Chapter Seven of 'Love, Free as Air'- Freedom and Flight

[lomonaaeren]

Chapter Six.

Title: Love, Free As Air (7/?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Warnings: Sex, angst, profanity, a bit of violence. Ignores the epilogue of DH.
Pairings: Snape/Harry/Draco.
Rating: R
Summary: Trapped in his Animagus form, Harry stumbles on Snape and Draco, who disappeared from the wizarding world years ago. His first task is to become human again. His second might be to help Snape and Draco with the same problem.
Author’s Notes: This story is being written for heeroluva, who won a charity auction at gulf_aid_now to raise money for the oil spill disaster in the Gulf of Mexico. She gave me the plot, for which I thank her. I’m not sure how long this story will be, though I estimate somewhere between 15 and 20 chapters. The title comes from a quote by Alexander Pope.

Chapter One.

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Seven—Freedom and Flight

Draco lay in his own bed that night and stretched his arms out until his hands brushed the edges of the sheets. Then he turned over and buried his face into the single pillow. He didn’t have to worry about someone close to him snorting into his hair and mumbling into his ear, the way that Severus tended to do in the early morning.

He had missed the sex. Draco could admit that freely. Severus wasn’t a beautiful man, but he was a controlledone, in absolute charge of his body, able to move it in ways that wouldn’t have occurred to someone younger than he was. Draco had wanted to share his bed far more frequently than Severus had let him in the past few years.

But had he missed the other things? The way Severus slept so close, his arm flung across Draco’s throat, his body twisted right on top of Draco?

It had taken him this long to realize it, but Draco had to shake his head slowly. No, that was something it hadn’t occurred to him to miss. Why should he? Severus had made it clear that he considered closeness a problem, and they’d had separate bedrooms for so long now that it was difficult for Draco to remember whose bed they’d last slept in together, as opposed to had sex in. Severus had said the separate bedrooms would be good for them, giving them each their own space.

Draco smiled faintly, derisively, but it was more for his childish self, the one who had always believed Severus unquestioningly, than for Severus. Draco had known Severus for what he was when he was still in school: selfish, passionate only in pursuit of what he wanted. Draco hadn’t been one of those things for a long time now.

He couldn’t blame someone for being a Slytherin, or he would have had to blame himself.

Draco rolled over again and stared up at the ceiling. He had thought that the last few days would make him realize how much he missed Severus, because he’d been spending time apart from him and doing things that didn’t involve him—meditating, gardening, studying subjects that had nothing to do with Potions, eating meals alone or in Potter’s company. Draco had hoped the schedule of activities would teach him what he could put up with and what he would have to demand would change.

Instead, it had taught him…

What? That he could be happy on his own?

Draco nodded slowly. Yes, it had showed him that.

Of course, he still hadn’t been alone, because Potter was with him. Draco didn’t think he was ready for absolute solitude yet. And in the wide world beyond the cottage, there were a very limited number of people who would be willing to spend time with him. Even his old school friends, doubtless still watched by the Ministry, wouldn’t want to risk drawing their attention by taking Draco in.

So, if he wanted to be apart from Severus and learn more about this strange resilience he had thought crushed out of him years ago, where could he go?

That was the crux of the problem, and what had kept Draco from leaving whenever he thought about it before. Well, he had to admit, that and inherent laziness. The very fact that he had revived so quickly when Potter came around meant that he’d never been as hopeless and helpless as he’d thought. He’d liked to think he was because it was easier than doing something that would actually change the situation.

“I’m just admitting all sorts of things about myself this evening,” Draco muttered, but it was all right because no one was around to hear.

All right. He needed company, and he needed a place to live where he could fairly easily get books, food, and other necessities and yet go unnoticed by the authorities. Where?

When the answer first came to him, Draco snorted and turned it away. But it stood there like an insistent visitor, knocking at the gates of his mind until Draco lowered his defenses and let it in.

Why not Potter’s house?

There was really no reason, when he thought about it in more detail. He could do things to pay for his upkeep: brewing any potions Potter needed, cooking meals that were probably better than what Potter got on his own, teaching him a bit of esoteric magical theory (assuming that he wanted to learn).

