First Comes Demon

Part I

By Kat Reitz and Tzigane

       

The fact of the matter was that Draco Malfoy didn't want to go to Hogwarts again. He didn't care that it was their tenth year reunion. He didn't care that Harry bloody Potter had not only defeated Voldemort a year and a half before, he'd also managed to win the World Quidditch Cup for England, and that he'd even gotten married to that stupid Granger girl and managed to start reproducing tons of little children. No, he didn't care a whit about any of that. He was too tired to care about any of that, and even if he did, he certainly wouldn't let anyone know.

With care, he hitched his hip a little more to the side and the baby there gurgled happily, delighted with the tiny motion. That was the nice thing about it, he decided. He was tired, but he was also rather happy with himself and life in general for the first time in years. He hoped that his father had been as enraptured by him, but he couldn't say for certain that was so. It would have been somewhat difficult to ask, considering that Lucius was in Azkaban and he certainly had no intentions of going there, even to visit.

"There, there, sweet demon," he said, and lightly plucked the bottle out of the warm water in which he'd heated it. "There, there..."

It wasn't that he was a spectacular sort of parent, he figured; but he'd much rather do this than allow one of the house elves to do it, even if Dobby had come back once Lucius was in Azkaban. The little elf had been ecstatic when Draco had offered to equal Dumbledore's payment of him, and the rest of the Malfoy house elves had been just as delighted to have Dobby back to tell them what to do again. It worked out all around.

He tested the milk upon his wrist before shifting the child upward and lightly placing the nipple into his mouth. Silvery eyes closed, white-blond hair standing on end even as Draco walked back towards the study and his account books. With a sigh, he sank into his chair and proceeded to ignore the lot of them, watching instead as his son greedily devoured the milk with all the air of a little glutton.

Unlike the Weasleys, Malfoys rarely (if ever) managed more than a single child in a generation. His own father had been an only child, as had been his grandfather and his father's grandfather. It was an unbroken line of succession, but it was one constantly in danger of dying out; he wouldn't trust anyone enough to keep his child for him to go somewhere else, even if it was just for the weekend.

It probably would have sounded ridiculous to anyone who had known him as a child. He'd been a pampered brat, he knew, but that also was a precept of being a Malfoy child -- not only that you were likely to be the only one, but also that you were very likely to be spoiled completely rotten. He had no doubt that he'd do just the same to Damon. He'd been through altogether too much to get the child; he certainly wasn't going to do anything that might cost him all of that time, work and emotion!

One of the lovely things about being a wizard was that there were ways around certain biological facts. It was just as well. Women actively made Draco just a bit nauseous since Pansy had tried to fondle him in sixth year, and so he'd been hard put to figure out what to do about getting an heir. He knew he needed one. He knew he wanted one. And he knew that there was no way he was having sex with a woman, so that was right out. Permanently.

That being the case, he had begun doing research. He'd checked all of the books in his father's library. He'd consulted certain mediwizards in Sweden and Switzerland and even France. And he'd pulled it off. It had taken nine painstaking months of sitting beside a magical womb, weaving tender spells and songs and forming most carefully the child that slept within it. He'd been so out of it that no one had been welcome at the mansion, and if it hadn't been for Dobby's return and the absolute care the house elf had flooded him with, he'd have been an utter wreck by the time he was done.

He never, ever, ever wanted to do that again.

So, that left him in the position of overprotective, overbearing, and completely possessive parent. He hadn't been out more than twice in the four months since Damon's birth and he truly had no urge to go anywhere. Why should he? Everything was provided, his investments were all doing fine, and he'd much rather devote himself to being a full-time father, unlike his own parents had chosen to do. He was pleased with himself. He was pleased with his life.

And even if he did sort of wish that he could go back to Hogwarts, just to see what that one person was doing. Well. Damon was only four months old...

But...

The sound of a little dozing noise reached his ears, as Damon decided he'd drank enough -- almost the entire bottle -- and nodded off in Draco's arms, the nipple still half in his mouth. Damon knew just when it was time for his afternoon nap, often taken in the arms of his father. Four months, and he was already on the path towards being perfectly spoiled. He was a sweet child, didn't cry very often, cooed and showed a lot of interest in the world around him. Certainly well behaved enough to carry around for a weekend at Hogwarts. The school was a safe haven for wizards of all ages.

Perhaps Draco was just rationalizing because he wanted to see that one person one more time.

Then again, they hadn't said 'no children allowed', now had they? With a wicked grin, he whispered down to Damon, "We're taking a trip, sweet demon. You'll really like where I'm taking you, and we'll shock the hell out of all of them." Oh, yes, they would... and he'd find out just what he wanted to know.

       

"So, everyone's replied, then?" Harry asked Hermione, a brow arched in curiosity.

"Everyone," his wife confirmed with a slight smile. "Well, only a few of the Slytherins, of course."

"Figures," Ron said from some feet away, playing with their five year old, little blocks set up all around him -- he had been built into the castle. "Unfriendly lot of bastards, half of them Death Eaters..."

"Malfoy's coming," Hermione pointed out, looking down her little checklist. The sleek grey owl had drifted in that very morning with the short reply that Draco had sent.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked. "I thought he'd drifted off the edge of the world or something, the way he just kept not showing up... I mean, he did do an awfully fast disappearing act after graduation..."

"Bet he's a you-know-what," Ron said in agreement, nodding knowledgeably.

"I bet he just hasn't worked," Hermione thought, making a note beside the name. "With the Malfoy fortune, why would he have to do anything other than whatever made him happy?"

"Whatever the case, he's been awfully quiet," Harry agreed, sitting down next to her and beginning to magically reproduce the little folders of information they'd created to hand out to the other members of the class of '98 as they arrived. "That usually meant he was up to something."

"I wouldn't doubt at all that he's been up to something for the past ten years!" Ron declared, making a gesture with his hand that sent blocks flying. Little James took one look at his destroyed castle wall and promptly burst into tears.

"Oh, it's not that bad," Harry said, leaning down and putting the blocks in place. "See? All fixed. Uncle Ron is sorry for being a goofy git and knocking down the castle walls."

"'t took a lot of work," James frowned petulantly, leaning up to sling his arms around his father. "Som'day, I wan to be as big as you are, and make things as good, and, and..."

"And you will be," Harry promised and pulled James up to settle on a hip, kissing him on the forehead. "Can Uncle Ron come out, or does the great big fire breathing dragon have to stay trapped?"

"Really, Harry..." Hermione laughed.

"Unca Ron can come out," James decided, squeezing his father's neck. "Should I get Cedric? D'we get to go with you, too?"

"You get to go spend the weekend with your Grandpa Sirius and Grandy Remus. Won't that be exciting?" Hermione asked him. "They'll be here this afternoon, and I made them promise not to give you too much chocolate..."

"...which means they'll give you tons," Harry whispered in James's ear.

Ron carefully stood up, and tried to step over the castle walls. "Neville's coming, isn't he? You two have any idea if the faculty's changed much, or...?"

"I wan' tons," James agreed merrily, mugging his father again. "'ll get to play fort with them!"

"All you like," Harry promised.

"Well, aside from Professors Vector and Binns, they're all the same," Hermione replied. "Professor Binns finally gave up the ghost, so to speak, and Professor Vector is on sabbatical."

Ron shook his head as he ruffled James's hair after unseating only one block of the castle. "I liked Vector -- wish it had've been Snape on the sabbatical."

Harry snickered at that, shaking his head as he sat James down and sent him to play again. "No such luck. That greasy bastard's eternal," he declared once James had slipped from the room.

"Language," Hermione said sternly.

"Don't want the children sounding like we do," Ron grinned at Hermione. "So, are you two taking this trip as a little... ah, romantic vacation for yourselves, too?"

Harry wriggled his eyebrows, grinned and gave Ron a look as if to say, 'What do you think?'

Hermione's snicker gave him away, unfortunately, and the redhead looked at her with an inquiring gaze. "As if we'd have time for romantic anything," she denied dryly. "We're organizing the whole thing. Right down to the last minute, I might add."

Harry rolled his eyes mournfully, shaking his head. "Hermione, I really think that everyone doesn't want to be pigeonholed into doing certain things the entire time..."

"What sort of things are we doing?" Ron asked.

"Oh, all sorts of things! There's even going to be Quidditch, if you old men can still ride broomsticks," she teased, grinning at, both of them. "Aside from that, we're having tea Saturday and Sunday, a lot of games, swimming in the lake Saturday afternoon," for those who were brave enough to get in even with the giant octopus that resided there, "and a dance Saturday night."

"Hey, I think that Harry shouldn't be allowed to play in the Quidditch game," Ron decided, looking a little wild-eyed. "Considering what you do for a living, Harry!"

Harry just grinned at him, though. "Tell you what. I'll even agree to play Keeper, just to keep from having the advantage. But you don't want Gryffindor to win?"

"Yeah, but who wants to play a five minute game, Mr. Snitch-Catcher?" Ron grinned, leaning against the table Hermione was sitting at. "Anyway, if Malfoy's dropped off the face of the earth, I doubt he's been playing Quidditch."

"Well, one way or the other, it will all be quite a great deal of fun. I think Harry had ought to referee," Hermione added, winking at him. "It'll be interesting to see how everyone still manages!"

Ron nodded to himself, looking down the list over Hermione's shoulder. "So... any ideas on who's bringing their spouses? I want to know how many of us poor singles there are."

"Probably two -- wait, Herm, do you know if Neville married or not?"

She nodded. "A Ravenclaw, I believe, a year younger than us. I forget her name just now... Malfoy seems to be single, according to this. He isn't bringing anyone with..."

"Hey, I've just had bad luck!" Ron growled, pushing at Harry as the other man sidled up towards his wife and his best friend.

Harry laughed. "Well, you did date Parvati for almost six years..."

"And then she left me for 'a better offer' without any warning." Ron sniffed slightly. "I'll probably never get over her. The bitch."

"Well, you hadn't asked her to marry you and it had been six years," Hermione reminded. "Girls don't like to wait that long."

"I was... waiting for the right time," the redhead sighed. "Can't be any worse than Fred and George -- they've got two years up on me, and they're both still single."

Harry shot a glance at Hermione. "They're going to be single forever," he said dryly. "After all, who'd marry both of them? They rather come as a set, don't they?"

"Maybe they'll find other twins," Ron said hopefully. "But... my own changes of finding love at the reunion are dead, hmn?"

"Unless you have some urge to boff Malfoy," Hermione agreed.

"Ew, I'll pass, thank you. My own branch and berries are enough for me, thank you muchly," he shivered, plucking her pen from her hand.

Unable to help herself, she snickered, finally settling into outright laughter. "Oh, Ron," she sighed. "We do love you awfully. You know that?"

"If we didn't, you wouldn't get past the front door," Harry added, stealing the pen from Ron to give it back to Hermione.

"I know that, you two doofs." He leaned both hands on the table, rocking a little. "You'd both better be as excited about this as I am."

"Can't wait," Harry agreed.

"Now, both of you sit down and go to work! We only have two days to finish getting everything ready!" Hermione demanded.

"Gee, Hermione, and here I distinctly remember you started two months ago..." Ron got elbowed by Harry, but only lightly.

After all, Ron was right.

       

"There, there," Draco whispered as he peered out of the Malfoy carriage at the sight of Hogwarts coming into sight. "There, there..." Damon hadn't been happy to be jostled from his nap, and was whining softly, but not crying yet. Even from where they were, he could see people lining up outside to go in, moving past the doors where folders or some-such were being handed out as they walked inside. "Interesting..."

Nervousness welled up in the pit of his belly -- not for the people he saw, so much as for the one he didn't see. He let out a breath and began shifting to lift the diaper bag onto his shoulder, absolutely smirking at the thought of what the lot of them might say to that. He could almost hear it now, sheer horror that Draco Malfoy might be someone's daddy. He was greatly amused by the mere thought.

Damon was clinging to him, making more unhappy little noises as the carriage bounced over every bump in the path at irregular intervals. That didn't help his nervousness, either -- after all, what if the person wasn't there at all? There were surely better things to do than attend an reunion in the beginning of the summer, after all... Like travel, or do research, or... or just not be there.

"Dobby thinks Damon wants pacifier," the house-elf sitting across from them both decided.

"Dig it out," Draco demanded, handing over the bag and pulling Damon up close, lightly patting his back even as they came to a stop. "You brought plenty of milk...?" He'd already asked that twice, but he fretted.

"Yes, yes, Dobby brought plenty, but Dobby keeps saying that there is milk here..." The little house-elf dug fingers into the side of the bag, and pulled out a bright green pacifier, which was promptly handed over to Draco.

"He won't like that milk. He wants milk from home," Draco said, slipping the rubber nipple into the baby's mouth. That calmed him perfectly in time for the carriage to stop and for Dobby to swing the door open to allow him to get out, grabbing the diaper bag as he stepped down from the thing. Dobby would get the rest of the luggage, he knew, and place it wherever it was appropriate.

