Part Twenty-Seven of 'Their Phoenix'

[lomonaaeren]

Title: Their Phoenix (27/?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this for fun and not profit.
Pairings: Threesome, Snape/Harry/Draco. (Harry and Draco do develop their own sexual relationship within the threesome). Some Harry/Ginny and Snape/Draco near the beginning of the story.
Rating: NC-17.
Warnings: Magical bonding, slash sex, violence, profanity, massive denial. Springing-from-DH AU; it starts deviating from the moment Voldemort confronts Snape in the Shrieking Shack.
Summary: AU. Voldemort has learned who the true master of the Elder Wand is, and he plans to kill Draco along with Snape. Harry is desperate to save them, because Dumbledore would have wanted him to. But with wild magic, Horcruxes, and Dark Marks all involved, Harry may have condemned all three of them to something worse than death.
Author’s Notes: This is One of Those Bonding Fics. It’s also One of Those Threesome Fics, and also One of Those Fics With Harry-in-Denial. If that sounds like what you’re looking for, then come right in. I’m sorry to say that I have absolutely no idea how long this will be, and it will also be irregularly updated, whenever I finish a major “part.”

Part One.

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Severus had had so few warm, lazy mornings to enjoy in his life that he took his time waking up to enjoy this one.

Perhaps the rest of his life would not be barren of mornings like slices of the rich golden cake he remembered once tasting as a child, filled with a creamy substance that Severus could not name but which stayed in his mind as the epitome of sweetness, thicker than honey, richer than wine. But he did not know that.

So he opened his eyes slowly, and gazed at the sight in front of him. That turned out to be a pale shoulder, with a slightly darker one just beyond it. The pale shoulder was Draco’s, the darker one Harry’s, and they had pale and dark hair lapping over their shoulders to complement their skin. Severus lay there enjoying the contrast of colors for long moments before he moved his head and glanced at his own hand.

It rested on Harry’s back, but his arm stretched across Draco’s, so that he might feel both of their skins at the same time. Severus remembered arranging it that way last night; he had not known that his arm would remain in the same position when he woke. Now he absorbed all he could of smooth, slightly sweaty skin through his fingertips before he turned his head and moved on.

When he pushed his nose slightly forwards, he could smell his bondmates. Normally, the scent of unwashed human skin was not his favorite—there were Potions ingredients that smelled much better—but at the moment, he could think of no sweeter perfume. That scent had been earned in pleasing him and each other. Severus lay there until he had drawn the last particle of meaning he could think of from the smell.

He shifted his head on the pillow—not nearly enough to awaken them—and studied their faces. Draco slept with his eyelashes fluttering slightly, though Severus did not think his breath hard enough to reach them. He looked less young and relaxed than he had only a few months ago, which told Severus that sleeping faces did not always tell the truth. Draco had more reason for relaxation after last night’s activities than he had had in all those months.

Nevertheless, it was his bondmate’s face and therefore special to him, so he spent some minutes looking at it before he turned to Harry.

Harry slept as hard as he did everything else, his eyes squinted shut and his lower lip caught between his teeth. A line stabbed down the middle of his forehead as if to make up for the lack of a scar there. Severus’s hand twitched, but he did not think he could reach Harry’s face and smooth away that line without waking him, and this chance to watch him asleep was too rare for that.

Hopefully only the first of many chances, Severus thought, but even now, he could not allow himself to take that for granted. He watched instead.

Harry stirred too soon, as if he felt the pressure of eyes on him. After his long experience with celebrity, Severus would not be surprised if he had some sensitivity. He blinked his eyes open and stared at the pillow fuzzily for a long moment, as if he were trying to understand why it was larger than his own. Then he remembered with a visible jolt that also sent red ripples down the bond and turned over.

Severus smiled at him, and watched in fascination as Harry’s face changed. He had never been this close so early in the morning, and Harry had never been without the glasses that sometimes masked his eyes and hid some of his emotions. Embarrassment flushed his cheeks red. Then he went a bit pale as he seemed to remember how he had fallen asleep last night immediately after his climax. Then he glared at Severus as if daring him to remark on that, and when Severus simply looked back and said nothing that would humiliate Harry, he scratched his head and sat up, being careful not to shift Draco. That sign of unconscious consideration touched Severus more than some of Harry’s carefully considered compliments.

Harry felt it, but didn’t seem to understand, since he blinked at Severus for a long moment before he whispered, “I don’t remember climbing into this bed last night.”