And, now that he understood more about Potter and the kind of person he was, Draco thought it highly likely that Potter would probably let Draco stay in his house for free, at least until he could come up with some more permanent solution. Convincing the Ministry that he was innocent, perhaps.

Draco tried to pull his imagination back into bounds. You have absolutely no reason to think that will happen. Calm down and focus on what you can actually do.

But he had told himself that for years, buried his dreams and his hopes to try and retain Severus’s attention, and now they seemed to have grown too thick to be denied. They burst out, and Draco saw himself free to walk the streets of the wizarding world again, if not respected the way his family once had been. He could create a career of sorts for himself. There would always be people who found a touch of danger would add to their purchases—in this case, buying their potions from an acquitted criminal—and Draco knew he could do things with potions that, if not as spectacular as Severus’s skills, would at least decently stand up against them.

He could try. If he failed, then he would think of something else. But he thought Potter would help him.

And with Potter by his side, he wouldn’t be alone.

Who knew it was as simple as asking for help?Draco thought in wonder, burrowing back down under the sheets of his lovely, lonely bed and closing his eyes. I’ll wait until Severus changes him back to human, but after that, we’re going. Severus can make up his own mind about what he wants to do after that, but since he’ll have the solitude that he’s always wanted, I don’t see why he should care.

*

“I have finished the potion.”

Severus had expected a more astounded reaction to his announcement than the one he received, which was Potter cocking his head to the side to study him with a single bright eye and Draco looking up from his book.

“Have you?’ Draco asked after a moment, during which Severus had the impression that they had both waited for Potter to speak and both been disappointed. “Well, good. Are you ready to use it, or does it need to steep?” He snapped his book shut and glanced over at Potter, who was scratching energetically at the back of his head now.

“It is ready to use,” Severus said, and turned around as Potter’s wings opened. But he only flew across the room from his perch to Draco’s shoulder and settled there, folding his wings the next moment. Draco looked as startled as Severus felt, and then considerably more pleased.

Severus frowned. Were it not an impossibility, given the way that Potter must depend on us in his bird shape, I would say that Draco is coming to depend on him. But he shook away the strange thought and turned back to his lab.

He heard the noise of Draco following, but no wings flapping. Potter must be riding on Draco’s shoulder.

That should not have troubled him. Why did it trouble him? It was the sort of thing that a parrot would do, and Severus knew that the instincts grew stronger and more insistent the longer one was in Animagus form. Potter had spent at least a fortnight in his, and that was only if one counted from the time of his arrival at Severus and Draco’s home. It made sense that he would want to ride on a human’s shoulder and save himself the trouble of flight.

But the trouble remained as Severus stepped into the lab, picked up the vial of gently dancing purple-pink potion, and turned around.

Potter waited until Draco had crossed the threshold of the lab and then spread his wings, soaring across the room to land in front of Severus on the perch they’d put up for him. At the height of the perch, he and Severus were nearly eye to eye. Potter cocked his head at him. “Ready?” he asked.

“You will fall off the perch when you begin to change,” Severus said.

“I won’t fall far,” Potter said. “And I don’t think you’d be willing to have me on the counter, either, or willing to bend down and feed it to me while I was standing on the floor.”

“I would,” Draco said.

Potter turned his head and looked at Draco, while Severus narrowed his eyes and tried to figure out which was stronger: his surprise that Draco was making this offer, or his anger.

“All right,” Potter said, and flew over and landed on the lab floor in front of Draco before Severus could make so much as a noise of protest. He spread his wings and held them out as if for balance while gazing up at Draco.

Draco stared back as he took up the vial of potion and knelt, and then smiled. Severus frowned. There was once again a swell of emotion in him, as there had been when he fucked Draco, as there had been when he heard Draco was leaving, that he did not understand and did not want to understand.

Potter drank the potion, though there was a long second when Severus thought Draco might not be able to force the flared lip of the vial past the constrictions of Potter’s beak. Then Potter swallowed it, craning his head back and forth, tongue flipping and flapping at the air. Draco took a step away and put the vial on the table behind him.

There was a slight storm of smoke from the edges of Potter’s beak. Severus waited.

