The man at the window gazed out soulfully at the illusion of freedom. Sighing, he ran the fingers of one hand through too-long hair, using the other hand to push back the curtains before leaning more fully on the sill. Fingers slid over the collar around his neck.

He firmly ignored the rustling of sheets behind him and the soft padding of footsteps.

Everything he had wanted in life he had gotten. Wealth, status, the respect of his peers. The tiny niggle that he was lonely had been firmly banished.

Then, only a short time ago, a lifetime of striving to be better than circumstances had allowed him, of becoming more than a shadow to other, more powerful or charismatic people, had come suddenly to an end and he was reduced to the role of a plaything. He closed his eyes firmly against the thought.

The arms that came around his waist caused him to stiffen, then relax. A burst of self-hate ran through him. He couldn't help the reaction, it was automatic, but that didn't stop the shiver that ran through him when lips fastened themselves to the side of his neck, just above the collar. Hands came to rest on his abdomen, stroking softly.

Bending his neck back, he allowed the other person more access and couldn't help the low moan that escaped.

He didn't resist as he was pulled across the room to the bed.

Warm fingers moved smoothly over his skin, arranging his limbs this way and that. Lips pressed here and there, leaving moist prints behind.

Hands twisting in the silk sheets the man gasped and arched as he was enveloped in a hot, wet, mouth. The caressing hands came to a rest on his hips, thumbs caressing the skin just above the bone, pressing him down firmly. Tongue and teeth came into play, making him shudder. One hand moved down his thigh, teasing the soft skin on the inside before moving upwards towards its goal.

The man groaned at the sudden loss of sensation and the feel of the other man moving away slightly in order to rifle thought the drawer of the bedside table. There was a slight pause, and then he moaned at the feel of a slick finger sliding into him. Moving slowly, it stretched him before retreating, only to return with a friend. The mouth on him never stopped moving. Fingers rubbed firmly on the pleasure spot inside of him, making him scream and lose control completely. There was a satisfied purr as the ravenous mouth made sure not to miss a drop.

The man's eyes were closed tightly, head turned to one side. He could feel the brush of hair and the caress of fingers as the figure on top of him moved slowly up. Lips stopped briefly to suckle at first one nipple then the other before moving up to nip gently at the junction of neck and shoulder.

Hands slid under his hips, raising them, the figure sliding in between his parted legs. The questing fingers withdrew, only to be replaced with something longer and harder. The feel of the other man sliding slowly into him made him bite his lip, drawing blood.

"Hush, don't hurt yourself. Here, let me make it better." A soft tongue lapped at his lips, licking away the blood, then sliding further into his mouth. An arm slid around his hips and the other locked around his shoulders, hand sliding through his hair, holding him steady.

Raising his head a scant millimetre, the other man breathed, "Look at me. Open those beautiful eyes." Eyes slowly opened, a lost look in them. "I know you feel trapped here. Held against your will, but I will never hurt you. I will never let anybody else hurt you. You're mine now. My consort. My lover. My companion."

A light kiss was laid on swollen lips. "The rules are there for your protection. I know they seem harsh but I must insist on you keeping them." Another kiss. "I know you hate this and the restrictions it places on you," one finger touched the collar around the man's neck, "and I promise it will come off. But not yet!" Kiss. "Not until you're more used to the way things are now!" Kiss.

Hips were moving slowly now, causing the man hiss with pleasure and arch up, arms and legs weaving around the other.

"So beautiful. So soft. So tight. So hot. So mine. All mine."

The words were punctuated with deep, wet, kisses, drugging the man, taking over his senses. All he could do was grab hold of the other man's head, holding him down, cutting off the words.

*********

A loud knocking on the door woke Dumbledore up from a deep, exhausted sleep. Muttering to himself, he swore this has better be good or the person on the other side of the door would soon be on the end of a very nasty hex.

Throwing open the door, he was confronted by the sight of a frantic Sirius Black.

"Harry's gone!"

Dumbledore was just about able to get to a chair before collapsing in disbelief. Oh gods, could things get any worse? Shaking, he dropped his head into his hands.

**********

Waking was a strange experience. Uncurling from around a pillow, Harry stretched luxuriously before stiffening from the sudden ache that radiated from his lower back. Frowning, he rubbed the offending area, wondering if he'd pulled a muscle.

He opened his eyes languidly, blinking away the sleep. What he saw, however, made him sit bolt upright, ignoring the aches and pains. This wasn't his room! And this definitely wasn't his bed! Deep green and black satin sheets slithered over him, echoing the colour scheme of the room itself, and he clutched them to him when he realised he was naked.

/What the hell.../

The opening door made him jump and move back, pressing against the headboard, covers held in front of him.

The sight of Severus Snape, dressed only in a loosely tied black silk bed robe, hair mussed around his face, made it all come back.

Face paling in memory, Harry clutched at the thin, gold, collar around his neck.

Closing the door behind him, Snape leaned against it, an expression of appreciation crossing his features.

Crossing the room slowly, he sat on the edge of the bed, lips quirking slightly as Harry tried to pull further away, sheets clutched even higher . "Come now, modesty doesn't become you. After all, I've already seen everything you have" he paused, smiling with pure satisfaction, "and very lovely it is too."

Seeing that Harry was bereft of words, Snape gestured "I've brought breakfast. After our…exertions…last night, you could do with it."

Not wanting to look away from the smirking figure leaning across the bottom of the bed, Harry darted a look to the, now obvious, floating tray which had followed Snape into the room.

A gesture caused the tray to settle down on the sheets in front of him.

Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat, he'd probably throw up if he attempted any of it. "I'm not hungry." This assertion was proved false by the gurgling in his stomach at the aromas wafting upwards.

"No?" Snape moved up the bed, lounging on the other side of the tray, "that says differently," he gestured to Harry's belly. "Starving yourself isn't advisable. If you won't eat willingly, we'll have to try a different method," he paused, head tilted to one side. "You know I can do whatever it takes."

Harry was reminded forcefully of the night before, and the complete and utter lack of control he had had. Snape had simply had to lay one hand on him and he had complied completely with every last whim. Shaking slightly, trying to battle the nausea, he reached across and snagged the least revolting thing on the tray. A slice of toast. He nibbled on it slowly, eyes never leaving the other man.

Snape's self-satisfied expression never changed as he sat up slowly and reached for a slice of grapefruit. It dripped down his hand as he lifted it to his mouth. Harry couldn't look away as the piece of fruit was devoured slowly, then the fingers licked one by one. Vivid memories of that mouth on his body and the things those long, slender, fingers could do coming back to him.

Snape waited until Harry had finished the slice of toast, occasionally picking various delicacies from the tray himself, before reaching to over and picking up a small bottle from the bedside table.

"Here, drink this," he said, offering the same.

Harry looked at the bottle suspiciously, "What is it?"

Snorting, Snape sat back, shaking his head in irritation, "It's not poison! Do you think I'd have gone to the trouble of getting you here, just to get rid of you!"

Harry shook his head. He knew it wasn't poison, but he didn't want to drink the potion. Even knowing what he did about Snape, Harry had realised that, if the other man had wanted to kill him, he could have done it years ago! However, he was well aware that Snape was amoral enough to try and slip him something even more sinister.

Mollified slightly, Snape went on, "It's a painkiller," he smiled slightly, "you must be quite sore by now."

Harry felt his entire skin light up with a blush, making Snape satisfied smirk even wider. He'd rather not think about that, that you very much! But needs must…

He reached over and plucked the bottle from Snape's hand, making sure not to touch his skin, before downing it in one. Blissful numbness swirled through his body, the ache disappearing completely.

"The wonderful thing about that potion is it can be taken both internally and topically," Snape began conversationally, before saying in a low voice, "but I don't think you'd be completely willing to lay back down and let me administer it to you. Not yet anyway."

Harry's blush deepened even more at the thought of Snape bent over him, rubbing the potion onto, and into, the aching areas.

"Thank you." Harry said in a small voice. It never hurt to be polite. Sometimes words were more powerful weapons than magic.

Severus waved the thanks away. "It's for both our benefits. I'm not interested in taking anybody not 100% willing and able. I want to hear you screaming with pleasure, not pain."

Harry swallowed, again, he didn't think he could get any redder if he tried. This was getting to be a habit. He wasn't comfortable with his ex Potion Master making such *suggestive* comments to him. Things made more sense when he was being downright nasty.

"Finished?" Harry nodded. "Then I think a bath is in order. Things got very…sticky…last night and I know I could do with one. Standing, Snape moved around the bed, holding out his hand for Harry to take. If anything, that made Harry try to move away even more. Though the headboard and out onto the other side of the wall would be nice!

Giving a much put upon sigh, Snape dropped his hand and moved to a nearby chair. He picked up a green silk bed robe and came back, holding it by the shoulders so that all Harry would have to do would be put his arms in it. "Is this better?"

Seeing Harry darted looks between the robe and himself, he said "I won't look! Promise!" Black eyes rolled and then closed, an expression of indulgence on his face.

Harry judged the distance to the door, however, he knew that he'd never get far. Biting his lip, he looked back at Snape. Then, making his mind up he slid out from the covers, holding them until the last second, before darting across the room and into the robe.

Arms came around him, trapping him against a hard body. Harry felt himself suddenly become pliant, melting like butter. Damn this collar. It allowed Snape to do whatever he wanted and Harry couldn't fight him at all!

Lips caressed the side of his neck, making him shiver. "There's no need to be shy. There's nobody here but you and me. You have a beautiful body, one that should be shown off." The last was said straight into his ear, teeth nipping at the lobe.

Hands tied the belt, turning him around, before sliding over his shoulders. "Don't worry though, I'm very jealous of what's mine and I wouldn't let anybody else see you like this"

Harry wondered if this was meant to be reassuring.

Taking his hand Snape led him into the bathroom.

**************

Being washed was another unusual experience. Something which had never happened to him before. He'd always had to do it himself, even when he was a young boy. Aunt Petunia hadn't liked to touch him any more than necessary.

Now, however, other hands were all over him. Sliding, caressing, rubbing soap into a fine lather before rinsing it off gently.

Snape had led him into the bathroom. It was a large, airy, room, with a sunken bath in the middle of it. It was very decadent, with lots of black marble and gold appliances.

Still in his passive state, Harry had barely murmured as Snape had removed the robe, running his hands possessively over Harry's body, before directing him into the steaming water. He had then seemed quite content to wash the young man gently. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen that expression on Snape's face before. Sort of contemplative, the look you got when you were gazing at a piece of art.

After about ten minutes Snape had muttered to himself and swiftly disrobed, sliding into the water himself, in order to gain more access to Harry's body.

Harry was now sat in front of Snape, back to his chest, nestled between his legs, as Snape ran his hands caressingly over every inch of his body. A wet mouth was kissing his shoulder. Harry leaned his head backwards, mouth open, breathing heavily.

In between the kisses, a mellifluous voice was telling him how beautiful he was, how soft his skin was, how he felt, what his moans were doing to the man behind him. Harry was fighting a losing battle. He could feel himself sinking into that voice. Doing everything it wanted him to.

A combination of fingers caressing his nipples, a hand curling around his straining flesh and an open mouth on his was all it took to take him over the edge. The sudden orgasm was so intense, and left him so lethargic, he barely noticed as he was carried from the bathroom, back into bedroom and laid on the bed.

The hands and mouth on him made him rouse slightly but he couldn't seem to be able to scrape up the energy to open his eyes, or take any active part in what was happening. Moaning, he simply lay there, feeling long fingers gently prepare him before a hard, lean, body moved over and into him.

The long, slow, rocking made him moan and the pressure against his pleasure spot made him arch and hiss slightly. The exquisite torment only ended when the movement inside him speeded up and he felt the sudden hot sensation flooding his insides. This caused his second, more sedentary, orgasm of the morning, his insides tightening, making the man inside him groan in pleasure.

Pulled into a tight embrace, Harry tumbled down in to sleep, dreaming of the previous night and the circumstances that had changed his world.

***********

It has happened so quickly. One minute he was standing there, minding his own business, the next minute he'd been kidnapped.

He hadn't even had the chance to fight. Hands on him, holding him down, had quickly divested him of his wand, before a muttered charm had made him lose control of the muscles in his body. Lying limply, face down on the floor, he had heard the scuffling of feet and then he was being pulled up to dangle in somebody's arms. A pulling sensation in his stomach was the only clue he had that somebody had pulled out a Portkey. The hated sensation rocked through his body, making him feel ill. Any longer and he would have thrown up. /Hmmm, that was a thought, it might distract them long enough for him to get away./

However, before he could get to that stage the whirling around him stopped. They had reached their destination.

The sudden life flowing back into his body made him lash out, causing those around him to curse and throw themselves on him. A sharp command to "Hold him down, damnit," was heard.