Damon was, in fact, making tiny coos behind the bit of rubber in his mouth as he sucked, and seemed delighted by the appearance of the school - and all the people! For the four month old, everything was new because the only person he saw was his father, and that seemed to be all right until he learned there were more.

More, he decided, was good.

The sound of murmurs followed Draco all the way to the queue outside the door, where he quite calmly proceeded to walk past the lot of them. "Excuse me," he said not-quite-politely. "There aren't separate lines for each house? I need to get inside to change Damon," he declared, smirking. It wasn't true, but he wanted to scare them all half to death from the mere thought of him and a baby. "Isn't that right, sweet demon?"

The silver-capped head bobbled for a moment -- just might've done the same for any question -- and Damon reached tiny fingers to grab his father's chin as he kept sucking on his pacifier.

"What ho-- Oh, my god, Draco!" Blaise gaped quietly after that, his own packet of papers barely held in his hands. "Oh, I never thought you were going to show..."

"I responded to the invitation," Draco said, glancing over to where Hermione was handing out papers. "I see they've got that Gryffindor lot handing out all of the necessary information. That figures. So much for nappy changing, Damon," he told his son with a smile.

Bobbling for a moment more, Damon laid his head down on his father's shoulder, and snugged himself comfortably in.

"How old is he...?" Blaise reached fingers towards the baby, almost touching. "Is his mother around, or did she decided to not come...?"

"Four months," Draco said, and though he was leery of letting anyone touch his child... well. It was Blaise.. "And I'm afraid he doesn't have a mother. Just me," he said dryly.

"Just you?" Blaise's head snapped up, and the impressed look on his face was as clear as the sun was bright. "He does look... just like you."

Draco's expression as good as declared, 'I'm impressive'. "I'll be right back," he said instead. He shook his head and calmly broke in line just behind the person with whom Granger was currently speaking. "Give over, Gryffindor. I need inside," he drawled, enjoying himself. It had been forever since he'd gotten to be nasty to anyone, and it was rather enjoyable to do it now! After all, they weren't expecting anything else from him, if they were expecting him at all.

"Hold just one mo-- oh." He was sure, as the evening went on, he'd get to see more delightful expressions of shock and startlement. To see Hermione's face go blank was infinitely pleasing.

"Brains failing you after all these years? Shame, that," he drawled, one blond brow raised.

"Hello, Malfoy," Harry Potter greeted him with a stubborn frown, handing him a green folder over Hermione's shoulder, barely giving him a look.

Draco shuffled the diaper bag around, shifting Damon and took it. "How polite of you, Potter. Hello, yourself." Two sets of glimmering grey eyes looked at Harry, and he shivered just a little as he looked at the baby.

"You, uh... corresponded back that you were coming by yourself," Hermione pointed out, "So there isn't room for your wife, if she's coming along..." She was already discreetly scanning the crowd, trying to place who could marry that.

"I don't have one of those," Draco said primly, "and Damon will sleep with me, thank you."

"What'd you do, Malfoy, clone yourself?" Ron Weasley asked in surprise.

"Something like that. I'm sure you wouldn't understand the sort of procreation that requires only one parent," Draco said breezily.

"You sure it's not Pansy...?" Ron hedged, frowning at the little baby that was leaning against his father's shoulder, watching them all.

A delicate shudder worked through Draco's body. "Ew. And even if it was, I wouldn't admit it, Weasel. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Ron just managed a smile, though, and let Draco sidle past them, with his baby undisturbed by it all. "Have a nice stay, Malfoy..." And once he thought Draco was out of earshot, "God, that must be how the priggishness passes down through the lines."

"Thank you, Weasel," Draco called back. "At least you don't seem to have reproduced, though I doubt not that there will eventually be half a dozen little Weasels running about biting ankles. The lot of you proliferate quicker than your namesake!" He winked at Blaise, tilting his head to the side. "Come on. Let's go... if you're here alone, that is?" Even if the other man wasn't, that was all right, too.

"Maybe I shouldn't admit to it," Blaise drawled, crossing his arms over his chest as he fell into step with Draco when the man started to walk. "Pansy will be along in just a moment..."

Unable to help himself, Draco choked. "Merlin, Blaise! Tell me you didn't!"

"I did." Blaise sounded grim for a moment, but seemed to snape out of it. "We make a good couple, actually."

"Congratulations, then," Draco wished dryly. "I'm very glad it was you and not me, as I'm not at all inclined. Not just to Pansy," he said pointedly. "I'd have likely said the same regardless of who Weasley named."

"That way, huh?" Blaise didn't seem surprised at all. "We all guessed you were."

"Shame no one thought to mention it to me," Draco replied, and lightly bounced Damon in his arms, gaining giggles from the child. "So. D'you know who's returning, if all of the professors are here, or...?"

"Vector's not, and Binns finally disappeared. Someone in one of his classes -- a Slytherin -- told him rather coldly that he was dead. Seems it just finally sank in then, and poof, mid-class, he disappeared." Blaise seemed pleased by that fact, as they strode into the entry hall. "Damon, hmn? He seems happy. How's life been for you, Draco...?"

"Not bad, all told. Been awfully busy the last ten years..." He trailed off, shrugged. "You know. My parents sent me out of country for a while, and I've only just gotten back a little over a year ago. Right after You Know Who died."

"So that's how you didn't end up dragged down into it." Blaise seemed a little relieved. "A lot of our house is... well, with Lucius, in Azkaban."

Draco nodded ruefully. "Father didn't want me involved, I think. Best to get me out of the way, that being the case, and he managed it." They'd begun the trek down to the dungeons before either of them heard Pansy's voice behind them.

"Blaise, darling! Wait for me!"

"I've found Draco, Pansy -- come along and see his son!" Blaise shot Draco a grin. "I haven't gotten a chance to get down into the dungeons yet, but the Gryffindors were joking about the place having been redecorated."

"Oh, God, if the bloody creatures have gone down and painted everything red..."

"Oh, hello, Draco, and my, who is this sweet ickle thing? And where on earth is his -- it is 'his', isn't it? I can't imagine you having a daughter... --mommy?" Pansy said as she caught up with them.

"Draco -- wove, right? -- had the baby all by himself. Damon," Blaise said, pride in his fellow Slytherin for the accomplishment clear. But Pansy still swooped in to touch the baby's cheeks, getting a distraught cry that made him drop his pacifier.

"He doesn't like to be touched any more than I do," Draco reminded her a bit sharply, catching the green thing and promptly teasing it back between Damon's lips. "I'm afraid he hasn't seen very many people as yet in his short life..."

That distraught noise didn't stop, though, and turned into the first real squall Damon had ever given since his completion. The pacifier was a hopeless cause, and Blaise carefully nudged his concerned wife back from Draco.

"Oh, you need a woman's touch to soothe a baby, Draco -- here, let me try..."

"Pansy, if you touch him again, he's likely to scream," Draco announced, now alarmed as he backed away from the woman, which actually gained him more by way of silence, though Damon still wasn't very happy. "I told you, he doesn't like to be touched."

Pansy set her hands on her hips, though. "Draco, you may know a lot, but everyone knows that babies like to be touched! You're depriving the poor darling. I've already gotten two through that stage, I think I know what I'm talking about." And so, moving like a snake, she approached again.

By the time he took another step back, she was on him, and she touched his child and before he could even get his wand loose from the bag, she'd been pulled back, and Damon was screaming fit to burst his lungs.

Apparently she was very wrong, because tiny hands clutched at Draco's neck, and Damon just bawled and cried right in his father's ear, in a fit of purest panic. Somewhere farther down, a door slammed open, and footfalls could be heard marching towards them.

"Whoever is killing Mrs. Norris, could you please just be DONE with it, because I am attempting something that requires delicate concentration, and a screaming cat--" Severus Snape didn't get any farther than that, and trailed into giving the three ex-students a dark glare, once he'd swung open the dungeon door.

"I'm sorry, sir," Draco said, lightly patting Damon's back as he continued to cry. It wasn't helping. "Pansy just wouldn't leave him alone, and it's the first time he's ever left home..." He was babbling. He was babbling because Severus Snape was standing in front of him looking angry and completely gorgeous in that hook-nosed black-eyed way of his that made Draco's knees weak just as it had for years. /Oh. Damn./

"Pansy, just leave the child alone. It's Draco's baby," Blaise said with a scowl. "Really!"

Snape just looked at him. Draco could feel eyes scrape over him, and then over Damon, and then him again, before they shuttered off entirely. He didn't look different -- he'd hit that point of being a Wizard where aging slowed to a crawl, that part that allowed most wizards in good health to live to a hundred and fifty, or sometimes more. "Pansy, if your presence makes the child scream, perhaps you should let its mother fuss over it."

"It doesn't have one," Pansy said pointedly. "Draco did a weave so that he wouldn't have to procreate."

Color flooded his face as he looked helplessly at the potions master, Damon still shrieking in his ear, beginning to hiccough despite his soothing. "I'm sorry, sir..."

"Go on to your room, Pansy, Blaise," Snape instructed in that cold tone he'd always used. "If there's anything you can do to calm... him? Please, make the attempt."

/So, now that I feel as if I'm eleven again.../ "I'm afraid he's never done this before," Draco mumbled as Blaise and Pansy went on their way, a sheepish admission. "He's not very happy about that cow touching him. I can't imagine why he should be, I never liked it when she tried to touch me, either!"

The professor loomed nearer, as if his presence would somehow muffle the child's hiccoughed cries. "Most attendants with children have left them with caretakers -- surely...?" Hands that were knitted together as they'd so often been when Draco had been a student there, moved, one as if to touch Damon, though Severus didn't. It was futile to calm the child, it seemed in his eyes.

"I couldn't," Draco said miserably. "I wouldn't. I suppose I shouldn't have come..." But that almost-touch seemed to gather all of Damon's curiosity, and his wails became quiet, and his fingers reached out and touched those chemical-stained fingertips... "I think," the blond man whispered, "that he likes you."

Long fingers shifted a little, letting the baby grasp onto them with curiosity. "Or is soothed to know that Pansy has left."

"That is also a possibility," Draco admitted, smiling at him. "How have you been, Professor? It's been so long..." His heart was fairly hammering in his chest, and Damon was beginning to lean just a bit, playing with those hands delightedly, trying to gnaw on a knuckle.

Snape seemed willing to let him, so whatever he'd been working on -- if he'd actually been working at all, and not just set on edge by the noise -- must not have dirtied his hands. Draco couldn't see the potions master letting a baby possibly ingest something poisonous. "I've been teaching. There is little difference from one year to the next, aside from my own personal research. And you, Mr. Malfoy? You've been very low-key since your graduation... One hardly knew you were alive."

"Father and Mother sent me to the continent. I've been writing, mostly, keeping quiet. They didn't want me involved with... what was going on," Draco finished quietly, smiling at him. /This is good,/ he decided. /Very good./ "You know, so far, Damon really only likes you and me," he declared, looking up at the older man through blond lashes.

Damon was busy, in fact, holding onto Snape's hand, as if to hold it still, while he chewed at one knuckle, cooing to himself. His little face was still tear wet, and little hiccoughs resounded in his chest still, but his mood had swung dramatically towards good again.

Black eyes looked down under black lashes at the younger Wizard. "Perhaps he can sense a personality that pleases him. What sort of writing have you been indulging in?"

"This and that. Mostly articles on potions, a few fictional pieces," he admitted. "And mostly to keep myself from being bored out of my mind. There was a lab in the cottage that Father set up, so..."

"If you're here to seek a teaching position, I regret to say that I've plans of staying on indefinitely," the potions master told him. "But it's heartening to see you take up the art that you were so talented in when you were a student. Perhaps I've read some of your articles...? What was your nom de plume?"

"Oh, I'm not here for that reason," Draco told him with an almost secretive smile. "And it was Diane Madrigal." At that name, Damon fairly giggled, soft cheek rubbing against Snape's other knuckles as he looked up at the man with silvery eyes altogether too like his father's.

Well, there was little else to expect from a weave child, other than those startling similarities. The professor moved his hand a little, so that stained fingerpads stroked lightly over the smooth, silken cheek. "It doesn't quite set off any whistles in my mind, though I'm sure I may have read them. DM --- well chosen."

"I like to think so, anyway. I doubt they were even close to the sorts of things that would gain your attention," Draco said almost demurely, eyes roaming over that face, cataloguing the changes that had occurred in the last ten years. A few more lines around the eyes, expression just a bit more tired... Still an utterly magnificent man.

Particularly when the edges of his mouth curled in a slight smile, and the expression reached stormy eyes for a fraction of a second. "If your topic of choice was something wasteful such as love potions, Mr. Malfoy, I'll have to agree that it wouldn't have gained my attention."

"Oh, no..." Draco answered, sounding almost breathless. "You never seemed to approve of those. Besides, if I'd ever known how to make one, I'd have likely tried to use it or something, wouldn't I? You know I've never been able to resist trouble."

