He wriggled side to side, rocked a little front to back, keeping his hips in time with the beat.

Having come full circle, he rested a booted foot on the seat, pushed out his hips, drew increasingly larger circles with his arse all the while he caressed the leather of the boot from ankle to top and back down again.

Severus seemed stunned, though his face was flushed a little – though from what he was doing or from yet another glass of wine, Harry couldn't tell. He liked to think it was due to the flirty gaze he was directing at the man.

Draco, on the other hand, seemed to be getting into the gist of it: he'd placed his glass on the floor and was beating out the rhythm with his hands.

Harry felt a bubble of laughter rise in him. Okay. Let's see if he was as successful with the next bit.

The next time his hands reached the top of his boot, he began playing with the silver buckle, pulling the leather tab back and forth.

"Come on, Harry!" shouted Draco.

With a hint of mischief, Harry raised a finger and gestured ‘no'.

No, this was going to go at the rate he decided...and he was going to go as fast – or slow – as he pleased.

And right now, he was in the mood for slow.

So he took his time with the buckle, and when it was undone, he sat down on the chair and did another of those stretching things that elicited a groan from his fellow bondsman.

Severus said nothing, only took another sip of his wine. But Harry was more than pleased to see that the glass was lowered to rest on a definite wool- covered mound that hadn't been there when Draco had done his stripping routine.

Taking his time, having – Harry had to admit to himself – a hell of a lot of fun, he worked at unbuckling the first boot. The leather was so supple that when he finally got to the last one, rather than take the boot off and be forced to walk unevenly, he slowly rolled the leather down to the foot.

The woman had danced around after she'd removed any article of clothing, but Harry knew better than to try that. He had no intentions of tripping over his own two feet. So he knelt on the seat, wriggled his arse, then looked over one shoulder to see how effective that was. So effective, that he did it again, this time looking over the other shoulder. That he did so over the top of his glasses added, he felt, a certain coquettishness. Especially when he batted his eyelashes at the same time.

He repeated that part of his routine – as he now thought of it – after he finished any teasing sequence. It went over increasingly well. And it allowed Draco time to yell encouragement – and other things – at him.

Severus said nothing, only slouched more and more in his chair, his eyes never leaving Harry. Now and then, he raised the glass to his lips and Harry was willing to swear that the bulge it rested on when not in use was growing larger and harder.

Having rolled both boots to ankle, Harry decided it was time to get rid of them. He rested back in the chair, hoping it would hold still – damn it, he should have thought about that before he'd started all this. Mind, he'd had no idea what he'd been about to do...

Harry raised his leg up, caressed from thigh to the rolled leather then, reaching forward, pulled the boot off, tossing it somewhere behind him.

"YES!"

Harry laughed: Draco seemed pleased.

He held his foot out, wriggling it and his toes, before he bent his knee, bringing the foot in close enough to settle on the seat of the chair. Then he did the same with the other boot and foot.

This time, the toe-wriggling bit got a smile from Severus. A rather tight one, but that probably had more to do with the tension that even Harry could feel rising in the Chamber.

All due to him. Him, the Boy Who Lived. Not because he'd lived. Or was about to engage in some screaming match with these two, his now former foes.

But because he, Harry Potter, was building up a sexual tension, all by his very own self.

And the most incredible feeling of power rushed through him.

Who was this boy?

What had happened to the somber, moody brat?

Snape couldn't help but compare the Harry strutting his stuff – with more and more confidence – to the Harry he'd brought down here. That one had been insolence and anger. So much anger held in check by a skin-thin veneer of doubtful control.

There was no sign of that anger at the moment. There hadn't been, now that Snape thought about it, for some time. Since the connection to Mother Earth.

Draco's whoop of laughter pulled his attention away from Harry who was gyrating his hips as he danced around the chair.

Here was another who had changed. Who had found the part of himself that had not been allowed free. Snape doubted that Draco had laughed as much in his entire life as he had tonight.

Snape found himself unable to prevent his own grin as Harry, leaning towards them over the back of the chair, made a production of slipping a finger into his mouth. The action in itself was sensual enough, but added to that was a pair of sparkling green eyes, spilling over with delight and enjoyment. Once the finger satisfied some Harry sense of correctness, he pulled it out and showed them the sheen of wetness. Then, with a shit- eating grin that made Snape want to rush over there and bury his aching cock in that slick, wet mouth, Harry jutted out his arse, arced his finger down on it and...