Wrestled onto his back Harry found himself looking up at the one person he never thought to see again.

Standing over his prone body, Severus Snape smiled down at him. The sight made him freeze. However, it was what Snape held in his hands that made Harry double his efforts to escape.

Harsh words directed at those holding him caused them to tighten their grip. Kneeling down to straddle him, Snape passed the thin gold collar around his neck. "Shush, don't worry. It's just a precaution that's all. For your safety." The collar was locked tight, words whispered over it ensuring that there was no way it could come loose.

"Bastard." Harry growled, feeling a sudden lethargy roll through him. His limbs refused to work.

A finger was placed against his lips. "None of that now."

"Go," the order was directed to the other people in the room. The hands holding him were released as the people moved away. Harry didn't even look at the door as it was shut behind them, leaving him alone with Snape.

Settling himself more fully on top of Harry, Snape let his finger move slowly over the prone man's lips, eyes narrowed pleasantly. "You have no idea how long I've waited for a chance to have you to myself, do you?" The tone was contemplative, as if he was directing the question to himself. Eyes suddenly sharpened, staring down at Harry. "Too long." He leaned down, hands on either side of Harry's head. Harry could feel the entire length of that body burning into his own. Eyes wide, he could do nothing. It must have been the shock of feeling the brush of lips against his that made his mouth open. He certainly couldn't have wanted Snape to take advantage over his mouth. The moan that came as lips moved against lips and tongue against tongue definitely didn't come from him! Did it?

What couldn't be denied was the look of supreme satisfaction on Snape's face as he lifted his head to look down at Harry.

Smirking, he rose to his feet and away, settling himself down on a nearby couch, allowing Harry to come to his senses. "You should get up, you know. It's cold on the floor."

Shakily, Harry stood and, not looking away from the man across the room, sat down gingerly on a chair. He watched the man in front of him, hands steepled, fingers resting against his lips, like a hawk.

After Voldemort's final demise at the hands of Harry, the wizarding world had become jubilant. Years of terror were over and they were more than willing to heap praise, and other more tangible items, on the heroes whose efforts had made it all happen.

Arthur Weasley had been made Minister for Magic, his entire family benefiting from the promotion. Sirius had been pardoned and had celebrated by marrying his childhood sweetheart, Remus Lupin. Hermione, Ron, Harry and Snape had all been given numerous medals and awards for their roles in winning the war. They had the world at their feet. Nothing was too good for them. Hermione and Ron had become Aurors. Snape, however, had gone back to Hogwarts. He said he had everything he wanted. Harry, wanting peace and quiet, had retired to a small village in Kent. He had more than enough money to keep him in comfort for the rest of his life. When things died down he would decide what he wanted to do.

Years had gone by, the peace and prosperity marred here and there only by one or two odd occurrences. People had shook their heads, dismissing the same, nothing could possibly harm them now. The evil that had haunted them was gone.

Then people had started disappearing.

Furtive whispers had started up, passing from person to person like lightening, growing more and more out of proportion with every telling. Old fears were coming to the fore. Rumours abounded of a new Dark Lord rising, like a phoenix, out of the ashes left behind. Suddenly it was like the former peaceful times had been but a dream, and people were waking up to a living nightmare. Suspicions were raised and people started going about their business with guarded looks. Protective magic's were being sold at an alarming rate and the Ministry was beside itself trying to find this seemingly non- existent, but still tangible, enemy.

Harry had kept up with the news, occasionally getting in contact with the Ministry to see what was happening. He really didn't want to become involved but, with every occurrence that happened, the chance that he would be left alone was becoming ever more remote. He'd done his bit and really didn't want to spend the rest of his life fighting off dark wizards. He was torn between the desire to help and the desire to live out his life in peace.

Then, a year ago, the matter struck closer to home. After being alerted by house elves to the fact that Severus Snape had not been seen for a few days, a search was made of his rooms. Nothing had been touched, all his clothes were hanging in place, potion ingredients were lying around ready for use. All in all, it looked just like he'd stepped outside for a few minutes and would return at any time. However, the people sent to investigate had told the tribunal that the rooms had an empty feeling. As though the person living in them was no longer in residence, and never would be again!

Searches had been made, Snape being a hero of the war, after all, but nothing was ever found. He had simply disappeared into thin air.

Harry hadn't actually liked Snape but he did respect him. The disappearance made him sad. It also struck him that if somebody could do away with a powerful wizard like Snape they could strike at anybody! Nobody was safe! That did not make for a pleasant realisation.

Things had died down slightly for a while and then, about six months ago, disaster had stuck again. Ron disappeared whilst out investigating something minor.

Frantic now, Harry had become a permanent fixture at the Ministry. To no avail. Like all the times before, nothing was ever found.

Harry and Hermione bonded closer in their grief. Someone was picking off the heroes, one by one, and they were no closer to the culprit than before. Whoever it was had been very clever, and had picked off the one person most like to be able to help first. Snape, whatever his faults, knew an awful lot and had a keen intelligence. He had been the one person Harry had trusted to be able to figure out any problem. Now, they were left blundering around in the dark.

All this was whirling in Harry's memories. Questions clashing in his mind, the situation he found himself in brought it's own answer. If Snape were still alive then…

"Where's Ron."

Snape smiled. "Mr Weasley is perfectly fine. Quite content, really. You can see him later."

Harry's eyes narrowed, things were becoming clearer. "You never left the Death Eaters! All this time you were playing one side against the other! When Voldemort fell all you did was go into hiding and bide your time, didn't you?"

A pleased smile alighted on Snape's face, "When you want to, you can use that brain for something other than calculating Quidditch averages, can't you? Yes, I did `play one side against the other'. You don't think I would be so stupid as the burn all my bridges, do you? When it became clear that Voldemort was losing, and losing badly, I simply chose the winning side. Quite cleverly managing to allay any suspicions as well!"

"So now you're crawling around after the next Dark Lord!" Harry was livid.

Snape simply tilted his head, blinked slowly and got up. Crossing the room, he moved in front of Harry, putting his hands on the chair's arms. Moving closer until his face was a bare inch from Harry's, he answered, "Voldemort was a means to an end. He was insane but quite good at directing attention away from anything I was doing," he moved closer, causing Harry to shrink back, "And no, I'm not crawling around. You've known me for, how long? Haven't you realised by now that I play second fiddle to no-one!"

Harry's eyes widened with realisation. Snape wasn't just trying to get as much power as he could from the next Dark Lord! Snape *was* the next Dark Lord!

"I see you've realised what's happening," he said, lifting one hand and running his fingers over Harry's face, "I just waited until the dust settled, then walked in and took over. It was quite ludicrously easy!"

Snape moved away towards the fire, leaning against the mantle. He was avidly watching every expression on Harry's face.

The sheer depth and scope of the Snape's plans staggered Harry. He must have been planning this for years! Since before Voldemort fell. Probably since before Harry was born!

"What…?"

"What do I plan on doing now? Or, more precisely, what do I plan on doing with you?"

Harry nodded, struck dumb.

Crossing his arms, Snape took on a contemplative expression, looking down at the floor, as if debating whether to share his plans with Harry. Hungry dark eyes then snapped up, causing the breath in Harry's chest to catch.

"I have no plans for the world at the moment. I'm perfectly content with what I have. Voldemort's weakness was that he wanted too much, too soon. I'm happy to let it come to me in it's own time. As for you, haven't you guessed what you're here for? No! Hmm, then a demonstration is in order I think. Come here!"

The last was a quiet command and Harry had no choice but to move towards him. Coming to a halt directly in front of Snape, Harry was disturbed to note the avaricious expression on his face. The memory of that kiss was also present. He had the disturbing feeling he knew exactly what the demonstration would be!

Moving slowly from his leant position, Snape moved forward until his entire body was pressed against Harry's. He slid one hand around the back of Harry's head, holding it steady, the other arm coming around his waist. "Ever since the first time I saw you, you've never left my mind." The words were whispered. "No, not like that," he said at Harry's disgusted expression, "I may be many things, but a paedophile I'm not. The desire came later."

Foreheads pressed together now, Harry couldn't help but close his eyes. What the hell was happening to him? Shivers were running up and down his spine. He was melting into the other man's embrace. Where was his will power? Why couldn't he fight?

"You were so young and yet so powerful. Full of life. Eager to explore everything around you. Not at all frightened of what was awaiting you." Lips were pressing softly against his now.

"I watched you for years, knowing that, one day, you'd be mine. Every inch of you. Every part of you. Heart, body and soul. It might not be something you want to believe right now but this is for our mutual benefit. Even this," he touched the collar around Harry's neck, "though it has other meanings, is just for your protection. Yes, it does restrict you in what you can do, but only for the present. You are my equal in this, in everything. You are not my slave. You must believe that, no matter what it seems like now! In time, when you are more…comfortable with the situation, the restrictions will be removed. However, for now, there's one more thing that needs to be done!"

Harry was being pressed against the wall now, Snape's hand moving around to caress him through his trousers. The feel of that hand on his distended flesh made him groan loudly, the sign Snape was waiting for in order to latch onto him mouth more fully.

Teeth nipped at his lips, tongue soothed the small hurt then swept inside his mouth, teasing him. Licking, sucking, mouthing.

Long, dextrous, hands moved under his clothing, pushing it away until he was naked, then caressed him possessively.

How they got to the bedroom Harry would never know but the feel of satin sheets underneath him made him jump. Snape shushed him, mouth busy on his throat, hands moving between his legs. Harry gazed sightlessly up as Snape moved away momentarily, only to return a few second later, glass jar of lubricant in his hand.

Naked flesh pressed down on him. Hot, wet, kisses were rained down over his face and neck before a mouth latched onto his own, supple tongue seeking, and gaining, entry.

Hands slid around his hips and wet fingers gently probed him, before moving inside. The feel of one digit rubbing his insides made him gasp and arch upwards, the movement causing him to rub up against Snape. A loud groan against his lips was his reply, and the feel of hot flesh thrusting against his inner thigh.

Two fingers now. Long, slender fingers. Reaching so far up inside him he thought he might feel them caressing his heart soon.

Three fingers had his eyes rolling back in their sockets. He didn't know how long he could go on like this. Something had to give eventually.

The loss of those wonderful fingers made him feel bereft. Clutching at the other man, all he could do was moan piteously, hips arching upwards, seeking some kind of contact.

Hands urged his legs apart and he happily wrapped them around slender hips. The feel of something hot and, oh so big, pressing against his entrance made him buck. The movement caused the object to pop through the band of loosened muscle.

Feeling the sudden pain, Harry stiffened. It wasn't supposed to hurt, was it? Low murmurs against his skin and the feel of the Snape holding himself back give him the strength to relax.

Looking down at him anxiously Snape noticed the acceptance with relief. He pressed himself further into that hot body. Slowly. So slowly. Moving backwards and forwards in increments. It took him a full minute to slid fully inside Harry.

Resting, they held each other tightly, not willing to move and end this too soon.

However, it couldn't last and Snape began moving. He couldn't believe that, at last, he had his Harry where he wanted him. In his bed, in his arms and moving so sensuously against him. Accepting everything he could give and demanding more. Dropping his head to rest against a moist shoulder, he moved even more quickly. Gods, he was so tight! The feeling of satin-like walls, rippling around him, almost making him lose control.

Harry was in heaven. He had never felt like this before. This wonderful feeling of fullness invading him over and over again. It was totally unlike all his other encounters. Whereas before he had been the aggressor, the one giving pleasure, this time he was on the receiving end. All he had to do was accept and his reward would be manifold.

The darkness shattered. Bright lights going off behind his eyelids. His entire body shuddered and arched, every muscle tightening. A hot mouth opened against his neck, mouthing desperately, striving for completion.

Harry shuddered at the hot sensation flooding him. His nerves were already sensitised and the movement inside him was only making it worse, causing another orgasm to catch him unawares. Sensation became too much and darkness overwhelmed him.

Slowly, Snape stopped moving. He never wanted to leave this bed. Raising his head he noted that Harry was dead to the world. A satisfied smirk graced his face. A job well done. Muttering a quick spell to get rid of the excess spillage, he tightened his arms around his lover and closed his eyes.

***********

Harry was standing in a room just off the main hall. The house, no mansion, was huge. And unfamiliar to him. He had no idea of his whereabouts in the British Isles, or indeed if he was still in that Britain. He also had the impression he'd wouldn't find out any time soon.

After waking him earlier with an inspired blowjob, Snape had chivvied him dressed and then downstairs. Harry had been left with a kiss and a surreptitious grope. That had been half an hour ago. He'd tried the door but it was locked. The same with the windows. He had looked thoughtfully at the chairs, debating whether he was strong enough to hoist one over his head and throw it through the glass but a warning buzz from the collar he wore stopped that. Damn thing.