"Well, it couldn't have been something too dangerous, either, because I've heard no reports at least recently of potions related explosions..." He stroked the wild feathery strands of silver atop Damon's head, for a moment, before he drew his hand back. "Would you like to join me for tea, Mr. Malfoy? You've a house-elf already banging about within your room."

"That sounds just wonderful," the younger man agreed, smiling at him. It sounded beyond wonderful. It sounded like the answer to dreams. "So long as you don't mind the sound of a bit of sucking... It's almost time for Damon's nap."

"I've a record playing -- something so slight will blend away." It was dismissive of the idea that he'd be bothered by it at all, just as much as the way he turned away to lead the day down the stairs. "What made you decide to create a weave-child?"

"Father always used to say that a man should be sure of his line before he becomes as old as thirty. I was getting perilously close to that age," he admitted as he followed behind Snape, "and I really... Well..." He sighed. "I really am not fond enough of women to want to do... THAT... with one. It's moderately distasteful."

"You're aware, of course, that you're going to have to be explaining that for the rest of the weekend." The potions master sounded oddly bemused, as he pulled open a side door of the hallway that simply hadn't been there before, and slipped in. "Yes, you've managed to create a rather beautiful-seeming, and personalitied baby without a woman."

Draco smiled, nearly giddy from the compliment. "I rather think if there had been a woman involved, he wouldn't be half so marvelous. I also think that I just won't explain it..." He wrinkled his nose. "Can you imagine what Weasley and Potter would say about it? 'Poor Malfoy,'" he mocked in a squeaky voice. "'Can't even get a woman in bed with him!' And why would I want to is the question," he finished off with a firm nod. "If Mother could hear me say that, she'd likely cry."

"You somehow managed to turn out decently, despite having had a mother." Snape sounded dry, as he led Draco down the little hallway, and pushed open a door that led into his office. "Sit down, please, Mr. Malfoy."

Carefully, Draco settled into a chair with which he was most familiar, having spent no few number of afternoons in discussion with his favorite Professor. He rummaged about in his bag, pulled out a bottle and his wand and performed a warming charm with the ease of someone accustomed to needing four hands and having only two. "Yes, well. Mother was quite different than, say, Pansy, I should think."

It helped some that Damon clung to him while he went about warming the bottle. Little hands reached for it greedily when Draco put the nipple into his maw like mouth, hungry and wanting it. "Quite different. Your mother had an air of common sense about her that Pansy... desperately lacks, for want of better words." There was a tea-tray in one corner, and Severus moved to it gracefully to pour two cups.

Draco laughed softly, delighted in many ways by both of them -- the Professor and Damon, who was always a greedy little thing. "Yes, that's right, sweet demon. Grandmama was a much more pleasant sort of woman than that nasty Parkinson wench. I'll bet even that silly fluff-headed Granger would be more agreeable for you, though I shouldn't think I'd try it, one way and another..."

"Still two cubes of sugar?" Snape turned a little, to look over his shoulder at Draco, half-watching little Damon drink greedily from his bottle. Any sucking noises were impossible to hear above the soft, blanketing noises of some ancient wizard composer's aires.

"You remember." That was said most warmly, and Draco smiled at him, that terribly irresistible smile that wasn't smarmy or even particularly sharp, but amused and pleased.

"I can't remember having another student in to have tea as often as you." Dismissive again, but it still didn't change the fact that he had remembered, and done so without any effort at all. Two cubes were dropped in, a spoon added so Draco could stir it in, though on second thought, and after seeing how busy Draco's hands were, he stirred it for the younger Wizard. "I'll have to go through my journals now, you know, so I can see just what sort of knowledge you left this school with."

"Hopefully, you'll be proud of me. At least a little," Draco replied, watching him solemnly even as Damon dozed off, nipple still in his mouth as he sucked lazily.

"I don't doubt I will. After all, complete dreck seldom reaches the printing presses, so surely someone thought it was worth a read..." The drawled, smooth words weren't hurtful, but Severus's version of teasing, as he set Draco's saucer and cup on the small stand beside that chair. Then Snape moved to sit in his own chair. "I'm relieved to know that you kept yourself free of the mess your father was involved in."

"I am, as well. I think..." He paused, bit at his lower lip. "I think perhaps there was more than a simple suggestion that I should join. Vince and Greg did, after all..." They were in Azkaban now, which gave him no joy. They hadn't been so bad, really, only they'd made the wrong choices upon encouragement from their fathers. A boy, Draco thought, ought to be able to trust his father to look out for his best interests.

His own father had, after all, despite what he was doing. Because he'd loved his only son, he'd protected him as best as he could... "You were always... a greatly heated topic, when you were brought up. Your father covered for himself so well, that it was never clear if you were dead, alive, joined or not."

"I'm glad to know that he at least..." Draco sighed. "I don't know. I don't know. It was his choice to make, though, and making any other or changing it..." Changing it as Severus had... "Well."

"You've already left a good mark on the world, if a quiet one, in so few years." The potions master took a quiet sip of the tea, watching Damon snuggle up to his father. It wasn't very chill in there -- just comfortable, probably the most comfortable place in the entire school in the summer.

"Hmmm." It was agreement as he reached out to take his own cup, carefully watching the older man. "So. I'm sure you've been busy with more than just teaching..." His voice trailed off quietly.

"Research -- the Trials, for a time, but mostly research. I've all but perfected the wolfsbane potion, at last." Years and years of work, but it was no small matter to refine a reliable potion that would counter to lycanthropy time and time again.

"Brilliant. I'm sure Remus Lupin is grateful... among others." And oh, how jealous he'd been of Remus Lupin! Deathly so, and for so many reasons, but at the end of third year, Snape had been furious with him and had told everyone that he was a werewolf; that had pleased Draco at least a bit.

"Among others. The stipend the ministry is giving me for 'research in the service of Wizardkind' is... quiet substantial." A glint of Slytherin ambition in the man who was drinking tea across from Draco -- Severus was obviously laying on the school's resources for a time until he had enough of a decent reputation rebuilt to set out on his own and take at least potions creation by surprise.

It was absolutely breathtaking for Draco. "Congratulations, sir. That sounds just wonderful," Draco replied, his own gaze sparkling with the same aspiration and sheer determination. "Of course, I always knew that you were brilliant." And hot. He couldn't leave that part out, could he?

Still, it was hard to broach that point verbally. Severus would probably wonder if he'd had a few drinks before coming to the school, or worse, had a good, long 'smoke'. "Knew, or just preferred to be a bit of a kissass, Mr. Malfoy...?" No anger at all, only a bland drawl and another spark in those dark dark eyes.

For a moment, Draco was almost angry at that, but Damon was in his arms, and that more or less countered his fury. He shrugged, smiling. "Does it matter which? Either way, it amounts to admiration of you, doesn't it?"

"Admiration doesn't serve much of a purpose." Snape set his tea-cup aside after a moment more of idle sips. His eyes were all but boring into Draco, digging for... something in the younger Wizard's form, in silvered eyes. "Why don't you take a look over your packet there, Mr. Malfoy -- it would be best for you to be aware of what Mrs. Potter has plotted out for this weekend."

"Oh, he married the little...?" Well, it wasn't nice to say Mudblood, much as he wanted to do so. He grinned, instead. "Bet they've got a passel of brats, too. I'm only surprised that Weasley doesn't have lots of little redheads running about his ankles."

"Not married. It's a blessing, because the Wizarding world doesn't need to be overrun by Weasleys." In fact, the family seemed to have a strange default system -- through the generations, only one or two of each gaggle of Weasleys ever reproduced. The others, not unexpectedly, simply turned out gay.

"Well, there's no worry about it being overrun by Snapes and Malfoys, I do suspect," Draco said dryly. "Malfoys tend to be single-heir generations, as they either have one male, or a male and a gaggle of females. And..." He smiled almost shyly at the professor across from him. "You're the last of the Snapes, aren't you?" He knew that Severus was, actually; the man once had a sister, but she'd died in some bizarre accident involving a broomstick, a troglodyte and a handful of Cockroach Clusters, or so it was said.

Obviously, it wasn't spoken of very often, even in the most gossipy of circles -- after all, if a Snape could die so gruesome a death... "Much to the regret of no one at all," was the Potions master's dry reply. "I'd say it's a shame, but it really isn't one."

"I disagree," Draco told him firmly. "Though..." Well, he shouldn't say that. No, in fact, it would be downright rude to tell the man that the thought of him with any woman anywhere made him just as nauseous as, say, the thought of Severus Snape boffing Harry Potter... or worse, Ron Weasley. "Well, at any rate, point being, it is a shame."

"I fail to see how. After all, I'm not denying the world anything by deciding to not marry and 'settle down'." Snape looked at Damon for a moment, "Though, you've managed well without having to suffer that fate."

"Precisely," Draco agreed. "Just think. If we didn't manage, there'd just be more room in the world for Potters and Weasleys, and then there would we be? Full of insufferable rule-breaking gits. With lots of red and bushy heads of hair," he declared.

"I hope that when your son is school-aged that he gives hell to whatever Potters or Weasleys he comes across," Snape drawled. "He'll have to make up for the fact that there's one less family line to prove a threat to those sorts."

"So you don't have any intentions of ever...? Oh, pardon," Draco said, grey eyes widening slightly. "I don't mean to pry, Professor..." All right, so he did mean to pry, and he meant to pry lots...

He just didn't mean to be caught at it.

"If I'd ever made the decision to, I should be a grandfather right now," he said, with a slight inclination of his head towards Damon. "Considering that I attended school with your father."

Draco grinned at him. "You were three years under him, though, weren't you? So, technically, you'd have at least another two or three before you reached that point, surely? And you definitely don't look that old," he added slyly, peering up at him from under those pale lashes.

Quiet for a moment from the older Wizard, though eyes continued to bore into him. "That would still involve a woman, for someone unwilling to attempt a weave. You've more faith in your genes than I've in mine, for good reason."

"Not if you could get someone else to help you work the weave," Draco pointed out, flushing. It was as good as an offer, and he wasn't sure how that would be taken at all!

Severus very obviously chose to ignore Draco's implied words. "And whoever would offer that to me? A child takes a great deal of time, as I'm sure you're aware, and I would be a man most unable to spare that time."

"Ahhh." He sounded almost disappointed; he couldn't help himself. "Well, if you change your mind, Professor, be sure to let me know..."

"Why are you here, Draco?"

That question made him startle slightly, and Damon hiccoughed in protest. "What do you mean?" he asked, raising one slim blond brow. "Can't I just come like everyone else?"

"Well, for a decade you've been conspicuously absent from wizarding life in England. Yet after not hearing from you during all that time, you very seriously make an offer that has grave implications." The potions master folded his arms slightly, fingers of one hand stealing up to press against the edge of his mouth in thought. "It makes me wonder."

"Makes you wonder what?" Draco responded, shifting Damon quietly as he sipped from his teacup. "Precisely?"

"Why pick up again as if ten years never passed, Mr. Malfoy...? I could imagine the boy that I taught making such a rash offer." And being rebuked for being foolish, and for not thinking it through properly. 'Five points from Slytherin for poking your nose in business that shouldn't concern you'. "But for you to suggest such a thing to a ex-professor that you haven't spoken to in a decade, well..."

Quietly, Draco stood, nestling Damon closer to his shoulder. His smile wasn't quite a smirk -- no, it was simply the quiet sort of look that had sometimes passed from him to Severus Snape on quiet afternoons such as this, long passed from memory. "You don't honestly think I'd come just for some sort of ridiculous reunion, do you?" he asked, lifting his bag and tilting his head to look at the man.

"The thought that you'd want to spend time rubbing elbows with old adversaries never even crossed my mind." Snape stayed still in his chair, looking at Draco when he stood. The young Malfoy heir had gained height in his seventh year, though not enough to set off his delicate features as anything but beautiful. "Yet that still doesn't tell me why you're here."

"Doesn't it?" Draco asked him, nodding to the tea tray, to Snape himself. "All things considered, I rather think that you should be able to guess..."

"There are four or five reasons that I can guess right now, Mr. Malfoy," Snape murmured, still trying to hold Draco's gaze with his own. "Yet, if I were to jump to the wrong conclusion..."

"Then perhaps we should talk about it again Sunday evening," Draco suggested. "Just so that you can be quite sure you aren't... jumping to the wrong conclusion, that is."

"Or, you could simply tell me what conclusion I'm supposed to reach." Severus stood now. He was only a little taller than Draco, but it was enough for him to have to look down to his former student when he stood. Damon made a quiet coo, snugging closer to father's neck.

"Where would the mystery be in that?" Draco asked, moving closer to the other man. The space between them would have been nonexistent if Damon hadn't resided in Draco's arms.

"I suppose, if the mystery will amuse you for the next day or so, that I can oblige." Severus's breath was sweet from the residuals of the tea, warm, and so close to Draco... The temptation was so absolutely mind-bogglingly impossible to resist that if Damon hadn't lifted his head right then, Draco would have leaned forward and kissed him absolutely stupid.