“You are right,” Severus said, keeping his fear that Harry would balk at sharing a bed—so simple a thing after what they had done already—out of his voice, and as much as possible out of the bond. “Draco and I carried you here.”

Harry shivered, and bit his lip. Then he said, “As long as you aren’t going to make any jokes about stamina.”

“Why would we do that, when you were the one who lasted longer than either of us without coming, and it took two of us to make you?” Draco’s voice was slurred with sleep, but there was nothing uncomprehending about his face as he turned and smiled up at Harry. He reached up a hand and ran it with casual possessiveness from Harry’s ear down his neck. “If anyone has to worry about stamina, it’s us, Harry.”

Harry’s eyelids fluttered, as if he were struggling to process a compliment from Draco. Then he clasped Draco’s hand and chuckled. “It’s pleasant to hear you say so.”

Draco exchanged a soft smile with Severus before he sat up and gave Harry a long, slow, leisurely kiss. Harry kissed back, after a small noise and a gesture of reaching out to include Severus. Severus rose on his knees, embraced Draco around the waist, and bent down so that he could join the kiss from the side, as Draco had once joined his and Harry’s.

Draco’s hand was wandering, and Severus felt the splash of surprise through the bond when his fingers curled around and stroked Harry’s cock. Harry moaned a moment later, and Severus discovered how quickly a simple sound could make him hard.

“I got to suck you last night,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear as he pressed him back onto the bed, “but I didn’t get to do this.”

Harry smiled up at Draco, then twisted to the side and rolled so that he was the one kneeling over Draco. As Draco blinked up at him, Harry reached out and closed his hand around Severus’s erection. Severus nodded at Harry and grasped Draco’s cock.

Draco closed his eyes and indulged in a few thrusts before he said, “There’s no taking you by surprise or confusing you once you make up your mind, is there?”

“That hasn’t always been a good thing,” Harry muttered, shadows flickering across his face.

Severus kissed him, pushing his tongue in to touch Harry’s cheeks the moment his lips opened, and the bond pulsed with smooth waves of happiness. Harry obviously decided that bad memories could wait—they would always be there, after all—and began to slide his hand back and forth in a way that fulfilled several of Severus’s fantasies from the blended dreams at once. As he thrust forwards, however, he did not forget to stroke Draco, and Draco had never let up on Harry, sealing the link. Emotions and sensations flooded Severus from three directions and tore him away from his anchorage in his own body, setting him loose on a sea of brilliance and color.

He did not fear. He knew that, if for some reason he could not find his way back to his body, his bondmates would bring him back.

Among the things his life had not held enough of until now and which he intended to enjoy to the fullest was trust.

*

“What happened?”

Draco looked at the floor and smiled. For once, his mother seemed incapable of understanding the expression on his face, and that was a novel experience.

“You told me that you could understand my every look and gesture, Mother,” he murmured, lifting a delicate sandwich to his mouth. Narcissa would not tell him exactly what ingredients went into the green paste that fastened the sandwiches shut; Draco suspected that she didn’t know herself, since the house-elves prepared it. But that did not matter, as it was delicious. “Have you suddenly lost your ability to interpret them? Certainly you should know.” He turned towards her and blinked.

Narcissa studied him across the broad table, her eyes narrowed. Then she turned away and deliberately took another bite of her sandwich. “I have not seen you recently enough to come to a conclusion,” she said.

Draco had to swallow a laugh. She had seen him three days ago when they had the private birthday dinner. But perhaps it wasn’t kind to make fun of her confusion, however fun it was to watch.

“Very well,” he said, and ate another sandwich. They were small enough to fit cradled into the palm of his hand, but his parents had taught him how to make them last ten bites. Draco managed it and smiled at his mother. “I see that I shall have to visit you often, so that you can study my face and come up with theories about what my expressions mean.”

Narcissa’s hand tightened on her fork for a moment, and then she forced her fingers wide. “I look forwards to your visits, my son,” she said. “Always.”

She ate a sandwich with eleven bites. Draco made sure to eat his next one with twelve, and to watch his mother’s eyes narrow as she tried to figure out what, if anything, that meant.

*

“Something happened.”

Harry hid a groan. He still hadn’t discussed with Draco and Severus whether they wanted him to reveal the change in their relationship to Ron and Hermione, and he was reluctant to do it without their approval.

