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Stockholm Syndrome

Chapter Text

Harry's first thought was; "Damn. Hermione's going to be pissed I missed another lunch." His second thought was "I really don't want another lecture from Kingsley about ditching my detail." And, of course if Kingsley gave a lecture, which he would, then another would be coming from Remus, followed by that particular look of disappointment from his godfather. On the bright side, this might finally convince Kingsley to remove Robards from his detail. It was, after all, the second time Harry had ditched the man. Well, technically third, but he hadn't been caught last time. Maybe he could get Weasley back. Sure the guy was the same age as Harry, but he was a great tactician and Harry was pretty sure Hermione had actually started to warm up to the guy. And who wouldn't? The man was Built, with a capital B. He had been a college football star. He also came from a large family and Harry had enjoyed hearing Ron's stories about his brothers and younger sister. Yes, he'd talk to Kingsley about getting Ron back. As soon as he got out of this mess.

Harry could feel the coldness of the gun barrel seeping through his t-shirt, the pressure digging into his kidney. "Hmm. If you wanted a date you only had to ask," he told the man behind him.

"Shut up," the man growled and Harry had to hold back a snort at the man's attempt to sound gruff. "See that van? Slowly make your way over to it and don't even think about running." At the "don't" the gun was shoved into his kidney and Harry jerked but started walking.

"A van? Well, that's original. What? No candy to lure me in?"

"Shut up," another jab. He made his way towards the van parked almost completely in the dark alley and was guided further into the alley to the back of the van. He relaxed his body in preparation for his escape, ready to incapacitate his captor. The man grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt. "Don't move." Harry froze and the man reached for the van door.

"Oh, such the gentleman you are, kind sir. Opening the door for little ol' me."

"Shut. Up." The door flew open and Harry got the impression of a tall thin man on his knees encased in darkness (interesting) before he was thrown in. Two men. Well, he'd fought off worse.

"Shite, Luke," the other man spoke and Harry was instantly aroused by the timbre of the man's voice. "You fucking incompetent. You were supposed to blindfold him." The other man had moved over Harry as he spoke, pining him to the floor of the van.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'm not really into BDSM," Harry said as the new man began tying his hands behind his back. He really should escape now.

The man on top of him bent down and Harry felt the man's long hair brush across his face, the sweet smell of mint surrounded him. "Just do as you're told and you'll be home soon enough," the silky voice washed over him. Fuck. Maybe he'd stick around for a bit.

"Keep talking like that and I'll do anything you want, mister."

Harry heard the van door close as a piece of fabric was placed over his eyes, the long fingers of the man brushing against his face. Harry squirmed against the van floor.

"Get still," the man snapped.

"Sorry," Harry said, "Just realized I apparently am into BDSM. Just promise not to hurt me too much. It's my first time."  Another door opened and Harry felt the van shift as someone climbed in and the door closed again. "I'm Harry, by the way. But you probably already know that. Or do you randomly pick your partners from the street?"

"Shut. Up." "Luke" growled as the van started.

"I wasn't talking to you, Pretty Boy," Harry said. He turned his head towards the man still over him. "What should I call you?"

"Nothing," the other man sneered as the van started moving.

"You sound a bit like my old English professor. Can I call you Professor?"

"No," the silky voice snapped as he moved off Harry.

Harry ignored him. "We'll need a safe word. I like 'honeysuckle' myself but if you have a different preference I'm all ears."

"Do you ever shut up?" "Professor" asked.

"Not really. Robards is always complaining I give him a headache but the man's a pain in the arse so it just makes it more fun."

"Shut him up. I told you we should have brought a gag," Pretty Boy called from the front of the van.

Harry felt the man shift beside him and his soft hair caressed Harry's face once more. "You should be quiet, kid. Luke has a temper."

Harry sighed and nodded. "Can I at least sit up?"

"Come on," the man grabbed his arm and helped Harry move into a sitting position. He caught another whiff of mint. Harry sat quietly as the van drove through town. He closed his eyes, counting the minutes and turns in his head.

An hour later the van finally came to a stop and the man beside him moved to open the door. Harry felt the warm sunlight hit his face.

"Come on," Professor told him as he wrapped his hand around Harry's arm and pulled. Harry moved to the end of the van and allowed himself to tumble onto the gravel drive. The man pulled him up and Harry stumbled against his tall form.

"Mmm. Sorry, Professor. My legs are a little jiggly."