"Oh, I think so," Draco told him, mouth trembling just a bit with the repressed desire.

"Perhaps you'll head to your room now...? If Damon needs to be tended to before the social meet and greet that Mrs. Potter has planned..." Severus stayed close, as if he knew what he was doing, and moved fingers to pet the top of Damon's head gently -- accidentally touching Draco's cheek in the process.

The baby cooed even as Draco's breath caught slightly. "Charming," he managed to get out. "More time spent with Pansy. I hope Blaise can keep her off of me." And, most particularly, off of his baby.

"Faculty is required to attend, if they're still in the building," Severus went on, fingers making that idle motion once more, exactly the same as before. "Hopefully no one other than Pansy will make your child scream so."

/No,/ Draco thought, /but maybe I can do a bit of my own screaming./ "Sounds marvelous," he agreed, not wanting to step back, but forcing himself to do so. "That means I'll be seeing you later tonight, then."

"I suppose so." The Potions master moved at last, to open the door for Draco. Damon moved fingers towards him nonetheless, tiny hand waving in the air as he looked over his father's shoulder.

"One thing is sure, though," Draco called back as he continued along the way. "Damon likes you quite a lot." /Even if it's not as much as I do./

"I'd already guessed at that," he drawled, hanging out of the doorway for a moment, watching Draco. Then he turned away, and the light spilling out of his office faded away entirely.

That had gone better than Draco had expected.

"Let's go have a nap, sweet demon," he whispered to the little boy in his arms. "Because Daddy's absolutely giddy, and I rather doubt he'll even be able to stand up much longer if he keeps on being this happy." So, Draco laughing and Damon giggling, they headed for the Slytherin common room.

       

"You say you saw Malfoy...?" The mere suggestion that the boy who'd embodied everything a Slytherin was expected to be was not only in attendance, but that he hadn't changed a bit, sent a shiver of fear down Neville's spine. "Oh, please let him keep busy with the other Slytherins, I don't want to be turned into something..."

"He's got a baby with him. Called him demon," Ron said with a firm nod. "Probably is one, as it doesn't have a mother."

"Damon," Hermione corrected, "and it's a Weave baby."

"I've never heard of a weave baby before now, Hermione," Harry sighed as he leaned an elbow on the old commons room table. Everything was still the same, as if the school had been in some sort of time stasis since they'd been there.

"They're special, require lots of time and patience to create. You make a child out of your own seed with magic, and for nine months, you weave a womb around it to cradle it and hold it safe and make it strong. Sort of like... surrogate motherhood," she suggested. "Or at least, it's parenthood of a singular sort. You make all contributions to it."

"Guess he just didn't want to get hitched," Ron shrugged. "I still think that as long as it's a Malfoy, it's a Demon, not a Damon."

"I... I heard something," Neville suggested softly, tentatively. After all, no one would repeat what he said to Malfoy, not a Gryffindor. "I heard Pansy groped him a lot when we were in school and he doesn't like girls and I'll bet that's why he did it..."

"... wouldn't surprise me," Harry murmured after a moment. "Not considering who it is."

"Weave babies are very difficult to create," Hermione chided. "And I heard he's been in seclusion for the last ten years."

"Wanking, probably," Ron snickered. "So. Malfoy is a mommy..."

"Well, since he's male, wouldn't that make him a father...?" Neville suggested tentatively.

"With Weave babies, you're really both," Hermione answered, frowning at Ron. "No cracks about Mommies."

"Oh, but Hermione, it's so easy..." Ron wheedled. "We don't like him, anyway -- I don't even know why he showed up, since most of his friends from school are in Azkaban."

"Probably trying to get into your pants, Ron," Harry told him cheerfully. "I mean, put it all together, doesn't like girls, has a thing for you, teased you in school like a little boy does a little girl he likes, pre-made family..." he teased.

"Harry, you're being gross," Ron declared, frowning a little -- at least until he heard the commons room door open.

"We're not too late, are we?" Seamus called.

"Only if you're interested in gossip," Hermione told him, standing up with a laugh. "Hullo, Seamus. Did you have a nice trip?"

"Except for the seagull I caught on my broom when I was skirting the coast, not a problem at all," the other wizard smiled. "What gossip have I missed? Dean's just coming up the stairs. Ran into Peeves, poor bugger."

"Frigging goddamned motherfucking..."

"I see Dean's learned a few new words," Harry said lightly, raising an eyebrow.

"And what red paint can do to new robes," Seamus went on cheerfully. "So, everyone made it...?"

"Most of the Gryffindors, three fourths of the Hufflepuffs, most of the Ravenclaws are apparently immersed in research but spouses," Hermione grinned at Neville, "have dragged them along, and a bare handful of the Slytherins."

"Just how bare a handful...?" Seamus asked, tossing down his rucksack lightly, before aiming his wand at paint-soaked Dean. "Hold still for a sec, buddy, and let me get that."

"WHY hasn't anyone killed that frigging poultergeist yet?" Dean groaned.

"Because he's dead already?" Ron suggested.

"Because the Bloody Baron hasn't said it was all right yet?"

"And what the hell gives the Slytherin ghost the right to keep the damned thing around!?!?!?!"

"Probably because it amuses him," Harry murmured with a slight smirk as Seamus cast a spell to clean Dean's robes. "Sit and calm down -- Hermione, I'm glad we didn't bring the children..."

"James would have learned a grand lot of new words," she sighed in agreement.

"You have children?" Dean asked, grinning. "As in, plural? Wow. I'd only heard about the one..."

"There's Cedric, he's three, and Molly, who's one and a half," Harry all but beamed at Dean. "I've promised Hermione Molly would be our last..."

"And James has reached the grand old age of five. I don't think I care for more than three. I can barely keep up with two at once," Hermione said dryly. "Thank God for Grandpapa Sirius."

"And Grandy Remus," Harry reminded her, as if she needed to be reminded. "So, it's four adults to three children -- we've almost got them outnumbered."

"Wow -- and you, Ron? Being a Weasley, why, I bet you've got those two over populated already..."

"I'm...er...not married yet," Ron admitted a little sheepishly.

"Going the way of Fred and George, are you?" Seamus asked with a grin.

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

Dean quirked an eyebrow at Ron. "What, you don't know your brothers are--" He stopped when harry gave him a look, and just went, "Oh, never mind."

"It's a bit late for THAT, don't you think!?" Ron demanded, groaning.

"So. How's that Quidditch, Harry?" Seamus asked self-consciously.

"Well, won the cup last year," Harry said a bit nervously.

"Hold on, now, I want to know what you all are saying about my brothers," the Weasley there demanded again.

"Well, I mean... YOU know, Ron," Seamus blurted out. "That they're..." He let his wrist flop. "Poufs..."

"WHAT?!!"

"Well, you KNOW they were sharing Justin Finch-Fletchley last year they were here..." Dean said with a shrug. "I mean, really, they were!"

"Oh, sweet Merlin." Ron fell back into a chair, wide-eyed. His brothers were... and everyone but him seemed to know it! His brothers were that way, and they weren't married -- neither was he. Maybe he was just so blind to it that he didn't know... "Oh, oh, sweet Merlin."

"Smelling salts?" Hermione offered sympathetically.

"Really, Seamus..." Harry sighed.

"I thought he knew," Seamus sighed, moving to pat Ron on his shoulder. "Sorry, chap."

"That explains all of the time they spent in the bathroom," Ron answered dazedly.

Dean watched Ron for a second, before simply shaking his head. "Harry, 'ermione, what've you got on the table for us this evening...?"

"Dinner, little gatherings like this one, and settling in. The real fun starts tomorrow morning..." Hermione said with a grin, still sneaking worried looks at Ron.

"Muggle games. Water balloon fights first thing," Harry said with a laugh.

"Water balloon fights?" Seamus looked at Dean and grinned wickedly for just a moment. "Wanna bet the Slytherins enlist Peeves?"

"Malfoy probably won't join in," Ron said after a moment more of his shocked silence. "Doesn't look like he'd let go of his baby demon for anything."

"Baby demon?" Dean asked, startled for a moment. "Someone's let one of those things into Hogwarts!?"

"Malfoy's woven a baby instead of adopting, or just getting hitched," Harry explained. "Named it 'Damon'... given that it's a Malfoy, it probably is a demon."

"Ohhhh. Well, he's a pouf, too, we always knew that," Seamus said with a grin. "I'm as likely to get hitched as he is, though, so I probably hadn't ought to talk, hm?"

"At least you wouldn't have demon children," Ron reminded, getting up from the chair with a sigh. "So, what've you been up to, Neville? You pulled a disappearing act, too."

Shyly, Neville twisted his hands together. "Vera and I have been doing potions research, actually..."

"POTIONS research!?" the lot of them said together, no small amount shocked.

"Well," he continued, "yes, actually. As it turns out, I'm not half bad at it. Really!" he insisted. "Truly!"

Harry stared at Neville for a moment, before saying, "Explosive ones...?"

"Medical ones," he said shyly. "Some that are even good for psychological purposes."

Harry knew what that meant and couldn't help but smile slightly at the other Wizard. "That's damn good to hear. You should go tell Snape that, in fact -- he'd probably be proud that you managed to do what you do despite him scaring us all shitless for years."

"I'm still scared shitless when it comes to him!" Neville blurted out, wringing his hands.

"I saw him smiling just about fifteen minutes ago," Dean declared. "Terrifying, that."

"Smiling?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow at Dean. "Really?"

"Uh-huh," Dean agreed. "Well, it was a smile for him anyway."

"Oh, god, should we check the commons room for a trap or something...?" Harry glanced around, still grinning to himself slightly. "Whatever would Snape be smiling over?"

"Dunno, but whatever it is, I'd say he passed for giddy, considering all the faces I've seen on him before," Dean said, and Seamus agreed.

"How fucking strange," Harry mused, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Hnn. Think he just handed in his resignation papers, or...?"

"Language," Hermione prompted him primly. "You have to go back to a house full of children, Harry. And I suspect that he's probably finally gotten recognition for the Wolfsbane Potion he's been working on -- Remus said as much when we saw him last evening."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't think it'd make Snape giddy..."

"Maybe he's glad Malfoy reproduced?" Ron said it, and immediately wanted to take the words back. "Never mind. I think... Dean, do you have any smelling salts on you?"

"Grim thought, that," Neville agreed.

"Indeed," Seamus said with enthusiasm. "Can't imagine anyone boffing him no matter how sexy he is, so it's no surprise he's been weaving."

Dean's nose wrinkled. "I didn't really need to hear all of that, Seamus..."

"What, someone boffing Malfoy? Oh, come on. He'd got a bloody sexy body, but... he's Draco."

"Oh, I thought you were talking about Snape. 'Evermind," Dean rescinded.

It didn't help Ron's lightheadedness at all. "Fred and George... are queer. Malfoy's a Mommy. Snape is SMILING. It's a sign of the coming Apocalypse, I tell you."

"You need four, actually -- I'm good in potions," Neville smiled.

"There you have it," Ron said. "Famine, War, Pestilence and.. What's that last one again?"

"Death," Harry intoned in a deep voice, chuckling. "So. Which one's which?"

"Snape smiling has to be death. Your brothers... eh, pestilence. Malfoy, well, he's war. So, Neville, you get to be Famine," Seamus smirked a little.

"That explains the weight loss," Neville decided, patting his flat belly. "Shall we go to dinner, on that note?"

"Hopefully Death and War won't be there," Harry grinned, getting firmly elbowed by Hermione. He might not be able to use language around the children, but she was teaching them perfectly well that daddy made a perfect doormat.

"Or if we're lucky they'll set up shop somewhere and leave Famine and Pestilence out of it," Ron agreed.

"Well, your brothers aren't anywhere in the building, so..."

"...it's not the end of the world just yet," Dean said with a grin.

"Thanks ever so much," Ron sniped, shaking his head. Fred and George. GAY! /No one ever tells me anything!/ "Let's go eat."

"That sounds like a good idea to me," Harry said, and they headed for the Great Hall.

       

Draco hadn't been aware that babies could even try to glare.

He was starting to become well aware of it now, as he sat in a chair in the Slytherin Commons, rocking his baby a little. A change of both diaper and clothes had left his darling sweet-smelling again, though Damon seemed displeased by the other Slytherins filtering into the room.

Damon had particularly disliked Millicent, who'd apparently married a Hufflepuff some three years younger than her. /Probably the only person she could get to marry her,/ he thought, disgruntled. They kept trying to touch both of them, she and Pansy, and even Blaise's notoriously long temper was shortening rapidly.

"I've just never seen such an ill-tempered baby before," Pansy sighed, finally giving up -- for the moment, at least -- and sitting down beside her husband again. "However did you finally get him to stop crying?"

"He adores Professor Snape," Draco said shortly. "And he apparently detests women, as he keeps glaring at Millicent."

"Well, I never!"