Sighing, he flung himself in one of the chairs, closing his eyes and dropping his head backwards onto the cushion. He'd just have to think of another way to escape.

The sound of the door opening and the timid "Harry?" made his eyes snap open.

"Ron!" Harry leapt up and snatched Ron into his arms. Gods, he'd missed him! All the worry of the last few months caught up with him and he clutched his friend tightly to him. Arms came around him just as tightly and a face was pressed against his neck.

"Well, isn't this sweet!"

Ron stiffened at the tone and dropped his arms, moving swiftly away. Harry glanced at his friend but Ron wouldn't look at him, only gazed at the floor, face pale.

Draco Malfoy stood in the open doorway, arrogantly leaning against the wood. He ran a possessive look over Ron before switching his gaze back to Harry. "Potter." It wasn't much as greetings go but it was downright civil compared to some of the things he'd said.

The covetous gaze that had raked across Ron's body made Harry stiffen with outrage. No! Not Ron as well! He looked assessing at Ron, noting the fine clothing he wore, the overly long hair, the jewels, the sad face and, lastly, the twin to the collar around his own neck. "Oh Ron."

Ron reddened and turned his face away, unable to look at his best friend.

Malfoy smirked and sauntered across the room. Sliding his hands around Ron's waist, he gently turned the downcast face towards him. Blue eyes met grey for a moment before Malfoy bent his head and took possession of Ron's mouth. It was like they were alone in the room. Harry didn't know where to put himself. On the one hand he wanted to pull his friend away from that bastard's clutches and on the other he wanted to turn away and ignore the moist sounds they were making, giving Ron some degree of privacy. Only the realisation that he was in exactly the same position gave him the strength to take the second option. He knew exactly what Ron was feeling. Knew he couldn't control it.

Pulling away and, noting the glazed expression on his lover's features, Malfoy slid behind him, pulling Ron back, before moving his hands to rest possessively on his stomach. He rested his head on Ron's shoulder, smirking with satisfaction across at a pale Harry.

"Mine now, Potter! Not your shadow anymore. He's better than that. He deserves much better."

"Like you!" It wasn't a complement.

"Yessss, exactly like me," the last was delivered in a low hiss, "only I can give him what he really needs. What he deserves. Can't I, love?" White teeth nipped at an earlobe. Ron's eyes were tightly closed, denying everything. A pink tongue snaked out, lapping over flesh before latching onto the pulse point, making Ron moan softly. Silver grey eyes never left Harry as Malfoy sucked softly at the skin. The challenge was loud and clear. Harry dug his nails into his hands in anger.

"Draco, it's not nice to bait people."

All eyes darted to the figure in the doorway. Snape looked only at Malfoy, eyebrow raised. Malfoy had the courtesy to look a little ashamed. He raised his head, stopping his torment, however he didn't move away, only tightened his grasp more.

"Harry, I'm sorry I took so long to come back to you. It was unavoidable, however. You know how things are." He moved into the room, commanding everybody's attention. Pausing briefly to run fingers over Harry's cheek, he sat regally in a chair. "I see young Mr Weasley has found you. It will be nice for you to catch up with each other." "Ron," he directed "why don't you take Harry for a tour of the grounds. It's quite fine outside. The air will do you both good." It wasn't a suggestion.

Ron tugged himself away from Malfoy, darting looks at Snape. Seeing he was serious, Ron moved across and pulled Harry from the room. Harry was more than aware of the two sets of eyes on them and was ecstatic about getting away, even for a short time, from the man who held his fate in his hands.

************

"I must say, Uncle Sev, you do have good taste. If I wasn't already enamoured with Ron, I would probably have made a play for Potter a long time ago!" Draco was still gazing after the two. He shrugged and turned back to his Uncle, catching the smug look on his face.

"Yes, I do, don't I." His expression turned serious, "I didn't ask you here to discuss our respective spouses, however. What's your report."

"Everything's fine. No one suspects a thing. The Ministry is in tatters. They're trying to hide the fact that Potter has disappeared but we both know news like that has a habit of leaking out. If not by accident, then deliberately," they grinned knowingly at each other, "Before long, everybody will know. And then…" he looked questioningly at his kin.

Steepleing his fingers in front of him and pressing them against his lips, in a favoured expression, Severus contemplated the unasked question. Indeed, what then!

"Nothing," he said, coming to a decision. Seeing the look on his nephew's face, he explained more fully, "Why rock the boat? Let things die down. Why try grabbing things before they are ready? That's was Voldemort's downfall. We wait until the time is right."

"And then?"

"Then we strike. As you say, things are falling apart. Public confidence in the power of the Ministry grows less and less every day. Soon, they won't be able to hold it together. There'll be mass mutiny. Civilisation will fall screaming into the abyss."

"Then we strike." Draco sounded eager.

"No!"

"But, you said…"

"I said we would strike when the timing was right." Severus enlightened his nephew with a glimpse into his twisted psyche. "When everything seems hopeless, when families turn on each other, when people will sell one another for a loaf of bread, that's when we strike. When all hope is gone."

Draco was excited by the prospect, "Yes, by the time things get that bad, there'll be no opposition at all. The people will be glad, ecstatic even, to have somebody take over, direct them, tell them what to do. Anybody, even us, would be better than that madness. It will be perfect." He paused, a look of pure awe on his face, "Have I told you, you are a truly devious bastard and I am humbled by your presence,"

Severus was delighted by his nephew's grasp of the situation. Only a true Slytherin could have appreciated the scale of his plans and his nephew had proved himself yet again.

Turning to other, lighter, matters. "How is your father? I've not heard from him for a while."

"Fine, mother has him on a short leash, not that he knows it. Ha, he's still under the impression he's head of the house."

Snape smiled at the mention of his half-sister. She could be counted on to do whatever was necessary.

Draco went on, "He's been harping on about heirs again, though. Wants me to settle down with some nice, pure-blooded, girl." He snorted, "As if! I've already made my choice. Ron is better than anything he could find for me."

"Indeed, next to the Snape and Malfoy bloodlines, the Weasley's are about as pure as you can get! However, you do need an heir. Even if it's just the one."

Draco glanced across at his Uncle, "So! There are potions for that, as if you didn't know."

"You've mentioned it to Ron have you. I get the impression that he wouldn't be happy being a broodmare for you."

Draco sighed, glancing down at his hands. He hadn't said anything to his lover, knowing instinctively that Ron was not yet ready for that step. "If he doesn't want to bear them then I will. It's all the same to me." He looked quickly up, "That is, if you don't mind losing your lieutenant for a while."

Severus laughed, his nephew was so obvious sometimes, "No, I don't mind. You can do your job just as well pregnant. Just tell me in advance."

Draco nodded. He loved his Uncle and had a guaranteed position without parallel in the new world order but he didn't want to risk that by getting on the wrong side of him. His Uncle could be quite….vicious…sometimes.

"What say we take a turn around the gardens ourselves," he gestured for Draco to get up, "I daresay both Ron and Harry will have gotten themselves snared in the traps by now, and we really should go rescue them."

They grinned at one another.

**********

It was a much quieter, and very shaken, Harry that was being propelled down the corridors that evening. Indeed, both he and Ron had been snared in the traps. Harry first, trying to find a way to escape, and then Ron, trying to free Harry. The laughter that had greeted them on being found did nothing to quell the anger inside.

After they had been freed, Malfoy fussing over Ron, they had taken back into the house. For punishment. Not that what had happened could strictly be termed punishment but Harry, for one, had certainly screamed at some point.

Later, both Harry and Ron had been seated next to their respective *owners* at dinner. It was a large affair, various people, both male and female, attending, some known to Harry as Death Eaters, other's strangers to him. They all had a companion with them, marked by the thin gold collar that both Harry and Ron wore. Harry also recognised a couple of them. They were people who had disappeared over the years. A few were quiet, pale-faced as they sat at the table, picking at the food in front of them. Other, more resigned to their fate, were happy to join in the dinner conversation which flowed around them. One or two glances had been levelled at Harry as he had sat down but, other than that, nothing had been said. Harry was glad, he didn't think he could cope with questions at this time.

Snape was at the head of the table, Harry to his right. Malfoy at the opposite end, with Ron beside him. Everybody else was in between. Nothing more sinister than the weather or the price of bat's blood or the latest Quidditch scores was discussed. If Harry tried he could almost have imagined it to be just any other dinner party, not a meeting of dark wizards with a desire to take over the world.

Holding a glass of wine in one hand, the other being held tightly by Snape, Harry glanced down the table to see how Ron was holding up. Better than him, it seemed. He was laughing softly at something Malfoy had whispered to him. Eyes clashed and Malfoy ran the back of his hand over Ron's cheek, causing him to blush.

Harry dropped his eyes. It was obscene. That sort of behaviour should be between lovers, those wanting to be together, not forced into it.

Feeling his hand being tugged upwards, Harry turned in time to catch Snape's eyes on him. He swallowed heavily as his fingers were kissed lingeringly.

All eyes turned as Snape stood, pulling Harry up with him. "It's late and, as congenial as the company is, I have the feeling that my consort is overly tired and eager for bed." There was laughter at the double meaning. Harry blushed, dropping his head. He suddenly wished his hair was as long as Ron's.

"There are rooms ready for any who wish to spend the night. You may use them or not as you desire. As for myself, I take my leave of you. Come, my love."

Harry was chivvied out of the room.

Much later, lying underneath a deeply asleep Snape, Harry was overcome with the need to get away. Moving slowly, so as not to awaken the other man, he slid out of the bed. Pausing only to grab his bed robe, he made his escape.

Wandering down dark corridors, he stopped in front of a pair of doors he hadn't seen before. Pushing them open, he ventured inside. The light from a dying fire gleamed on leather and parchment. The Library was huge.

Shutting the door behind him, he moved over the shelves, breathing in the smell, revelling in the familiar aromas. He had always loved books and reading, taking any opportunity to immerse himself in tales of far-away lands and magical and mystical people. It had been a way to escape the boring humdrum of his life. The old stories had gripped him, telling tales of knights in armour and flying carpets and phoenix's and dragons and maidens. And in the tales everything had made sense. The knight had slain the dragon, freeing the maiden. The evil wizard, or vizier, had come to a sticky, and just, end. Black was black, white was white. There was no grey. No shaded areas.

It had taken real life to teach him that, although magic was real and so were heroes, the heroes weren't always brave and strong, the evil wizards weren't always foiled, the maiden sometimes didn't want to be rescued and, occasionally, the dark won.

Picking out a book at random, he curled up in front of the fire, which had begun to burn more readily at his entrance. It must have been charmed to do that.

Running his hands over the leather surface of the volume in his hands, Harry gazed in to the flames, wondering what he'd done wrong.

He didn't react to either the door opening or the figure that knelt down before him. Long fingers turned his face towards the other man's. Snape could read him like the book he held and he didn't hold back any of his misery or confusion.

Lips moved down from his forehead, over his eyes, kissing each softly, before coming to a rest just over his mouth, "Just accept, my love. Don't fight it."

Harry allowed himself to be hoisted to his feet and out of the room, the book forgotten on the floor behind him. Guided only by a firm hand in the middle of his back, he had no idea where he was or where he was going.

It was somewhere on the first floor when he came back to himself with a bang.

They were passing a series of rooms, all alike, running down the corridor, when a loud moan came from behind one of them. It was followed by an another, and another, before trailing off into a series of gasps.

Harry's head snapped to the side. That had been Ron!

Snape moved forward, chin resting on top of Harry's head, arms preventing him from moving. "Ah, I see my nephew has put his desires into action."

From behind the door a low murmuring could be head, over the moans and gasps. It was hypnotic, like the chant snake charmers used to subdue their pets.

"Wh…what…do you mean!" Harry didn't know if he was ready for what was happening behind that door.

"Draco mentioned to me earlier he wanted to introduce his consort to the joys of fisting." This was said in a tone which belied it's shocking content.

"Fis…" Harry trailed off, looking around at Snape to confirm that he had heard him properly. No, no way Ron would put up with that. The mere thought of having somebody's entire hand up… there… made him faint.

"I see you do know what I'm talking about. I am surprised. Maybe you're not as innocent as you make out." Snape had pulled Harry around by this time, sliding his arms around him, patting his backside. "Oh, don't worry. I like you just the way you are. There's no need to be scared," he cocked his head, looking at the door speculatively, "unless…" he trailed off.

"NO! Not. A. Chance. Don't you dare even think it!" Harry was adamant.

Snape smirked down at Harry's outraged face, "Think on it. If the idea…appeals to you, then maybe we can come to some arrangements. If not, it's nobody's loss. There are plenty of other, just as pleasurable, things to do."

"You are a sick, sick, bastard."