“How did you finally manage to create a potion that would take care of a spell you couldn’t detect?” Draco asked quietly.

“I looked for disturbances in the natural magic around him,” Severus said, gratified that at least one other person was interested in the process. “The spell, to protect itself, generated a small field of nothingness. It welled around Potter and created a minute disturbance in the wards and the other permanent spells we have set about the house. I noticed it when I increased the wards in my lab—”

There was a single bright snapping sound, as though someone had broken a brass plate, and then Potter screeched cheerfully. Severus watched closely, knowing that the potion should have forced the spell to end, but not sure what would happen next.

Potter’s parrot body elongated, and then became flatter and more hunched. Severus found himself having to look away during some of the moments when it stretched, but he had the impression that Draco watched all the way through, though perhaps with his breath coming out in small pants and gags.

When Severus turned back, it was to see a naked Potter rising to his feet, shaking the familiar, hated dark hair back from his face. He nodded to them and said, “Thank you.”

Severus blinked. He could not say that he would have recognized Potter without the distinctive features of shaggy hair and green eyes. His scar had faded to almost a line under his fringe, his body was considerably taller and more slender and more scarred than when Severus had last seen him, and his skin had the dark flush of someone who spent most of his time outside. He also looked half-starved, though Severus knew that came from spending most of his time as a parrot with people who had not cared well for him.

He found his eyes wandering down and took them away with a frown. Draco, beside him, continued to watch Potter avidly.

Potter seemed to notice and smiled back at Draco before he held up his right hand and closed his eyes. A frown of concentration worked its way over his face before he announced, “Accio wand.”

Severus felt a current of power ripple out from Potter, spring through their wards, and earth itself somewhere a long way away. A moment later, something answered it and came flying towards the house.

“I couldn’t take the wand with me when I became a parrot, just in case they suspected something and made me change back,” Potter explained. He was stretching his arms over his head and looking at his hands in wonder, as though it would take him some time to get used to having them again, instead of wings. “We knew they were smart enough to use the spells that would give them an idea of a wizard’s power level if he and his wand were together. Separated, they would know I could perform magic, but not how much.”

“They would know you,” Draco pointed out, gesturing towards the scar on Potter’s forehead. He still hadn’t taken his eyes from Potter’s naked body, Severus saw, and that brought another burst of emotion on in his chest. “And they would know that you’re quite powerful.”

Potter shook his head, a sly smile curling his lips. That was one way in which Severus did not find him an improvement over the parrot: his ability to wear expressions like that. Severus could have gone quite happily from one end of his life to the others without ever seeing Potter smile that way. “There are plenty of people who’ve thought since the war that I’m not that powerful, or I would have been able to defeat Voldemort with something other than an Expelliarmus. And I’ve encouraged those people to think that, and spread rumors and write articles.”

Severus did not have time to respond, because Potter’s wand came through the wards and swirled down into the grasp of Potter’s hand.

“All right,” Potter said, and turned around to face Severus and Draco. “I assume that you want me to make the Unbreakable Vow? And for Malfoy to be our Bonder?” He dropped to one knee in the center of the lab, never taking his eyes from Severus’s face, as if he assumed that Severus would tell him from his expression how severe the Vow had to be.

Severus nodded once and drew his own wand. He did not like many things: Potter’s face, the way that Draco had never looked away from Potter yet, the way that Potter seemed so comfortable naked…

Or the way that he was in danger of reacting, with a lithe, beautiful young man in front of him, the only person other than Draco whom he had seen naked for six years.

*

Harry waited patiently, keeping inside the small, mean smile that wanted to appear. He knew his nakedness disconcerted Snape, and so did Malfoy’s reaction. Harry would go on milking them for all they were worth, at least until after the Unbreakable Vow was over and he had no reason to do so anymore.

Snape seemed to realize, finally, that the best way to get this over with was to get the Vow over with. He knelt in front of Harry and held out his hand. Harry clasped it willingly. He would have expected the hand to be slimy and the fingers as scaly and greasy as Snape’s hair a few weeks ago, but he had had time enough to observe the careful way Snape handled his potions.