Yes, indeed, she likely had never, he thought darkly, scowling at her.

"Must take after his father a great deal," Blaise smiled, patting his wife's hand to soothe her a little. "Does he have godparents...?"

"No, actually," Draco admitted. "I'm afraid that... Well, with things being as they are..." No one wanted to admit to being friends with a Malfoy these days. That was all right with him.

"Well, the poor child should have someone," Millicent brayed loudly. "What if something happened to you, Draco? Hm?"

"That eventuality is covered," Draco replied coldly.

In response to Millicent's braying, Damon wrinkled his little nose, and tried to hide away against his father's chest.

"Who...?" Pansy pressed.

The arch of one of those blond brows was quite enough to still the already quiet conversation. The four of them were the only Slytherins in their year who had not died or been sent to Azkaban; it was disturbingly quiet. On the other hand, they each had one of the wide dorms to themselves, which suited Draco just fine. It meant neither of those brash creatures could touch his baby. /Mine,/ he thought smugly to himself.

"Pansy, love, it's none of our business, really," Blaise sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, but... he's such a darling thing, and I'd hate to know that he'd be cared for by something like a house-elf if you died, Draco," Pansy fretted softly.

"That eventuality is covered," he repeated, trying not to yell at her. He'd give his son to Potter before he'd give him to Pansy Parkinson-Zabini, and that was saying quite a lot!

Blaise let out a thready little sigh, and gave his wife's hand a squeeze -- as if it would silence her. Not enough luck for for him to have it work for long... "What've you been up to, Draco?"

"Writing, actually," he told the other man, nudging Damon's pacifier towards those tiny lips. He took it, but he didn't like to -- he was still busy glaring. "Potions work, somewhat, a few other things..." Fictional stories about redemption and choice, mostly.

He hadn't told Professor Snape about that, of course -- only mentioned in passing that he'd written a little fiction. Then again, Snape had all but leapt on the idea of Draco writing on potions, and hadn't even seemed to notice the mention of fiction.

Millicent smiled, though, when he said it. "What sort of other things...?"

"Oh, boring dry sorts of things, not interesting like potions," he declared, and Damon cooed at him, clutching at the collar of his shirt.

Tiny, slightly pudgy fingers clutched at the material, tugged it to one side as his baby made another soft noise. The other little hand reached for a lock of hair at the side of his head, and promptly clutched at the silver strands.

"I would've claimed it the other way around," Pansy grinned a little. "Your baby really is a beautiful thing, Draco -- only, he's got such an ill temper with everyone but you."

"And Professor Snape," Blaise added with a grin, "as proven by the fact that the man managed to stop the wailing. Who'd have thought it? Maybe Malfoys are just an odd lot," he winked.

"Are you sure he just didn't cast a silencing spell?" Pansy frowned, "Because your little boy stopped crying so quickly... I'm sure that my children would've been scared by the professor if they saw him."

"Quite sure," Draco drawled. "Damon liked the taste of his fingers, didn't you, my sweet?" He brushed a kiss over the baby's temple, an action that gained him little sighs from both women. /What is it about women and babies?/ he thought grumpily. "Well, little demon, shall we go to eat? It's surely almost that time..."

"You let him chew on the professor's hands?" Blaise looked green as he stood up, and pulled Pansy up with him. "Not to say anything mean about the professor, but with the things he works on..."

"He wouldn't have let him chew on anything if he'd been working on something dangerous," Draco drawled. "I'd trust the professor a lot farther than anyone else when it came to that. Can you imagine me allowing him to gnaw on the fingers of Neville Longbottom? I thought not," he said with a nod.

The pleasantly jostling movement of standing gained him a soft burble in his ear, and Damon leaned against him, tiny fingers tangled in Draco's hair still.

"I suppose not," Blaise nodded. "Well, let's go eat dinner. We might as well represent what's left of our house with a bit of pride, hmn?"

"Shame there aren't more of us," Millicent murmured almost morosely.

"We'll have to make do," Draco said proudly, shifting to grasp Damon's bag and take it with him.

"We've always made do," Pansy agreed, as Blaise all but dragged her towards the door and away from Draco's baby. His ears, quite frankly, couldn't take the wailing.

"Let's show them what it is to be Slytherin," Millicent agreed, and the lot of them marched off to the Great Hall.

       

Ron looked as antsy as he felt when he entered the Great Hall, just ahead of his group of friends. It was much the same as ever, only there were less tables out. Hermione's idea, of course, so that less of the household rivalry feeling could set up between them all. She was being too idealistic, in his opinion, though he wasn't going to say anything just then. The teachers were already there, talking among themselves or not, a good number of the Hufflepuffs, and all four Slytherins. Well, five if one counted the newest Malfoy, who Ron just knew would sort into that house eventually.

Not that he was staring at the baby. He was staring at the shirt Draco was wearing.

"I-I-I-I..." he spluttered.

"We haven't even eaten anything yet, Ron," Harry said. "You can't be choking...?"

"I-I-I... Oh, my GOD," he managed to scrape out, unable to tear his eyes away from IT.

IT.

That SHIRT.

It was black, and scrawled across the front of it in glittering green and silver that practically danced were the words, 'Snakes Swallow It Whole'.

Ron felt a nosebleed coming on as his blood pressure rose. "Fuck."

"Ron, what's wrong...?" Harry jostled his friend a little, but to no avail, until he looked up, too, and saw IT.

Oh.

"Damn," Seamus whispered. "The question now is, do we get to try it and find out?"

"Seamus!" Hermione gasped, jaw dropped slightly as she caught sight of it. "That... That's just indecent!"

"None of them seem bothered by it," Neville pointed out softly, gesturing to the rest of the Slytherins.

"Well, they're all perverts, aren't they!?" Hermione managed to get out, nearly traumatized. Hermione, it seemed, had been a parent so long that she had forgotten any other role or duty in life, and Harry simply rolled his eyes and gently led her towards a table.

She'd forgotten, it seemed, just how those children had come into being.

"Yeah, probably," Ron agreed past dry lips, jerking his head to look anywhere but the Slytherin table. But seeing Snape sitting at the teachers table, still smiling ever so slightly, was enough to send him into a fit again. "My nerves just can't take these kinds of surprises," he declared, reaching up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

"Well, Ron, I hope you won't get any more then," Neville said with a little smile. "We'd miss you if you were gone."

"Why don't we all just sit down...?" Seamus pressured, guiding Ron and Neville to sit down, too, across the table from Harry, Hermione and Dean.

/Right. Like anybody could sit comfortably after seeing THAT!/ Ron thought, letting Seamus push him into sitting. "Gyah..."

It seemed very obvious that his friends had been right in their passing comment. There Draco was, beautiful, fucking sexy, with a 'family' that was just waiting for that one more person to make it perfect. He had to have worn that shirt to catch Ron's eye!

"Wow," he said a little breathlessly, grinning in the direction of the Slytherins' table.

"What're you 'wow'ing, Ron?" Harry asked in a worried tone, leaning across the table to look at his friend.

"Hmm? OH. Oh!" Ron said, shaking his head. "What?"

"He's done in," Seamus said sadly. "Lost to the Dark Side, and all it took was a t-shirt..."

"It's so indecent!" Hermione fretted, glancing over at it again. "What will it do to that poor baby's mind...?"

"Herm, I'm more worried about what it's done to Ron's mind -- are you with us, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Huh?" Ron said vaguely, swallowing hard.

Dean nodded. "Yep. The Slytherin Sex God has Struck Again."

Before one more remark could sweep in at Ron, though, he was saved -- well, almost -- by Professor Dumbledore's voice filling up the cozy-feeling hall.

"What a pleasure it is to have all of you here with us! And what a pleasure it must be for all of you to see each other again -- eat, drink, talk, and please, get up and move about to see how your classmates have changed! That will be all! Nitwit!"

Nothing, it seemed, had changed in regards to Professor Dumbledore.

Plates filled, laughs sounded, and everyone was very shortly mingling together, walking with plates in hand, except for the Slytherins. They remained right where they were, haughtily holding court, with the exception of Draco. He simply glared at every woman who looked as if they'd like to touch Damon and waited.

Waited, Ron guessed, for him. Merlin, it was going to take an act of Divine Force to get him moving towards the glaring Slytherin, who only occasionally gave an off-handed comment to his companions.

"Gonna take a try?" Seamus whispered. "He's a prat, but I'll bet he's magnificent in bed!"

"Oh, Merlin, be quiet," Ron sighed, starting to his feet, half-eaten plate held in hand as he stood. "Just wish me luck."

"You're gonna need it," Seamus told him firmly, shaking his head. Ron had obviously lost his mind...

Well, it at least promised to make the reunion interesting.

Damon made a worrisome, questioning noise when he spotted the head of red hair walking towards Draco, and hid his face away for a moment as if to make it go away. "Hey, Draco..."

"Hello, Weasley," he drawled, raising an eyebrow. "On a first name basis now, are we? It's all right, sweet demon," he whispered atop Damon's head, tucking him close. "It's just a Weasley. There are tons of them."

"Not tons of us," Ron said with a flush dancing over his cheeks. "Just... well, I was just wondering how've you been. You seem a little different from how you were when we were just kids."

/Interesting.../ Well, it was. He'd never had this particular Weasley be friendly towards him, though Fred and George had been on occasion. "Well, ten years of seclusion will do that to you," Draco said, wondering what the point was.

"Why'd you seclude yourself for ten years...?" Draco didn't look like he'd secluded himself for ten years... no, not at all. If he'd been secluded somewhere, it was a place where he'd gotten more than enough fresh air.

The look that gained him as much as announced what an idiot Ron was. "Let me think, Weasley. There was this madman running about killing people and recruiting Slytherins left and right -- Voldemort, you know, that fellow? Can't imagine why I went off for ten years and kept to myself," Draco replied sarcastically.

Ron went a little pale, but... "But, Draco, you were... I mean, it wasn't like you had to join them, or... Never mind. So, what's you do while you were secluded?"

Stars. Answering the questions of Gryffindors. /Maybe,/ Draco thought, /I should have just come some other time to find out about him./

"He wrote. Potions work," Pansy announced primly. "Brilliant, really."

"Potions...?" Potions, oh, great, just like Snape, then... but no, Draco gave great head, the shirt as much as said so! Ron felt addled, but pressed on, "That's great, really. And what made you decide to have your little demon?"

THAT, Draco had to admit, was a question that went straight to his pride. "Weasleys have lots of children. Malfoys only rarely have more than one. I thought it was time to get a start," he declared as Damon peeked out and promptly hid his face again.

Ron gave a soft, nervous laugh, bending just a little. "He hides a lot -- shy...?"

"Apparently only with women," Millicent said sarcastically as Damon began to whimper and squirm.

Having his baby be so unhappy obviously had the same effect on Draco himself, because Ron noticed he was frowning. "Poor thing. Hey, Draco, I've got a room to myself if you want to talk without women around..." Well, not actually a room to himself, but there was a room in the dorms that was empty.

That didn't seem to help Damon any whole lot, as he began wailing at the mere suggestion, almost as if he knew what Ron was saying. "No, thank you, I think it would be better to just..."

"Just move along, Weasley." The potions master's voice hadn't changed at all since they'd graduated. It still sent shivers of fear down Ron's back, and he turned a little. "You're making the child cry."

"It grates on his ears," Pansy explained sweetly, and that made Damon cry even more loudly, refusing to be teased into complacence by bottle or toy or anything at all.

"Professor?" Draco sighed, looking up at him helplessly.

The man gave a very slight nod, hands reaching to touch the baby's cheek, grasp one tiny hand. "Damon...? The red-headed Weasel isn't much to be afraid of, young Malfoy." Not baby talk, as so many of the woman had subjected the baby to, but the professor's usual tones, low and seductive-sounding in Draco's ears.

It was almost humiliating that the baby stopped crying the moment those fingers touched him and then turned to gnaw on the things.

"He likes you," Draco explained with a smirk. "Can't say I blame him."

"It makes me wonder how much of your personality he's ended up with." Ron was all but brushed off, and completely ignored by them both. It wasn't fair! Snape sat down smoothly beside Draco on the bench, letting Damon grasp onto one lean finger and chew.

Ruefully, Draco shook his head. "A great lot of it, I suspect. He's a very spoiled demon, but I can't help myself. It's the way of Malfoys," he shrugged.

"Well," Ron said awkwardly. "I'll just be going along now, shall I?" He didn't even get a reply, which made it all the more humiliating. Perhaps it was only because Snape had showed up...?

"How strange," Pansy murmured to herself, though it was audible to all at that table. "I wonder why he wouldn't calm down so with a woman...?"

"He doesn't like them," Draco said pointedly.

"He didn't like Weasley, either," Blaise pointed out.

"It was all of that red hair. It's vulgar."

"Draco, he's none too fond of me, either," Blaise pointed out.

"How very odd, then," the head of their house mused -- without giving it more than a seconds thought, obviously, because he looked very unconcerned.