Snape felt the laughter roar out of him.

His brat was making a hissing sound, indicating how hot he was!

Oh, Merlin! And he was!

Draco shook his head, all the while laughing . Okay, so the Muggles won this one. Once they were back Above, he was going to find out this what this ‘vids' thing was. If it taught old-stick-in-the-mud Potter do move like that...

Well, they were going to be sharing a room and, in that kind of proximity, there were no secrets.

Harry couldn't believe the fun he was having. He'd finally stopped worrying about where to put his feet and whether the trousers would hold. Who cared?!

The woman had removed the trousers next and, since her example had proven so successful, who was he to vary the routine?

He pulled in his stomach and slipped his hands under the waistband, just a little startled to discover that there was a hard piece of flesh bisecting his abdomen.

Oh, well. What the hoot? Draco had reacted that way when he'd done his performance. And a quick glance verified that he was once more responding in that fashion.

That was very satisfying. But more so was the fact that Severus had gotten rid of the glass and was slowly working on the buttons of his placket.

Harry laughed aloud, the sound deep and making even his toes curl.

He pulled his hands back out and discovered that the placket of his trousers was held shut with velcro. Well, that made things easier...

He undid the waistband button and ripped the placket apart. Harry was willing to bet that his cock had given a sigh of relief!

Still, he looked down at himself and pretended to be vastly surprised at what he found there.

"You prat!" encouraged Draco. "Get on with it!"

So, of course, Harry slowed down.

He discovered that he could roll the material sticking to his hips with the same ease that he'd rolled the boots. So he spent some time rolling then unrolling the material down, off his arse – which view got him another series of whoops and hollers from Draco. And more laughter from Snape, whose hand was slowly stroking his cock.

Once he wriggled the material off his arse, he didn't spend much more time rolling it down his thighs and legs. He was pretty effectively hobbled as he bent over, his hands at his ankles. Mind, his arse seemed to have developed a mind of its own: it kept rotating, gyrating to the music, without any input from Harry.

Head down between his ankles, his arse high in the air, the thought passed through Harry's mind that he looked pretty silly right then. But if he did, no one seemed to want to bring it to his attention. He looked up, over his glasses and wriggled his eyebrows.

Snape shook his head. Where had this clown come from? And the flirt? He wondered if Harry had any idea of how delectable he looked right now.

With a grin, he joined Draco in his cheering.

Harry managed to rid himself of the trousers without falling flat on his face. Now all he had on was the short tank top that was no covering at all. Wet and transparent from his sweat...

How had the woman made this seem so easy? He couldn't remember her getting all sweaty. Maybe he should write to old Duds and ask for a copy of that vid. He'd probably have to pay through the nose for it, but, hell, what were all those Galleons in his vault for if not for a little pleasure? And it would be educational. Good exercise for stretching all those muscles he didn't seem to use at Quidditch. More flexibility might even improve his game. Besides, this was too much fun not to try it again!

Shaking his shoulders, he suddenly realised that his cock was bouncing about in counter-time. It struck him as so funny that he shoved his hips forward and did it on purpose. Draco seemed to think it was as well, because he was laughing so hard he fell back against Severus.

Suddenly, Harry got the notion that his audience was too far away.

Draco was alert enough to understand that smirk meant him no good. He held Harry's eyes as the prat danced over to him and, hips jutting forward, rubbed that cock of his in Draco's face. With as evil a grin as he knew he had in him, Draco's Seeker reflexes came into play. He caught hold of it, gave it a few hard strokes then let it go.

Harry roared and offered it to him again. Only this time, another hand reached over and gave it a tight squeeze.

"You're not done yet, Mr. Potter. Draco took everything off."

Draco exchanged a knowing look with Mr. Potter: Severus's voice was rough, a little wobbly, not all that authoritarian. The snicker they shared suddenly sobered Draco enough to realise that this was something new for him. This subtle, unvoiced delight. Shared with a...a friend. He grinned at Harry, who dipped his head a little as though to say, ‘I know. Me, too.'