The man huffed and yanked on his arm. "Come on."

Harry stumbled up the stairs and was pushed into a building. He nearly gagged on the cigarette smoke. The man beside him coughed and Harry felt small puffs of air as the man waved his hand around.

"Dammit, Voldemort. Can't hardly breathe in here."

Harry snorted. "Theft of death? Really? What an abominable appellation. Or were you going for the Latin Death Wish? Which I could totally get behind."

"I see Luke was able to get the brat," a raspy voice said from Harry's left.

He turned his "Media-winning" smile towards the voice. "Are we having a full on orgy or is it just you three? And, just so we're clear, Tall Dark and Sultry over here and I decided on 'honeysuckle' as the safe word."

"What the fuck is he going on about?" Raspy Voice said.

"The boy hasn't shut up since I grabbed him," Luke volunteered.

Professor yanked on his arm. "You need to shut up, Potter. These guys are serious," he hissed in his ear. Out loud he spoke to the others. "I'll put him in the room." He pushed on Harry and Harry started walking. He passed Pretty Boy Luke and bumped his hip on a table before he was pulled to a stop and a door was pulled open. Professor led him across the room and his knees bumped against a bed. "Sit." Harry obeyed. "Don't move."

"Shall I roll over as well, Professor?"

The only answer was the sound of a closing door and a key turning. Harry smiled to himself and waited. The door opened a minute later and Harry listened as footsteps crossed the room. Long fingers grabbed his arm. "Stand up."

"Play time already, Professor? I was just getting comfortable."

"You really are quite annoying. Where's your cell?"

"My what?"

The man shook him. "Your cell phone, you idiot boy. Where is it?"

"Don't have it. I never carry a cell when I ditch my detail."

"Bloody-" the man started patting his pockets. "Incompetent fool. He'll get us all thrown in prison," the man mumbled.

"If you wanted to feel my arse, Professor, all you had to do was ask."

The man huffed. "He doesn't have one," he called out.

"Strip him," Raspy voice said from the doorway. "Check for a tracker."

Harry leaned forward to whisper to Professor. "Does he have to watch? I'm a little shy around strangers."

Professor sighed. "Take your shoes off, Potter."

Harry toed his shoes off and he felt the man bend down to pick them up. He stepped away, "They'll need to be disposed of in case there's a tracker in them."

The sound of retreating footsteps and Harry felt his shirt being tugged from his pants. "Finally alone, Professor. I thought he'd never leave."

The man snorted as he yanked Harry's shirt up and felt his chest and torso.

Harry's breath caught at the cold hands on his skin. "Mmm. Professor, your hands are like ice. You should let me warm them."

He grabbed Harry's wrist and Harry felt the tug at his old, worn silver and black Mickey Mouse watch as a long finger slid under the face. "That's a bit crude for the Potter heir."

Harry allowed the sadness to resonate in his voice. "It was a gift from an old friend." He swallowed and said hoarsely, "If you have to take it, please be careful with it. I-I can't loose it."

The man dropped his arm after a few seconds and moved around him and felt his back before dropping his shirt back down. Harry felt a tug on his pants.

"Careful, Professor," he warned, the teasing tone back in his voice.

The man yanked his jeans down. "Step out of them."

Harry obeyed, feeling the rush of cool air on his legs. "Not much for words are you, Professor? That's okay. I can talk enough for the both of us."


Harry smiled. "What about my boxers, Professor? I wouldn't want you to be remiss in checking me out completely." The man did not respond or move to touch him. "I promise to behave, Professor," he said in a sultry tone.

The man snorted. "That I highly doubt, Potter."

Harry felt the man move and a second later long fingers were skimming up his thigh, pushing his shorts up. First one leg then the other. Apparently satisfied, the shorts fell back into place and the man moved away.

"I'll need help putting my jeans back on, Professor," Harry teased.

"Sit down," the man commanded and Harry sat. A second later the door closed and locked.


Several hours later, Harry woke to the sound of the door opening. He pulled himself up and felt familiar long fingers on his arm. "Come on," that silky voice commanded.

He stood and let Professor lead him from the room. He was stopped after only a few feet and he felt Professor move behind him and grab his wrists. The cord was removed from his wrist but the man held firm to his hands. He guided Harry's arms to his front and held them tight with one hand. "Behave," the man growled against his ear.

"Didn't I already promise I would, Professor?"