"He adores Professor Snape," Draco pointed out, Damon practically squirming over his shoulder to reach the dark-haired man.

"And you should probably let the professor hold him before he decides to crawl out of your arms," Blaise pointed out with a slight smile.

"Care to give it a whirl?" Draco asked, tilting back so that his shirt was in plain sight even with the squirming baby held up to Snape.

Snape took the baby in careful hands, settling Damon comfortably to be held in one arm, steadied by the other. Yet his eyes were without question on Draco's shirt. "Without a doubt I'd like to."

Tongue darted out, moistening lips. "By all means, then, do. He adores you, doesn't he? I knew my son would have excellent taste to accompany his excellent breeding."

THAT brought absolute howls of laughter from the remaining three Slytherins; it was, after all, so typically Malfoy, and even if the rest of the Hall thought they were mad, it didn't matter. At least they were alive, and not in Azkaban, and they could still manage to be themselves, not the softened, weakened things that the others expected them to be. And Draco could be sure that he'd made a good choice in coming, after all, because Damon gave them both a perfect excuse to interact. The baby was genuinely happy in the professor's arms, too, being jostled just a little, long fingers stroking over his back, while Damon grabbed a little fistful of black hair and just held.

Damon was very fond of hair.

"Well, Professor? Do you think we've mingled enough for the evening? To satisfy the rest of them, I mean," Draco asked with a pleased leer.

"I believe so. And, have you a room to yourself if we want to talk without women around...?" The purely wicked look in the man's eyes made Blaise burst into laughter -- apparently he, at least, had understood what Ron had been trying to imply with his pathetically worded bit.

"All to my lonesome," Draco agreed in a slow drawl that was quite enough to make even Millicent perk up.

"If you've had enough to eat, then... shall we go?" The professor moved back just slightly, waiting while Damon looked at his father, as if he was proud that he'd 'caught' Snape.

"Go where...?" Pansy managed to ask.

"Why, to look at the potions articles he's written, what else?"

"Much better than etchings, Pansy dear," Draco whispered as he stood, smiling wryly at the older man. "Maybe I'll even volunteer some of my fictional pieces later."

"It would hinge on just what sort of fiction it is..." When Draco was standing, they walked together -- past the other's tables, past the teachers with only a faint nod to Dumbledore, before Severus slipped out.

"All above-board and clean. Well, every bit of it that got printed, anyway," Draco replied, dangling Damon's diaper bag by its straps. He gave Severus a look that as good as promised he was as good as the shirt said. "Some of it was rather too naughty to print."

"It would've been most irregular if, during ten years of seclusion, you didn't write things that were far, far below board." Severus saw the look, and was suddenly very sure that the conclusion he'd made that morning was very right.

"Even smutty things that were far, far below board?" Draco teased.

"You're below the age of eighty, male and not an eunuch, correct?" Severus asked, his free hand moving to stroke Damon's downy-soft hair.

"Fully functioning in all ways," Draco agreed, smiling as Damon giggled and grasped that hand to gnaw upon its fingers.

The edges of Snape's mouth lifted a little as he let Damon mouth his loosely closed hand while they walked. "Then, I can't see any reason why what you wrote could be considered exceptionally odd."

"Hmmm." Oh, Draco was infinitely pleased with himself, and there was no hiding the fact that he was wildly excited in more ways than one. "Marvelous," he nearly purred.

"Does this... preempt our meeting of Sunday?" Severus drawled, taking a turn into the dungeons.

"I believe so, yes," Draco replied as they continued farther down, pausing outside of the concealed stone door in the wall that led to their common room. "Pride," he said simply, and it opened onto the warmth of the room within.

"I'm still interested in learning why..." But he wouldn't push for it, not if Draco didn't want to give him a why. After all, he could guess at that, too, and probably with just as much luck as he'd guessed the first one.

"I'd have thought you'd know," Draco said lightly, though his eyes said much, much more as they began the trek further down into the dungeons, leading towards the bedrooms below.

"Well, my memories of you have faded over a decade, Draco, so you'll have to forgive me for not immediately leaping to the simplest conclusion." He was walking close now, close enough for Damon to lean a little and get a handful of his father's hair, still leaning in Snape's arms.

"Sometimes, the simplest conclusions are the right ones," Draco told him a little huskily, laughing. "Sweet demon, don't pull out Daddy's hair. I'd like to keep it!"

"He seems to have a liking for hair -- yours in particular." Severus reached out a lean hand to untangle Damon's clutching fingers from Draco's hair, pulling carefully at those little digits, fingers brushing Draco's neck. Of course, he had to move closer, so Damon wouldn't pull to hard on any more that he caught... "I have a liking for it, too."

"That's remarkably good to know," Draco answered, mouth curving upwards, a distinctly sensuous sort of motion as he paused, extracting the last of his hair from Damon's clutch. "Night and day, aren't we?" he asked, glancing at Severus's own dark mop of glossy hair. As it was summer, and cool in the dungeons, it wasn't nearly so greasy as it was when he spent the winter slaving over cauldrons all day long. /I could get used to that,/ he decided.

"Outwardly exact opposites is so many ways," the potions masters agree, shifting Damon slightly in his arms. The baby gurgled in delight, leaning his face against Draco's shoulder. "If you've changed at all in the last decade, Draco, I would have to say that it's only been for the better."

With some care, Draco shifted the baby from Snape's arms to his own, and gained for his trouble a good pull of his hair as Damon latched hold of it again. "I hope you'll say that again tomorrow," he said wryly, sneaking a look up at Snape from beneath his lashes.

"Why would tomorrow make it any harder to say that...?" Snape was looking down at him, so close, lingering even though he didn't have to keep Damon close to his father any longer.

"It's been ten years," Draco said solemnly. "I might not be as good as I think. Even riding a broomstick might be hard after that long without, don't you think?"

"I think you're overestimating me if you think it's something I've kept up with, myself," the professor murmured, leaning near enough to almost kiss Draco.

"Oh," Draco whispered, shifting slightly closer. "I don't think I'm overestimating you at all." And his lips touched the other man's, and parted, and moved, tasting him lightly, so lightly.

All it took was for Severus to tilt his head a little for the kiss to turn perfect, warm lips parting to move bettered against Draco's. Light, careful pressure, angled to stir but not inflame Draco entirely. A dart of tongue against the younger Wizard's bottom lip, lingering at the edge. "Nor I, you."

"It's good we're so confident in one another's skills," Draco managed to whisper, his own reaching out to taste the same flesh and catching Severus's lightly. That resulted in another of those perfect kisses, and it made him shiver with the pleasure of it. /Merlin, yes.../

Black strands of hair slid forwards, caressing over his cheek when Snape leaned down into the slow kiss. Warmth seemed to spread down his spine, lingering at his lips where Draco's mouth was, and the sweet tangle there. "Perhaps we should move to your bedroom?" What to do with Damon, though -- the potions master was well aware of the baby's presence, because one tiny hand had decided to catch hold of his robes.

"That sounds like a very good idea," Draco whispered, and Damon squealed in seeming agreement, waving both hands despite the fact that they were attached to Snape's robes and his father's hair, respectively. "Ow..."

"Very much his father's son," Snape breathed against Draco's mouth, lean hands untangling the baby's fists again, both from Draco's hair and his own robes. "Which one have you been placed into...?"

"Third from the left on the bottom level," Draco answered, Damon squealing again and reaching for Snape's robes once more. He didn't quite catch them, for Draco laughed at him and pulled him close once again. "The others are on second level."

"How conveniently close to my own rooms," Snape told him, leading the way again -- still near, but not so near, as they walked, that Damon could snatch a hold of anything again. "You'll have to forgive me if I slip and call you Mr. Malfoy occasionally... Draco."

"That's all right, Professor," he said in return, slanting a look his way. "That might be a little fun.. and just a tad kinky..."

The older Slytherin arched an eyebrow at Draco, lips curling upwards for a moment in a pleased expression. "School boy fantasies?"

"You can't imagine how many nights I laid in that bed and thought of you," Draco drawled, cheeks flushing distinctly. "It tells on a man's thoughts after a while."

Pale cheeks flushing to a scarlet red was a beautiful thing that made Draco seem to gleam more than he already did in the familiar torchlight. "You were the cause of many Gryffindor detentions -- those brats distracted me from some of the most... enjoyable daydreams of bending you over your desk and fucking you."

"Maybe we could do that later," Draco suggested breathlessly.

Given that it was the start of summer, it was certainly an option. "And what will we do with Damon...?"

Draco grinned. "He naps every afternoon at four for an hour. Nothing wakes him. He's perfect, aren't you, sweet demon?" he asked. Damon's head bobbled happily by way of answer and then he squealed again, delighted. "Sleeps all night, too," Draco said, giving Snape a sideways glance.

The implications of that were obvious to them both; Severus clearly appreciated that idea, from the way he turned on the bottom step of the stairs, and pressed a soft kiss to the baby's forehead. "He is perfect."

"And he obviously has excellent taste," Draco agreed as the tiny boy patted Severus's face.

The smug look on the older Wizard's face said his agreement plainly, as he backstepped, and moved towards the third door. "Warded, or simply locked?"

"Just locked," Draco answered, "though Dobby might be in warming Damon's bed..."

"Dobby...? Ah, so that's where he went..." Right back to the Malfoys, though Snape had no doubt that Draco treated his elves better than Lucius had. A quick mutterance, and the third door sprang open before Severus even had a chance to lower his wand.

"Oh, is Master Draco back again? Cradle is all warm! Dobby made sure, and bottles on dresser... EEE! Is Professor!" the elf declared, ears flapping excitedly.

Snape never could tell if that was a good, excited 'eee', or a bad, frightened 'eee'. House-elves were hard to fathom creatures, no matter what. He let Draco go in first, Damon making delighted noises over all the fuss he'd been on the receiving end of, and then closed the door behind himself when he came in. "Yes, Dobby, it's Professor Snape."

The house elf nod-nod-nodded 'til it seemed that his head was going to bobble right off. "Yes, yes. Have missed Professor and requests for sweets. Yes, yes!" he declared, and Draco laughed, tucking Damon into the cradle near to one of the beds.

"Indeed," he said dryly. "And good night, sweet demon. Close your eyes..." A wave of a wand created a lullaby and brightly colored little blobs of color that danced over the bassinet.

Damon cooed at the floating blobs of color, fingers reaching for them for a few moments, before he snuggled in. That left Draco free to turn and see Snape glaring bloody murder at the house-elf for spilling the secret of his sweet tooth.

"Dobby, why don't you run along to the kitchens," Draco suggested, trying awfully hard not to smile. It was nearly a lost battle, but he managed, somehow. Somehow.

"Yes, yes! Dobby think he'll do just that!" the little elf squeaked, and promptly made himself scarce.

"Brilliant, for an elf," Snape muttered, glancing over to Damon and his bassinet. "So, he's asleep...?"

"For the next eight hours," Draco agreed, wondering precisely what would come next as he leaned a thigh against the high poster bed.

Given that most Wizards functioned perfectly on six hours of sleep... Two hours, at least, to enjoy themselves. Severus gave a definitive nod, and moved forwards towards the pale younger Wizard. "Then we should make the very best of it..."

"That sounds just..." Draco whispered, and moved to meet him, arms wrapping tightly about the other man's neck as he pressed close, tight. "Perfect..."

"I half expect your father to pop out from behind a curtain any moment now, to kill me," Severus drawled as he evaded Draco's mouth, and caught the side of his jaw instead, to nip there with surprising calm.

"I think I won't think about that," Draco decided with a little gasp, head dropping back to offer more of that jawline, more of his throat. "I think... Oh, GOD, that feels nice..." he whispered, hands shifting down to touch surprisingly firm arms hidden beneath the man's robes.

Oh, unexpected, but nevertheless a wonderful thing! Robes were deceiving things, and touch was so much more reliable... "Shall I show you how correct that shirt you're wearing is, Draco?"

"I think I'd love that," Draco purred, fingers shifting to dance down the buttons that hid the man beneath them. "I think I'd love that a lot."

A pointed suck could be felt against the pulse point between the edge of Draco's jaw, and the cords of his neck, and then Snape's tongue lathed lazy apology atop it. "I think you will... and I know you know the divestment spells, so use one..."

"Ohh, no," came the whisper, those fingers weaving slow magic all their own in a mundane fashion. "This is something I definitely want to do for myself. I've been thinking about it for almost fourteen years..." His first wet dream had been about Severus Snape, something to do with a potion and the man standing over him, as he recalled. "I'd hate to go and rush it now..."

"Then I'll have to simply content myself in covering your neck with marks until you've decided to give up on the buttons." Two full layers of them to cut through, Snape was aware of. At least Draco's shirt would pull right up off of his body, over slender arms, pale, beautiful skin... "I've done a great deal of dreaming, myself. You're going to scream so loudly that the Gryffindors will hear you."

