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drachenminaTitle: The Riddle of the Grange
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
drachenmina
Giftee:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
empathic_siren
Word Count: ~18,800
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter,
Warnings: Character death (not Severus/Harry)
Part 1
Part 2
Part Three
After his somewhat embarrassing departure from Potter’s lodgings, Severus ducked into a public house and ordered a pint to mull over the evidence at his leisure. He was unable to rid himself of the strong conviction of Riddle’s guilt – but was he blinded by jealousy over the young man’s attempt to seduce his Harry? Severus was brought up short by the sudden realisation of the way in which he had thought of his young constable. Was this, then, more than a passing dalliance? Taking a firm grip of his emotions, Severus forced himself to concentrate on the case. The greatest mystery concerned Lady Dumbledore’s prevarication – therefore, he would have to confront her and try to force a confession.
Again, though, he was confronted by the lack of any obvious motivation for her mendacity. He could discern no reason for either her or her husband to wish the Riddles dead. But why, then, would she lie? Whom else would she seek to protect? As he took the first sip from his pint, it came to him in a flash. Blackmail! Yes, that must be it. Riddle, assisted no doubt by that odious excrescence who served him, was blackmailing either Lady Dumbledore or her husband – over what, Severus couldn’t say, but he was willing to wager it had something to do with the mysterious and scandalous first Lady Dumbledore. Perhaps her barmy old husband had murdered her in order to marry the present Lady Dumbledore, and Riddle possessed evidence of this that was damning enough to persuade the lady to assist in covering up Riddles own homicidal endeavours.
Severus took a gulp from his pint glass, savouring the taste of the bitter ale. Yes, that was it. And Lady Dumbledore was the key: if he could induce her to confess that she had been coerced into perjury, Riddle would be his. To that end, he would gather the suspects together and confront them with the evidence. It was not yet four o’clock; there should be ample time to arrange matters for this evening. Severus smiled to himself, ignoring the worried glances other pub-goers sent his way. Yes: tonight was the night. And Harry would be there too.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was nine o’clock that evening, and the company had assembled as Severus had requested. All of them sat around the drawing room at Phoenix Hall, saving of course Pettigrew who cringed by the door. Riddle had not looked pleased at Severus’ insistence that the butler be included in the party – but then, he would undoubtedly look even less pleased once he had been tricked into a confession of his fiendish crime, Severus thought with satisfaction.
Severus tapped on his brandy glass for silence, and cleared his throat. All eyes were upon him as he commenced his speech. “I have called you all here, as you are no doubt aware, for a most solemn purpose: the unmasking of the Murderer of The Grange!” He smirked inwardly at the frisson of excitement that ran through most of those present at his dramatic opening and raised a sardonic eyebrow at Tom Riddle’s outwardly bored demeanour. He hadn’t been born yesterday.
In clipped tones, Severus enumerated the facts of the case. As they were few, only Sir Albus’ eyes were beginning to glaze over by the time Severus had reached the first point upon which he wished to surprise a confession of the truth: “…and now to the mysterious apparition Lady Dumbledore claims to have witnessed – a claim which my young assistant and I have proven conclusively to be false!” There was a general murmuring, but the lady herself sat straight-backed and silent, waiting for Severus to continue.
“Why, I asked myself, should Lady Dumbledore make a false claim of this nature? Was it merely one of those hysterical imaginings to which the feminine mind is so prone? No, for Lady Dumbledore has shown herself to be a solid, sensible woman, not liable to overheating of the brain. We are faced, then, with the inescapable conclusion that she lied!”
As the company reeled in horror, Lady Dumbledore rose gracefully from her seat. “Indeed, Chief Inspector, you have discovered me. The game, as they say, is up. Yes, Chief Inspector: I lied. And as I am quite sure that your keen intellect has already drawn the only possible conclusion from that, I confess. It was I, Chief Inspector, who murdered the Riddles.”
There was a collective gasp, and Thomas Riddle even took a step back in his surprise at her words. Sir Albus merely twinkled dementedly.
Collecting himself swiftly, and striving to cover his own astonishment – he had been so certain Riddle was the guilty party, and he’d been planning to go on for hours before getting to the point where the malefactor confessed all – Severus was stern. “Might I beg your indulgence, madam, in explaining to us all just why you saw fit to commit such an atrocity?”
“Certainly, Chief Inspector.” The lady inclined her head gracefully. “It will come as some surprise to you all, no doubt – with the exception of dear Albus, who is fully acquainted with my past – that my marriage to him fifteen years ago was not the first occasion on which I was wed. I had been married some years previously – to the late Mr Thomas Riddle, father of our young guest!” She smiled at Riddle, who merely stared at her.
“Madam, continue!” Severus urged on behalf of them all.
“My first marriage, I am afraid to say, was a hasty, ill-judged affair. It took place in Naples, where Mr Riddle had rented a villa following a particularly violent dispute with his father – indeed, they never saw one another again. I was engaged as a companion to a rather disagreeable lady of Mr Riddle’s acquaintance who was travelling through Italy. I was, I may say, quite a beauty in my youth – “
“Still are, Minerva my dear, still are!” Sir Albus broke in gallantly.
The lady inclined her head graciously to her husband and continued. “Wishing only to escape my situation, I found out too late what manner of man I had married – it pains me to tell you this about your father, Tom, but really, he was the worst sort of bore. Finding myself within a few months enceinte, I resolved upon a daring plan: I bribed the midwives who attended my confinement to tell my husband I had died in childbirth, whereupon I slipped away, leaving my son to the care of his father and a wet-nurse.”
Riddle stepped forward. “Then, Lady Dumbledore, you are my mother? But I was told her maiden name was Gaunt.”
Lady Dumbledore fixed him with a pained look. “My dear boy, if you had been so unfortunate as to be christened with the name Merope Gaunt, I am quite sure that you too would have changed it at the earliest opportunity. And in any case, I could hardly live under my own name, without alerting my husband to my continued existence.” She smiled fondly at the somewhat shell-shocked youth. “It has been my great pleasure, Tom, to watch you grow up these last fifteen years.”
Riddle turned to her husband. “Sir Albus, were you aware of this?”
“Oh, indeed, yes, dear boy.” He turned twinkling eyes upon his wife, seemingly unperturbed that she had just confessed to a double murder. “And now, my dear, I think you should tell young Tom about his brother, don’t you?”
All eyes snapped back to Lady Dumbledore, who had coloured slightly. “Indeed, Albus, you are right, as always. I’m afraid I must beg the indulgence of the company present for the loneliness of a young lady, recently escaped from an unhappy marriage, and her lover, still trapped in his own. You see, Tom, you are not my only child – and by happy chance, your brother is here.” The eyes of the company followed her gaze with disbelief as it settled on… Potter? “Harry, my dear. Can you ever forgive your mother?”
Severus wished the dratted boy would shut his mouth – he looked most unattractive with it hanging open like that.
“You’re – you’re my mum? So who’s my dad?”