Harry felt the cold steel slide around his wrists as handcuffs replaced the cord. The man huffed and pressed something soft into Harry's hands. Harry grabbed at the fabric.

"Sleep pants," the man explained. "Put them on."

The man stood directly behind Harry as he struggled into the soft flannel. "First I get my own room and now I'm wearing your clothes. Are you sure we aren't moving too fast, Professor?"

"Be quiet, you idiot," he hissed. He grabbed Harry's shoulders as he pulled up the pants and maneuvered him into a chair. "Sit. Do not attempt to remove your blindfold. There is a hamburger in front of you and a glass of water beside it."

"No crisps?" Harry pouted.

"Eat," was the grumbled reply.

Harry shrugged and carefully reached for the burger. He found his dinner and took a careful bite. Not his favorite food chain but it would do. He took several bites before searching out his drink. He almost knocked it over but Professor's quick reflexes saved it.

"Thanks." He took a long drink and placed it carefully back on the table. "I take it Voldy and Pretty Boy went to deliver the ransom note to dear old dad?"

The man was silent for several minutes before he finally answered. "Yes."

Harry took another bite. "I hope you guys are patient."

The man did not answer and Harry went back to his burger. He was nearly done when the door opened and two sets of footsteps entered the house.

"We all set, boys?" He called out as he sipped his water.

"Why is he still out here?" Pretty Boy Luke demanded.

"He's eating," Professor replied tonelessly.

Harry waved his burger in their general direction. "Next time I'd like fish and chips. Red meat gives me indigestion. Get your little ransom note sent off to Kingsley? He'll demand proof of life before he even attempts to contact my dad, of course," Harry told them as he bit into his burger.

"What do you mean 'attempt' to contact your father?" Raspy Voice growled.

"Oh, Daddy Dearest is in Cambodia. Or was it the Caribbean? Well, he never really leaves an itinerary so it's a bit of a hit and miss. Really, you should have taken me to the mansion and had me get you in so you could rob the place. I even have the combinations to all three safes. Half a million in cash and gems just in the two downstairs." He delivered the speech in a carelessly casual tone.

"What?" Pretty Boy squeaked.

Harry licked the juice from his fingers and reached for his water. He finished it off and smiled in Professor's direction. "Might I have some more water please, Professor?"

The cup was pulled from his hands and he felt the man stand and move away. He returned less than a minute later and Harry heard the thunk of the cup hitting the table. The man sat down and Harry leaned towards him. "I'll probably have to pee after drinking all this water. Want to help me?"

The man snorted.

"Once he eats get him back in the room, Prince," Raspy voice said. "Luke will take the night shift."

Harry turned his head towards Professor. "Prince? You should have told me I was in the midst of royalty. You know, I met Princess Eugenie once. Bit of a stuck up-"

"Shut. Up."

Harry turned to the voice. "Oh, hello, Pretty Boy. You still here?"

"He's done eating," Pretty Boy Luke growled. "Get him back to the room."

Professor Prince stood and pulled Harry up and Harry let him lead him to the room. They stepped inside and the man pulled him to a halt. "I won't remove your cuffs, but they can stay in front. If you take off your blindfold you won't be allowed to leave this room with it off. Don't try anything stupid."

Harry stood still as the man backed out of the room. He waited for the door to close and the snick of the lock before raising his hands up to snatch the blindfold off. It was almost pure darkness besides the line of light that filtered under the door. He crossed over and ran his hands along the wall. With a silent hah of triumph he flipped the switch. It was a low wattage bulb, but gave out enough light to make out the bed and small nightstand across from him and another door to his right. There was no window and the floor and walls were concrete. He crossed over to the other door and pushed it open. He found another light switch and flipped it to find a stand up shower, pedestal sink, and a single toilet. No cupboards to go through, no mirror to break, even the shower was open with not even a curtain to separate it from the rest of the sparse bathroom. Someone was very thorough. Harry shrugged and flipped the light off. He walked back into the main room before going to sit beside the door. He lay down and closed his eyes, waiting. He smiled as the voices filtered in from the kitchen.

"Go home, Prince. I got this," Pretty Boy said.

"You had better not mess this up, Luke. Don't fall asleep. Ri- Voldemort will be here in the morning and I'll be back as soon as I get off work," the man sneered.

"Yeah. Yeah. I told you, I got this. How hard can it be? A few nights watching the brat and we'll be rich."