"I'm your sick bastard. You've enjoyed, even begged for, my ministrations so far, haven't you?" Snape dared him to dispute the veracity of that statement.

It was another loud moan which broke the staring contest. Harry paled, looked at the door, then, making his decision, he jerked himself free and ran off down the corridor.

Looking back as he rounded he corner, he saw Snape still looking at the doorway, before making a decision and moving after him.

Flinging himself on the bed, Harry burrowed under the covers, wishing it all away. Wishing he was eleven again, and the world was still a wonderful place. Not filled with disturbing desires and concepts.

Snape didn't even attempt to uncurl him from his foetal position, merely arranged himself around him, getting as much skin contact as possible.

"I can assure you that Ron isn't being hurt. Well, not in anyway he doesn't want to be. I know my nephew. He wouldn't have even mentioned the possibility if he didn't think Ron was, at the very least, amenable to the idea." He sighed, curling even more fully around Harry. "If Ron really hadn't wanted it he would have said no and that would have been the end of the matter. He's Draco's consort, not his slave. He has the same rights and privileges as you."

"So, if I asked you to stop touching me, you would." The question was spat out.

There was a moment's silence as Snape digested the question. Stoking his hand down Harry's side, he leaned in, "I would if you actually meant it but you don't! Do you! Deep down, under all that fear and anger, you don't want me to stop!"

Harry hid his head further in the pillow. As much as he wanted to deny the fact, he couldn't, and it was tearing him apart.

***********

Coils of Gold 2

It was the following day before Harry got to see Ron again. He was uncomfortable but didn't want to upset Ron by making him suspect anything. He'd initially decided to keep his mouth shut but, given some of the glances Ron had cast his way, he knew that Ron had already guessed. Probably Malfoy had told him. Bastard. That man had ears like a bat.

Currently, Ron was lying sideways on a couch in the conservatory, knees bent, propped up by cushions. He must be aching like buggery. Harry didn't feel like sitting and just paced up and down. Ron was getting dizzy just looking at him!

"I'm fine, you know. Just a bit…sore."

Harry really didn't want to talk about it. He looked away. Ron, however, was adamant that Harry understand what was going on. Why he had agreed to such a thing?

Ron knew that Draco cared about him. Loved him, even. Draco certainly told him enough times! While things had been…rough…in the beginning, over time, Ron had become more used to the situation. More accepting. He knew that, in the end, everything would work out, but he didn't want his friend to think ill of him.

"He does care about me, its just…Draco he tends to go…overboard… sometimes," Ron was hesitant about how to start, "He gets very exited about things. Most of the time I can talk him out of it, if I really don't want to do something, but sometimes… I know he only wants to please me but when he gets these things in his head, the best thing to do is, at least, try it, if only to save my ears from his constant whining!"

"I still can't believe you actually let him…"

"Yes, well," Ron shifted and winced a little, "He's been told in no uncertain terms that once was enough. It was…interesting…but I'm not prepared to do it again. I must confess, however, that there was a bit of curiosity involved. Well, you read about these things. Never thought it'd actually happen to me, though!"

Ron watched Harry turn bright red. Honestly, you'd think he was still a virgin! Which he definitely wasn't, knowing Snape!

Poor Harry, he didn't have a clue. Well, to be brutally honest, Ron wasn't entirely sure about the situation either, but he had a better idea than Harry! He knew that, deep underneath the posturing and arrogance, Draco was just the same as him. Looking for somebody to love, somebody to care, somebody to share all his secrets with. An equal. A companion as well as a lover. He just didn't agree with the methods that Draco, or the others, used to get what they wanted.

Yes, Draco was quite…sweet…really. When he let his barriers down, in any event. He'd been devastated when he learned that Ron really hadn't completely enjoyed his attentions the night before and was in quite serious pain now. He'd fussed, and apologised, and grovelled and `Mother Henned' all morning, until Ron had grown tired and sent him away. He was surprised that Draco had left him alone long enough to talk to Harry!

Harry was unconvinced. "I still can't believe…" he paused, "What about all through school! The nasty tricks he played, on both of us, certainly weren't the innocent games of somebody seeking the attention of somebody he liked!"

Ron blinked slowly, this had been his impression at the start as well, but as he told Harry, "Maybe at the beginning everything that happened was meant, and in a vindictive way, but we were all children then and you just know how vicious children can be! I've asked him about it, late at night, when he's more like to give me an honest answer and he says it was a gradual thing. He didn't just wake up one morning and say to himself `I'm in love with Weasley!' It happened over time, years. Surely you must have realised that, for the last two years we were at Hogwarts, he seemed less intent on torturing us! He wanted to tell me how he felt but certain actions and reactions were so ingrained in him, and we were so suspicious of him, he couldn't do anything about it."

Harry knew this was true. Malfoy had, certainly, picked on them less during the last two years of school, choosing more and more to ignore them both. He reluctantly accepted this explanation but that didn't excuse…

"What about these then," he said, flicking a nail at the collar on his neck, "if he loves you, why do you wear one of these? Why are you forced into obeying him?"

Ah, the crucial question, and one that Ron didn't know all the answers to. He had ideas and theories but the real intent of the collars eluded him.

"Sit here, Harry," Ron gestured to a chair right beside him, "I'll try to explain what I know."

Harry hesitated and then, at Ron's pleading expression, he sat.

"From what I've been told they're an ancient form of wedding symbol. A bit like the rings we use now," he held a hand up to forestall the question Harry was about to ask, "No, let me finish. Where was I? Oh yes. Wedding symbol. Well, they were used mostly for arranged marriages. You know, keeping the bloodlines pure and all that. If both parties were willing, the collars were nothing more than symbolic. However, if one or both were unwilling, charms were placed on them to ensure that they couldn't escape their duties. Couldn't run away, were forced into having sex with one another, that sort of thing, at least until they were more used to the situation anyway. The tradition gradually died out over time but certain houses, mostly old ones, the ones more interested in purity and not the happiness of their children, kept it up. You've seen the shape of the collar, so you can imagine which houses they were!"

Indeed, that morning had been the first chance Harry had had to get a close look at the metal around his neck. It was shaped like a serpent, the lock being the part where the head bit its tail. The detail was astounding. In other circumstances he would have been enthralled about the workmanship of such a beautiful piece of jewellery. Tiny rubies outlined every scale, its fangs were diamonds, and it's eyes emeralds. Ron's was similar but the eyes of his were made of sapphire.

"Anyway," Ron continued, "as far as I can tell Snape revived the tradition. Apparently, he'd been fascinated with the whole concept and had decided to tinker with them, making them better."

"What did he do?" Harry was very curious, if he knew how the things worked, maybe he could figure a way around them.

Ron shook his head, he knew why Harry was asking, and he also knew the quest was futile. Whatever his faults, Snape never left anything to chance. He answered anyway.

"The collars used to be loaded down with charms and the like, but we both know that charms can be disrupted so Snape decided to play around with his potions. Don't ask!" he said, holding up a hand, "You know how well I did in that subject! He didn't change the overall design but the collars have liquid cores now. Filled with a sort of Imperio solution."

The revelation that he had an Unforgivable around his neck didn't make Harry any happier.

"It's more subtle than the curse though. Not as restrictive. There's no memory loss. You know exactly what you're doing, and if you're given a direct order, which thankfully isn't that often, you're not able to resist. Other than that you have your own mind and will."

"It's a bit like a snitch to the curse's blunger!"

"Exactly, and, unlike the curse, it doesn't have to be constantly renewed. It sustains itself."

"So what can I, or can't I, do?"

"Well, we can't run away, obviously. You can wander about within the grounds of the house but that's it. Any attempt to go further brings paralysis and unconsciousness. You can't hurt others, or yourself, so suicide is out. I must say though, that from what I've seen none of the dark wizards want an unwilling consort. If any of the consorts were that unhappy, and it came to the point that death was the only option, they'd be freed. Obliviated, of course, but freed. But that's only happened once. The rest of us, unhappy as we are about the collars being on in the first place, at least recognise that we're being cared for, given something we were lacking before. And while they don't actually like their mates in the beginning, most have found that they've come to love them."

Harry doubted that highly, but he let Ron keep his dream. The illusion of love and affection was obviously the only thing keeping him sane.

"What other effects are there?" he asked.

"The collar is bonded to the person who places it around your neck. In your case, Snape. In mine, Draco. We have to follow any direct order they give. Others can give us orders but only when strictly necessary. It's considered very bad manners, otherwise."

That didn't make Harry feel any better; the thought of anybody ordering him about made him feel ill. He knew however that if Snape heard about it, well, the other person had better start running. He purposely *didn't* think about Snape giving him orders.

"Otherwise, it's mostly what you've already discovered. If Snape puts his hands on you, you become pliant. Unresisting. Still able to think and feel but unable to strike at him. That's why it had to be Snape who put the collar around your neck in the first place. It's part of the marriage ceremony."

"Marriage!"

Ron laughed at the dumbfounded expression on Harry's face.

"Yes, marriage. It might come as a surprise but you and Snape are married now. And it's official, your ritual…deflowering…afterwards saw to that!" Ron went slightly red, remembering his own `marriage' ceremony, and what followed immediately afterwards. Happy was not a word for his feelings at that point! He'd been downright livid but Draco had certainly been…persistent. "The tradition of the collars may have faded away but the laws around it were never repealed. The only one who can release you is Snape himself and, given the looks he gives you, I highly doubt that will ever happen."

Seeing that Harry was disturbed by this revelation, Ron made an attempt to move the conversation onto other, lighter, subjects.

"Have you got your robes ready for next week?"

"What!" the question sufficiently distracted Harry, "Why? What's happening next week?"

"You don't know? I thought Snape would have told you before now! There's a party next week. A sort of cross between introducing you and a convention for world domination." Ron was invited Harry to laugh with him. The idea was ludicrous. Harry did laugh, but a bit nervously, he didn't fancy facing all those people.

"Oh, it won't be that bad, really. Just a lot of eating, dancing and dark curses." Seeing Harry's expression, Ron laughed, "Honestly, you don't believe me do you? Nah, there'll be dancing and stuff but that's all."

"Dancing! I can't dance! No, no way. Not a chance." Harry was adamant. "I'm not going!"

Ron pulled out the big guns. "Oh, that's a shame. Oliver will be disappointed."

"Oliver!" Harry mentally slapped himself, `of course, Oliver was one of the first the disappear.'

"Is he…the same as you and me?"

"Oh yes."

"Who?"

"Can't you guess? Their fights were almost as legendary as mine and Draco's!"

"Marcus Flint!" Harry didn't think he could get more gob smacked, "But…but…I thought he hated Oliver."

"About as much as Draco hated me, it looks like! Anyway, he's coming and one or two others we know. He's been looking forward to seeing you, so they'll probably stay for a couple of days after the party."

Harry was suddenly struck by the fact that both Draco and Ron didn't live in the house. They were guests and would, themselves, leave eventually. Cold coiled in his stomach. He didn't think he could cope if his friend wasn't there.

Seeing Harry's expression, Ron hurried on "I'm not leaving, not for a while yet. You don't have to worry about that. You need me here, need somebody to talk to and both Snape and Draco are willing to accommodate me in this. In fact, I think if I hadn't come up with the idea in the first place Snape would have said something anyway."

Harry hurried over and hugged his friend. Kneeling against the couch, he tried to pull away on hearing the pained sound Ron made as he was jostled but Ron, determined comfort both himself and Harry, only tightened his arms. Harry gave in, pressing his face into Ron's shoulder.

Pulling away slightly, Ron ran his hands soothingly over Harry's shoulders. He smiled softly. Then, eyes sharpening, he glanced over Harry's shoulder. "Don't hover, Draco. Come in."

Harry moved away, back to his chair and watch as Malfoy came into the room. He seemed hesitant, as if unsure of his welcome. A completely un-Malfoylike emotion.

Drifting over to the couch, he sat gingerly down on the side, one hand stroking Ron's hip lightly.

"Are you okay? Do you need more painkillers? I'm so sorry, I didn't know…" He was cut off by Ron's finger pressing against his lips.

"Shush, I'm fine. Don't worry. It's over and done with. Forget it." Draco grasped Ron's hand, kissing the fingers softly then, closing his eyes, he rubbed his cheek against them.

Draco had never, in all this time, even glanced at Harry. He didn't seem to realise that he was in the same room. His whole attention was focused on Ron.

In fact, both of them seemed to have forgotten he was there. Lost in a world of their own.

Harry slipped away, he needed time to mull over what he had seen and heard. Figure out how it applied to him and Snape.

"I love you so much, it hurts." Draco opened his eyes. They were bright, glazed with a slight sheen of tears. "I want to be with you forever. Never leave your side." He leaned down and kissed Ron almost feverishly.