It was Sir Albus who answered. “Why, I am, of course, dear boy! Naturally, we should have liked to keep you – but unhappily, I was still married to the first Lady Dumbledore at the time of your birth. And in any case, I must confess I’m not getting any younger! Small children can be so dreadfully exhausting, wouldn’t you agree?” He twinkled benignly at his son, and for once Severus couldn’t blame the poor boy for gaping at him gormlessly.
Lady Dumbledore smiled fondly at them both, and then continued. “And now, Chief Inspector – ”
Severus was alarmed. “Madam, before you make any startling assertions about my parentage, I feel I should inform you that my mother is alive and well and running a tea-shop in Harrogate.”
“Ah, dear Eileen. How is she these days? We were at school together, you know. No, Chief Inspector, I have, I am glad to say, no more revelations to make. I simply wished to ask you to allow me a few moments alone to collect myself before you arrest me. I can assure you that if you grant me this indulgence I shall give you no further trouble.”
Severus, despite his misgivings, felt honour-bound to allow the lady to withdraw. Potter, meanwhile, was standing there with a dazed look upon his face. Severus felt the unwelcome stirring of sympathy within his breast. To finally discover his parents – only to learn that one of them would shortly be hanged for murder! Severus found himself almost inclined to curse the conventions of society that prohibited him from offering the boy any comfort. Sir Albus, however, was subject no such restriction and placed a paternal arm around the lad he had so callously abandoned to the trials of the orphanage. Severus would definitely have to have words with him afterwards.
Riddle, meanwhile, was pacing the room, looking remarkably cheerful. Severus snorted. No sign of any family feeling there. Suddenly, there was a loud bang, following which the door burst open and a panicking maidservant screamed “Fire!” Severus, who had half-expected to hear the report of a revolver as the lady took a course of action more commonly known as the gentleman’s way out, was nonplussed by this tale of a conflagration. Perhaps the maid was merely hysterical? He ran through the door to the hall, where he found smoke already billowing down the staircase. “It’s ‘er ladyship’s gas lamp – I always said they was dangerous!” the servant wailed.
Smoke was pouring out from under the door that led to Lady Dumbledore’s boudoir. Severus hesitated – then found himself thrust aside by Potter who flung open the door. Immediately a great wave of heat and flame threw him backwards; undeterred, he pressed a handkerchief to his mouth and hurtled into the burning room. Severus cursed, and picking himself up, ran after him. The idiot was trying to get through the anteroom to the bedchamber beyond, from where the conflagration had spread, and where the lady must be trapped – or most likely, had already burnt to death. But the room was ablaze – even as Severus entered, the curtains fell down from the window, setting the boy’s uniform jacket alight. Grabbing a throw from the sofa, which had as yet miraculously escaped the flames, Severus wrapped the heroic fool in it and wrestled him out of the room.
“No – let me back in there – she’s my mum!” the anguished young man protested.
“Harry, you cannot save her! And for what? Would you rather watch her hang? This was her choice, boy – do you think she would want you to throw your life away on one already forfeit?” Severus’ voice was hoarse from the smoke and from the unexpectedly acute pain he felt at the thought of Harry – his Harry – losing his life in that awful inferno.
“But I’ve got to – “ the young man protested, tears running down his soot-smirched face.
“No, Harry. There is nothing you can do,” Severus told him more softly this time, leading him down the stairs as swiftly, and as gently, as he could.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
There had been nothing for it to evacuate Phoenix Hall and watch it burn with all the ferocity of its namesake. Sir Albus had confirmed Severus’ estimate of his senility by remaining remarkably chipper throughout, despite the loss of his wife and home – merely commenting cheerfully that dear Minerva had never really cared for the old pile. Riddle had bid them all a curt goodnight and returned to the Grange with his toadying servant scurrying along in his wake, apparently caring not a jot whether his mother’s widower had anywhere to sleep that night. Severus, who had always disliked the young man, now found himself positively seething that the arrogant young pup had not turned out to be the murderer after all. If there was ever a man Severus would rejoice to see hang, it was Thomas Bloody Riddle.
Harry, still wrapped in the throw Severus had used to save him, seemed dazed and somewhat shocked by it all. It was Sir Albus, in the end, who suggested blithely that they all repair to the King Harry pub, where he was sure his brother would be able to put them up. Severus readily concurred, feeling that whilst he couldn’t care less whether the senile old philanderer (or, for that matter, his servants) had a roof over their heads for the night, he was very definitely in need of a stiff drink.
Once arrived at the hostelry, upon seeing Harry’s pale face grow yet whiter at the sight of all the locals eager for gossip, Severus made a snap decision. “Come, Potter – I’ve a bottle of brandy in my room, and I doubt that being gawped at by these idiots is what you require right now.”
Harry didn’t resist as Severus led him gently up the stairs. Once they were in privacy, it occurred to Severus that he should ensure that the boy had not been hurt when essaying that reckless rescue. “Take off your jacket, Potter – I want to see if you’ve been burned.”
Harry gave a wan smile and complied. “I’m fine, I think – it was just my jacket that caught it.” And indeed, the fabric of his shirt was singed, but not burned. Severus told himself it was unforgivably selfish to be disappointed that the boy need not remove his shirt.
Severus slung his own jacket tiredly upon a chair and poured out two glasses of brandy, his own rather more generous than that he gave to the boy. Joining him sitting upon the bed, he sighed. “I suppose I shall have to get you home after this,” he muttered.
“Um, yeah. I suppose,” shrugged Harry, sounding intriguingly doubtful about the idea. “I don’t have to go right now, though, do I?” he asked, the hopeful note in his voice sending a thrill down Severus’ spine.
Again, Severus was forced to speak sternly to himself. To take advantage of a boy who had just lost his mother would be utterly reprehensible! Of course, a treacherous little voice seemed to whisper from the vicinity of his cock, they were hardly close – she abandoned him, after all.
“You know, it’s funny,” Harry began, “but I feel I should, well, feel more. I mean, she was my mum. But she killed two people and she dumped me in an orphanage – I mean, when we were back in Phoenix Hall, all I could think of was that I had to save her – but I s’pose you’re right, it wouldn’t really have done her any good.”
“I must commend you upon your mature attitude to these unfortunate events, Harry. This evening must have been quite a shock for you,” Severus commiserated, feeling hope beginning to blossom in his breast. And in places lower down, as well.
Harry grimaced. “Yeah. I mean – Thomas Riddle’s my brother? He snogged me!” He shuddered. “Still, I’m glad Sir Albus is my dad. He’s always been really nice to me, you know.”
Severus was quite certain he would not personally consider abandoning a baby to be brought up by total strangers as being really nice, but he forbore to comment. Harry had been through quite enough for one night. “Another drink?” he asked solicitously, topping up his own glass.
“Um, better not. I mean, I’ve got to get back across town to Mrs Figg’s, haven’t I?“
Severus almost purred at the questioning tone in the boy’s voice. “Perhaps, Harry, it might be better if you stayed here. After all, I should not wish anything untoward to happen to you.” Unless of course I’m the one making it happen, he appended silently.