Professor Prince snorted and Harry had to agree, although their dissent most likely stemmed from different parts of that statement.

There was movement on the other side of the door but nothing else was said. Harry lay on the floor for several hours, listening and playing with the band of his watch, a habit from years past. Eventually he rose and slid into bed. He hoped Hermione wasn't too mad at him.


Chapter Text

Harry listened intently as he lay in silence. He slowly slipped from the bed and padded across the room. He dropped quietly to the floor and pressed his ear to the crack and waited. He could faintly make out the sound of a television. No other sounds were forthcoming. He rose and flipped the light on, dim light filling the room. He took in his surroundings again and shrugged to himself. He moved to the center of the room and lowered himself to the floor. At least Kingsley would be glad to hear he was continuing his exercise regimen.


Harry jumped at the knock on the door.

"Put your blindfold on, brat," the voice called through the door.

Harry reached for the fabric and slipped it over his face. "I didn't know you cared, Professor," he called out. "You can come in now. I'm decent."

The lock turned and Harry listened as the door opened slowly and footsteps crossed the floor. Long fingers reached up to tug at the blindfold.

"Is it playtime, Professor?"

"I've brought you food. Come on."

The man pulled him up and Harry let him lead him back out to the table. He settled him into the chair and Harry felt around the table in front of him and smiled. "You remembered." He lifted the fried fish to his lips and took a healthy bite. "Mmm. Heavenly."

The man snorted. "It's junk food."

"You could always cook me dinner, sir. I'm quite fond of shrimp linguine with pesto and a nice glass of Muscadet. Perhaps a rich chocolate mousse for dessert." He waited for several long seconds before shrugging "No? Okay," and took another bite of his fish. He ate in silence for several minutes before the other man spoke.

"You look just like him."

Harry raised his head. "Hm? Oh. You mean my father. Yeah. I look just like him, 'cept I have my mother's eyes."

"You do?" The man asked, surprise evident in his voice?

Harry nodded. "But I guess you wouldn't know that. So you know my dad?"

"Knew. A long time ago."

"Luck you," Harry said in a voice that clearly stated the man wasn't.

The man snorted and Harry wholeheartedly agreed. He finished off his fish and chips before Professor walked him back to the room and locked him in. Harry lay down on the floor beside the door and closed his eyes.


Harry had only moved from the door long enough to take a bathroom break so he was expecting the knock when it came.

"Put your blindfold on, brat."

He slid the fabric over his eyes as he stood and backed from the door. "As you wish, Professor."

The door opened and he was pulled out into the kitchen. "Is it dinner time already?"

"Harry!" He recognized the tinny voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt, his father's head of security, through a phone.

"King. My man, What's up?"

"Harry James, what the hell-"

"You have your proof of life," Raspy Voice cut him off.

"I want Weasley back," Harry yelled out. "Robards is a di-"

"Hush. Get him out of here," Raspy Voice ordered.

Harry was pushed back towards the room. "I only call him 'King' because that's his name," Harry whispered to the man guiding him. "Not because he out ranks you in my affections."

The man snorted and pushed him into the room. Harry waited for the lock to snick before he lay back on the floor, listening. He wondered if Kingsley would be able to locate his father, if he would even try, or if the men would just give up. He slid his finger under the familiar band of the watch, comforted by the scratchy fabric.


"Put your blindfold on, brat."

Harry rose from the bed and reached for the fabric. By his count, it had been two days since he'd spoken to Kingsley. "I'm all yours, My Prince," he called out.

The door opened and he was led to the table. He settled into the familiar chair. "And what did My Prince bring me to feast upon tonight?" He felt around the table and found a sandwich. He picked it up and bit into it. Corned beef. Not bad. He sighed audibly in disappointment. "No shrimp linguine tonight either?"

"Sorry," Professor said without a trace of sympathy. "We don't cater to spoiled brats."

Harry frowned at the words. "Trust me. I'm not spoiled."

The man snorted. "Spoiled and arrogant. Just like your father. Everything you want at the tip of your fingers."

Harry snorted. "Been holding that one in, have you?"

"You've been a conceited prick since the moment we picked you up."

"Oh," Harry said sarcastically. "So sorry I'm not the terrified little hostage you were expecting."

"You have no respect for authority," Professor accused.

Harry snorted. "You are not authority."

"You ditched your detail," Professor clarified.

"He was a stupid prat," Harry retorted.