Still, from the way Hermione was staring at him as they sat in the garden of the Burrow under an Impervious Charm to shield them from the persistent rain, Harry knew he wouldn’t get anything done until he told her something that satisfied her.

“Yes, something did,” he said. “And I don’t particularly want to tell you what it is right now. It involves secrets that aren’t mine.” He reached for the folder that she had under her hand, but Hermione moved it further away.

“Is it painful for you?”

“Painful to try and explain,” Harry said, with a pointed look.

Hermione frowned. “Are you unhappy?”

“No,” Harry said. “I’m really not.” He relaxed and let as much of the happiness as he could show her come through in a smile. “I promise. Severus sand Draco would do something about it immediately if I was unhappy, considering how protective they are of me. And I wouldn’t be able to hide it so well.

He watched Hermione hesitate, caught between her burning desire to know every secret in her immediate presence and the apparent fact that he couldn’t lie to her if he was really unhappy. Finally, she nodded slowly and opened the folder. “I can accept that,” she said. “And someday you’ll tell me, won’t you?”

Harry nodded, meaning that he would tell her about the relationship with Draco and Severus. He didn’t think he could ever explain the burning golden fluid that seemed to soak every joint in his body and ease his movements to anyone outside the bond.

Or how it made him happy simply to look at Draco and Severus’s faces and trace the progress of thoughts across their features and eyes.

Or how the faces of distrusted enemies had become the faces of people he trusted more than anyone else.

Or how it felt to have sex with two other people.

He coughed, because the last thought was making his body respond and Hermione would notice that, and then leaned forwards so that he could get a look at the folder Hermione held. “Did you find the proof of Colben’s parents’ marriage?”

Hermione nodded. “It was on record with the French Ministry, the way that Kingsley said it was.” She sighed. “I wish we could trust him to speak the truth all the time, but I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”

Harry shook his head. “He’s changed his mind too many times now, and he still won’t tell me of these political dangers that he seems to face from Huxley, which lessens my ability to help him. I—”

“Sorry I’m late,” Ron said, shooting out the door and into the chair beside Hermione, where he kissed her cheek. “Mum wouldn’t let me out of the house until my room was sufficiently clean for her.” He shuddered. “It’s going to be bloody brilliant having a house of our own where no one worries about that kind of thing.”

“Maybe Hermione will,” Harry said lightly, to warn Ron as well as he could of the storm he saw gathering in Hermione’s eyes.

Ron smiled and turned to his girlfriend, then dropped the smile and said, “Well, anyway, cleaning rooms that belong to us will be different.” Then he refocused on Harry and stared. Harry braced himself for some comments like Hermione’s about how something had obviously happened.

Instead, Ron laughed and clapped Harry on the back. “You had sex, didn’t you?” he asked.

Harry stared at him. When Hermione hadn’t proven astute enough to guess the obvious source of his happiness, he had been sure that Ron would be blind.

“Oh, of course,” Hermione said, in a tone of voice that indicated she wished Harry’s big secret had been something else. “So, when do we get to meet your boyfriend, Harry? Or girlfriend,” she added conscientiously. She seemed better than Ron at keeping in mind that Harry might not be exclusively gay even though he’d dated a man.

“Um,” said Harry. “Well.” Nothing for it now, or he would be lying to his best friends, and he didn’t need to cope with resentment from them. He hoped that Draco and Severus would like this better than encouraging his friends to believe lies about an imaginary lover. “You’ve met them already.”

Ron’s face froze. Hermione’s jaw dropped open. Then they both sat still for so long that Harry waved his hand in front of their faces, because it was rather like sitting with a pair of statues.

“Snape and Malfoy?” Ron whispered.

“It finally happened between you, then?” Hermione couldn’t get her voice above a whisper, either, though her tone was considerably less complicated than Ron’s.

“Um,” Harry said helplessly.

Hermione flung her arms around him. “I knew that someday you would see the bond was meant to act this way and that threesome relationships are normal and happen in ordinary life!” she exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you, Harry.” She rocked him back and forth, smoothing her hands up and down his back as if he thought that he might run away if she didn’t keep touching him.

Harry accepted that simple embrace for a little while, mostly because he was dreading facing Ron. When he thought that he couldn’t put it off any longer, he took a deep breath and turned to look at him.

Ron was shaking his head back and forth, but as if he couldn’t really understand what had happened, not as if he was angry. He looked at Harry, and then down at his arms, though Harry’s sleeves mostly hid the phoenixes there. Then he looked over Harry’s shoulder, as if he expected to see Severus and Draco stepping out of the woodwork. Then he scratched his head and stared at the ground.