Harry grinned and shuffled a little closer to Severus on the bed which, Severus was thankful to note, was of far sturdier construction than the one in Harry’s grim little garret. “Well, if you’re sure I won’t be in the way?”
Severus responded by snaking an arm around the boy’s slender waist, feeling the warmth of his body through the rough uniform shirt which he hoped to be removing in the very near future. “Hm, I think I may possibly be able to make room for you. I believe, by the way, it is time we got rid of those spectacles.” As he spoke, Severus suited the action to the words, and then leant in to kiss the boy softly on the lips. His kiss was returned with gratifying fervour and Severus gently but firmly pushed the boy down until he was lying on top of him. Finally, he was where he wanted to be! Harry’s kisses grew hungrier, and he pressed his hips up to grind a satisfyingly hard cock into Severus’ groin. Severus ground back, unable to suppress a moan, and he started to tug Harry’s shirt out of his trousers, aching to get at the bare skin underneath. It proved frustratingly difficult, so he rolled to one side to unbuckle Harry’s belt. Darkening green eyes watched him from beneath heavy lids, and Harry’s breath grew faster. At last those damnable trousers were unfastened, and Severus pushed up the boy’s shirt, revealing a flat belly with soft, dark hair forming an enticing trail downwards from his navel. As Severus feasted his eyes upon the delectable sight, Harry drew back a little, looking slightly uncertain. “Um, I haven’t actually done a lot of this sort of thing, you know,” he mumbled a little shamefacedly.
Severus’ heart sang. “All the better, Harry,” he growled.
“Really?” the boy persisted, with touching naïveté. “You’re not disappointed?”
Severus smirked. “Disappointed? I hardly think so. I have no wish to picture you in the arms of another man, Harry. But tell me, what is the extent of your experience?” Severus held his breath, hoping he wasn’t about to hear more than he wanted to.
“Um, just kissing and touching,” Harry admitted. “And that was only with Ce- one bloke.”
It was sweet music to Severus’ ears. “We shall be doing much more than that tonight, I can promise you,” he purred.
Whilst he was pleased to see a touch of maidenly trepidation flicker through the boy’s eyes, Severus was, in fact, in a bit of a quandary. What he wanted to do was to fuck the boy through the mattress – but he was quite aware that for the novice fuckee, there could be a not inconsiderable amount of pain involved in the process, and he was loath to do anything to scare Harry off now he had finally got him into his bed. “Do you trust me?” he asked, gazing into the boy’s eyes.
“Should I?” Harry retorted boldly.
Severus smiled. “With an attitude like that, Harry, I can see you’ll go far at Scotland Yard. I won’t lie to you; what I wish to do to you is likely to involve some discomfort at first. However, it is my firm belief that you will not regret having had the courage to go through with it.”
It was as he had hoped: any appeal to Harry’s bravery had his chin (and other things) pointing firmly skywards. “I’m not scared,” Harry announced resolutely, only the faint bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed giving the lie to his words.
“Excellent,” Severus purred. “Now, why don’t we get you a little more comfortable?” As he spoke, one hand snaked up to Harry’s shirt buttons, which he deftly unfastened, baring those fresh young nipples that had so delighted Severus before Mrs Figg’s untimely interruption. Damn, he’d missed those. He kissed them fondly, then added a gentle bite that had Harry writhing and gasping.
“Mm-mmm,” Harry murmured dazedly. “Y’know, I think we ought to get you more comfortable too, Chief Inspector. ‘S only proper.”
“Indeed, Harry?” Severus arched an eyebrow. “Then as my assistant, it is your duty to assist me.” Harry’s lazy grin did strange things to Severus’ insides as the boy obediently started to unbutton his superior’s shirt. Once he had opened it, Severus could wait no longer and tore it off entirely, pressing his naked chest to the boy’s soft skin. From Harry’s soft moan, Severus gathered that the skin-to-skin contact was having a similar effect on the boy to that which it had on him. “Look at me,” he ordered, and as the tousled head turned to face him, Severus seized those rosebud lips in a passionate kiss.
It was electrifying. Severus felt as though he were some monstrous creation of a gothic scientist, seared into life by the wild, almost preternatural energy of an ill-omened lightning bolt – and the boy beneath him some inexplicably fallen angel he now sullied with his plebeian touch. He felt unworthy to kiss the hem of Harry’s robe, let alone to take his sordid pleasure from the young beauty’s virgin body.
Still, needs must. Mentally shaking his head to clear it from the fog of unwonted (and indeed unwanted) humility, Severus broke the kiss and started nipping at that enticing, creamy throat, whilst one hand crept into the invitingly open trousers. As his hand closed around a very satisfyingly engorged length, Harry moaned once more and all thoughts of unworthiness flew out of Severus’ head with the velocity of a speeding carriage. He stroked once, twice – and then Harry was moaning, “Stop!” Reluctantly, Severus desisted, sending the boy a questioning glance. “Don’t want to come yet,” Harry panted.
Severus smirked. It seemed introducing the boy to the delights of having his cock sucked would have to wait for another day. “How about we take off these trousers, then?” he purred.
Harry grinned again. “I’ll take mine off if you take off yours,” he challenged.
Severus raised an eyebrow. “I think not. I will take off yours, and you may remove mine.” Harry eagerly started to undo Severus’ trousers, Severus responded by tugging down the boy’s clothing and after several minutes of frenzied fumbling they were finally, deliciously naked. At the first touch of their cocks together, Severus thought he was about to suffer a little death – but his iron force of will did not play him false, and after only a moment’s pause to collect himself, he was able to continue. Sliding a hand down, he began to toy with Harry’s balls, then slid a finger down to play at his entrance. “Has anyone ever touched you there, Harry?” he breathed into the boy’s ear.
“N – no.” Harry appeared to be having some difficulty speaking, Severus noted with satisfaction.
He rolled to the side for a moment, reaching into the bedside drawer for a jar of Vaseline that Filch had thoughtfully included in his luggage. Noting his companion’s nervousness as he coated his finger with the viscous stuff, Severus murmured “Relax, Harry,” and kissed him gently before returning his finger to Harry’s anus. “What I am doing is preparing you for intercourse. Your body is quite capable of accommodating me, but it needs to be stretched first. You may find the process quite pleasurable,” he added, crooking his finger inside Harry’s rectum and occasioning another gasp. Smirking in satisfaction, Severus added another finger and as he stretched his lover, resumed kissing him upon the neck and down to those tender pink nipples.
When he judged that Harry was adequately prepared, Severus removed his fingers. “Pull your legs up, and over my arms. That’s right, Harry. Now, try to relax,” he instructed, as he lined himself up and pushed in slowly. After initially resisting, Harry’s body seemed to suck him in, to want to consume him, and Severus had to force himself to go slowly, to allow Harry time to adjust.
Harry was breathing in short, harsh gasps. “Too much?” Severus asked, concerned.
“No – yeah – just, go slow, all right?” Slowly the boy’s expression cleared. “All – all right. You can move now,” he breathed.