The hand just felt like a hand, if dryer than usual. Harry glanced up and nodded to Malfoy. “You need your wand out,” he said.

Malfoy flushed, blinked, mumbled, and pulled out the hawthorn wand. Harry watched it through half-closed eyes and felt a pulse of familiar magic when it settled on top of his and Snape’s joined hands. Well, he had used it several times. Perhaps this was the wand’s way of greeting him.

“Will you promise never to tell anyone of the place Draco and I have made for ourselves here, or the way to find it?” Snape asked harshly, his voice a dry gust on Harry’s face. Maybe he was withered up on the inside as well as the outside, Harry thought, meeting his eyes. Maybe there was nothing soft or warm about him.

“I will,” Harry responded.

The first tongue of fire appeared, encircling both their hands, and gave Harry all the heat he could have wanted when it tickled, not quite burning, the small hairs on the back of his hand. He held in the grunt that he wanted to give, never looking away from Snape.

“Will you vow never to betray our existence to anyone, or our escaped state, or our defenses, or our current freedom, except as we may direct and desire?” Snape demanded.

“I will,” Harry said, and the second tongue of fire joined the first. The wand shook a little, Harry noticed, and, when he glanced to the side, he saw that Malfoy had the strangest expression on his face. He had no idea why, though, so he shrugged and let it go.

“Will you promise not to bring harm to us by any direct or indirect route, at the instigation of anyone other than ourselves?” Snape asked.

Harry bit his tongue to hold back the laughter as he thought about the devious ways Snape’s mind worked. He could understand why they might someday want Harry to talk about them to the outside world, but not why they might someday want Harry to do harm.

“I will,” he said, when he was sure he wouldn’t laugh, and the third tongue of fire appeared to complete the knot. They held still for a moment more, until the fire shimmered and vanished, and Harry released Snape’s hand and stood up, gratefully flexing his fingers.

“If you could lend me a few clothes and lower the wards for me, I’ll be on my way,” he said.

“I’m coming with you,” Malfoy said quietly.

Harry felt a jerk of feeling in the center of his stomach, and couldn’t have named it. But what he saw most clearly, at least in the moment before he turned around to face Malfoy, was the flash of murderous rage that crossed Snape’s face.

*

Draco licked his lips. He had to hold to his purpose in the face of Severus’s anger, and that was always easier said than done. But he had not only his own determination but the approval and welcome in Potter’s face to encourage him.

“Are you sure?” Potter asked, before Severus could say anything. “I know that you were going to try to work on him. And he at least looked at those memories I gave him the other day, though I don’t know what he made of them.”

“You will not speak of me as though I do not stand here,” Severus said, and his words cut across the ones Draco had planned to say.

Potter blinked at him. “Out of all the things happening here,” he said softly, “you’re the most worried about that?”

Severus went still. Draco knew that stillness hid vulnerability, as well as a determination not to let anyone see the vulnerability which he would hide as fiercely. He had been taken off-guard by Potter’s words, and this might be the only moment Draco would have to make an impression of his own, past that initial second of surprise when he had announced his desire.

“You were right about me,” Draco said.

Severus turned towards him, and both of them ignored Potter’s inarticulate noise of protest, though Draco, at least, was aware of it. He met Severus eye to eye and stared back at him with a courage that he had long since thought he’d lost.

But then, that was the problem. It had been easier to think of the qualities like courage as lost rather than buried, because if he thought of them that way, then he would have been responsible for digging them up again.

“You were right that I was more childish than you are,” Draco said steadily. “I gave up my responsibilities too easily. I thought I knew what life would be like here, but I really didn’t, and then I blamed you for the difference between my dreams and the reality, instead of changing either the reality or my dreams. I mistook a crush and physical affection for love.

“I do think that I’m in love with you now. I could never have put up with what I have for as long as I have without that. But my dreams are more important to me, the same way that brewing is more important to you than I am.”

Severus made a single violent gesture, as though reaching out to reclaim something, but when Draco paused and waited courteously, he said nothing. Draco nodded and went on. He had suspected that Severus would hesitate.