"He was supposed to keep you safe," the man roared, slamming his hand on the table.

Harry flinched back in shock. Understanding dawning on him. "You didn't expect them to get me."

The man sighed. "Eat your dinner."

Harry bit into his sandwich, chastised into silence. He ate silently for several minutes. Finally, he asked in a quiet voice, "You knew my mum?"

"I did," the man replied tersely.

"What was she like?"

The man was silent and Harry wondered if he would answer. "She was kind and loving and had many friends. But she was always trying to please everyone else."

"Is- was that why she started doing drugs?"

"I have no idea why your mother turned to drugs, Potter. We had not traveled in the same circle for many years when she started dating your father."

"I wondered if his affairs-"

"For all his faults," Professor cut him off, "your father was quite smitten with your mother." Harry heard the scrape of a chair on linoleum and felt the man move around him. "It is my understanding he was faithful to her one hundred percent."

"That's what Sirius said. But, well, he's a bit biased."

"Sirius? Sirius Black?"

Harry bit into his sandwich and nodded. "He's my godfather."

The man snorted. "Of course he is. Thick as thieves, those two," Professor sneered and Harry didn't like the tone.

"You would know," he mumbled.

He jumped when flesh slammed onto the table beside him. He was immediately assaulted by the now familiar scent of mint as soft hair brushed across his cheek. "I. Am. No. Thief," the man hissed in his ear.

Harry turned and felt the man's breath ghost across his cheek. "You kidnapped me. You are holding me for ransom. You are stealing from my father."

"I. Don't. Want. Your. Father's. Filthy. Money."

"Then why are you doing this?"

The man moved away and Harry missed the warmth of his nearness. He felt Professor move behind him and sit down in his vacated chair. "Revenge."

Harry snorted and shoved a chip in his mouth. "Then you are a bigger idiot than Pretty Boy Luke."

"Why?" The tone reminded Harry of a petulant child and he could almost see the man sitting with his arms crossed, lips turned down in a frown.

"What did you wish to accomplish by taking me? You can't bleed him dry. You can't humiliate him."

"I will hurt him," the man said through clenched teeth, "by taking something he loves."

Harry started laughing. He wished he could remove the blindfold to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"What is so funny?" Professor demanded.

"You should have hijacked his plane or yacht, if that was your plan. I'm useless."

"You're his son," the man stated plainly.

"I'm his Big Gay Disappointment. Only allowed out for media presentation, and then only if he has to."

"He'll pay to get you back," He added as if this were an indisputable fact.

Harry shook his head and stuffed another chip in his mouth. "He doesn't even know I'm missing."

"Yes, he does."

That stopped Harry. "Oh. You've spoken to him?"

"Not yet, but-"

Harry shook his head again, making the man pause. "Has there been any media coverage about my disappearance?"

"No. We told them not to alert anyone."

Harry stuffed the last of the sandwich in his mouth. "Then he'll never know. You'll deal with Kingsley. He'll talk to Remus. They'll pay the ransom. My father will never know. However much you're asking won't even make a dent in his assets."

Harry jumped again as flesh once more slapped against the table. "Unacceptable," the man snapped.

Harry shrugged and sipped at his water. "Hey, tomorrow do you think you can bring me a few days worth of crossword puzzles? Looks like I'm going to be here a while and I'm kinda bored."

"How can you act so nonchalant about it?"

"I learned my worth a long time ago, Professor." He reached for his water and took a long drink. "Also, I'd kill for a shower but I can't get my shirt off." He held up his cuffed hands.

The man sighed, "Finish your supper."

That night, Harry listened to Professor and Voldy discuss what Harry had revealed. Then they made a call to Kingsley, demanding to speak to James Potter. Harry sighed. It was going to be weeks before he got out of here.


"Put your blindfold on, brat."

Harry dragged himself from the bed and slipped the blindfold on. "I am yours for the taking, My Prince."

The door opened and Harry was assaulted by a delicious smell.

"Oh my god! Is that pizza?" He headed towards the kitchen. "I could kiss you."

"I'd rather you didn't," Professor said as he led Harry to a chair. "Try to leave a few slices for me, brat."

Harry nodded as he reached out to find the pizza box. He tore off a slice and bit into it. A soft moan slipped from his lips at the familiar taste. "Zabini's. Forget the kiss, Professor. I'd give you a fucking blow job for this."