Moving with an exquisite slowness he thought would very likely kill him, Severus pushed in until, at last, his balls pressed against Harry’s skin and he could go no further. “Harry,” he gasped, overcome with sensation and a heady feeling of jubilation as the boy seized his head and kissed him sloppily. But his cock was demanding that he move, so cautiously at first and then with rising abandon he began to thrust in and out, varying the angle until Harry cried out and then mercilessly punishing the boy’s prostate. Neither of them would last long at this pace, but he was powerless to slow down, and he hissed out an urgent “Touch yourself!” He was aware of the boy’s hand fisting his own cock, pumping a bare handful of times before that flushed young face went slack and hot spurts of spunk were pulsing between them. Severus could no more have stopped himself coming then than he could have flown and for a moment, he actually blacked out at the intensity of it all.
When he came to, it seemed that it had only been for a second or so, for Harry was still gasping underneath him, looking more beautiful than a foundling brat had any right to do. Regretfully extricating himself, Severus stretched out beside the boy and kissed his shoulder. Harry turned to him, eyes shining. “That was – bloody hell, that was amazing! Is it always like that?”
Severus caressed the boy’s face, his touch feather-light, feeling a strange trepidation mixed with a fierce sense of possession. “I hope it will be,” he told him gently.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning, Harry woke up with a smile on his face – which quickly faded when he recalled that with the case solved, there was no reason for the Chief Inspector to remain in Hogsmeade. He lay there for a moment, studying the harsh profile of the man who slept beside him. He was nothing like Cedric, Harry knew. Older, more jaded – definitely less handsome.
None of which facts lessened the pain in Harry’s heart in the slightest. He’d thought he loved Cedric – but he’d never felt like this about him. Never felt this strange mix of protectiveness, and pride, and admiration – not just of the face and body, but of the man inside. Maybe it was just that Snape – Severus – had been the first to truly make love to him? Shivering slightly at the memory of last night, Harry refused to believe that was it. Perhaps it was just that if it hadn’t been for Snape he’d probably have died horribly in the flames of Phoenix Hall? Harry wished he had Hermione here to tell him the answer – then smiled at the thought of her reaction if she did happen to walk into the room and see him and Snape in bed together. Actually, come to think of it, she’d probably take it a damn sight better than Ron would. Probably, what with all those books she read, she thought seeing two blokes in bed together was completely normal and boring. Harry wondered if he ought to mention this to Ron, and then thought, best not.
He carried on gazing at his lover, trying to commit every idiosyncratic feature to memory for when he was once more alone in his attic room at Mrs Figg’s. Part of him hoped the man would never wake, so they would never have to have the awkward conversation Harry felt sure was in the offing. He had a crazy idea, for a moment, of slipping out of the room, so nothing could spoil the memory of a perfect night. But even as he thought this, Snape stirred, and those dark eyes opened and fixed their heavy gaze upon him.
“Morning,” Harry said, feeling he had to say something. Catlike, Snape stretched.
“Indeed it is a good morning, Harry.” He smiled, looking more content than Harry had ever seen him. “And the first of many more such, I trust.”
Harry blinked. “Um, I’m not sure I follow,” he said uncertainly. “Aren’t you going to have to go back to London, now the case is solved?”
“Naturally. However, I feel it would be remiss of me to return to Scotland Yard without taking with me a young police officer who has shown such sterling promise. I foresee a great career for you in Scotland Yard, Constable Potter.”
“But – can you just do that? Aren’t there procedures that need to be followed, and all that?” Harry tried not to get his hopes up too high, but it was a losing battle.
Snape smiled at him smugly. “Fortunately for us both, Harry, I happen to have the ear of the Chief Superintendent.”
“Really? And you think that’ll be enough?”
“Hm, possibly not. However,” Snape purred, leaning over to nibble at his young lover’s neck and thinking fondly of the incriminating material contained in his safety-deposit box, “I also have him by the bollocks.”
Harry gasped and then squirmed, trying to keep his mind on practicalities, which was particularly hard as the Chief Inspector now had him by the bollocks and was fondling them rather distractingly. “But where will I live? I can’t afford much, you know.”
“Happily for both of us, a room at my lodgings has recently become vacant and I feel sure it might be made available to you at a nominal rent. My manservant, Filch, will no doubt complain about having another mouth to feed, but the extra work will do him good. And I will then, Constable Potter, be in a position to pay particularly close attention to your education,” he breathed in Harry’s ear.
Harry surrendered happily. “Well, I reckon I’ve got a lot to learn. You might want to start right now,” he grinned, pressing himself up against his eager lover.
Snape smirked. “The things I do to safeguard the future of the nation.”
Fin.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Postscript
It was a typical English summer’s day: overcast, with the threat of rain for later and a chilly breeze blowing in off the sea. Sir Albus sat in the lounge of the Grand Hotel, Brighton, stirring his tea thoughtfully. After about five minutes, a tall, genteelly clad lady came and sat down opposite. Blue eyes twinkled at her. “How lovely to see you again, my dear Minerva.”
“Albus, please. It is Margaret these days – or rather, since we have not been introduced, it would be more proper for you to address me as Mrs Grosvenor,” she replied primly.
“Mrs Grosvenor? Is there then a Mr Grosvenor?” Sir Albus asked teasingly, pouring her a cup of tea.
“I am afraid, Sir Albus, that he passed away some years ago,” the lady replied flirtatiously in a gentle Scottish brogue, as she delicately took a sip.
“Dear, dear! I am recently widowed myself, you know,” he twinkled. “Do have some of this shortbread, it’s really quite delicious. So tell me, Mrs Grosvenor, shall you be staying in Brighton long?”
“I really cannot say, Sir Albus. And your own plans?”
“Oh, I’ve decided to move down here. For my health, you know. The sea air is so delightfully bracing and I’ve already spotted an intriguing little residence for sale near Hove. Perhaps you would like to inspect it after lunch? No fountains, I’m afraid, but I’m confident they might be installed at very little cost.” He paused, then asked with a more serious air, “Are you sure, my dear, that we did the right thing? I can understand a mother’s wish to indulge her child, but letting young Tom get away with murder?”
“Of course! After all, Albus, those dreadful Riddles were about to disinherit my dear boy, just because they disapproved of his lifestyle! One can hardly blame him for anticipating nature in this way. I am quite convinced, Albus, that now that this threat to his fortune is gone, he will become an upstanding member of society.”
“Ah! Well, I’m sure you’re right, my dear. Now, let me tell you the news from Hogsmeade. Young Harry has gone to work for Scotland Yard – it appears the Chief Inspector was most impressed with our boy. Of course, we did wonder if we might see them again – in a professional capacity, no less – do you remember young Tom’s butler, Pettigrew? Well, he appears to have met with a most baffling accident…”
Fin.
Note: Sir Albus was inspired to install his trick fountains after paying a visit to the gardens of Schloss Hellbrunn in Salzburg. The actual installation was done by the plumbing firm F&G Weasley, at very reasonable rates.