Ron wanted to tell Draco his feelings as well, but he was still confused. He did care about his lover but he didn't know if it was love or not. Maybe it was just a misplaced hate. Maybe it was both. He would have to wait and see. For now, he would accept. Opening his lips, and shifting slightly, he invited Draco into a deeper embrace.

***************

Harry was in a foul mood. Everything Ron had told him, everything he had seen or heard or experienced was circling in his mind like a broken record.

On the one hand Snape had treated him like a prized possession, lavishing every possible thing on him he could want, bar his freedom. He asked for Harry's opinion, and actually listed to him when he answered. Made him feel as if he really mattered. Him, Harry Potter! Not The-Boy-That-Lived! There were light touches and kisses and fingers ran lingeringly through his hair when they were sat close. And the sex…! Well, that was explosive to say the least!

However, on the other hand, Harry had certainly NOT been asked if he wanted to be married to his ex Potions Master. He hadn't been asked if he wanted to be dragged to, wherever the hell he was, and held captive in an, admittedly lovely, house. It was as if the marriage and wooing has been switched around and now that Snape had him under his power, he was attempting to smooth the way.

No, no matter what Snape said or did, Harry was still a prisoner. He still couldn't walk free and, in his book, that wasn't love. It was obsession.

The fact that his husband was the next Dark Lord was not even something he wanted to touch on at the moment!

Sighing he shifted on the window ledge, looking out into the gardens. In the background a song played. It suited his mood.

He sang softly along to it. Words memorised a long time ago.

"Wish I was too dead to cry
My self-affliction fades
Stones to throw at my creator
Masochists to which I cater
You don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on,
I won't let go 'til it bleeds

Wish I was too dead to care
If indeed I cared at all
Never had a voice to protest
So you fed me shit to digest
I wish I had a reason;
my flaws are open season
For this, I gave up trying
One good turn deserves my dying

You don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on,
I won't let go 'til it bleeds

Wish I'd died instead of lived
A zombie hides my face
Shell forgotten
with its memories
Diaries left
with cryptic entries

And you don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on,
I won't let go 'til it bleeds

You don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on:
I'll never live down my deceit"

He had originally heard the song a lot time ago, when the war was at it's worst. When every time he had turned around, there was another atrocity and Voldemort mocked him. It had struck him at the time how appropriate it was. Now, it even closer mirrored his life.

He never heard the door opening or noticed Snape standing there. He listed to the music, watching Harry closely until the end of the song.

Walking across, he sat down on the opposite side of the window ledge, one leg drawn up. Harry shifted his attention to him but said nothing. Everything was in his face.

"Interesting song." He said, breaking the ice.

Harry ignored the implied question, he had better things to ask.

"Why did you pick me? Yes, I know you've given your reasons before but they don't explain everything!"

Snape closed his eyes and leaned his head back, resting it on the wall. "I never hated you. Quite the opposite actually. But, I had a part to play and play it I did."

"Yeh, well it certainly fooled me!" Harry said bitterly.

"As to what attracts me to you, well, it could just be the fact that you are beautiful. Or it might be your intelligence: you can use that brain when you choose to! It might be your kindness, your generosity, your willingness to help others, to think the best of everyone, or it might just be the fact that the light inside you calls to my darkness. I'm sure you're aware of the old adage `Opposites attract'. You balance me. Influence me."

"Ha, that's a laugh. I've not seen any indication of my so-called influence. If I could influence you then I'd get you to stop touching me!"

"Like I've said before, if you really did want me to stop then I would. But you don't. You like it. As much as you twist and turn, you enjoy my hands on you. You enjoy everything we do together."

Harry looked away. He'd completely lost control of the conversation.

"Fine, you just keep on thinking that. What about all the others, you can't seriously believe that every one of them is happy."

"Oh, I believe that in the beginning they were as unhappy with the situation as you are now but, eventually, as they understood what has happening more and more, they're feelings changed. And, it cannot be denied that you make, in fact all Gryffindors, make fine consorts. The perfect match to Slytherin."

Harry looked at him, "I suppose that now isn't the time to tell you that Gryffindor wasn't the Sorting Hat's first choice for me!"

If Harry had wanted Snape to be shocked, he was disappointed. Snape grasped his meaning immediately. His eyebrow raised in surprise and his lips curled in amusement, "Really!" After a moments thought, he went on, "Ah well, I suppose that was Voldemort's influence. When there is conflicting character traits the Hat usually goes with what the person wants. In your case, you wanted to be in Gryffindor more than Slytherin, so it put you there. The fact that you fitted in perfectly just goes to show that you were more than suited to that House."

Harry was silent. It did make sense, of a sort. "You're not going to tell me what your plans are, are you!" It wasn't a question.

"No, I don't think so. Not yet anyway. You have an uncanny ability to put a spanner in the works, even if you don't mean to! Soon. I'll tell you soon."

Snape suddenly got up, holding out his hand for Harry to take. "Come, I have a surprise for you."

Harry was suspicious but he took Snape's hand anyway. It was probably better to comply.

Snape led him into the bedroom. Harry was just about to ask what the surprise was when his eyes fell on the bed. And what was on it.

Eyes wide, he couldn't move "You want to..."

By this time Snape had moved behind him, hands smoothing over this shoulders and down his arms, fingers twining with his, bring both sets of arms around Harry's body. He breathed into Harry's ear. "Nothing that you don't want to do. I promise. If you don't like it, I'll stop. Just try it, you might be surprised," he nipped at the earlobe, Harry's body melted like honey. "You know I can make you feel wonderful."

Harry pulled away slowly, moving over to the bed in a dream. He lightly ran his hands over the items on the bed. Did he really want to? The sudden vision of what Snape was capable of with just his hands and mouth made him shiver with longing. What he might be capable of doing with these simple items, what he could make Harry feel, made him almost faint with desire. Not looking at the man behind him, he nodded his assent. Snape couldn't move fast enough.

In between kisses and caresses, Snape slid the clothing from Harry's body. Turning Harry around, he pressed him close, hands moving over every inch of skin, lips leaving him breathless, finding each and every sensitive spot on his body, and paying homage to them with an almost religious fervour.

Pressing Harry down on the bed, Snape moved back, just out of reach. Harry attempted to coax him back but, with a laugh and a light kiss, he moved away.

Eye's never leaving Harry's, Snape ran his hands up his body, over his shoulders and around the back of his neck, loosening the hair tie he used. Shaking his head slightly he brought the mass forward. It had grown long, almost to the middle of his chest, the ends just brushing his nipples. Black as night and just as inviting. Harry remembered the feel of it brushing over his body. Remembered digging his hands into the silky mass in his ecstasy, urging his lover on.

Bringing his hands around to the front Snape started to slowly undress. The most accomplished courtesan couldn't have done a better job. It was a masterpiece of striptease. Harry clutched at the sheets and whimpered with the sight of each inch of place flesh coming into view, the removal of each piece of clothing. Eventually, naked, Snape rang his hands over his body one more, one hand teasing his nipples, the other slowly stroked down, wrapping eventually around his erection.

He stood for a moment, letting Harry enjoy the sight, before moving forwards and over Harry's prone body. Mouths clashed, limbs entwined, bodies rubbed against one another. Harry was well on the way to climax when Snape pulled away. He whimpered. "Please, don't stop".

But Snape wasn't stopping, just moving onto the next level. He urged Harry on to his knees. Kissing Harry breathless, he picked up the length of green silk on the bed next to them. Then, after reassuring Harry that everything would be alright, he tied it over his eyes. Moving around Harry again, touching him everywhere with petting gestures, he brought both of Harry's arms around to his back, "Only what you want." he said, tying his hands together.

Snape spent more time caressing the body in front of his, relishing it pliancy, kissing every inch of the bowed neck, caressing his inner thighs. Harry desperate for something, anything, to happen, grabbed at Snape's erection with his bound hands, rubbing it desperately. With a gasp Snape pulled himself away. "Ah ha, not yet, my love. Not yet."

He moved away, off the bed. Harry had never felt more vulnerable. He could feel Snape's eyes on his body, making his skin prickle, but the lack of touch made him feel cold. He wanted more. He was almost panting now.

"I'm here" Harry felt the bed move as Snape got back onto it, this time in front of him. Hands moved through his hair, holding his head steady as Snape kissed him once, a slick, wet, kiss, before urging him to bend slightly.

Mouth open, panting for breath, Harry was surprised by the brush of something hard and wet against his mouth. He licked unconsciously. He knew what it was. Years of tasting himself gave him the knowledge. "Please, Sev…" He wanted to taste more.

Snape was glad that his lover was enjoying this, craving it. Harry was staring to accept him. The slip he made by saying his name was telling. He granted Harry's wish and pressed the tip of his erection forward, giving Harry the opportunity to do what he will.

Moaning happily Harry licked lightly at the head, catching every drop. Then, wanting more, he took it into his mouth, sucking lightly. About halfway down he started choke. Snape pulled back, "Don't try for it all. That needs practice. Just take what's comfortable."

Knees wide, completely off balance, the only thing stopping him from falling flat on his face were his lover's hands. Strong and capable, and Harry was surprised to note that he trusted Snape not to make a fool of him in his vulnerability, not to let him fall, not to force him into too much at once but to gently hold him and let him lose himself in the act of giving pleasure to them both.

The soft mouth on him was driving him wild; there was more pleasure to be had in Harry's innocent caresses than in all the ministrations of other, more experienced, lovers. Snape couldn't stop himself from watching his flesh appear and disappear into that incomparable mouth.

"Do you want all of me?" he whispered. Harry nodded fervently, opened his mouth wider, sucked harder and was rewarded by the sudden pulsing of the flesh in his mouth and the hot spurt of liquid that washed over this tongue. Slightly bitter but sometimes bitter was better than sweet. He swallowed and begged for more.

"Oh no, not even I am capable of that again so soon." Harry felt Snape remove himself. He whimpered even more. His own body was hard and needy. "Don't worry. I've not forgotten about you. Just lie down." He helped Harry lie down on the bed, first untying his hands then, pulling each arm up, retying them to the bedposts. Then, running his hands soothingly up and down Harry's arms he said "Only what you want, remember!" Harry nodded, he had been a little apprehensive at being tied to the bed but, at Snape's words, murmured in a velvet chocolate voice, he relaxed.

Snape kissed down his chest, teasing at desperate nipples, nipping and then laving away the small hurt.

Moving downwards he slid one hand around the base of Harry's erection, one arm under his hips, lifting him up.

Harry gave a surprised shout when, expecting Snape's mouth on his cock, Snape bypassed it, licking then sucking on the tight balls underneath. He tightened his grip on Harry's cock, not wanting this to be over too soon.

Moving further down Snape bit lightly at the patch of skin directly behind, then licked, pressing his tongue firmly against him. Harry's back arched and he moaned uncontrollably. More, he need more.

Sensing Harry's need Snape moved even further down, hoisting Harry's hips even further into the air. He licked lightly over the entrance to Harry's body before delicately probing with his tongue. Harry's eyes rolled back in his sockets. Oh gods.

Enjoying the feel of the spasming hole around his tongue, Snape was reluctant to stop his play. However, he knew that Harry wouldn't last long and there was one other thing he wanted to do. He could leave this particular pleasure to another day, when he had more time to give it his full attention

The moan Harry gave at the loss was pitiful. Snape hurriedly moved upwards, kissing him, promising that, no matter what, he wouldn't leave Harry in this state for long.

All Harry could do was buck up, trying to find some sort of friction. Snape hurriedly opened the beside table and took out the lubricant.

Harry wasn't quite sure what was going on but he was desperate for Snape to do something, anything. The brush of the body over him and the feel of something hot and tight enveloping his weeping flesh caused him to shriek. O God, he was inside Snape, inside the dreaded Potions Master! Inside his husband! The feel of those tight walls gripping him, tormented him mercilessly. Snape only had to move a couple of times before the sensation overwhelmed Harry and he came, blacking out in the process.

Afterwards, worn out and, with a feeling of immense warm satisfaction in all his limbs, Harry was silent as Snape untied him and pulled away the blindfold. Pulling the covers over them he wrapped himself around Harry. A warm voice told Harry to sleep and Harry didn't resist the pull of the darkness.

*********************

The day before the dance.

Ron and Harry were outside in gardens. It was the only place they could get any peace. People had been Apparating in and out all day. The normally quiet house was suddenly full of people, most of who make Harry nervous. He didn't have his wand back yet, unlike Ron, and didn't like being unarmed in a house full of dark wizards. The fact that the majority of the people he had met had done nothing more threatening then bow to him before moving away just wasn't the point!

Another thing he needed peace and quiet for, was to puzzle through his feelings. The blend of love and hate, anger and rapture, uneasiness and comfort that centred on his husband.