Harry took a couple of steps back, his hands flirting with the tank top. He used fingertips to press the flimsy material against the hard nubs that were his nipples. He slipped his hands in the armpits, pulling the material down and out of shape. He snaked his hands up to the neckline with caressing gestures that he'd learnt from Severus and Draco. And then, finally, he grabbed hold of the neckline and, gripping the sodden material, he ripped the tank top apart.

Severus's gasp and Draco's whoop were ample reward for the fact that his hands protested the gesture.

Hands on hips, legs wide apart, Harry stood there, green eyes sparkling over the glasses which had slipped to the tip of his nose, hair plastered to his skull, skin flushed, chest rising and falling quickly from the efforts of his performance...

And Draco thought he'd never seen anything "So beautiful!"

"Yes," Severus agreed.

Panting, Harry took a grinning bow and waved the music off.

Snape slouched even more in his chair as he pulled his hand out of his trousers. With a finger, he beckoned his brat.

Harry straightened and, with a proud strut, obeyed.

"I think," said Snape, indicating the still hard cock that was riding high against his brat's belly, "there is unfinished business that requires attention."

Draco didn't need any further encouragement.

Harry gasped. He closed his eyes and let Draco's hot, wet mouth work his aching cock.

Oh, damn, that felt good!

And then there was another feeling, joining the delightful sensations raised by Draco.

Harry knew that Draco's hands were gripping his hips, keeping him steady. But there was another that reached behind him, whose fingers were stroking the line from his arsehole, along his crack to the point on his perineum where a little extra pressure made him see flashes of light.

He dropped his hands onto Draco's head, as support for keeping him upright. So that, when he came, he had something to rest against when his knees stopped working.

He wouldn't let them deal with his erection.

"I am," Snape told them in his snarkiest tones, "not seventeen!"

Well, he wasn't. And on this, their last time in the safety of the Chamber, where Hogwarts rules and regulations, where professional conduct had been cast aside, he wanted them without the benefit of any spell. He, more than they, knew what they would be returning to.

And he was selfish enough to want one last final memory of pleasure accompanied with laughter and delight to get him through the next times.

So after they caught their breaths, Snape shepherded his brats to the shower where, damn them! they did their best to change his mind. And they nearly succeeded. As he had come to know their bodies, they had learnt his, far better than he cared to think.

Still, a sudden change to cold water put a damper on his responses, though it seemed to have very little on theirs. Giggling like the little boys neither of them had been, they were engaging in a ‘sword' fight with their semi-erect cocks!

Merlin! Had he been that horny at their age? Was this easy arousal of theirs something that the Chamber would claim from them when they left?

If not, he almost pitied the house elves who would be dealing with cum- stained sheets and the scent of orgasm in their room.

Dumbledore had wanted them to be allies.

Snape shook his head back and forth, flinging droplets of water on his now dry brats who protested loudly at being showered. He had to move suddenly in order to avoid the clear sign that they were no longer all that concerned about his temper: both had towels in their hands and that newly-shared ability to communicate with a look boded no good for his arse. His dignity demanded that he not present a target for a snapping towel.

As he laughed – Oh, Merlin! Would he ever again laugh as much as he had this night? – he wondered how Dumbledore would respond to the fact that he had welded them into a team. He sat on the edge of the bed and towel- dried his hair, watching his brats, now denied one target, amid laughing curses and ouches, aim for another.

Snape knew that he would be made to pay. He would be made to pay no matter how he had accomplished what Dumbledore had set out for him to do. He smiled at Draco's yelp as Harry finally succeeded. Yes, he would pay, but this time, unlike all the others, he would have memories worth the while.

Now, he only had to find a way of preserving them from both his masters without their being aware that he was hiding something.

He would find a way: this was not going to be taken away from him.

"Some master you are!" grouched Draco as he dropped flat on his back next to Snape. "Aren't you supposed to protect me from attack?"

Snape smiled as he took in a long fill of the lithe, pale body stretched out beside him. With its seventeen year old cock calling attention to itself. "Oh, have you been injured?"

Draco put on his poutiest look – Damn, the boy looked so kissable when he did that! – turned to a side, offering Snape a view of his arse with a point of red on the fleshiest part. "Severely. So much so" – when had the boy become such a drama queen? – "that I require immediate medical attention." And he jutted out said arse and wriggled it at Snape.

Snape pretended to give that some thought. "You know, of course, that I am not a trained medi-wizard."