Author:
drachenminaGiftee:
empathic_sirenWord Count: ~18,800
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter,
Warnings: Character death (not Severus/Harry)
Part 1
Part 2
Part Three
After his somewhat embarrassing departure from Potter’s lodgings, Severus ducked into a public house and ordered a pint to mull over the evidence at his leisure. He was unable to rid himself of the strong conviction of Riddle’s guilt – but was he blinded by jealousy over the young man’s attempt to seduce his Harry? Severus was brought up short by the sudden realisation of the way in which he had thought of his young constable. Was this, then, more than a passing dalliance? Taking a firm grip of his emotions, Severus forced himself to concentrate on the case. The greatest mystery concerned Lady Dumbledore’s prevarication – therefore, he would have to confront her and try to force a confession.
Again, though, he was confronted by the lack of any obvious motivation for her mendacity. He could discern no reason for either her or her husband to wish the Riddles dead. But why, then, would she lie? Whom else would she seek to protect? As he took the first sip from his pint, it came to him in a flash. Blackmail! Yes, that must be it. Riddle, assisted no doubt by that odious excrescence who served him, was blackmailing either Lady Dumbledore or her husband – over what, Severus couldn’t say, but he was willing to wager it had something to do with the mysterious and scandalous first Lady Dumbledore. Perhaps her barmy old husband had murdered her in order to marry the present Lady Dumbledore, and Riddle possessed evidence of this that was damning enough to persuade the lady to assist in covering up Riddles own homicidal endeavours.
Severus took a gulp from his pint glass, savouring the taste of the bitter ale. Yes, that was it. And Lady Dumbledore was the key: if he could induce her to confess that she had been coerced into perjury, Riddle would be his. To that end, he would gather the suspects together and confront them with the evidence. It was not yet four o’clock; there should be ample time to arrange matters for this evening. Severus smiled to himself, ignoring the worried glances other pub-goers sent his way. Yes: tonight was the night. And Harry would be there too.
It was nine o’clock that evening, and the company had assembled as Severus had requested. All of them sat around the drawing room at Phoenix Hall, saving of course Pettigrew who cringed by the door. Riddle had not looked pleased at Severus’ insistence that the butler be included in the party – but then, he would undoubtedly look even less pleased once he had been tricked into a confession of his fiendish crime, Severus thought with satisfaction.
Severus tapped on his brandy glass for silence, and cleared his throat. All eyes were upon him as he commenced his speech. “I have called you all here, as you are no doubt aware, for a most solemn purpose: the unmasking of the Murderer of The Grange!” He smirked inwardly at the frisson of excitement that ran through most of those present at his dramatic opening and raised a sardonic eyebrow at Tom Riddle’s outwardly bored demeanour. He hadn’t been born yesterday.
In clipped tones, Severus enumerated the facts of the case. As they were few, only Sir Albus’ eyes were beginning to glaze over by the time Severus had reached the first point upon which he wished to surprise a confession of the truth: “…and now to the mysterious apparition Lady Dumbledore claims to have witnessed – a claim which my young assistant and I have proven conclusively to be false!” There was a general murmuring, but the lady herself sat straight-backed and silent, waiting for Severus to continue.
“Why, I asked myself, should Lady Dumbledore make a false claim of this nature? Was it merely one of those hysterical imaginings to which the feminine mind is so prone? No, for Lady Dumbledore has shown herself to be a solid, sensible woman, not liable to overheating of the brain. We are faced, then, with the inescapable conclusion that she lied!”
As the company reeled in horror, Lady Dumbledore rose gracefully from her seat. “Indeed, Chief Inspector, you have discovered me. The game, as they say, is up. Yes, Chief Inspector: I lied. And as I am quite sure that your keen intellect has already drawn the only possible conclusion from that, I confess. It was I, Chief Inspector, who murdered the Riddles.”
There was a collective gasp, and Thomas Riddle even took a step back in his surprise at her words. Sir Albus merely twinkled dementedly.
Collecting himself swiftly, and striving to cover his own astonishment – he had been so certain Riddle was the guilty party, and he’d been planning to go on for hours before getting to the point where the malefactor confessed all – Severus was stern. “Might I beg your indulgence, madam, in explaining to us all just why you saw fit to commit such an atrocity?”
“Certainly, Chief Inspector.” The lady inclined her head gracefully. “It will come as some surprise to you all, no doubt – with the exception of dear Albus, who is fully acquainted with my past – that my marriage to him fifteen years ago was not the first occasion on which I was wed. I had been married some years previously – to the late Mr Thomas Riddle, father of our young guest!” She smiled at Riddle, who merely stared at her.
“Madam, continue!” Severus urged on behalf of them all.
“My first marriage, I am afraid to say, was a hasty, ill-judged affair. It took place in Naples, where Mr Riddle had rented a villa following a particularly violent dispute with his father – indeed, they never saw one another again. I was engaged as a companion to a rather disagreeable lady of Mr Riddle’s acquaintance who was travelling through Italy. I was, I may say, quite a beauty in my youth – “
“Still are, Minerva my dear, still are!” Sir Albus broke in gallantly.
The lady inclined her head graciously to her husband and continued. “Wishing only to escape my situation, I found out too late what manner of man I had married – it pains me to tell you this about your father, Tom, but really, he was the worst sort of bore. Finding myself within a few months enceinte, I resolved upon a daring plan: I bribed the midwives who attended my confinement to tell my husband I had died in childbirth, whereupon I slipped away, leaving my son to the care of his father and a wet-nurse.”
Riddle stepped forward. “Then, Lady Dumbledore, you are my mother? But I was told her maiden name was Gaunt.”
Lady Dumbledore fixed him with a pained look. “My dear boy, if you had been so unfortunate as to be christened with the name Merope Gaunt, I am quite sure that you too would have changed it at the earliest opportunity. And in any case, I could hardly live under my own name, without alerting my husband to my continued existence.” She smiled fondly at the somewhat shell-shocked youth. “It has been my great pleasure, Tom, to watch you grow up these last fifteen years.”
Riddle turned to her husband. “Sir Albus, were you aware of this?”
“Oh, indeed, yes, dear boy.” He turned twinkling eyes upon his wife, seemingly unperturbed that she had just confessed to a double murder. “And now, my dear, I think you should tell young Tom about his brother, don’t you?”
All eyes snapped back to Lady Dumbledore, who had coloured slightly. “Indeed, Albus, you are right, as always. I’m afraid I must beg the indulgence of the company present for the loneliness of a young lady, recently escaped from an unhappy marriage, and her lover, still trapped in his own. You see, Tom, you are not my only child – and by happy chance, your brother is here.” The eyes of the company followed her gaze with disbelief as it settled on… Potter? “Harry, my dear. Can you ever forgive your mother?”
Severus wished the dratted boy would shut his mouth – he looked most unattractive with it hanging open like that.
“You’re – you’re my mum? So who’s my dad?”