“Ron?” Harry breathed when Hermione sat back and beamed at him some more. His tone caught her attention, and she glanced from him to her boyfriend. Then she caught her breath and frowned. At least she didn’t try to interfere, which Harry was deeply grateful for. He didn’t think Ron would want to feel pressured into accepting Harry’s bondmates.

There was a silence that grew more and more tense, until Harry had wild visions of standing and running out of the garden just so that the moment would end. Then Ron took a deep breath and started everything moving again. His hand shot out and clasped Harry’s, and his smile was a little sad and a little wondering and far more accepting than Harry had expected.

“It’s still your life, mate,” he whispered. “No matter how much I might wish that you’d chosen someone else, I can’t make you do it, and I think you’d be miserable if you had.” He hesitated, then added, “I have heard people say that bonds are so intense that people are never happy if they try to form relationships that are just as intense outside them. Lovers and friends and so on have to accept that they’ll always be less important than bondmates. That’s just the way it is.”

Harry gave him a small smile. “I did think I could have an easy relationship with Cadell at first,” he said. “But—”

Ron laughed at that, the sound free and ringing. Hermione collapsed back in her chair as if she had gone boneless. Harry knew the feeling. If Ron had opposed this, it would have been so much harder.

“Mate,” Ron said through his chuckles, “you don’t do easy.” He squeezed Harry’s hand harder. “I hope that you’re happy. And that’s all that I can say about it, because trying to think about what you do in bed with them…” He shuddered and his face turned green.

“I don’t want to think about you and what you do, either,” Harry retorted, and then had to practically kneel on the ground to avoid the hex from Hermione.

*

Severus thought this the most peaceful afternoon he had ever known.

Harry, who had not slept well last night for reasons probably related to shyness and nervousness—as most of his reasons were—was taking a nap in their bedroom, and the flickers of his dreams were hardly able to disturb Severus.

Their bedroom.

Severus whispered the words under his breath and rolled them around in his mouth, rejoicing in a taste much like that of fine wine. If he did not want to speak them aloud, that was a tribute to his dignity rather than to any foolish fantasy that the good fortune could not possibly belong to him, Severus Snape.

Surely.

Draco was in the lab, working on a potion from a book so ancient Severus himself would not have worked with it unless he could find confirmation of the recipes in a more modern text. He had examined the book carefully, however, and discovered no use or ingredients listed in it that would do harm to a student of Draco’s advanced knowledge. Perhaps this would go some way towards helping him discover his specialties and where his skill lay. Draco liked to think he was talented at “Potions,” but he did not yet know enough to know whether it was healing potions, disguise potions, love potions, or something else that would call to him and flow away from his hands almost without effort.

His thoughts as he attempted to discover that made for very pleasant company, flowing and brushing past Severus’s own thoughts like oil.

He himself sat with a book in the library, for once not a book about potions or magical bonds, but about one of his minor interests, the causes of the historical separation between Muggles and wizards. Of course there were dozens of official reasons for the Statute of Secrecy, but Severus had long since discovered that the only thing worth less than one of the Ministry’s official stories was the person who took them seriously.

It was a glorious June day, and he glanced up frequently from his book to admire it. He and Draco had planted the garden with Potions ingredients, mostly, but he, being a man of refined tastes, could find the shimmer of sunlight on thick green leaves as beautiful as the sunlight on blossoms.

He had bondmates. He had lovers.

His life was replete.

And so of course it was at that moment that he felt someone halting outside the wards and waiting for permission to pass them.

Severus sighed and cast a small detection spell, combined with a mirror spell, that would bounce his sight off the interior defenses and to the outer limit of the garden wall, letting him see without being seen. He waited a moment so that he could get used to the disorienting ricochet that he usually experienced, lights shooting past him as what he saw in front of him rapidly altered, and then peered ahead.

Estella Colben stood there, her gaze fastened on the house and a faint frown on her face. Severus looked for chaperones or hangers-on, including Swanfair, but there was no one else with her.

It was curiosity more than anything else that made Severus drop the wards and let her in. She had seemed as sincere as a political pawn could be when he had used Legilimency on her. And he had not expected her to seek them out. The unexpected could be the interesting, at least now that he had a secure place to rest and a secure footing to stand on.