“So I’ve taken charge of my life now, and I know that I can live with Potter for a time, with his help, and hopefully reestablish myself in the wizarding world, again with his help. It’ll take a long time, but now I’m more prepared for what my life will be like, instead of dreaming up this childish vision that I cling to long after I realize that it won’t and can’t be fulfilled.

“I’ll swear an Unbreakable Vow if you like, also promising not to betray you. Potter can be our Bonder.”

He stopped speaking. Severus stood there in heated silence for long moments, all eyes for him, and none for Potter. Draco had to admit that he found that gratifying. As he had admitted to Potter, having Severus’s complete attention was heady.

Then Severus cleared his throat and said, “I do not wish you to leave.”

“But why?” Draco demanded. “I told you that you were right. I’m too childish to live with you. I’m trying to change that, but not for you. For myself. It would be a long time, if ever, before I would make you a good companion. And I want out of this house, I want more company, I want to live. Do you want that?”

Severus’s left hand closed into a fist, though the right remained still. Draco wondered if Potter had noticed. Perhaps not, with the way he seemed to attend to both of their faces at once and the angle he was standing at.

“I wish to continue to exist,” Severus said. “Yes. Of course.”

Draco shook his head, irritated. He hated it when Severus pretended to be stupid, to miss the nuances in words that he probably saw more of than anyone else. “I don’t mean that. I mean, do you want to live in the wider world, with more people around you, and grow instead of stagnate? You’re happy brewing your potions. You’re happy with the way that things are. Isn’t that true?”

Severus inclined his head. “But I would—” he said, and then halted so abruptly that Draco knew he had cut the words off because they would reveal too much of himself.

Draco tilted his head. It occurred to him for the first time that, although Severus might know exactly what he wanted as far as his skills and activities were concerned, he might not understand himself as well. Maybe the man Draco loved, had seen glimpses of, and had constructed an imaginary picture of was still there, beneath the surface of the sure, calm, centered Potions master.

“Yes?” he asked. He made his voice encouraging. Severus still deserved a chance.

*

Draco expects me to speak such words in front of Potter.

Severus could not forget the audience. He could not forget that Draco had pushed him to this, and that he was being forced to discover new things about himself, new emotions, new gestures, not in decent privacy and over a decent length of time, but in a crowded room and all at once.

He had not understood himself when he prevented Draco from leaving, but he had thought that he would have months or years to come to terms with that action, and so he had not greatly feared. Now he had to fear what would happen if he said the wrong thing. He had to fear Potter’s loud laughter and Draco’s contempt.

He had to fear Draco’s leaving.

Severus brought his face up and shook his head. He locked his emotions far beneath the surface. If Draco wanted to revel in his humiliation, Severus would deny him at least that much. “I would have you leave, of course,” he said, voice deep and cold and polished as frosted iron, “if you feel that you cannot live here.”

Draco didn’t try to hide the pain in his eyes, and Severus sneered at him. Yes, he had forgotten their audience. There was no other excuse for his behavior.

Potter reached out a hand, and it came to a rest on Draco’s shoulder. Severus turned on him. Their lives would not have changed if Potter had not stumbled through the wards, and he could only think that was a good thing.

“I want you gone within the hour,” he said.

“That’s not a problem,” Potter said, still calm and unworried by his own nakedness. Severus did not understand that. He would not have been able to rest until he was covered. Why should Potter be stronger than him in any way, including this one? “I can just borrow some clothes from Malfoy—he’s closer to my size than you are, anyway—and help him pack his things. We’ll be gone in your hour.”

When Severus turned back to Draco, he had repaired his façade. He had a look of chill pride in his eyes, in fact, that Severus had not seen in years.

“Good-bye, Severus,” he said, and followed Potter out of the lab.

Severus stood in the center of the lab, thinking, and foresaw how it would be. Potter would seduce Draco. They would live together, and Potter would make Draco into his toy that he could take out when he wanted and leave behind when he wanted. Draco would lose his useful skills—study, research, brewing—and become the shallow socialite he had once vowed to Severus he would rather leave with him than chance becoming.

They would be lovers.

The wards on the lab meant that neither of the traitors would be able to hear the vials that shattered against the walls a moment later.