Harry came round the bed and collapsed on the opposite side. He propped his head up on an elbow and nodded, mien most serious. "He's right, you know, Draco. Why, without proper training, he might do far more harm than good."

Draco tilted his head back, brought the top of his wrist to his forehead and sighed loudly. "I'm willing," his voice trembled with bravery, "to take that chance."

Well, what could Snape do? He had to bend and place a healing kiss on the poor mangled arse. Of course, the kiss was not enough and he gently smoothed the hurt with a very wet tongue that had Draco sighing loudly with delight.

"Hey, no fair!" Harry protested, "I was injured, too."

Draco grinned at the complaint. "You're too far away. Let me see." Then he reached for Harry, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him closer in order to examine him. "HA! Faker! Not a mark, Severus. Nothing. Not even a little pink. He's not deserving of any of your attention."

"Then how about yours?" said Harry, offering his lips.

Snape rested his chin on Draco's hip and watched as his brats kissed.

If nothing else, he had given them each other. Above would not permit him to be with them as they had been here. But he would have the consolation of knowing that they would care and take care of each other.

Alone, Voldemort might have had a chance of taking them. But together...

Snape reached out and pulled Harry's mouth to him, then tugged Draco's down to him.

Together, the Light just might have its victory.

Propped up on pillows stacked against the headboard, Severus Snape examined his two brats stretched out at the foot of the bed like odalisques, waiting for a beckon to satisfy their lord and master.

Instead, he had decided that it would be the ‘lord and master' who would do the satisfying.

"Draco, how would you like to come?"

Slytherin exchanged a quick yet not less speaking glance with Gryffindor.

Snape mentally shook his head: Merlin help Hogwarts if these two decided to take over the place.

Draco titled his head back and gazed at Snape through a mess of eyelashes. "With love."

Snape stilled so that he was surprised to feel his heart beat.

Harry slowly changed position until he was now sitting crossed legged. Draco moved just enough so that he could lean his head against Harry's knee. Both were watching Snape with an expression that made him realise that somehow, over the time they'd been here in the Chamber, his brats had indeed become a Unit.

"We know," began Harry, "that once Above, things will not be as they have been here. That they will go back to..."

"Normal," finished Draco.

Harry nodded.

"With you the Greasy Git and us..."

Again, Draco completed his thought. "And us maintaining the facade of rivalry, even if we share a room."

"The real difference is that Draco and I will have each other."

Draco's hand snaked its way across Harry's leg to rest on the flat stomach. "And for that, we have you to thank."

Harry smiled down at the Slytherin. "Assuming that we all live long enough for what we have learnt here to make it worth while."

Draco's smile was both warm and lust-filled. "We will." He turned the same look onto Snape. "But we know that you are returning to a double life and will not be able to deal with us as you have here."

"Not to mention how Albus would freak out if he knew what we have become."

"And not just lovers, isn't that right, Severus?" The question asked with a certain dry humour.

Snape tried to stare down his Slytherin brat but knew that Harry's comment needed a response. He kept his voice soft, yet the threat was not. "Is this blackmail?"

Harry answered for both. "No. This is us knowing that this is our final time to say things that need to be said."

Snape wondered if he wanted to know. Still better to have it over, whatever it was they wanted to say, here rather than Above. He couldn't keep the slight sarcasm out of "Such as?"

Draco slowly rolled onto his stomach, then up onto all fours. He cat-walked over to the man watching them both with eyes that had gone almost a matte black, a barrier for whatever he was feeling.

But they knew him now, their Severus. They knew that he was braced for something unpleasant. Draco stopped and settled on his haunches when he was by Severus's side. "Thank you, first of all."

Harry moved, knee-walking till he was right by Severus's other side. Poor man, they had him cornered and he knew it. He pushed back a little into the pillows behind him, so he could keep an eye on both of them. And his hand was now under a pillow, wand probably in grasp.

"Yes, thank you, Severus," Harry sat back on his heels and nodded. "For giving us both the peace we needed." And he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on a slightly rough cheek.

Draco smiled. "For giving me the means to be a Black." And he copied Harry's kiss, on Severus's temple.

"For showing me that I am not alone in this battle we are waging." This time, Harry's kiss was a little closer to Severus's mouth.

"For showing me that I rejected the Death Eaters not out of cowardice, as Lucius accused, but because it is not the way." Draco's kiss skimmed from temple to the edge of Severus's mouth. He felt rather than saw the man swallow hard.