His husband! He still couldn't believe it. He had a husband! Him! After he'd resigned himself to being alone! To never finding anybody who wanted just for himself. And who had it turned out to be? The one person he had thought hated him as much as, if not more, than Voldemort!

When he'd asked about it, Snape had simply looked back at him, eyes unreadable, before saying that he thought too much of Harry to even contemplate giving him a lesser position. He'd seemed quite upset that Harry had even considered such a thing.

Ron knew what Harry was going through. Had been through it himself. He smiled to himself as he remembered the trouble he had got into when he'd first been captured. His attempts to escape, both his imprisonment and his growing feelings. Draco had even had to resort to tying him to the bed at night so that he wouldn't try anything! Yes, it had been a rough first few weeks, but when Draco kept right on treating him like the most precious thing he owned, and had not reverted to the snotty bastard Ron had known before, he had started to realise more and more exactly what was happening and why he was there.

He opened his mouth to share some of this with Harry, when they were both distracted by the sudden "WATCH OUT!" and the sound of air being ripped apart.

Harry just managed to throw himself to one side before being winged by a passing broomstick.

"SORRY!" was shouted just before one of the maniacs pulled off an amazing stunt, coming around in 180 degree, flat spin, and stopping dead. It should have been impossible given the speeds they were moving at. The other rider wasn't so lucky and ploughed into one of the many Azalea bushes dotted around.

It was Oliver Wood. He had a Cheshire grin on his face and seemed very pleased with himself. "You two okay?"

By this time Harry had managed to drag himself up off the ground, "Are you mad! If you'd have actually hit me, I have been eating grass for the next fortnight!"

Oliver just smirked and then laughed outright. "Sorry, we were racing. Just got myself a new broom and `His Lordship' got in a right snit about it. He challenged me and, well, you know how I get about challenges!" Pausing, he looked around, "Speaking of `His Lordship', what the hell happened to him."

There was a general moaning and groaning as a figure detached itself from the bush. He attempted to right his clothing, snarling at the three of them all the time, before stomping across towards them. Both Harry and Ron had to bit their lips not to laugh at the sight of Marcus Flint, all round nasty bastard, with a pink Azalea bloom in his hair. They had to turn away eventually.

"You did that on purpose!"

Oliver just had a slight smirk on his lips. "I warned you. But *no*, you just had to get on an untried broom."

Flint mumbled to himself under his breath, then looked at Ron and Harry. "Weasley, Potter!" He said by way of acknowledgement, then went back to glaring at his mate.

The smirk on Oliver's face got even wider, before becoming seductive. He moved sensuously over towards his annoyed husband. One hip cocked out, he ran one hand over Flint's chest, before moving it up to his face. His other hand curled in the front of Flint's robes, pulling them both together. He leaned in and whispered into Flint's ear. Flint stared sightlessly over Oliver's shoulder, whatever he was hearing taking up his entire attention.

Moving back slightly, Oliver plucked the bloom from his husband's hair and ran the petals down his face before rubbing it against his own smiling lips, eyes never leaving Flint's, who had an expression of pure adoration and lust on his face.

Harry was amazed. He'd never have thought that two such unalike people could become so…

Ron was watching Harry watch the tableau in front of them. He had seen it before. He knew that it was Oliver and not Marcus that was top dog in that relationship. Oliver might be wearing the collar but the leash was firmly in his own hand.

"Marcus, love, why don't you go into house. I'm sure Severus and the others know we've arrived and will want to speak to you. And I have things I want to talk about with Harry and Ron as well."

Flint didn't seem too enthusiastic about it but, after another whisper, that had his whole body shivering, he took his leave.

Smiling softly, Oliver watched his husband cross the lawn. Turning back to Ron and Harry, his smile grew wider, "Well, hello. What's new in your lives then?"

**********************

Harry struggled with the diamond buttons on his new, satin, robe. They just wouldn't go in.

Full, sweeping sleeves reached to his knuckles at the front and almost touched the floor at the back. High neck, leaving just enough room for the collar to peek out. Bodice tight and well cut over his shoulders and torso, displaying his lean musculature, then spilling out over his hips and to the floor in lavish folds. It dragged behind him almost like a train. It was gorgeous.

That wasn't the problem. The problem was that it was green. Jade green to be exact, with shimmering threads of pure silver running through it. Slytherin colours. As if he needed reminding!

Muttering to himself as he tried to fasten the last button, he didn't take any notice of Snape moving into the room and coming to a halt behind him.

Dark eyes swept over him with appreciation. Damn, but his husband was beautiful. And those colours really suited him, brought out his eyes. Shame, he had such bad associations with them. Snape would have to make sure that his Consort wore them more often in the future.

Harry was just about to give up on the recaltrant button when arms came around him, "Let me". Long, supple, fingers made short work of the button and then came more fully around him, embracing him.

Harry looked up in order to thank his husband but was struck dumb by the sight in the mirror. He blinked. No, it couldn't be. But it was and the sight was already sending signals down to his rebellious groin.

Snape was dressed in a robe of a similar design to Harry's. High neck, tight bodice, fabric flaring over slender hips to swirl down the floor, but after that the similarity ended. It was made of velvet. Acres of velvet. Soft velvet, just begging to be touched and caressed. Red velvet. More precisely, crimson velvet. With a subtle golden tinge. It made his skin glow and his hair and eyes seem even darker.

With that hair loose around him, Snape was gorgeous.

"You approve?"

Harry could do nothing more than nod, the expression on his face saying everything.

Snape smiled, his pleasure at his mate's appreciation more than enough to quell any minor qualms he had about wearing enemy colours.

"Then come. We're more than fashionably late now. It's time to make an appearance."

Harry was, once again, made aware of his discomfort. He really didn't want to be paraded around in front of Snape's allies. He looked away and fussed with his robe.

"Come now," Snape pulled him around, cradling his hands around Harry's face, "it's not that bad. It will be no worse than any of those diabolical events that Dumbledore used to saddle us with at regular intervals!"

Caressing cheekbones with his thumbs, he moved closer, bending until he was no more than a centimetre away from Harry. "I have to attend. I have no choice. Not if I want to keep control. And, unfortunately, as my Consort, you have to attend as well." He kissed Harry gently, "However, if you're that uncomfortable we can make it as brief as possible. No more than an hour. Then we can come back here and…" at this he bent and whispered straight into Harry's ear.

Harry closed his eyes and whimpered. Great, there was no way he was going to be able to face everybody now. Not with this erection! Everyone would be sure to know as soon as they looked at him!

Snape kissed him again, hands leaving his face and smoothing down the front of his body, coming to rest on his hips. "Ready?"

/Best get it over with then!/

******************

Oliver was watching Snape and Harry dance. Snape had managed to cajole his consort onto the dance floor and now they were wrapped around each other. Their eyes never left the others. It was making him hot just to look at and he was sure the sheets were going to catch fire later on that night, not only in Harry's bed, but also in his own.

/Speaking of bed bunnies…here comes mine/

Flint arrived by his side, a fresh glass of wine in his hand, which he presented to Oliver with a slight flourish. "Here you are, my love."

"Thank you, Marcus." He sipped at the wine, eyes returning to the dancing pair.

Flint's gaze followed his. "They make a fine couple."

"Yes they do. It's amazing really. At school they were the last two people you would ever think could be good together!"

"Rather like us then." They grinned at one another.

Oliver was reminded of his capture and the months following it. It was before paranoia had become rampant and he hadn't been as carefully as perhaps he should have been. When he thought back, he knew that it had been ridiculously easy to subdue him.

Taken against his will, held by people he didn't recognise, he had been boiling mad at both the situation and his own stupidity.

It had been the sight of Snape that had brought him around.

However, if he had thought that his old school teacher would help him, then he had been quickly disabused of that notion. Snape had simply smiled at him. A real smile. That had been the most frightening thing about it.

Snape had then reached into a pocket and withdrawn a circlet of gold. Still smiling, he had passed the circlet to somebody else Oliver knew but had only just now recognised. Marcus Flint!

Flint had seemed a little unsure but had quickly placed the circlet, now recognised as a collar, around Oliver's neck. The sudden lassitude in his limbs did nothing to allay Oliver's fears.

Flint had looked at Snape who had gestured to the doorway, then he was pushing Oliver out the door and up a couple of sets of stairs before moving him finally into another room. Oliver had been too mad at the time to notice it was a bedroom.

"What the hell is going on? What am I doing here? What the hell is this?" he had gestured to the collar, trying to get it off, "How dare you even think that…mrph."

The last was cut off by the body shoving him against the wall and the mouth on his. Immediately, he had become compliant, his limbs loosening, but he had been too shocked to do anything but simply lie in Flint's arms.

The mouth on his has ceased to be demanding, instead become coaxing, begging to be let in. Then, as if sensing his utter lack of response, Flint had moved away slightly, looking straight into Oliver's eyes. His expression was faintly pleading, something that Oliver had never seen on the other man's face before. Oliver's expression never changed from blank shock.

Seeing that, Flint had suddenly turned and almost ran from the room, the door banging behind him.

Oliver had blinked, then slid down the wall to rest on the floor. /What the fuck…!"

After that, it had been weeks before Flint even attempted to kiss Oliver again. Months before anything else had happened. Instead, Flint had chosen to woo his mate with soft words and kind gestures. It was like he was a completely different person.

In the end Oliver had been very glad of it, if Marcus had attempted to do things the way Draco and Snape were then, very likely, he would never have fell in love with him.

"Hmm." He said coming back to himself.

Flint took hold of Oliver's spare hand, tangling their fingers together. He brought it up to his mouth, making Oliver smile. Then they sat, content to watch the others.

*****************

Author: Crymsyn
Title: Coils of Gold (3/?)
Feedback address: darkheart@t...
Rating/Codes: Most definitely NC-17 *he he*
Pairing: HP/SS, RW/DM (more at a later date)
Summary: The death of one Dark Lord brings about the rise of another. AU
Disclaimer: Not mine, boo hoo, sob. Belongs to JKR, lucky so and so. No profit, just sheer happiness and contentment at having such lovely playthings, even if I do have to give them back. No infringement, etc, etc, etc, blah, blah, blah. Oooo, look at the pretty rabbits. Damn, time for my medicine again.
NOTE: I started this as a means to stave off boredom (and rabid plot bunnies) whilst I was off work ill and it seems to have grown from a snippet into an epic!!
NOTE2: Thoughts are indicated by / /.
Homepage: None.
A/N: If you like this, fantastic. If you don't, well, o.k. then, everyone's entitled to their own opinion. However, if not, why not??
Beta: The ever wonderful Pat (aka Lillian) for pointing out spelling mistakes and making suggestion for changes where people might have become confused. Any other errors are the work of the evil spell checker. It lulls you into a sense of false security before pouncing. Also to Nik for pointing out glaring plot errors. Ta chuck.
Warning: Slight non-con, hints of Dominance/Submission. Mpreg. Dedication: To all the lovely ladies (and gentlemen) who urged me to continue this and supplied me with pointers when my muse decided to go walkabouts.

The room was dark, candles dotted here and there, casting a feeble light over the lone occupant.

Dark head bent, eyes weary, mouth drawn in thin lines, furrows etched permanently between eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

A pale hand drew yet another book towards the figure, dislodging scrolls and crystals, potions and charms.

There would be no rest. Not until he was home. Not until he was safe.

The figure didn't flinch at the sound of the opening door. Light from the corridor outside streamed in, making tired eyes blink and water. They were blotted by a convenient sleeve before returning to their incessant work.

"You can't keep on like this. You'll wear yourself out. Then what will happen?" The voice was gentle, asking, but not really expecting any satisfaction.

"Not yet. Not until I'm done." It was a dead voice, thin and wispy. It sounded as if the only thing that kept it going was the knowledge that was just out of reach.

"You haven't eaten, or slept, for over three days! Let it rest! Just for a little while. Get your strength back, then carry on." At the sight of the pale, wasted, hand simply reaching for another scroll, the other person made an angry sound, "At least stop to eat. Look, I've brought food. Just have a little. Please."

The figure stopped, knowing that there would be no peace until the other had had their way. Nodding slightly in answer, a small smile briefly crossed features that barely remembered how, before it disappeared completely again.

There was a glad sigh, then a whispered conversation, before a house elf sidled into the room, heavy tray in hands. Nervously eyeing the other two, it placed the tray on a nearby table and then hurriedly left.

"You still make them nervous I see."

There was a small, bitter, laugh in reply.

"Eat."

After a few moments to make sure that his wishes were being complied with, the other sighed again. "Are you going to work all night again?"

"If I must. I'm close. So close. Just a little longer." A hand gestured at the mess on the table in front of them," It's here. I know it! I'll find it. Find them. Then we can all be together again. Safe."