It was Sir Albus who answered. “Why, I am, of course, dear boy! Naturally, we should have liked to keep you – but unhappily, I was still married to the first Lady Dumbledore at the time of your birth. And in any case, I must confess I’m not getting any younger! Small children can be so dreadfully exhausting, wouldn’t you agree?” He twinkled benignly at his son, and for once Severus couldn’t blame the poor boy for gaping at him gormlessly.
Lady Dumbledore smiled fondly at them both, and then continued. “And now, Chief Inspector – ”
Severus was alarmed. “Madam, before you make any startling assertions about my parentage, I feel I should inform you that my mother is alive and well and running a tea-shop in Harrogate.”
“Ah, dear Eileen. How is she these days? We were at school together, you know. No, Chief Inspector, I have, I am glad to say, no more revelations to make. I simply wished to ask you to allow me a few moments alone to collect myself before you arrest me. I can assure you that if you grant me this indulgence I shall give you no further trouble.”
Severus, despite his misgivings, felt honour-bound to allow the lady to withdraw. Potter, meanwhile, was standing there with a dazed look upon his face. Severus felt the unwelcome stirring of sympathy within his breast. To finally discover his parents – only to learn that one of them would shortly be hanged for murder! Severus found himself almost inclined to curse the conventions of society that prohibited him from offering the boy any comfort. Sir Albus, however, was subject no such restriction and placed a paternal arm around the lad he had so callously abandoned to the trials of the orphanage. Severus would definitely have to have words with him afterwards.
Riddle, meanwhile, was pacing the room, looking remarkably cheerful. Severus snorted. No sign of any family feeling there. Suddenly, there was a loud bang, following which the door burst open and a panicking maidservant screamed “Fire!” Severus, who had half-expected to hear the report of a revolver as the lady took a course of action more commonly known as the gentleman’s way out, was nonplussed by this tale of a conflagration. Perhaps the maid was merely hysterical? He ran through the door to the hall, where he found smoke already billowing down the staircase. “It’s ‘er ladyship’s gas lamp – I always said they was dangerous!” the servant wailed.
Smoke was pouring out from under the door that led to Lady Dumbledore’s boudoir. Severus hesitated – then found himself thrust aside by Potter who flung open the door. Immediately a great wave of heat and flame threw him backwards; undeterred, he pressed a handkerchief to his mouth and hurtled into the burning room. Severus cursed, and picking himself up, ran after him. The idiot was trying to get through the anteroom to the bedchamber beyond, from where the conflagration had spread, and where the lady must be trapped – or most likely, had already burnt to death. But the room was ablaze – even as Severus entered, the curtains fell down from the window, setting the boy’s uniform jacket alight. Grabbing a throw from the sofa, which had as yet miraculously escaped the flames, Severus wrapped the heroic fool in it and wrestled him out of the room.
“No – let me back in there – she’s my mum!” the anguished young man protested.
“Harry, you cannot save her! And for what? Would you rather watch her hang? This was her choice, boy – do you think she would want you to throw your life away on one already forfeit?” Severus’ voice was hoarse from the smoke and from the unexpectedly acute pain he felt at the thought of Harry – his Harry – losing his life in that awful inferno.
“But I’ve got to – “ the young man protested, tears running down his soot-smirched face.
“No, Harry. There is nothing you can do,” Severus told him more softly this time, leading him down the stairs as swiftly, and as gently, as he could.
There had been nothing for it to evacuate Phoenix Hall and watch it burn with all the ferocity of its namesake. Sir Albus had confirmed Severus’ estimate of his senility by remaining remarkably chipper throughout, despite the loss of his wife and home – merely commenting cheerfully that dear Minerva had never really cared for the old pile. Riddle had bid them all a curt goodnight and returned to the Grange with his toadying servant scurrying along in his wake, apparently caring not a jot whether his mother’s widower had anywhere to sleep that night. Severus, who had always disliked the young man, now found himself positively seething that the arrogant young pup had not turned out to be the murderer after all. If there was ever a man Severus would rejoice to see hang, it was Thomas Bloody Riddle.
Harry, still wrapped in the throw Severus had used to save him, seemed dazed and somewhat shocked by it all. It was Sir Albus, in the end, who suggested blithely that they all repair to the King Harry pub, where he was sure his brother would be able to put them up. Severus readily concurred, feeling that whilst he couldn’t care less whether the senile old philanderer (or, for that matter, his servants) had a roof over their heads for the night, he was very definitely in need of a stiff drink.
Once arrived at the hostelry, upon seeing Harry’s pale face grow yet whiter at the sight of all the locals eager for gossip, Severus made a snap decision. “Come, Potter – I’ve a bottle of brandy in my room, and I doubt that being gawped at by these idiots is what you require right now.”
Harry didn’t resist as Severus led him gently up the stairs. Once they were in privacy, it occurred to Severus that he should ensure that the boy had not been hurt when essaying that reckless rescue. “Take off your jacket, Potter – I want to see if you’ve been burned.”
Harry gave a wan smile and complied. “I’m fine, I think – it was just my jacket that caught it.” And indeed, the fabric of his shirt was singed, but not burned. Severus told himself it was unforgivably selfish to be disappointed that the boy need not remove his shirt.
Severus slung his own jacket tiredly upon a chair and poured out two glasses of brandy, his own rather more generous than that he gave to the boy. Joining him sitting upon the bed, he sighed. “I suppose I shall have to get you home after this,” he muttered.
“Um, yeah. I suppose,” shrugged Harry, sounding intriguingly doubtful about the idea. “I don’t have to go right now, though, do I?” he asked, the hopeful note in his voice sending a thrill down Severus’ spine.
Again, Severus was forced to speak sternly to himself. To take advantage of a boy who had just lost his mother would be utterly reprehensible! Of course, a treacherous little voice seemed to whisper from the vicinity of his cock, they were hardly close – she abandoned him, after all.
“You know, it’s funny,” Harry began, “but I feel I should, well, feel more. I mean, she was my mum. But she killed two people and she dumped me in an orphanage – I mean, when we were back in Phoenix Hall, all I could think of was that I had to save her – but I s’pose you’re right, it wouldn’t really have done her any good.”
“I must commend you upon your mature attitude to these unfortunate events, Harry. This evening must have been quite a shock for you,” Severus commiserated, feeling hope beginning to blossom in his breast. And in places lower down, as well.
Harry grimaced. “Yeah. I mean – Thomas Riddle’s my brother? He snogged me!” He shuddered. “Still, I’m glad Sir Albus is my dad. He’s always been really nice to me, you know.”
Severus was quite certain he would not personally consider abandoning a baby to be brought up by total strangers as being really nice, but he forbore to comment. Harry had been through quite enough for one night. “Another drink?” he asked solicitously, topping up his own glass.
“Um, better not. I mean, I’ve got to get back across town to Mrs Figg’s, haven’t I?“
Severus almost purred at the questioning tone in the boy’s voice. “Perhaps, Harry, it might be better if you stayed here. After all, I should not wish anything untoward to happen to you.” Unless of course I’m the one making it happen, he appended silently.