The man choked at his words but Harry ignored him as he took another bite. A soft sigh of contentment slid from his lips. Amazing. Bloody brilliant. Professor's movements barely registered for Harry as he moved around the room before finally sitting down in his usual seat.

"You have sauce on your cheek, Potter."

"Hmm? Oh." He swiped at his face. "Better?"

the man snorted. "Not even the right cheek. Here, let me."

Harry felt the rough texture of the napkin scrape across his cheek. "Thanks, Professor." He shoved the last bite into his mouth and reached for another.

"You need a shave."

"You offering? Cause I doubt Voldy's gonna let me have a razor."

"I am not a valet, Potter"

Harry leaned over and smirked at him. "But you did such a good job undressing me before."

"Eat your pizza."

Harry happily went back to his dinner. When it was time for Harry to return to the room, Professor grabbed something from the table as they stood and led him to the room.

"Don't move," he said as he stepped past Harry, placed something on the bed and walked from the room.

As soon as the lock snicked into place Harry tore the blindfold off. A plain brown bag sat on the bed. He crossed to the bed and poured the contents out. Another pair of pajama bottoms, clean underpants and t-shirt, a toothbrush, toothpaste and a bar of soap. Heaven. Several newspapers and a pencil fell out as well. He ran back across the room and pressed a hand to the door.

"Thank you, Professor."

He heard the man huff on the other side. "I will obtain a towel for you after the meeting tonight and will be in to remove your shirt for you once the others have left, Potter."

Harry nodded and then remembered the man couldn't see him. "Okay. Thank you."

He crossed back to his pile of treasure and scooped up the toothbrush, paste, and soap and carried it to the bathroom. He then settled down by the door and spread one of the crosswords out beneath him.

"Hey, Professor," Harry called out some time later, "What's a seven letter word for systematic plan?"

"I'm sure, if you were to address the clues of eight or nine down you would be able to determine the correct answer, Potter."

"Git," Harry mumbled and thought he heard a soft chuckle.

The Sunday crossword was spread out in the middle of the floor, pencil abandoned atop it as Harry lay next to the door, listening to the conversation. Pretty Boy was getting anxious. Voldy was getting frustrated. Harry held his hands up and eyed the watch Alistair had given him on his thirteenth birthday. He wasn't Jewish, but Alistair had been and had gifted him with a traditional Moody family Bar Mitzvah gift. It was nothing special, not even digital, a simple analog design with Mickey's gloved hands pointing to the appropriate hour (sometimes), but it had a special meaning to him. He eyed the dials on the side, worn nearly smooth from constant handling, and thought about Professor. The man intrigued him. Harry sighed and lowered his hands.

The trio on the other side of the door finally decided to wait a few more days before making a decision and Harry heard Pretty Boy promise to return in a few hours. Harry rolled across the room and stared down at the crossword puzzle. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door.

"Put your blindfold on, brat."

Harry scrambled to his feet ad slipped the fabric over his eyes. "I'm good."

The door opened and Professor walked in. "Look, Potter, there's no easy way to do this. If I try to take your shirt off I risk knocking your blindfold off. So, against my better judgement, I'm going to trust you. Take your things into the bathroom and I'll un-cuff you. I'll be right outside the door so don't try anything stupid. Once you finish your shower and get redressed put your blindfold on and put your hands out the door so I can re-cuff you. Then you can come back out. think you can handle those instructions?"

Harry nodded, "I appreciate your faith, sir."

"I have a feeling I'm going to regret this. Here," he shoved a towel and Harry's extra clothes into Harry's hands. "Shite." He pulled them back and walked towards the bathroom. He returned a few seconds later. "Your stuff is all in there." He led Harry towards the bathroom. "Hands out, Potter. And I'm warning you-"

"I got it, Professor. No funny business. Will you hold my watch?"

The man grabbed his wrists, "You have ten minutes," he said as the watch was pulled from his wrist.

"Ten minutes! that's hardly enough time for a decent wank and a wash."

"How the hell can you think about sexual gratification, Potter?" Professor yelled. "You're a bloody prisoner."

Harry felt the cuffs fall from his wrists and he rubbed at them. "I'm twenty-five years old and I've been locked up here for almost a week. So unless you're offering..." he reached up and brushed a hand along the man's neck.

Professor jerked back and slapped his hand away, but Harry had caught the hitch in his breath the second before he'd pulled away. "Ten minutes, Potter," he repeated.