He reached out through the bonds, and hesitated as Harry’s dreams continued. He was reluctant to awaken him if he did not need to. The wards that would have told him if someone approached with hostile intent had not gone off. He did not think Colben magically powerful enough to fool them. That left honesty, of a sort.

He did warn Draco of who had come, and Draco hesitated. Did you want me to come out and be with you when you confront her?

No, Severus decided, rising to his feet and lowering the wards in the same motion. He opened the door and motioned to Colben, who lifted her head and came walking up the path, robes in motion around her. She had still not smiled that Severus had seen. Perhaps she did not in public moments. Stand ready in case I need you. But I wish to see how she reacts to me alone, when I am the one who must most strongly remind her of the Death Eater connection in her family.

Draco murmured assent; most of his mind had already vanished back into the problem of the potion. Severus restrained his headshake as he bowed to Colben. He did not want her to interpret any gesture of his as a rejection, at least until he had decided if he wished to reject her.

“Greetings, Severus Snape.” Colben’s voice was deeper than he remembered, but perhaps that was because she did not need to perform for a crowd and sound totally unaffected and natural at the moment. She stared into his face and held onto his hand as though she had forgotten she had it. Severus had the impression that was the truth, but still he freed himself as quickly as possible, because there was always the possibility of poison smeared on the fingernails and absorbed through the skin.

“Greetings, Estella Colben,” Severus said, deciding that he needed to be equally formal. “What brings you here?”

“The discovery of something that might have caused your trust in me to waver.” Colben’s nostrils flared then, but it was her only visible sign of anger. “Might we go in and sit?”

“Certainly.” Severus cast a net of wards to surround her, the same kind that he bound Swanfair with whenever she came into the house. They would protect her from flying hexes should one of them lose their temper—or, more likely, should Harry or Draco lose their tempers—but they would also prevent her from harming them directly with magic.

Colben stiffened when she saw the flourishes of his wand. Then her eyes narrowed, and she followed his motions with eager attention for a moment. When she understood what they were, and Severus had no doubt she did, she gave him another direct stare and, this time, a contemptuous smile.

Severus cocked an eyebrow at her and said, “You can understand my desire to take precautions.”

“Of course.” Colben sat down on the chair he indicated to her, gathering her robes around her in a way that would allow her to rise quickly. Severus approved of that, and the fact that he could not locate her wand in a quick scan of her body, at least in the abstract. If she was to become a foe for them, it would be rather more worrying. “Were I you and distrustful of myself, I would no doubt do the same thing.” She folded her hands and stared at him again.

“You have not yet stated your business openly.” Severus took his former chair, and wrapped the book in a similar small net of wards. That made Colben’s face lose some of its suspicions, which was the purpose of the gesture. Severus regarded her evenly. “I find that disturbing.”

“I lack the right words for diplomacy,” Colben said. Severus knew that was a lie, having seen her speak and give the crowd exactly what they wanted, but it was a good thing to know that she was not above deception. Her seriousness, unlike the wit that most pure-bloods displayed (or imagined they were displaying), meant that he had been in danger of esteeming her too honest. “So I will simply say it. Hermione Granger requested the record of my parents’ marriage from the French Ministry. This says that there is mistrust connected to my words.”

Severus hissed under his breath in irritation, so that Colben would see nothing but the slight bend inwards of his cheeks. Stubborn, impulsive girl! He had been sure that Harry would check Granger, and be able to argue that it wouldn’t advance their cause to make their candidate angry with them. But either he could not, or he had not wanted to try.

Or he knew that there would be more trouble and fuss if he tried than the matter was worth, Draco said unexpectedly into his head. You’re too hard on him, you know, when you start blaming him for the sins of his friends. Blame him for his own sins. God knows they’re common enough. He still thinks that he’ll disappoint us if he becomes our lover in all possible ways, did you know that?

Severus took a short breath. This was the overwhelming side of the bonds, when Draco or Harry filled his head with energy and fifteen different bounding thoughts, and he had to sort among them and select the most important. Luckily, in this case that was not difficult, given that the bond would endure far longer than any transient disappointment in or argument with Colben.

Perhaps you are right, and I should not be so hard on him, he said. And I had not sensed that particular thought from Harry, but it does not surprise me. He moved on smoothly before Draco could interrupt. Whether or not Harry would ever be comfortable with anal sex was not the point right now. At any rate, what would you suggest, since Colben is here and angry about it?

Admit it and charm her with her own honesty, or what she will think is her own honesty.