"I know you miss them. We all do. And we will find them! But making yourself ill in the process will not help!"

Seeing that his words weren't making any impression the other gave up, throwing his hands in the air. "Very well, you can carry on. But just for tonight. Tomorrow you leave this room."

He wasn't leaving until he had, at least, some small sign that his words were being taken in. Seeing the small nod of acknowledgement, he sighed and turned to leave.

"Thanks, Sirius. I don't mean to be a burden to you. I just need to do this."

"You're welcome, Hermione. And you're not a burden. You're just as much family to me as Harry is. As Ron is. I love you all. And we will be together again. I know it!"

They smiled sadly at each other.

*******************

Harry was in Sev's private potions lab, helping out. Considering the fact that he had never really liked potions, and had thus never applied himself to the subject, under Sev's personal tuition he was getting quite good. He now had a greater appreciation of the ways in which each ingredient reacted with the others and why.

While his husband had cared for him, lavished affection on him, made sure he had everything he could ask for, Harry had been climbing walls with boredom a mere month or so after first being captured. He had many things he could be doing but nothing had appealed.

He could read to his hearts content, and did so – the library was a lure that reeled him in continually. He could ride his brand new broomstick, a `Lightning Bolt' Mark 1, (and boy, had he been both pleased and flabbergasted when the broom's makers had sought his permission to name their newest, and fastest, broomstick after him!).

He could spend time with Ron, although his friend seemed to be spending more and more time with Malfoy and, as Harry still didn't feel comfortable in Malfoy's company, he left them to it. They had even gone to visit's Malfoy's parents this evening.

The thought of having to sit down to dinner with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and be polite with it, made him shudder. He was glad Sev's parents were dead. He still didn't think or feel Malfoy was good enough for Ron – but it was Ron's choice however and Harry didn't want to interfere.

He could even spend all day in bed if he wanted!

However, he was used to being around people, going where he wanted, when he wanted and the enforced seclusion of the estate was chafing at him. He had found himself wanting more and more to be in the company of his husband, his Sev.

His Sev! That was another thing that had changed. Over the last couple of months his husband's name had changed from Snape to Severus to Sev. He had the vague impression he should have felt more anxious at how…natural…the progression had been!

However, apart from his not being able to leave the grounds, Sev had not actually enforced any other rules. Had not ordered him to do anything, apart from that first time – and even that had only been to bring him across the room. He simply asked that Harry be there, in his life and in his bed, and in return he would give Harry everything he had ever asked for. Love, companionship, comfort, security, the knowledge that somebody would be there for him always. Someone who would never let him down. Never disappoint him. Never push him to one side and ignore him. Who appreciated him as Harry, not the Man- Who-Lived-Twice!

Harry had also figured out, much to his consternation, that the collar he wore only allowed his husband to ensure that Harry couldn't inadvertently harm himself or Sev in any struggle. All his actions and reactions, all his feelings, his lust and desire for the other man, were his own and always had been!

Oh yes, he was in deep, sure enough. The fact that Sev cared about him, that he was sure of. The fact that he cared about Sev? Well, he did. In a way. He just wasn't sure if it was a real emotion or something like that "Stockholm Syndrome" muggles were always going on about. He might just be sublimating his real feelings and covering them up with faked emotions to try and stay sane.

One thing he did know, Sev was never going to let him go. Never! You only had to spend one night in the man's company to know that. Utter strangers had told him how his husband looked at him when he wasn't aware of it. A blend of utter love and devotion on his eyes. But if it had been purely love and devotion then Harry might have had a chance at guilting his husband into giving him his freedom. There were other, darker, emotions coming to bear. Avarice and lust and a deep-seated jealousy of the rest of the world in their claiming of *his* Harry!

His husband was many things, conflicting things, generous and selfish, kind and cruel, warm and cold, vicious and gentle. He wasn't evil as such but he definitely wasn't good either. If anything, he was amoral, knowing what good and evil were but not choosing to have much, if anything, to do with them. Simply taking what he wanted, when he wanted. Well, you didn't get to be the Dark Lord by being nice, the hold he had over his cohorts testifying to that! He might be more understanding, and saner, than Voldemort, not as likely to kill or maim you on a whim, but you only got to disappoint him once!

Harry shivered in remembrance at the look of pure terror on the face of one such miscreant. What had been more frightening had been the unemotional and detached look his husband had given the poor soul back. It had been one Harry had been subjected to on many occasions whilst he had been at school, but notched up to the tenth power. Harry didn't know what had happened the man, and didn't ask, but he hadn't seen him since.

Harry had to admit to himself that, if he ever had to face his husband in battle he didn't think he would be able to win. He might be stronger, more powerful, but Sev was more crafty, more worldly, more likely to use any and all means to win. The thought of killing or being killed by his lover wasn't something he could bring himself to think about.

Coming back to why he was currently slicing and dicing various ingredients under Sev's stern expression, well the plain fact was that he had grown tired of being bored and had confronted his husband with a threat that if he didn't find Harry something, anything, to do, then Harry was throwing him out of their bed! Sev had blinked at this, and then smirked slightly, before guiding him down in the cellars and into his own potions room. That had been the beginning.

His husband had become Professor Snape again once they set foot in the lab and Harry really couldn't blame him. Harry had a bad track record with potions and letting him loose on potentially dangerous ingredients was not a good thing.

That had been a couple of months ago and, after a while, he began to appreciate the warm sense of peace and contentment that brewing a good potion could give you. Watching his husband glide around the room also did wonders for his libido.

His one bugbear was, why, oh why, did Sev insist on having a potions chamber in the cellar. Some ingredients couldn't bear the light he knew, but those could be got around with a few blacking out spells. There was really no excuse to keep him in the dark all the time! Humph, maybe it was just his husband! It wouldn't surprise him.

Harry finished cutting, slid the various ingredients into their jars and sorted them away, ready for use, before moving back to the worktable and cleaning his equipment. Another thing he had learned – *never* use the same knife on more than one ingredient! It tainted everything. Shame he hadn't known about it while at school but it did explain some of his more…explosive…creations. When he had confronted Sev about this snippet of information, his husband had merely said that the information was there for him to find, and if he had been truly interested in the subject then he would have found it! Harry had grumbled but had had to concede that point.

Turning, Harry treated himself to the vision of his husband, intent on his current concoction. Even dressed in goggles, thick gloves and an apron-like garment made from dragon hide, he was still gorgeous. He shivered, almost jealous of the potion, knowing what it was like to be on the receiving end of all that focused attention.

Sev must have know he was being looked at. "Get over here. The volatile stage has passed. You should be safe enough while I get out these things."

When he was sure that Harry was stirring the potion vigorously enough to his satisfaction Sev moved away and removed the heavy gloves and apron. Blinking, after removing the goggles, he focused his eyes on the lithe form of his husband, stirring first one way then the other. Sighing appreciatively, he turned and put the safety clothing away.

/Hmm, nearly done now/ Harry thought as he stirred, /just a few more minutes, and then…/ his thoughts were disturbed by the arms that crept around him and the feel of the hard body behind. His hand almost faltered before Sev's hand covered his and soft voice told him to "Keep on stirring." just before lips teased his throat with moist kisses.

/Oh gods/ Harry melted in the warm embrace, hand on autopilot. After a brief glance to show that everything was progressing as planned, Sev moved his hand back to Harry's waist, caressing him through his robes. Harry knew that Sev was a Master at Potions, had known for a long time, but now he came to the conclusion that his husband was a Master of seduction as well! He could concentrate on a potentially dangerous potion and drive Harry crazy with lust at the same time. Harry's eyes closed in bliss.

After a few minutes of sucking and kissing at the soft skin of Harry's neck, Sev lifted his head. Harry moaned with loss. Sev smirked at what he saw. Harry's hand had stopped stirring completely, just laying limply on the spoon. /Hmmm, almost done./ He thought with satisfaction, waving his hand to cause the flames underneath the simmering brew to go out, /It just needs to stew now./ He meant more than the potion.

Turning his attention to the needy young man in his arms, he whispered "I've always had a fantasy about taking you over a table in my lab, hard and fast, unable to get any purchase on the surface, giving me total control. Allowing me to do anything I wanted to you."

The breath hitched in his lungs at Sev's honeyed words and Harry didn't think he could get any harder if he tried. Moaning, he twisted around and caught his husband's mouth with his, opening lips to their widest, wrapping his entire body around that of the other man. Giving in completely.

***********************

/Well, that was different/ Ron thought to himself as he watched his husband pace up and down the bedroom.

They had just returned from the annual visit to Draco's parents. The large, echoing rooms and non-existant dinner conversation weren't something he would ever get used to. Malfoy Mansion, and it icy occupants, reminded him of the old legend of the Snow Queen and her home in the wastes of the Far North. If he had to spent any more time there he'd probably turn into an icicle himself!

He was far more used to the hustle and bustle of the Weasley household, where every dinner, tea and supper was a fight to get the best seat, the choicest food and to be heard over everybody else. He missed it. The sudden vision of Draco trying to keep his cool and arrogant persona in the midst of a typical Weasley Christmas made him snigger. Oh no, it would never happen.

"What's so funny?" The cool expression, the raised eyebrow and the icy voice was such a good impression of his uncle that Ron just couldn't keep it together any longer. He fell over on the bed, laughing hysterically.

"What? What have I done now? Oh, that just great. Laugh at me, why don't you!"

Ron tried to stem the streaming tears but he couldn't and gave up in the end, simply lying in he middle of the bed, arms around himself, giggling at the look of pure disgust on his husband's face.

Thinking his mate must have gone insane from the mind-numbing boredom of a family dinner Draco shook his head and moved off into the bathroom, tossing clothing to the floor as he went.

Ron's giggles quietened as he drank in the sight of his husband's nearly naked body moving away from him.

/Oh you don't get away that easily, I have something I want to talk to you about. Better now than never/.

A small, sadistic, grin on his face, he rose and padded into the bathroom after his husband.

Leaning against the open doorway, he waited until his husband was immersed in the water and totally occupied by the task of washing himself before he asked the question that had been bugging him all night.

"So, do you want to tell me why I've just spent two hours being, not so subtly, interrogated over when I'm going to supply the next Malfoy heir?"

Draco only just managed to save himself from drowning.

*************************

Harry had noticed that Ron had been distracted for the last couple of days. He'd stare off into space, unaware of anything going on around him. Waving hands in front of his eyes and shouting in his ear didn't had any effect and, in the end, Harry had had to resort to poking him in the kidneys, which was a rather ticklish spot on Ron, in order to gain his attention. Ron would then look round, smile vaguely, then his mind would wander off again.

It was all very off-putting and, combined with Malfoy turning up every now and then out of the blue, and dragging Ron off, it was making Harry's task of finding out what was wrong that much more difficult.

/I'll have to get him on his own soon and find out what the hell's happening. But not right now though! Oh yeh, just there…mmmmmm/

Harry was in heaven. Sitting astride Sev, head back in ecstasy. His own hands tightly gripping the bed head and Sev's hands on his hips the only things supporting him. All those hours of gripping hold of a racing broom with only his legs were paying off.

Moans, sighs and demands for "Harder…faster…now, damnit…" were the only thing that could be heard over the sound of wet skin meeting.

He'd been bored earlier, bored and horny. /Sod this, he's not the only one in this relationship. If I want sex now, I'll bloody well have sex *now*!/

Checking his appearing in a nearby mirror, he'd gone hunting. A predatory smile on his face.

Sev hadn't known what had hit him.

He'd been talking to one of his minions when something had flickered in the corner of his eye. Snapping his gaze upwards he was caught by the sight of Harry leaning against one of the open double doors, an unreadable expression on his face. He had waited until he had had Sev's full attention before giving a small playful smile, full of promise.

Everything else faded, the room, the other man talking in the background, nothing existed but his husband. His Harry.

The smile turned into a small smirk then Harry moved slowly away, down the corridor.

The other man must have thought he'd said something because suddenly he was talking to the back of a rapidly disappearing Dark Lord. He trailed off uncertainly. "I'll just wait here then. Shall I?" He never got an answer.

Harry had lead Sev through the hall, up the stairs and down the corridors to their bedroom, all the time never letting his husband get close to him. At every turn or junction he would look over his shoulder to smile, and then move on.

Sev was intrigued to say the least. Not as intrigued as he had been when he reached the bedroom though and Harry had launched himself into his husband's arms, knocking them both back against the door. Hands tight in dark hair, legs locked around Sev's waist, Harry only gave his husband a second to recover before taking possession of his lips in a passionate kiss.

They were both breathless when, a few minutes later, Harry broke the kiss. "Bed. Now," was all he said before they both moved across the room.

Sev had been astounded, and aroused when, his husband had rolled them both over until he was on top. Holding Sev's hands over his head, he had whispered silkily in his ear "Ah ah, my turn this time!"