"Oh, GOD, yes," Draco agreed, finally making his way through the first set of buttons only to find the second set belonging to a soft, crinkled white linen shirt beneath it. "My. You are well covered," he sighed, beginning to work his way down those as well, finally getting to flesh. His fingertips lingered over it, teased at it, slid inside of the shirt to caress wantonly. "I hope I keep them up all night," he whispered.

"We should put a charm over Damon so he won't awaken from the noise," Severus murmured, his own hands shifting and pulling Draco's shirt until he had his fingers wrapped around Draco's bared waist, searching for buttons so he could bare Draco's lower body, too. Draco's fingers were caressing half testingly, half knowingly, over the firm flesh, of his torso, over smooth skin.

"Mmmmm," Draco agreed, and his own mouth met warmth, the taste of skin and salt and bittersweet, the winging delicacy of collarbone exposed by the finally opened white shirt. "Can you reach..." he whispered against that damp flesh. "...a wand?"

Severus tilted his head back, fingers finishing off with the last of the buttons. They curled over Draco's cock atop the silken material of his boxers. "I believe I have..." With his free hand, he slipped the wand from his white shirt's sleeve, flicking it in the direction of the crib.

The little sound that Draco had given upon being touched had been intensely erotic; indeed, it had almost been enough to make Severus drop his wand, his hands shook so badly, but he managed to cast the spell all the same as Draco continued undressing him, shoving hurriedly now at robes and pants and pushing slightly to get everything else off of him.

Lean fingers kneaded gently, slipping over the wet spot on that silken fabric. Snape shrugged out of his shirt, letting go of Draco's prick long enough to toss his shirt and outer robes aside. Then before Draco had a chance to rid him of any more clothing, the potions master all but fell upon him, down to his knees and leaning forwards to free the younger Wizard's erection.

Severus may have temporarily lost his own wand in the fray, but he was sure to have a close grasp on the wand that was nearest and dearest to Draco.

In fear that his knees would give out at the mere sight, Draco leaned back against the bed, a hand going to one of the posts to help hold him upright. A deep breath pulled in didn't do much to calm him, so he let it out again, hands shaking, and reached for the darker man, shuddering with his touch. "Fuck..." he whispered, biting down on his lower lip.

Snape leaned, lips closing around the proud head of Draco's cock to suck for just a moment, tongue pressing against it. Then he pulled back just enough to murmur, "Do you care to try something more creative, on the bed...?"

"I think we can arrange that," Draco answered hoarsely, promptly pushing off the remains of his clothing and slipping up onto the high bed, holding out a hand to Severus, pure mischief suddenly gleaming in those grey eyes. "Come..."

The last of Severus's clothing hit the floor, pants discarded to reveal that the robes had been entirely too concealing of a very nicely formed body. Draco found his hand grasped, and Severus stretched out beside him on the bed -- but not so that he could kiss Draco's lips. No, his head was instead down by the younger Wizard's groin, picking up right away where they'd left off.

"Ohhhh..." He couldn't help that sound or the way that he bit his own lips almost as if to quiet it. "I was right," he said shakily, shuddering. "It does feel like being swallowed whole..." Carefully, he shifted, arms reaching for Severus's hips, tugging him closer, bringing him into reach. The man's cock was lovely, uncut and long. His fingers curled about it slowly, and he slid his tongue across the folds of skin, delving beneath carefully. "Hmmm..."

A shiver of sensation at the careful, stealing touch of that tongue, tasting salty musk just as Severus was doing the same. It nearly stole the other man's breath from him, as he kissed down the underside of Draco's cock. "Lovely..."

Delicious, Draco thought, and his brain was failing him, preferring to consider the musky smell and the texture of impossibly soft skin beneath his fingertips. One hand moved to clutch at Severus's hip, the other to gingerly cup the heavy weight that hung roundly beneath that hardness, and he ran his nose lightly from belly to root to tip. "Ohhh, yes..." Yes, and then he slipped his lips around the tip and ever so tenderly sucked.

He didn't have to drag Severus any closer, because with that suckle the other Wizard strained to shift his hips nearer to Draco's hot mouth. It had been too long since someone had done, particularly someone that he wanted to do the same to; it certainly stirred him to enthusiastic reciprocation, nipping and sucking along the prominent vein just beneath the swollen head of Draco's cock. It was a beautiful piece of work, and Severus was glad that it wasn't being wasted on a woman.

It felt deliciously sinful to lay there on dark green velvet, feather mattress moulding around them as they shifted, moaned, sucked. Draco's fingers feathered over Severus's inner thighs, teasing at him, and the taste of the man was in the back of his throat as he whined and took him deep, one hand coming to rest on the professor's ass to tug at him, pull him closer even though he didn't need to, even though he was already so close that it was almost difficult to breathe.

/So good... so perfect... so everything.../

Lips closed over Draco's cock again, sucking with perfect suction as the older Wizard pulled it into his mouth by teasing degrees. Draco seemed to be trying to simply overwhelm him with the perfect sensations, but Severus would make it last. An act of sheer will to not just give in when he felt Draco's throat flutter against the head of him, but he managed. Barely.

Barely.

The blond shifted against him, high-pitched whine sounding from his throat, and it was more than obvious that he was enjoying it -- enjoying it so immensely that he shook, hands trembling with each passing caress that Draco gave. It was all give and take, the fulfillment of desires that had not been slaked for long years, wants and needs that had gone ignored. Neither wanted it to end too quickly; yet how could there not be an immediate need when every part of it was so much pleasure that it almost hurt?

Still, if immediate need was filled then, they had the rest of the night to drag it out. Severus assured himself of that, between the spell cast over the bassinet and Draco's own words on how well the baby slept. Hours left... Severus took Draco in deep suddenly, down to the very root, still sucking. Why not give in to passion's call?

"MMN!!" Draco's entire body tensed with that motion, barely resisting the urge to come, shatter into thousands of well-pleasured pieces at the feel of it. Two more good strong sucks and he couldn't avoid it anymore, spilling explosively down Severus's throat.

A taste that was almost unfamiliar except for the occasional taste of his own, Severus carefully drank it down, letting little spill. His own hips hitched against Draco, trying to urge the younger man to more, to give him the same completion. It was all that Draco could do to think that far in the state that he was in, but he managed; managed to remember what he was doing and to suck hard, swallowing around the heavy erection in his mouth with unmistakable want.

The swallow tossed Severus over completion. The blond wizard felt lean hips jerk forwards against him, driving home until he was all but smothered, and forced to swallow a sudden gout of semen.

By the time he managed to pull away, he was trying to catch his breath, and also trying desperately not to laugh at himself. "Never thought," he panted a little, "that would go so fast. Wanted for... SO long..."

"We still have all night..." Severus's voice dipped into a sensual drawl, as he turned his head a little to kiss the inside of Draco's thigh. "And tomorrow you can go see the rest of your classmates while bleary-eyed and debauched."

"That sounds just beautiful," Draco agreed almost dreamily, nuzzling the tender flesh where thigh met body, tongue darting out to trace over it lightly. "Hmmmm. All night..." And tomorrow night, he hoped. And maybe quite a few nights after that, but he wasn't going to bring that up just yet... "And we can have 'tea' around four..."

"Without question." The dart of Draco's tongue made him shiver and close his eyes for a moment. He reciprocated the gesture, biting lightly at the inside of Draco's thigh, a thin path from there to the base of Draco's sated cock. "I think Mrs. Potter might have something planned... but she can bloody well piss off." His own plans were obviously more important, and those plans were detailed heavily in enjoying Draco's wonderful self.

Husky laughter sounded, Draco nuzzling against him. "Hmmmmmm, yes," he agreed, lips pressing to the roundness of testicles with a light brush. "Still a busybody, she is. Always up to something. Still can't believe she got better scores than me in Transfiguration!" Not that she'd managed it in Arithmancy or Potions, but still. "I can think of many more pleasant things to do," he whispered, cheek pressed to Severus's thigh.

Like teasing his mouth over sensitive skin that nearly sang from the first touches Draco had left on it. Severus had to move, though, and swung his body away from Draco so that he could come around and kiss the younger Wizard's mouth. "We could make a weekend of it." His research could go to rot for a weekend.

"That sounds just magnificent," Draco agreed in a whisper, opening to him, melting against him. Actually, the next hundred and twenty years sounded better, but... /One step at a time, Malfoy, old boy. One step at a time.../ "D'you suppose those stupid Gryffindors might come barging in to be sure I haven't offed myself if we just don't come out of bed all weekend?"

Kissing laying down was almost better than kissing while standing up -- perhaps it was the comfort of hte bed, or the fact that there weren't clothes between their two bodies to hinder the press of skin against skin, muscle to muscle. Severus felt drunk just from kissing Draco, and ate idly as the younger Wizard's mouth while he mused over a reply. "Why ever would you kill yourself?"

"Wouldn't," Draco denied between kisses. "Not stupid enough." He liked that steady twist of tongue and lip, the taste of Severus's kisses. "But you never know." Another one, lingering, sliding down to the older man's throat and teasing at the throbbing pulse before moving to kiss a collar bone. "They might hope."

"If they hoped, why would they even bother looking? Mm, don't stop that..." Severus let a hand cup the back of Draco's head, sliding into silky pale strands. He tried to coax more from the younger Wizard by roiling his hips up against Draco, rubbing their groins together.

"Wouldn't dream of it..." Draco whispered, hardening again. His tongue darted out to taste the slightly damp flesh at the hollow of Severus's throat and he groaned, the salty taste of fresh sweat delicious. "Don't ever want to stop," he breathed, hands roaming, flattening out over sides, over hips, teasing.

That was something to note, and file away for perusal at a later time. For then, though, Severus simply breathed, "Then don't stop..." His body arched in a graceful motion against Draco, fingers of his free hands reached down to tease along the crevice of Draco's firm ass.

The motion gained him a little hitch of breath, a pause in Draco's motion, a sound that was very very wonderful to hear. "Wouldn't dream of it," he repeated, voice a low purr as he nipped with some amount of consideration, biting Severus's shoulder.

Biting, ohh... Severus closed his eyes, and made an encouraging noise, fingers stroking slowly in response to Draco's noise. "Better to dream of other things..."

"Yes..." That affirmative was good, and gained him another sharp bite of white teeth, tongue lathing over the red mark left behind. "Good...." God, he was so hard! Draco shivered; he hadn't gotten hard again like that since... Well, since the last time he'd been in a room with Severus Snape, he thought wryly.

And now he had the man, beneath him, arching up to him and baring his neck, anything Draco wanted. Severus's own cock was stirring to life languidly once more, something that amazed him beyond grasp -- already, he wanted more! "You're going to be... bloody exhausted by morning..." he promised.

"Wonderful. I hope I walk funny, too," Draco said, lifting his face to smirk down at the older man, strands of silken platinum hair falling to frame that look.

"I can certainly arrange that -- have you yet, Draco?" He would've been highly surprised if the young man atop him hadn't.

"...does it matter?" Draco asked, suddenly worried that the answer he gave wouldn't be the correct one. It had just been the once, and that had been nearly twelve years prior to this moment where they lay naked together...

"Not at all," Severus purred in bemusement, "as long as you aren't expecting a blushing virgin for a lover, either." Flushed with lust, and a bit overexcited, yes, but certainly not blushing. "I only asked with your ease in mind."

Relieved, Draco's mouth twisted upward in a little smile, not quite a smirk. "Once. Twelve years ago." /And I was thinking about you the entire time./ That was why he hadn't ever done it again.

"Must not have been so good," Severus drawled in a sultry whisper, leaning up to catch those twisted lips in his mouth. Draco's worry was something else to tuck away -- one just didn't worry over a one-night stand!

"Wasn't you," Draco whispered against them, unable to lie about it despite wanting to. He'd been able to lie to Blaise about it, of course; at the time, he'd simply murmured the appropriate words, done the deed, but the whole time, he'd been thinking about someone else. It had been an appalling letdown. "Could've been better, I'm certain."

Long fingers stroked through his hair, lingering with unexpected, and unthought of tenderness. "Then let us see how it can be now." And just as quickly as Severus had initially taken him into his mouth, Draco found himself rolled over, with Severus now atop him.

Legs tangled, and Draco brought one of his up to press against Severus's erection, chuckling to find himself pressed into the mattress. "I think... it will be very... VERY... GOOD."

"I think so, too." That was an assured purr of noise, while the older wizard thrust against that leg with a dip of his hips. "So you wanted this for years...?"

"Used to think about it in class," Draco answered, moaning as his own cock brushed carefully against a hipbone. "Could hardly think about anything else the year I was fifteen!"

The motion came again, slower this time, and Severus moaned with him when a slight side-shift brought their cocks together. "You don't have to think any longer..." Because very shortly, once he'd teased them both into a frenzy, Snape was going to lose himself in Draco's body.

The blond man shifted with him, arched, shuddered. "God, that feels so..." he managed to grind out, reached between them to tease fingers over their cocks, pressing them together. "So..." Tongue darted out, tasted his own mouth before he leaned up and pressed lips to Severus's, devouring him whole.