Harry grinned and shuffled a little closer to Severus on the bed which, Severus was thankful to note, was of far sturdier construction than the one in Harry’s grim little garret. “Well, if you’re sure I won’t be in the way?”
Severus responded by snaking an arm around the boy’s slender waist, feeling the warmth of his body through the rough uniform shirt which he hoped to be removing in the very near future. “Hm, I think I may possibly be able to make room for you. I believe, by the way, it is time we got rid of those spectacles.” As he spoke, Severus suited the action to the words, and then leant in to kiss the boy softly on the lips. His kiss was returned with gratifying fervour and Severus gently but firmly pushed the boy down until he was lying on top of him. Finally, he was where he wanted to be! Harry’s kisses grew hungrier, and he pressed his hips up to grind a satisfyingly hard cock into Severus’ groin. Severus ground back, unable to suppress a moan, and he started to tug Harry’s shirt out of his trousers, aching to get at the bare skin underneath. It proved frustratingly difficult, so he rolled to one side to unbuckle Harry’s belt. Darkening green eyes watched him from beneath heavy lids, and Harry’s breath grew faster. At last those damnable trousers were unfastened, and Severus pushed up the boy’s shirt, revealing a flat belly with soft, dark hair forming an enticing trail downwards from his navel. As Severus feasted his eyes upon the delectable sight, Harry drew back a little, looking slightly uncertain. “Um, I haven’t actually done a lot of this sort of thing, you know,” he mumbled a little shamefacedly.
Severus’ heart sang. “All the better, Harry,” he growled.
“Really?” the boy persisted, with touching naïveté. “You’re not disappointed?”
Severus smirked. “Disappointed? I hardly think so. I have no wish to picture you in the arms of another man, Harry. But tell me, what is the extent of your experience?” Severus held his breath, hoping he wasn’t about to hear more than he wanted to.
“Um, just kissing and touching,” Harry admitted. “And that was only with Ce- one bloke.”
It was sweet music to Severus’ ears. “We shall be doing much more than that tonight, I can promise you,” he purred.
Whilst he was pleased to see a touch of maidenly trepidation flicker through the boy’s eyes, Severus was, in fact, in a bit of a quandary. What he wanted to do was to fuck the boy through the mattress – but he was quite aware that for the novice fuckee, there could be a not inconsiderable amount of pain involved in the process, and he was loath to do anything to scare Harry off now he had finally got him into his bed. “Do you trust me?” he asked, gazing into the boy’s eyes.
“Should I?” Harry retorted boldly.
Severus smiled. “With an attitude like that, Harry, I can see you’ll go far at Scotland Yard. I won’t lie to you; what I wish to do to you is likely to involve some discomfort at first. However, it is my firm belief that you will not regret having had the courage to go through with it.”
It was as he had hoped: any appeal to Harry’s bravery had his chin (and other things) pointing firmly skywards. “I’m not scared,” Harry announced resolutely, only the faint bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed giving the lie to his words.
“Excellent,” Severus purred. “Now, why don’t we get you a little more comfortable?” As he spoke, one hand snaked up to Harry’s shirt buttons, which he deftly unfastened, baring those fresh young nipples that had so delighted Severus before Mrs Figg’s untimely interruption. Damn, he’d missed those. He kissed them fondly, then added a gentle bite that had Harry writhing and gasping.
“Mm-mmm,” Harry murmured dazedly. “Y’know, I think we ought to get you more comfortable too, Chief Inspector. ‘S only proper.”
“Indeed, Harry?” Severus arched an eyebrow. “Then as my assistant, it is your duty to assist me.” Harry’s lazy grin did strange things to Severus’ insides as the boy obediently started to unbutton his superior’s shirt. Once he had opened it, Severus could wait no longer and tore it off entirely, pressing his naked chest to the boy’s soft skin. From Harry’s soft moan, Severus gathered that the skin-to-skin contact was having a similar effect on the boy to that which it had on him. “Look at me,” he ordered, and as the tousled head turned to face him, Severus seized those rosebud lips in a passionate kiss.
It was electrifying. Severus felt as though he were some monstrous creation of a gothic scientist, seared into life by the wild, almost preternatural energy of an ill-omened lightning bolt – and the boy beneath him some inexplicably fallen angel he now sullied with his plebeian touch. He felt unworthy to kiss the hem of Harry’s robe, let alone to take his sordid pleasure from the young beauty’s virgin body.
Still, needs must. Mentally shaking his head to clear it from the fog of unwonted (and indeed unwanted) humility, Severus broke the kiss and started nipping at that enticing, creamy throat, whilst one hand crept into the invitingly open trousers. As his hand closed around a very satisfyingly engorged length, Harry moaned once more and all thoughts of unworthiness flew out of Severus’ head with the velocity of a speeding carriage. He stroked once, twice – and then Harry was moaning, “Stop!” Reluctantly, Severus desisted, sending the boy a questioning glance. “Don’t want to come yet,” Harry panted.
Severus smirked. It seemed introducing the boy to the delights of having his cock sucked would have to wait for another day. “How about we take off these trousers, then?” he purred.
Harry grinned again. “I’ll take mine off if you take off yours,” he challenged.
Severus raised an eyebrow. “I think not. I will take off yours, and you may remove mine.” Harry eagerly started to undo Severus’ trousers, Severus responded by tugging down the boy’s clothing and after several minutes of frenzied fumbling they were finally, deliciously naked. At the first touch of their cocks together, Severus thought he was about to suffer a little death – but his iron force of will did not play him false, and after only a moment’s pause to collect himself, he was able to continue. Sliding a hand down, he began to toy with Harry’s balls, then slid a finger down to play at his entrance. “Has anyone ever touched you there, Harry?” he breathed into the boy’s ear.
“N – no.” Harry appeared to be having some difficulty speaking, Severus noted with satisfaction.
He rolled to the side for a moment, reaching into the bedside drawer for a jar of Vaseline that Filch had thoughtfully included in his luggage. Noting his companion’s nervousness as he coated his finger with the viscous stuff, Severus murmured “Relax, Harry,” and kissed him gently before returning his finger to Harry’s anus. “What I am doing is preparing you for intercourse. Your body is quite capable of accommodating me, but it needs to be stretched first. You may find the process quite pleasurable,” he added, crooking his finger inside Harry’s rectum and occasioning another gasp. Smirking in satisfaction, Severus added another finger and as he stretched his lover, resumed kissing him upon the neck and down to those tender pink nipples.
When he judged that Harry was adequately prepared, Severus removed his fingers. “Pull your legs up, and over my arms. That’s right, Harry. Now, try to relax,” he instructed, as he lined himself up and pushed in slowly. After initially resisting, Harry’s body seemed to suck him in, to want to consume him, and Severus had to force himself to go slowly, to allow Harry time to adjust.
Harry was breathing in short, harsh gasps. “Too much?” Severus asked, concerned.
“No – yeah – just, go slow, all right?” Slowly the boy’s expression cleared. “All – all right. You can move now,” he breathed.