He shrugged and stepped back into the bathroom. "I'll try to be quiet," and closed the door. He tore the blindfold off and looked at his hand. He'd actually touched the man. Bloody hell. He'd been soft and warm. Harry moaned to himself. Damn. He quickly stripped and stepped under the shower. It didn't take him long to adjust the temperature of the water and he quickly ran the soap over his body and through his hair. Thoughts of Professor running through his mind. He didn't know why he was so fascinated with the man. Hell, he should have been back in his apartment by now. But the man had intrigued him from the second he'd restrained Harry. Harry remembered the few times Professor's hair had brushed against his face. So soft. Harry bit back a moan as he began to stroke himself. Fuck. Professor was right. He shouldn't be thinking about one of his captors like this. But he didn't feel as if Professor were really a jailer. He knew if it came to it, the man would protect him. He didn't know how he knew, it was a feeling, but Alistair had always told him he had good instincts. There was something about Professor that caused Harry's heart to race. His soft hair brushing against Harry's skin. His familiar minty smell filling Harry's senses. Harry stroked himself faster and gasped as he spilled himself over his hand.

He quickly washed up and used the towel to dry himself before slipping into the clean clothes. He pulled the blindfold over his eyes.

"I'm all done, Professor," He called out.

He heard the door open slightly. "Put your hands out here, Potter."

Harry obeyed and felt the cool metal close around his wrist before Professor put his watch back on him. "I'll get your clothes. Get them cleaned." The door was pushed open and Professor reached past him to gather the towel and dirty clothes.

Harry listened to the man cross the room. "Professor," the steps halted, "I hope I wasn't too loud in the shower." He smirked as the footsteps continued to the door.


Chapter Text

"Professor, what's a nine letter word for Supreme?" It was the middle of his second week and even Harry could feel the tension emanating from the other men. They were getting antsy. Aggravated from the lack of response from James Potter. Well, join the club, fellows, Harry thought.

He heard the man sigh quietly, "I thought you liked doing crossword puzzles?"

Harry took a bite of his taco. "Actually, I'm kind of rubbish at them, but Weasley got me interested in them. Hermione usually helps me for a bit before she pulls it away and finishes it. Cards on the other hand, Poker. Beggar-My-Neighbor. Piquet. I'm aces at all of them. Weasley hated playing with me."

"You mentioned this Weasley to Kingsley. Who is he?"

"He was one of my bodyguards."

"One you ditched? Get him fired too?" Harry could hear the ice in Professor's voice.

"Actually, Ron is the only one I never ditched. He got me. I respected that."

Professor shifted in his seat, as if turning to face Harry. "Why'd he get pulled from your detail then?"

Harry froze, taco half way to his mouth. Sickness washed over him as he was assaulted by memories. He dropped the uneaten food and pushed his chair back. "I'm ready to return to my room, Professor. I'm no longer hungry."

"Harry?" He heard the question in the man's voice. Harry shook his head and backed towards the room. He ran into the edge of the counter and turned around, shaking hands searching for the door knob. "Harry," the voice called from down a long tunnel. The knob slipped from his sweaty palms twice before he finally managed to push the door open and stumble inside. He slammed the door shut and leaned against it, tearing the blindfold from his eyes. The screams washed over him and he raced to the bathroom, dropping to his knees in time for the retching to take over his body.

He had no idea how long he sat there, sickening his guts into the toilet, sobs wracking his body. A cup was forced into his hands and he rinsed his mouth out. A cold flannel was placed against his face and Professor lifted him, carrying him to the bed. He lay there, shivering as Professor ran a comforting hand over his back. His voice was soft against his neck when he finally spoke, "You told Kingsley you wanted Weasley back. So he's alive?"

Harry nodded. "He was injured. Two years ago. He's only just started taking on assignments again." Harry pulled himself up, careful to keep his eyes averted from Professor. His blindfold appeared in front of him.

"Tell me about him," the soft voice encouraged and Harry at once realized how close he had come to falling for this man in such a short time, a dim thought in his dark mind. He took the offered blindfold and slipped it on before turning and scooting back on the bed, his back against the cold concrete wall.

"When I was getting ready to go to Uni my father and I got into a huge row. I didn't want to be followed about by some big hulking bodyguard, but he said I needed protection since I clearly couldn't protect myself." Harry scoffed at the memory. "Kingsley stepped in, said he knew a family that had a son about my age, was getting a football scholarship to the same uni I had been accepted to."