Clothes had gone flying, buttons pinging, seams ripping, before Harry proceeded to drive his husband crazy with lust.

Which brought them to their current position.

Legs starting to burn, he speeded up his movements, bringing his head back down he opened his eyes to look deeply in Sev's midnight eyes. It was like catching fire. Neither could look away and, as their peak hit, each could swear they saw forever in the other's gaze.

The snuggling afterwards was just as good, in some ways better, than the sex.

/Perhaps I am resigned to my fate. I must be. I'd have never instigated sex a couple of weeks back. Will I get to the point where I don't even care?/ that prompted another thought, /What if I don't get rescued? What if I do? Will I even want to leave. Will they have to force me! Oh, gods, what am I doing?/

Harry pressed his face further into his husband's shoulder, causing Sev to wrap his arms more fully around him. "You're very quiet. Are you alright?"

"Yeh, just tired."

Sev rubbed his chin on the top of Harry's head, "Get some sleep. After that performance I have plans which are going to last all night."

/No more sex, no more intimate talks in the night, no more caring./

He knew Sev loved him. Loved him enough to kidnap him and hold him until he could convince Harry of his affection. Harry had got used to the attention. He didn't know if he could do without now.

*************************

Tracking down Ron was harder than he anticipated and it was a couple of days before he managed to corner his friend in one of mansion's many drawing rooms.

He was sat in front of the window, legs drawn up, nervously biting on this thumbnail and staring blindly down at the floor.

"Ron, are you alright?" Harry asked softly as he knelt in front of his friend, one hand reaching out to touch his shoulder.

Ron seemed to come to himself, frowning a little, eye sharpening on seeing his friend, "Hmmmmmm…oh hi, Harry. Yeh, I'm fine just….thinking. That's all."

"Whatcha thinking about?"

Ron's turned his face to look outside, "Oh, nothing. Nothing really. Just this and that." He turned back to see the worried expression on Harry's face, "I'm fine, really! Honest. Beater's honour." He held up his hand, the solemn expression on his face lasting about a second before he started laughing. Harry couldn't help grinning himself. It was infectious.

"You were never a Beater! Better off saying Person-Who-Sits-On-The- Sidelines, Jumping-Up-And-Down's Honour!"

"Oh ha ha, thanks a bunch."

Harry settled himself down more comfortably on the floor and watched Ron study his hands for a little while before sighing under his breath and looking once more out of the window.

"Is it Malfoy?"

"No, Draco's been fine, fantastic even."

"His family then, have they said anything to you! I know you've been to see them recently. Bastards. You're in a bad enough position as it is! I won't have them making it worse."

Ron smiled, "You always try to look out for me don't you?", he looked back down at his hands, "Its just…things have been said… No, not bad things," he hurriedly said on seeing Harry's expression, "don't think that. Just…uncomfortable things. That's all."

Harry caught Ron's hand before it made it's way back to his mouth. Ron couldn't afford to bit his nails any more, they were bleeding already. "What is it? Tell me. Please. I want to help. You can talk to me. You know you can. You always could."

Ron wondered if Harry was really ready to hear this but decided that, since he had asked… He took a deep breath and looked directly at his friend.

"Draco wants children."

Harry was thrown a little. "So. What's that got to do with you? Why doesn't he go and get himself a girlfriend? I'm sure there more than one woman out there who would be willing to overlook his, less than winning, personality."

Ron shook his head, wondering how his friend could be so dense. He knew Harry had been brought up in the Muggle world but still…

"He wants an heir, Harry. An heir to the Malfoy estates."

"An heir?"

"Yes, an heir. And most old families tend to want their heirs to be legitimate."

"Legitimate," Harry still didn't fully understand what Ron was getting at, "O.K. then, why can't he go out and marry some woman then. He can have all the heirs he wants then."

Ron closed his eyes and shook his head, despairing of ever getting his friend to understand without spelling it out to him in words of not more than one syllable. "Harry, he's already married. To me. You do remember what this means, don't you?" he touched the collar around his neck.

Harry's eyes were drawn to it, his mind starting to work furiously. /Surely…He can't mean. No, it wasn't possible. Was it?/

He raised startled eyes to Ron's face, seeing the truth of the matter there. "But…you can't…I mean, you're a man. You haven't got the right…equipment."

"Are you sure you're a wizard? Honestly, there are ways around that you know. It's not common but it can be done. If you're willing to put up with a bit of pain and the like."

Harry couldn't get his head around it. Babies. Ron and Babies. Malfoy, Ron and Babies! Oh gods.

Ron was going on, "We've discussed it and…well…I said I'd give him my decision in a couple of days. I've always wanted kids and I do love him but…I don't know if I'm ready yet."

"He's not forcing you, is he. I'll kill him if he is." And damnit, he'd find a way somehow.

"No, he's been really sweet about it. It's his father mostly. You know, he's pressing him continuously. If it were left to Draco it'd probably be years before he even started thinking about it." He laughed in remembrance, "He even offered to bear them himself if I really didn't feel comfortable about it! Can you imagine it!"

Harry's mind boggled at the thought of Draco Malfoy, large as a whale, hormones raging, screaming for strawberry ice cream and pickled gerkins.

"Anyway, I just need to think things over. It's not the most ideal situation in the world but…well, you know." he left it hanging.

"How…I mean, what would happen?"

"Oh, well…there's spells and the like but the best way is a Hermaphrodia Potion. Bit uncomfortable while it's re-arranging your insides but it's the only way of ensuring that your extra…bits and pieces…don't suddenly go `poof'. Charms can be disrupted. Not a good idea. Potion's the best way and you can reverse it afterwards."

Harry realised that the best, only, person around here capable of brewing such a potion was… He looked at Ron questioningly. "Have you spoken with… I mean has he…does he…"

"He knows. Draco went to him first. Just to make sure everything would be alright. He was quite happy about it. Glad to help as far as I can tell. Why…oh you don't think he would want…?"

Harry didn't know what to think. His husband had known about this. And not shared it with him! If he helped Ron now, was that a sign that he might want children of his own in the future. With Harry.

"Relax, Harry. I don't think you have anything to worry about. Not yet, anyway. He'd ask first. Not force you into it. And if you don't want any, then fine. Anyway he has Draco for an heir. He doesn't need another one! Don't worry about it." Ron was holding on Harry, trying to get him to calm down. He was the one who should be worried, not Harry.

But Harry couldn't stop worrying. Suddenly everything was too much. He put his head on Ron's lap, hiding his face. Ron petting his hair, trying to calm him. Questions were circling in his mind. /What if he did ask? What would Harry say? He did want children. Always had. But he'd always pushed it to the side. Like his dreams of finding somebody to love him and only him. Now that one dream had been fulfilled would the other? Did he want it to be? Was he ready?/

*******************

Severus pondered on his relationship with his husband.

He knew Harry was not happy regarding certain aspects of his life, namely the collar and his lack of freedom. He briefly toyed with the idea of taking the enchantments off the collar, making it only a symbol of their marriage but quashed it almost immediately. No, not yet. Harry might run, and that was something Severus could not, would not, tolerate. Harry was his! Belonged only to him!

/No. I can't, *won't*, live without him. I've watched and wanted him all these years. Now I've got him, I'm not letting go! He's too good for anybody else. For any of those half-wits. They don't know or appreciate the real Harry, they only see what they want to see./

Everything would be better when he had taken over. When he was in control of the wizarding world. Part of Harry's reluctance to commit himself was the fact of Severus' mantel of `Dark Lord' and everything that came with that name. Having gotten rid of one Dark Lord, his husband wasn't happy having to submit to another.

Severus shook his head. No matter, in time Harry would see that things were better with him in charge. Then he would realise that Severus was only interested in his welfare.

He only needed time and patience in order to tighten his hold on his husband's heart.

********************

Next to sex, basking in afterglow was the absolute best thing in the world.

Sweaty, sticky and utterly satisfied Harry ran a languid hand down Sev's back, making his lover give a small moan of pleasure and arch into the touch. Eyes closed he gave a murmer of disappointment as Sev slipped from his body but was content to lay there . Moist kisses were lavished on his neck and shoulders before moving down to capture a pink nipple, swollen and sensitive from earlier play. Sev nipped at the areole, making Harry gasp softly, before laving the entire nub with his tongue gently, then sealing his mouth over it, suckling.

Harry sighed with pleasure and moved his hand up to run his fingers though silky hair before curving them around the back of Sev's skull in an attempt to keep him there.

He'd purposely pushed all thoughts of babies, both Ron's and any that Sev might want with him, to the back of his mind. He'd deal with that when, if, it ever came up.

"You know, I read somewhere once that everything that you really, really, enjoy, is always really bad for you."

Sev released the morsel of flesh he was nuzzling, kissing it softly. "Hmmm. Really? Afternoon sex must be right at the top of the list then."

"Yeh, we really shouldn't do this anymore. It's probably taking years off our lives."

They grinned at one another.

Sev kissed Harry softly on the lips before saying "If I have to die then I want it to be when I'm inside you, when I'm making love to you."

Harry crinkled his nose, "I know you mean it in a nice way but, frankly, that is a very disturbing image."

Sev was about to reply when he suddenly stiffened, staring off into space for a second before moving off Harry so quickly he almost got whiplash. /Gee, was it something I said?/

Whispering a spell Sev dressed himself before throwing Harry's clothes at him. "Get dressed."

Harry stared at him for a second before the sound of wailing sirens cutting in told him what was happening. They were being invaded.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get dressed. Now!"

Harry scrambled to get dressed. Sev impatiently waited at the door before grabbing him and hurrying them both down the hallway.

They rounded the corner only to hear the sounds of battle coming closer. Shouted curses and screaming filled the air.

Jerking Harry into a nearby room, Sev almost threw him across the room before slamming the door. Moving across to the fireplace Sev moved an ornament on the mantle. Stone scraped against stone as the whole fireplace moved, revealing darkness behind it.

"Come on," Sev grabbed Harry again, pushing him into the passageway beyond.

Harry moved forward blindly, before coming to a complete stop "Hey, this is a dead-end". He turned to see Sev standing in the light.

"Stay here. This place is shielded and can't be detected from the outside. You should be safe here."

"But…"

"NO. Stay here. You don't have your wand with you. And I don't trust those bastards not to curse first and think later."

With that, the fireplace was slammed back into place and Harry was left in darkness.

*******************

Aurors meet dark wizards throughout the house, each side gain and then losing territory as the battle raged.

Draco held off a squad of Aurors at the top of the main stairs, hiding behind the parapet and firing off curses at random.

Hearing footsteps behind him he turned, ready to defend himself, only to find his Uncle moving into position behind him. Power poured off Severus. Almost negligently he picked off the Aurors in the hallway, making it seem effortless, before dragging his nephew back along the hall towards the main living area.

"Where are the others?"

"All over the house. We're holding them off but it's only a matter of time before re-enforcements come."

Severus could have been carved from stone. No emotion showed as he processed every possible scenario and outcome.

"Get everybody out. We can regroup later."

"But…

"Do what I say. This is just a battle. Not the war. We can afford to be generous for the moment. Let then think they've won. We have the upper hand. We know exactly what the other side are capable off. They don't have a clue about us. Now go, I'll cover you." He paused, "Get Harry out as well. He's behind the fireplace in the Blue Room."

Draco rested his hand on his Uncles shoulder for a second before running back down the corridor.

The sound of more Aurors charging up the stairs made Severus straighten, a frighteningly malicious smile playing on his features. No one was getting past him. He moved forward into the battle. The Aurors didn't stand a chance.

******************

It must have been a good ten minutes since he'd been locked in the dark and Harry was starting to panic.

What was going on? Where was Sev? Was he hurt? Was he dead? What if he never came back. This place was shielded, if he didn't come back then no-body would know he was in here. He'd be left here, probably starve to death.

The last thought made his panic full blown and his fingers scrabbled over rough stones, trying to find a way, any way, out. He was in serious danger of hyperventilating when there was a quiet click and a chink of light fell across his face.

Pushing open the fireplace Harry fell onto the floor in front of it, battling to get air in his lungs. He turned onto his back, facing the ceiling, panting.

Loud shouting from outside brought him to his senses. He didn't know if it was Aurors or Sev's allies and he lay there frozen until the sounds moved away.

He had to get out of here. Get somewhere safe. Without his wand he was a sitting duck. But where…

/Ron!! Ron has his wand. I can get to him and we can wait it out together. I hope he's still here./

He moved to the door and pressed his ear against it, listening for the slightest noise. Hearing nothing, he opened the door slight and peeked through the gap. The hallway was deserted. He could hear the sounds of battle off towards the left but there was silence in the directions of the bedrooms. Jerking the door open he hightailed it down the corridor.

******************