"For giving me Draco. For making me realise that I can indeed trust him at my back." Ths time Harry's mouth stroked the tight-lipped one.

"For introducing us to Mother Earth." Draco was a little more insistent against those lips. Enough so that, finally, the tension released and the mouth softened.

"But most of all," Harry nudged Draco aside to claim that mouth for himself.

"Most of all," whispered Draco as he nuzzled Severus's ear.

"Most of all," Harry pulled away from the mouth opening under his, "for the love you have given us."

"Shown us." Draco slipped his tongue into the spicy heat that was Severus Snape.

"And now we want to show you that, no matter what happens Above..." Harry's mouth found the spot under Severus's jaw that made him gasp slightly.

"That we love you back." And Draco swallowed the gasp.

What chance did he have? There were two of them and only one of him.

The thought passed through Snape's mind that he should dissuade them of his love. Shouldn't be hard. After all, when had he loved?

But they were all over him: hands, mouths, skin.

And this would be their last time.

Why had he thought they were not fully aware of the situation? That they didn't know that, once Above, this would have to end among them. Oh, he counted on each of his brats taking care of the other's needs. But for himself? For his own?

When the hell had he become so needy for them? When had they become so important?

Love and Voldemort did not go hand-in-hand. Neither did love and Dumbledore.

His two masters held him in troth out of a sense of power, never love.

And he had learnt so many years ago that love was never to be his.

And yet...

In all their games, in their...sexual exchanges, words had never played a large role.

Words.

Words he had never thought he'd hear.

Never for him. After all, who could...care for him? Other than the hysterical declarations of his mother...more out of a sense of possession and competition with his father...who had only cared that he had a male heir...

Even his grandfather had accepted him more out of sense of obligation...

As for his peers...he had attracted sneers, mockery. Disdain. Among Slytherins, he had allegiances, sexual release.

The best he'd had from the Light was reluctant appreciation of his talents, both in the potions laboratory and in the spying field.

The best he'd gotten from the Dark was manipulation.

But now his ears were being filled with...

Words...

Dear Merlin! With words of...

Of appreciation.

Of recognition.

Of...caring.

He'd allow himself that. Caring. Not...

Then a warm tongue called him beautiful. Another called him stunning.

He wanted to laugh. He knew himself to be neither. Yet...

Oh, how his inner self wanted to believe!

He tried to remind himself that none of this was real. It was only the influence of the Chamber on impressionable minds.

But how the words warmed him! How they fed a hidden part of himself that he had kept well protected all these years!

That he had even refused to acknowledge existed.

Now, every time he opened his mouth to protest, to contradict those words appeasing this hunger, a tongue would fill his mouth, play with his until he understood that his only option was to accept.

His heart filled at the voices that murmured love against his skin. And he so wanted to be able to give them back the words. Desperately so.

But he couldn't. They blocked in his throat and refused to go any further. No matter how much he wanted them to move on.

So he spoke them in other ways. With his hands, caressing and stroking skin that rubbed against him. With his mouth, returning the fervor of each kiss. With the sounds that could escape from his throat. Whimpers and moans that elicited soft, pleased, unhurtful laughter. With "Yes!" repeated over and over again, his ‘ora pro nobis' to the litany of...Oh, Merlin! Let him admit it, even if only to his hidden self! Of love chanted in this last encounter of theirs.

Draco was under him, his arse raised, waiting for his cock. With great gentleness, Snape eased into his lover's body, Harry's hand guiding him. He gasped at the perfection of the moment, linked as he was with both of his br...lovers. Harry's mouth opened and Snape bent to possess it as he possessed Draco's body.

Harry fanned a hand in the small of Severus's back, not pushing, just there, offering silent support. His other slipped under Draco's hunched hips, found a hard cock and kept to the same rhythm Severus used as he rocked himself deeper and deeper into Draco's arse.

Draco raised his hips a little higher, his forehead pressed against the bedclothes as he pushed back to meet Severus's cock. Harry tightened his grip, and Draco's moan was like the falcon's cry.

Harry had seen in Severus's eyes his response to words and added them to his building tension. "Love you. We both love you, Severus. Like you love us. Yes, we know you love us. Never forget. Oh, damn, you're beautiful like this. So very beautiful, my Severus. Our Severus. Never forget."