Draco’s thought bore a scorpion sting in the tail, a contempt that suggested he had expected Severus to figure out that course for himself. Severus carefully did not roll his eyes as he turned back to Colben.

“Yes,” he said. “Our researchers feared that you might have been lying about your mother being Muggleborn, based on your pure-blood ancestor’s stated position.”

Colben shook her head slowly. “And yet,” she said, “though I am of my family, I am not them.”

Draco’s shock sounded like a bell in Severus’s head. That was not at all the thing that he had expected her to say, Severus gathered, while Draco’s thoughts reformed in wheeling patterns too scattered to call for words. Most pure-bloods put loyalty to family first, and Draco had expected that her father would have taught her to do the same. Because she had a Muggleborn mother was not enough reason to change his mind; no doubt a Muggleborn would have been so thrilled to marry a pure-blood that she would never tell her daughter to be proud of one parent’s inferior status.

Draco still had much to learn in some senses, Severus thought, even as the picture of his own mother and father filled his mind and he had to acknowledge there was some truth to the idea of the “superior” parent teaching his or her child to value only one half of his heritage.

“I understand,” he said. “Still, what we are concerned with at the moment is how much your father was of his family and their ideals, rather than you yourself.”

Colben gave a small smile, as though to say this was a deception and she saw through it. Severus felt a quiver of irritation. He had not intended to deceive, and he did not think that he had.

“My father was not entirely loyal to his family, either, but most to his own pleasure when he courted my mother.” Colben gave a small shrug. “In the meantime, how do you intend to redress the insult that you have offered me?”

“By beginning again on a newer and firmer footing.”

Severus clenched his teeth to keep himself from jumping. He had not felt Harry waking or moving closer, so his voice from the stairway came as a shock. A moment later, Harry walked into the room, his face flushed and his hair still rumpled from sleep.

He could at least have cleaned up first, Draco whinged.

Seeing the slight softness about Colben’s mouth, Severus was not sure that Harry’s messiness had not earned them more than perfect cleanliness would have.

“Tell me what this newer and firmer footing will consist of, Mr. Potter.” She steepled her fingers beneath her chin and gave him a thoughtful attention that Severus had to admit impressed him. If she could look at people like that in the rest of the campaign—or rather, if she could convince every individual person that she was looking at them like that—they would feel comfortable enough to vote for her despite her relatively unknown status.

“I intend to make several agreements between us now.” Harry wasn’t smiling again, and his focus on Colben was so intense that Severus felt as though he had drawn further away from the bonds that connected them. “Rather than waiting until you are in office, as I have no doubt that Swanfair intended.”

“She had said something to me about later agreements, that is true.” Colben leaned back so that her arms sprawled along the top of the chair and cocked her head. “She had assumed you would not mind waiting. She did not think of you, and neither do I, as someone to whom power matters.”

“It matters to me so that the wrong people won’t hold it.” Harry edged a step nearer, and Colben’s hand twitched in a way that told Severus her wand was up in the shoulder of her robe, near the collar. “I want some reassurances that you and Swanfair aren’t the wrong people.”

Severus winced. He has just insulted her more than Granger’s requesting her parents’ marriage records ever could have, he told Draco.

I don’t think so, Draco said, his voice in the bond a slender blue spiral of surprise threaded with the gold of delight. Watch.

“That is reasonable,” Colben said calmly, and Severus checked his sharp exclamation. Apparently the woman had a streak of honesty inside her extreme enough to allow her to assent to Harry’s proposal. He wondered if Swanfair knew about this, and if she would consider Colben quite such a controllable puppet if she did. “You should know that at least one thing Swanfair told you is true. I do have every intention of sharing power once I’m in office. I know that I don’t have the expertise to settle every single problem that comes before me, and I would have to rely on others in any case to tell me what the truth is. I am already considering an independent team of investigators that I can send into situations where they have no emotional connection and there is a tangled mess of competing sides of the story. I do not want to rely on solely pure-bloods or solely Muggleborns if there is a dispute between them, for example.”

Harry folded his arms and regarded her skeptically. “That sounds like a good idea, but surely you must have debts to the pure-bloods who are helping you get into power. What happens if they think you’re listening to Muggleborns or your independent investigators too much and start feeling resentful?”

“Oh, I’ve already promised them any number of positions,” Colben said comfortably. “All out of the country. Many of them expressed a preference for living in Italy, France, and the like, in the wizarding communities there. I intend to send them.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. It sounded plausible, though he noticed the dark expression that enfolded Harry’s face and expected the objection that followed.