Moving with an exquisite slowness he thought would very likely kill him, Severus pushed in until, at last, his balls pressed against Harry’s skin and he could go no further. “Harry,” he gasped, overcome with sensation and a heady feeling of jubilation as the boy seized his head and kissed him sloppily. But his cock was demanding that he move, so cautiously at first and then with rising abandon he began to thrust in and out, varying the angle until Harry cried out and then mercilessly punishing the boy’s prostate. Neither of them would last long at this pace, but he was powerless to slow down, and he hissed out an urgent “Touch yourself!” He was aware of the boy’s hand fisting his own cock, pumping a bare handful of times before that flushed young face went slack and hot spurts of spunk were pulsing between them. Severus could no more have stopped himself coming then than he could have flown and for a moment, he actually blacked out at the intensity of it all.
When he came to, it seemed that it had only been for a second or so, for Harry was still gasping underneath him, looking more beautiful than a foundling brat had any right to do. Regretfully extricating himself, Severus stretched out beside the boy and kissed his shoulder. Harry turned to him, eyes shining. “That was – bloody hell, that was amazing! Is it always like that?”
Severus caressed the boy’s face, his touch feather-light, feeling a strange trepidation mixed with a fierce sense of possession. “I hope it will be,” he told him gently.
The next morning, Harry woke up with a smile on his face – which quickly faded when he recalled that with the case solved, there was no reason for the Chief Inspector to remain in Hogsmeade. He lay there for a moment, studying the harsh profile of the man who slept beside him. He was nothing like Cedric, Harry knew. Older, more jaded – definitely less handsome.
None of which facts lessened the pain in Harry’s heart in the slightest. He’d thought he loved Cedric – but he’d never felt like this about him. Never felt this strange mix of protectiveness, and pride, and admiration – not just of the face and body, but of the man inside. Maybe it was just that Snape – Severus – had been the first to truly make love to him? Shivering slightly at the memory of last night, Harry refused to believe that was it. Perhaps it was just that if it hadn’t been for Snape he’d probably have died horribly in the flames of Phoenix Hall? Harry wished he had Hermione here to tell him the answer – then smiled at the thought of her reaction if she did happen to walk into the room and see him and Snape in bed together. Actually, come to think of it, she’d probably take it a damn sight better than Ron would. Probably, what with all those books she read, she thought seeing two blokes in bed together was completely normal and boring. Harry wondered if he ought to mention this to Ron, and then thought, best not.
He carried on gazing at his lover, trying to commit every idiosyncratic feature to memory for when he was once more alone in his attic room at Mrs Figg’s. Part of him hoped the man would never wake, so they would never have to have the awkward conversation Harry felt sure was in the offing. He had a crazy idea, for a moment, of slipping out of the room, so nothing could spoil the memory of a perfect night. But even as he thought this, Snape stirred, and those dark eyes opened and fixed their heavy gaze upon him.
“Morning,” Harry said, feeling he had to say something. Catlike, Snape stretched.
“Indeed it is a good morning, Harry.” He smiled, looking more content than Harry had ever seen him. “And the first of many more such, I trust.”
Harry blinked. “Um, I’m not sure I follow,” he said uncertainly. “Aren’t you going to have to go back to London, now the case is solved?”
“Naturally. However, I feel it would be remiss of me to return to Scotland Yard without taking with me a young police officer who has shown such sterling promise. I foresee a great career for you in Scotland Yard, Constable Potter.”
“But – can you just do that? Aren’t there procedures that need to be followed, and all that?” Harry tried not to get his hopes up too high, but it was a losing battle.
Snape smiled at him smugly. “Fortunately for us both, Harry, I happen to have the ear of the Chief Superintendent.”
“Really? And you think that’ll be enough?”
“Hm, possibly not. However,” Snape purred, leaning over to nibble at his young lover’s neck and thinking fondly of the incriminating material contained in his safety-deposit box, “I also have him by the bollocks.”
Harry gasped and then squirmed, trying to keep his mind on practicalities, which was particularly hard as the Chief Inspector now had him by the bollocks and was fondling them rather distractingly. “But where will I live? I can’t afford much, you know.”
“Happily for both of us, a room at my lodgings has recently become vacant and I feel sure it might be made available to you at a nominal rent. My manservant, Filch, will no doubt complain about having another mouth to feed, but the extra work will do him good. And I will then, Constable Potter, be in a position to pay particularly close attention to your education,” he breathed in Harry’s ear.
Harry surrendered happily. “Well, I reckon I’ve got a lot to learn. You might want to start right now,” he grinned, pressing himself up against his eager lover.
Snape smirked. “The things I do to safeguard the future of the nation.”
Fin.
Postscript
It was a typical English summer’s day: overcast, with the threat of rain for later and a chilly breeze blowing in off the sea. Sir Albus sat in the lounge of the Grand Hotel, Brighton, stirring his tea thoughtfully. After about five minutes, a tall, genteelly clad lady came and sat down opposite. Blue eyes twinkled at her. “How lovely to see you again, my dear Minerva.”
“Albus, please. It is Margaret these days – or rather, since we have not been introduced, it would be more proper for you to address me as Mrs Grosvenor,” she replied primly.
“Mrs Grosvenor? Is there then a Mr Grosvenor?” Sir Albus asked teasingly, pouring her a cup of tea.
“I am afraid, Sir Albus, that he passed away some years ago,” the lady replied flirtatiously in a gentle Scottish brogue, as she delicately took a sip.
“Dear, dear! I am recently widowed myself, you know,” he twinkled. “Do have some of this shortbread, it’s really quite delicious. So tell me, Mrs Grosvenor, shall you be staying in Brighton long?”
“I really cannot say, Sir Albus. And your own plans?”
“Oh, I’ve decided to move down here. For my health, you know. The sea air is so delightfully bracing and I’ve already spotted an intriguing little residence for sale near Hove. Perhaps you would like to inspect it after lunch? No fountains, I’m afraid, but I’m confident they might be installed at very little cost.” He paused, then asked with a more serious air, “Are you sure, my dear, that we did the right thing? I can understand a mother’s wish to indulge her child, but letting young Tom get away with murder?”
“Of course! After all, Albus, those dreadful Riddles were about to disinherit my dear boy, just because they disapproved of his lifestyle! One can hardly blame him for anticipating nature in this way. I am quite convinced, Albus, that now that this threat to his fortune is gone, he will become an upstanding member of society.”
“Ah! Well, I’m sure you’re right, my dear. Now, let me tell you the news from Hogsmeade. Young Harry has gone to work for Scotland Yard – it appears the Chief Inspector was most impressed with our boy. Of course, we did wonder if we might see them again – in a professional capacity, no less – do you remember young Tom’s butler, Pettigrew? Well, he appears to have met with a most baffling accident…”
Fin.
Note: Sir Albus was inspired to install his trick fountains after paying a visit to the gardens of Schloss Hellbrunn in Salzburg. The actual installation was done by the plumbing firm F&G Weasley, at very reasonable rates.