Severus gasped one last time then stopped breathing.

Or so it seemed to Harry.

Before he could panic, a low, keening sound came out of Severus's strained throat, which grew as his hips pumped faster and fasted until the cry was too painful to Harry's ears. At its crescendo, Severus stilled and came.

Draco slipped out from under the man who had collapsed onto his back.

Still hard.

"Let me take care of that for you," growled a rough voice in his ear.

He opened an eye and grinned, seeing the lasciviousness of it reflected in green eyes.

Then Harry's mouth claimed him as a hand gripped his balls and all he could do was moan.

Damn the Gryffindor! He wasn't letting him come right away. And Draco was so primed it hurt.

But Harry had learnt a few things about his bondsmate: he understood that Draco needed that pleasure/pain element for his release. And Harry needed to demonstrate to Draco that his needs would be met.

So, balls tight in one hand, he slipped the other under Draco's hips, which obligingly lifted for him as Draco spread his legs further apart so that Harry would have more room in which to tease him.

Harry smiled and knew it was a good thing that Draco wasn't watching: it felt particularly wicked even to himself.

As he slurped at Draco's cock like some Fortescue cone, he slipped two fingers into his still loosened hole and raked them hard against the small nub.

He paid for that: he nearly cut his lips with his teeth when Draco's hips shot up. Then he made Draco pay in turn with a sharp tug at the swollen balls. Harry raised himself up so that he could stare into Draco's irate eyes.

"You move when I tell you to move, Draco. Is that understood?"

Draco swallowed hard. This was not the Harry whom he had teased until he lost his temper: this was the powerful wizard who was going to kill Voldemort. He nodded. But then, because he was still Draco of Slytherin House, he panted through breaths and pleasurable pain, "Wait...for...your...turn!"

Harry smiled. "Oh, I should hope so."

Draco dropped his head back onto the bed and hoped that he and Severus both would never again be the recipient of that particular expression.

That marvelous mouth claimed his cock yet again and Draco soon forgot all except the fact that Harry seemed to have the entire situation well in hand. The combined sensations of a warm, wet mouth on his aching cock, the grip on his balls that teasingly crossed back and forth the threshold of pain, the fingers deep in him making him see lightning and stars.

Oh, merciful Merlin!

Let Harry let him come! He couldn't take any more. He was going to implode!

Harry finally took pity on him. At one and the same time, he deep-throated Draco as one hand released its hold on his balls and the other added a finger to the pressure already in Draco's body.

Behind tightly closed eyes, Draco saw fireworks coming out of his cock.

Using a finger to scoop up the cum that dribbled off his chin, Harry snickered. He couldn't help himself. The expression on Draco's face was priceless. And he, Harry Potter, had put that stupid, sappy smile there.

He crawled up to rest his head next to Draco and waited until his breathing had regained a steady rhythm to whisper, "I love you, you know, you Slytherin prat."

Snape slowly grew aware of his surroundings. Since they'd come to the Chamber, he had had more sex, more orgasms than he'd had in years. But this last one...

He sighed, wanting to sleep yet also feeling that he would be missing out on something if he did.

He forced his eyes open and turned his head in time to see Harry take control of Draco with a look and a tone that made him wonder what had been released in this most Slytherin of Gryffindors.

But, by then, Draco didn't seem to care. He was lost in the wonder of Harry's mouth.

Snape shifted so that he could watch. He waited until Draco had been allowed to come, managing not to snicker aloud. His Gryffindor was going to make a good top. He didn't think Draco would have much to complain about in their sharing a room.

"I love you, you know, you Slytherin prat."

That word again. And spoken with no less sincerity as it had been for him.

Draco's self-satisfied smile indicated that he believed it as well.

"Give me a minute," murmured Draco, "and I'll show you how a Slytherin demonstrates love."

Snape propped up his head and smiled at his brats. "I think you may have put your finger on the heart of the matter, Mr. Black."

Both sets of eyes focused on his. Snape compared the sated, drowsy expression in the grey to the sharp, unfulfilled one in the green. They were seventeen. They didn't need to sleep.

"I think that Gryffindors are well able to say the words but we Slytherins know actions speak louder."

Harry took up the challenge. "I haven't seen much action of late. Maybe you should...ah, demonstrate."