“But what if they damage our relationships with other countries?” Harry leaned forwards as if he’d spent his entire life arguing about things like this. “If they don’t do a good job, or do such a poor one that you’re forced to take notice?”

“At the moment,” Colben said, “our relationships with other countries are strong and safe. It will take even incompetent ambassadors a long time to do much damage to that structure, at which point I can hope that things in Britain will be more under control and shift my attention elsewhere. Most of them know that they must maintain at least a minimum level of competence to retain their jobs, and several also have relatives in those other countries who can tell them if they are acting poorly.” She shrugged. “It’s not a perfect solution, but nothing is. Better than not fulfilling my debts to them, at least.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Who are the kind of people you intend to appoint to positions in Britain?”

“I understand that your friend Hermione Granger is becoming an inspiring law student, and that she has interests in freeing house-elves,” Colben said. “I have long thought that we can do without house-elves, and the pure-bloods who hold onto them are doing little else than lording it over others with a symbol of superiority. Granger can look into ways that we can do without them and what we should do instead. It will serve as a cause to focus her energy, a test for future projects of the same kind in treating magical creatures well, and a distraction for the excitable from other reforms that I plan to put into place, which will run deeply and might rouse more opposition.”

Harry laughed shortly. “I could say that you were too cynical for my tastes, but I suspect that you’re dealing better with the realities of becoming Minister than I am.”

“Yes,” Colben said simply, “I think I am, too.”

I reckon we can at least be grateful that they get on so well, Draco muttered in Severus’s head.

Harry stepped towards Colben again. He stood only a foot or so away from her now, and Severus’s fingers twitched with the desire to grab him back, out of danger, in case Colben moved more swiftly than it looked as if she could. They still hadn’t seen her in battle and didn’t know what she was capable of there. “I have to put up with you making decisions out of expediency and using me and my friends,” Harry continued, in a tone of slight complaint, “because I know that I don’t know enough about politics to come up with a better way. Maybe there’s a way to govern with complete honesty and by the principles I believe in, without giving in to political pressure and tolerating corrupt people.”

Colben smiled. “There is,” she said. “But it is called dictatorship, and I do not believe that even your strong support among most of the population for killing Voldemort would allow you that.”

Harry gave her a single sharp smile. “So the next-best choice,” he said, “until the Ministry can be thoroughly reformed and we can find people who really will do their job for the love of it, is to ally with someone whose principles I know and whose tactics I don’t much object to.” He took a deep breath. “I told Hermione that I was sure your parents’ records were in the French Ministry, but she contacted them anyway. I am sorry for that. Is there anything else that you feel I have to apologize for?”

“No,” Colben said. “I can promise that your friend Weasley will remain in Auror training and his father in his office, and I have already told you what new project I’m going to offer your friend Granger. I imagine that the hardship of the task will somewhat make up for the distress she caused me by inquiring after my parents’ marriage.” She folded her arms and regarded Harry with a steady gaze. “But I do not have solid plans yet for the three of you. What will you demand from me in exchange for your support?”

Harry’s eyes flashed and the bond rose in such storm that Severus had to control his impulse to stand up from the couch. “Two things,” he said. “First, I want Severus and Draco to have regular access to the Potions Department of the Ministry, so that they can have ingredients, brewing space, and the latest research when they need it.”

Severus blinked and lowered his head. Draco murmured in the back of his mind, the slow sounds never quite forming into words.

“And second,” Harry went on, his voice rising, “I want a guarantee of absolute safety from you. I want your promise that the Ministry’s Aurors will never attack us again without proof that we were involved in some sort of crime. I want an apology from the Ministry for its actions so far and an arrest of Griselda Huxley, since she was the only individual who acted so openly against us.” He glared at Colben fiercely. “Can you promise those?”

“Without hesitation,” Colben said. “Of course Potions masters must keep up with the latest research.” She paused.

Harry glared at her some more.

“And in nothing has Minister Shacklebolt disappointed me more than in his inability to recognize that he squanders both power and good will by antagonizing you,” Colben said. “Yes, I will promise all that you demand.”

Harry nodded slowly. Severus was pleased to see that he was not such a fool as to simply accept her word, but everything was hypothetical for the moment until Colben managed to get into a position of power. That she was willing to promise this much when Harry was not the only one who supported her was a good sign.