Wanton.

Debauched.

Needy.

Most importantly, his. Giving himself over, every dark shadow swept out for Severus to observe, every want and little weak point -- a risk for Draco, but he was trusting the professor to not abuse it. Something was murmured against his lips, Severus slipping a hand between Draco's back and the bedding. Grey eyes caught sight of a glassy glint in the older Wizard's hand, and felt slick fluid pouring over their cocks.

Draco gave an audible gasp, whole body stiffening slightly as he fumbled loose a soft curse and a groan. "Feels almost too good," he finally managed to say, shuddering. "Feels... GOD!"

"Louder," Severus encouraged, slipping down enough to do what Draco had done for him -- bite lightly at his neck, kiss and suck snow-pale skin that seemed to beg to be marked. Slippery fingers pumped over them both for a moment, then stole between Draco's legs, one knee parting them further open. "I want to hear your screams echo from the walls..." If his voice sounded a bit ragged, a bit panting, it was excusable. "Use your beautiful voice."

"God, yes, God, yes.." It seemed to be all he could ramble loose, those words, and his whole body was arching into Severus's touches, into mouth and fingers and the press of skin on skin. He gave a little cry as a thumb pressed behind his balls, caressing over the tender flesh there with a firmness that made the blood-filled flesh above it twitch. "PLEASE, fuck, yes!"

Severus wanted to milk those noises from Draco for hours, and probably could if he could just force down his own lust enough to pull it off. Not at the moment, though. At the moment, it was all he could do to tease at the younger Wizard, thumb slipping down to press into him. "'Please'?"

"Please," Draco rambled hoarsely, gasping as that digit opened him, made him squirm. His face was flushed with heat, and he was pushing up to the touch despite the stretching feeling of it, or maybe even because of it. "Please, God, please, yes, Merlin, Professor..." It sounded almost bizarre to call him that, but... "Oh, yes. Severus..." That name felt so good on his lips that he had to give it again, groaning loudly.

Lips dragged mercilessly over his chest, kissing and nipping without care for response -- it was more to taste the young Wizard beneath him, at least until he fastened his mouth over one perked nipple. It received its first strong suckle when he slid his thumb into Draco's body.

Heat flooded the blond man, a cracked cry loosening from his throat as his entire body arched into that touch. It brought him closer to Severus, the digit deeper into his body, and he wrapped his legs tightly around Severus's, hands moving up to clutch at strands of black hair as fine as Damon's. "FUCK!"

It sounded like a pleased sort of noise, an outcry of... pleasure? Enjoyment? He couldn't tell, only that Draco was trying to goad him to more. His twitched his thumb, bending it a little, before bringing a slicked finger to press against the entrance to join it. "Patience, Draco..."

"Don't... have any," Draco declared, and it wasn't a lie. He was tight around Severus's thumb, and the finger that crept in beside it slick with unknown potion made him moan, shifting restlessly beneath the other man's touch. "Good..."

Lips lowered again, tickled against his nipple. "Yes, it is... I want you." There was possession in his voice, as he worked that finger in steadily, parting them after a moment.

"YES!" It was pure, raw sound, and Draco was shifting his hips up impatiently for more of that touch, more of Severus's hands, more of everything. "Yes, please, please. Wanted so long. So... so... PLEASE!" Since he knew what it was. What sex was. What he wanted. What he needed....

"Do you want me to fuck you, Draco...? Is that what you want? My cock inside your body... child?" A teasing, sharp drawl, as his fingers slid out of Draco, moving to slip over his already slicked cock. "You're beautiful, Draco. Exquisite in ways that your father never was..."

The implications there were more than a little perverted, and they definitely made him hot. Oh, they made him want it even worse than he had before, and his eyes opened, gleaming up and into black. "YES, I want you to fuck me.. Professor," he returned just as prettily as he'd been called child.

His legs were shifted when Severus sat back, hands grasping Draco's legs behind the knees to pull them up over his shoulders. "This is every detention I could never give you." The words made Draco's cock jump visibly, his lips parting as he pulled in a deep, shuddering breath, the imagery wild in his mind.

"Please...!"

It was clear that Severus knew what he was doing, when he dipped his hips against Draco's, just enough to wedge the head of his cock against Draco's fluttering entrance. A little breath of anticipation left him, and he tried to not simply delve in too quickly.

"Please..." It was a plaintive whimper, and the pressure that began to push him open slowly made him groan, hands reaching up to clutch at his own hair wildly. "OH, GOD! Fuck... Fuck... YES....!"

Hands rubbed at the sides of his legs, massaging and rubbing as he pushed in with an aching slowness. "Merlin, you're tight!"

"B-been.. long time," Draco panted, whole body flexing up to the man. The tight stretching made him moan; it stung, more than a little, but it also felt so incredibly fucking good that he thought he could come right then with little more than a touch, the proper shift of Severus's body. "Oh, GOD, YES!"

So long, it felt, that Draco might as well have been a virgin. As Severus pushed in, he was ready to swear that his cock was going to be snapped right off by the tight muscle. "Push out -- Draco, oh, push out."

That made it easier, helped him to slide in and brush delicately against the inner wall, drawing another strangled cry from the bitten red lips that were parted for breath. Draco's face was flushed, his eyes slitted, and there was no question that Severus was deeply wanted. "Fuck.. PLEASE..."

Fuck, please. Severus would have to comment on it later -- because for the moment, he did just what Draco had been begging. Bent down over the shorter body, caught those beautiful lips, and started to thrust his hips without any other warning.

The stinging died down and Draco flexed his entire body to meet Severus's motions, short, sharp cries spilling from within him every time they met, body to body. His cock was crushed between them and he shuddered, shifting his arms to tug at the dark man, pulling him down to steal his lips again, the last kiss not enough. Even then, he couldn't muffle his cries as he shook, shifting with every lunge, whole body given over to the action in that moment.

Hard, thrusting motions, and Draco could swear they were shifting over the bed -- it was very possible, since the roiling kisses that neither were going to let end disoriented them both. Smooth skin, and a tickle of hair, rubbed over his arching cock, as the older wizard continued to thrust into him. So, so close...

Close, it turned out, to the edge of the bed, for his head was over it and half of his shoulder, as well, before he managed to let loose and gasp out the other wizard's name. "Severus! We're falling off of the bed!"

Too late for it -- with an ill timed thrust, they fell. Right over, and onto the floor, though Severus all but snarled a spell to cushion their joined slip.

Despite the jar of it, Draco was laughing as they began to untangle themselves. He was fairly certain he'd bruised a hip, and he'd hit his funnybone, to boot. "Next time," he said, "I think we should get a bigger bed."

"Mine," Severus agreed, as a shift brought him the rest of the way out of Draco, and he simply loomed over his partner, regathering his breath. "Damn the luck."

"It just means we get to start over," Draco assured him, argent eyes turning dark for a moment as he gave a feral smile, standing to push Severus back into the bed.

Grey gaze turned from silver to steel was formidable, though Severus let himself be prodded backwards. "Start over where we were," the professor asked, "Or start over, period?"

"Start over," Draco purred simply, allowing the other man to sit and lean back before he came over him, knees on either side. "Just... Start over. I want to do..." His mouth caught Severus's, moved once more to nip at a shoulder. "EVERYTHING."

"This is what I deserve for being slow enough for you to pick things up," Severus moaned quietly, pressing towards that nip. His hands lifted entirely of their own will, to grasp Draco's waist, stroking down to his hipbones.

"You think?" Draco asked him, prodding him further into the bed. He was going to make very sure that they were in the middle of it before he did any of the things he wanted to do, and he fully intended to do quite a few of them.

Almost reluctantly, Severus agreed. "Unfortunately. And tomorrow we're going to be in my quarters." Because the bed was larger, among many other things.

"That sounds..." A hand trailed down his side, grasping the slick protrusion of muscle at his groin and stroking. "Delightful."

Draco had the joy of watching Severus's face go completely lax in pleasure, a moan slithering loose. "That's perfect, Draco..."

The blond man kissed him again, now slick fingers heading further down. He wanted, for the moment, to see if Severus liked being touched there as much as he did, and the pure and complete intention wasn't going to be denied. "Like this...?" he whispered, parting cheeks slowly, teasing his way closer... closer...

He halfway had his answer, because Severus didn't stop him, or say a word of protest -- and Severus Snape was nothing if not a man who was quick to say you were doing something wrong. Draco found his lips caught fiercer, and a hand at his hip dragged him closer still. "Like that..."

It was the absolute pinnacle of every wet dream he'd ever had, Draco decided, finger sliding inside slickly as he moaned, feeling the clutch around it. Professor Severus Snape, naked and wanting to do anything that he wanted to do, too... and he truly hoped that anything was every good thing he'd ever considered! "Is this all right...?"

"I'll have to turn you into something... ohhh, disgustingly cute if you stop moving your hand..." His own hand clutched at Draco's side, pulling him closer in want. His hips pushed up to that finger, and a panted breath left him. "More."

"Disgustingly cute?" It was a breathed question, but he didn't stop, couldn't bring himself to stop, could only pry at that delicate aperture with fervent touch, needy fingers. "Such as?" As if either of them could think well enough to come up with such a thing!

"Something... something... pink." It was the best that Severus could come up with, as he slid a long leg around behind Draco's thighs, trying to jerk him closer. "Now..."

"Now," Draco agreed, obeying. Pink was quite a threat, but truth be told he wanted to be where Severus was pushing him so much he could hardly think!

Fingers slipped loose, with barely enough preparation, and Severus tugged again, trying to drag his companion into him. He was still needy from what they'd been doing before, and both of them were still well-slicked thanks to his pervasive potion. "Fuck me."

"If you say that again, I swear I'll come before I can," Draco gasped out, shuddering as he began to push slightly, wanting inside, wanting to take the man and to come in him and to just do anything so long as it was body to body, flesh to flesh.

Severus was guiding it, hands sliding down to Draco's ass to pull him closer with a jerk of motion. Closer and in -- his own ragged moan sounded in the room, a pleasured outcry at the sudden stretching-stuck-filled feeling. "Fuck yes... Ah, yes... Ahh..."

So much for control.

Draco groaned, shuddering, tugging at sweat-damp locks of black hair to pull him close, to kiss him again. Hips shifted, pistoned back and forth in a quick, hard motion, leaving little time for adjustment. He wasn't sure he could wait for anything at all, and he hoped to God Severus would be able to take it, because if he couldn't, they'd have to switch positions again, and Draco just knew he'd come all over the place if they had to change again!

Kisses muffled any noises of discomfort that might have come when Draco started his frantic pace, and Severus was goading it on with legs wrapped tight around him, hands that pulled him in deeper. Perfect, with every jolt of Draco's cock -- not too much in any direction, and far from too little -- scraping over his prostate or nudging it. Caught between their bodies, his cock, already so close, felt as if it were going to be rubbed right off.

They were trembling, both of them, and shifting across the mattress again with the sheer force of motion and wanton activity. Draco's hands braced against the velvet beneath them, breath panting out sharply as he shifted his thighs almost underneath Severus to tilt him up, offer a better angle, and his eyes closed tightly. Almost... Almost... If he could just hang on...

The steady caress of lips broke, just long enough for Severus to gasp out something that was loud and utterly incoherent, before Draco felt a hot splash against his belly, and then another pulse of it. Muscles clutched around him suddenly, and Severus's entire body seemed to seize up, hands clutched tight onto the blond man's back. It was more than enough incentive for Draco to cry out as well, a sharply strangled sound that echoed back from the walls. Two more sharp thrusts of hip and thigh and he came, shuddering from the sheer wild pleasure of it even as he collapsed onto Severus's body, thoughts and breath both having escaped him entirely.

The older wizard was still wrapped tightly around him, minutes later, when movement was thinkable once more, and thought almost possible. "That... was worth waiting for," Snape purred near his ear, because Draco hadn't moved from where he'd collapsed atop him.

"'d wait for it again," Draco mumbled in agreement, face nuzzling into the hollow of Severus's throat. Maybe not another fourteen years, though. No, that would be much too long. "We don't have to wait for it again, do we?"

Long fingers were playing at the back of his neck, and shoulders, caressing lazily over sinew, but with a great deal of interest in the touch. "Not on my account."

"Oh, good," Draco said sleepily. "Another fourteen years would be unbearable."

"Another fourteen years, and I'll probably be teaching Damon. Go to sleep -- I believe we deserve... need a rest." And he wasn't planning on moving to shift the velvet bedding at all. Draco was still partly in him, and warmth and sweat and heat left over was more than enough to keep him comfortable through the night.

A little sigh filtered over his skin, teasing at it, cooling it, and he felt Draco's mouth shift into a smile. "Wake me if you get cold," he managed to murmur, and then he closed his eyes, and he slept, as easy as that.

The idea of the class reunion seemed much more attractive to Severus Snape in the moments between that and his own sated slumber.

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