Snape reached over and grabbed Harry's shoulder, pulled and dragged the long body over Draco's boneless one.

Harry laughed and went willingly. But then he found himself between two Slytherins and his laughter deepened, grew more sensual, as though he knew he would soon be the one without any control.

They were kinder to him than he had been to Draco: his needs were not the same.

Snape worked on slowly arousing the man who had seen to both their pleasure before even beginning to deal with his own. A generosity that was definitely Gryffindor. By the time Draco had recouped enough steam to join him, Snape had Harry writhing under his touch and mouth. He knew that Harry would be able to deal with Draco's needs, but did Draco know what Harry needed?

"Fuck, you're sexy, Potter, when you let go."

Words. Words like Snape had needed, but Slytherin words. Would they be enough for Harry? Would he be able to understand the meaning of them?

"You only let go with us, don't you, Harry? Because we're the only ones who know you. Who accept you as you are. Not some fucking saviour, but the Gryffindor prick who thinks he's a better Seeker than I am."

Harry pulled his mouth away from Snape's to scorn, "That's because I am. Live with it."

"Fuck you, Potter."

"Fuck you back, Black."

Snape began laughing, he couldn't help it. So much for sweet words of sentiment. Though the feeling was certainly there, under the words that were anything but.

Oh, yes, they would be able to take care of each other. Snape lowered his mouth back to the nipple he had been worrying. They would be able to insult each other in full view of any listener all the while telling the other that he cared.

That he loved.

Raising his head – which caused Harry to moan pitifully – Snape reached over to tap Draco on the shoulder. "Fuck his mouth."

Draco blinked a moment then giggled. "Have to be with my tongue."

So there were limits, even for a seventeen year old!

Snape grinned back as he moved down to take his position between Harry's legs. Harry's balls were captured, but in a gentle hand. His arsehole teased with a sly finger. Snape demonstrated, very carefully, how to use teeth on a lover's erection without hurting anything that sensitive.

He also noticed that Draco was far better at following orders as he eventually had to hold down Harry's hips in order to complete his lesson.

Harry's cries of completion were caught by Draco's mouth.

They spent the rest of their time wrapped up in each other. Sometimes murmuring contentment as they lazily touched as if to imprint memories. Now and then, one drowsed only to wake when another or both couldn't stop themselves from stroking or nuzzling.

Not really speaking.

What was there to say that hadn't already been said?

Yet, finally, Time insisted on intruding into their harmony.

Snape was the first to move out of the tangle of arms and legs. He dressed then set about returning the Chamber to its former self. The shower and loo were retransfigured into non-existence.

Draco and Harry sighed and went to dress. Harry reduced their books and scrolls to a size that could fit into a pocket. Draco checked that all bedding was on the bed so that it could be miniaturised for the trip back Above. He hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on the secret compartment in the bedpost, silently thanking his mother for caring about him.

One final inspection and all that was different in the Chamber was the fire that still burnt in the mouth of the stone Salazar.

Snape went up to the two who were waiting for him to lead them back to a life of reality and all its tensions and strife. He examined the two, boys when they had arrived, men now.

Going against his natural character, he reached out and pulled Draco into his arms, kissing him on the forehead. "Remember who you are and what you are not."

Draco nodded as he returned the hug, then stepped aside for Harry.

Snape held his Gryffindor close then brushed the hair off Harry's forehead before placing a cool kiss there. "Remember that you are not alone in this. We are both with you."

"I will remember, Severus." An affirmation that elicited a nod from Snape.

As he went to turn away, a hand stopped him. Draco's.

Hand on Snape's shoulder, rising on tiptoe, Draco did as Snape had done, only he kissed him on the cheek. "Remember that you are important to us."

Harry stepped into the circle of Draco and Snape's arms. "And that we love you." Then he kissed Snape on the other cheek.

They clung to each other for a long minute then, with a sudden push, Snape spun around. Not looking back, he strode down the aisle bordered by the rearing snake heads. Side by side, Draco and Harry followed him.

Without a word, he led them out of the Chamber.

Out of its tunnel and back up to Above.

As their footsteps faded away, the fire in the Chamber dipped and dimmed, playing with shadows along the walls until it flickered out.

There was heavy silence for a moment then the walls echoed with the sound of knowing laughter.

The End

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