No, we are not the only ones who support her, Harry said, his thought snapping at Severus’s thoughts like a furious hummingbird. He flew off again before Severus could retort, fixing his attention on Colben. “Then I think we have nothing more to say to each other for the present, unless you think that you need another apology from me.”

“No.” Colben turned for the door. “I intend to tell Granger about the offer I have for her at the same moment as I ask for an apology from her. I can do no more for now.”

She left, and Severus unwrapped the web of wards that had surrounded her and lifted the outer wards to let her depart. He expected at least one glance back and one mocking smile, but apparently Colben was not interested in letting her enemies know what she was up to. She kept walking, her head up and a stern, distant look on her face.

“I appreciate that you let me sleep, but it wasn’t necessary,” Harry said stiffly from behind him. “I think I handled her better than you did.”

Severus turned around. Harry stood behind him with his arms folded, his chin tilted up, and his eyes so bright with half-concealed anger that they rivaled the green fire that likewise crawled up the bond.

“Severus wasn’t trying to say that you were weak or incompetent to handle her, you prat,” Draco’s disgusted voice said from the direction of the potions lab. “You know that. He couldn’t have known that Colben would come to the door while you were sleeping.”

Harry glanced once at Draco, and then turned back stubbornly to Severus. “But once she did, you should have summoned me.”

“Why?” Severus asked calmly. He thought that something other than the obvious was behind this outburst of Harry’s; he had seemed angry from the moment he had come down the stairs, before he could possibly have known how well he would handle the conversation with Colben. “Do you not trust us to entertain politicians without you? Even though you have confessed that sometimes we know more about politics than you do, having practiced it longer?”

Harry’s face flushed, and for a long moment, he stood silently, as if fighting a torrent of words that wanted to burst out.

“I would be interested in the answer to that question, too,” Draco said, stepping up beside Severus and frowning at Harry with narrow eyes. The bond between him and Severus rippled like fields of corn in the wind.

Harry clenched his teeth, struggled for a moment more, and then burst out with the reason. Severus felt more than saw Draco’s smile. He had been sure that Harry would find it harder to resist an argument with him than with Severus, and he had been right.

“I don’t want you hurt, and almost everyone who’s been involved in our lives since we bonded has tried to hurt you somehow! The Minister tried to unpick the bond and endangered Draco’s life. Huxley’s almost killing me almost killed you. Those people who questioned us a few weeks ago could have become a mob with so little provocation.” Harry’s voice descended into an angry whisper, his eyes so sharp that Severus could also feel that like the strike of a sword through the bond. “And now that I’m in love with you, or as good as, is it so wrong that I feel bad about leaving you alone with Colben?”

“But that still makes it seem that you don’t trust us,” Draco said, finding the words before Severus could try a more diplomatic answer. “Not to mention that you’re taking up that mantle of martyr again, thinking you need to shield us against all manner of things, even if you pay with your life.” He stepped towards Harry. “If they’re so dangerous for us to face, why is it such a good idea for you to face them?”

Harry blinked and bowed his head the way Severus had when he heard the first of Harry’s conditions. Then he sighed and said, “I’m sorry.”

Severus caught his mouth hanging open and closed it hastily. He had never expected to hear an apology so readily out of James Potter’s son. Harry gave him a sardonic glance, and then focused on Draco again.

“I’ll try not to do that,” he said, struggling with the words as though they were Albus’s sherbet lemons. “It’s hard to overcome habit, though. And I do think that Severus should have woken me up.”

“I will remember that in the future,” Severus said, glad that the argument had been averted so easily.

Harry stepped up to Severus and touched his chin, running his fingers delicately up and down his jawline. “You’ve already lost so much and taken so many risks,” Harry whispered. “I don’t want you to be hurt again.”

“But he will be,” Draco said. “And I will be, and so will you.” He moved up behind Harry and looped his arms around Harry’s waist. “So you’ll have to get used to the idea that all three of us protect each other.”

Harry leaned up to kiss Severus, a kiss which Severus returned eagerly, and then leaned back so that his head fell on Draco’s shoulder and he could kiss him as well. “Thank you,” he said. “That helps. This all helps. I never thought I would feel—that I would have someone, or two people, as close as this—” He faltered and shut his eyes, shaking his head.

The bonds blazed with shooting stars of all the emotions he had left unvoiced: worry, fear, pride, lust, and the love he had finally named.

Severus leaned in for another kiss at the same time Draco did, so that they might show Harry he was not alone.

Part Twenty-Eight.

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