"Mr. Weasley," Professor guessed.

Harry nodded. "He was brilliant. Aces at chess. A real strategist. I can't tell you how many stupid publicity appearances he got me out of. He even got along with 'Mione and that's not easy."

" 'Mione?"

"Hermione. We were at Charterhouse together. Same house and everything. She's pretty smart. Would have been a Gownboy if they still sorted that way. Anyway, she can be right annoying when she gets on a tangent but Ron was able to handle her. The three of us got pretty close, but Ron never forgot his job." Harry sat, lost in thought. The hand on his arm brought him back.

"So what happened," the soft voice encouraged.

"Bloody fucking Malfoy," Harry spat venomously. There was a sharp gasp beside him but it didn't register as Harry saw only red. "He was a student at Charterhouse, too. Fucking Daviesite. Now there was a spoiled prat. 'My daddy this' and 'My Father that.' Thought he was better than everyone. He didn't have friends. You were either a follower or a victim."

"I take it you were not a follower?"

Harry snorted. "Not bloody likely. Hermione was a sponsored student. Malfoy didn't like that, Old Money that he is. He called her some names. I kicked his arse. I made the football team, he didn't. A great grandfather was one of the original Stoke Ramblers, at least that's what he said. So, yeah, it pissed him off I made the team when he didn't. Things like that all through school. Our third year at uni Malfoy transferred in. It was Charter all over again, only this time he had a couple of henchmen. Crabbe and Goyle. Near the end of that year, Hermione had gotten heavily involved in the theatre program. They were getting ready for some production or other and needed props stored at a warehouse just off campus. Ron and I went to help her look through it. The Menace and his goons followed us, cornered us in the warehouse. I don't even really remember everything. There were words, shoving. Crabbe with his ever-present fag hanging from his lips. Something got spilt. Paint thinner, I think. Anyway, the fag went down and the warehouse went up." Harry took a deep breath remembering the acrid smell. "I tripped, got caught under a wardrobe or something. 'Mione got out okay but I was Ron's responsibility. He came back for me, got me out. Then Crabbe showed up. Decided to finish the argument. In the middle of a fucking warehouse fire, the bloody fucking arsehole thought it was a good idea to have a fucking fist fight. I think a- a beam or something," he shook his head trying to clear the image of the burning wood falling towards them. "I don't know, fell on them. The firemen were there by then. Hermione had her phone out the second she was safe. One pulled me out. By the time they got Ron he was covered in third degree burns. Broken leg in two places. I paid his hospital and rehab bills, he was more than just a bodyguard by that point. He was my best mate."

"And the others?" Professor said after a minute of silence. "Malfoy?"

The laugh that escaped Harry's lips was harsh, bitter. "The bloody fucking coward was the first one out of there. That came back to bite him in the arse, though."

"How so?"

"Caught him on camera, fleeing the scene like a guilty rat. His father ended up paying for the damages. But their money was tied up in property, they didn't have much disposable income, I'm told. I heard it hit the family pretty hard and Malfoy got kicked out of uni. I feel bad for his parents though. Worthless prat for a son, ended up bleeding them dry."

"And the other two? Goyle?"

Harry shrugged, "Got kicked out of uni, that's all I know."

"Crabbe?" the name was a whisper, almost as if the man knew the effect it would have on Harry.

Harry didn't even make it to the bathroom before he was on all fours, heaving. Nothing came up though. There was nothing left. He felt Professor's hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles. He gulped for air. "I was there, when they brought his body out. I don't think they would have had it uncovered if they'd known I was still there. But I'm not allowed to speak to the police without a lawyer present. Potter Rule number one. Kingsley had gone to the hospital with Ron and Remus showed up a bit later. So I was still giving my statement when they brought him out." Harry felt the wet fabric against his face and tore it off. "He was black and so, so unrecognizable. God, no one deserves that. No one deserves to die like that, Professor. They had Ron in a coma for weeks and he still groaned in agony when the drugs wore off. I heard him. I was there. I can't even begin to imagine- having your flesh burned from your body. I- I went to the funeral, just, you know. I felt I had to. His mum didn't know me. I told her I was an acquaintance from school. She said it was nice someone showed up. He led him to his death and fucking Malfoy didn't even have the nerve to go to his fucking funeral." Harry let the sobs wrack his body. He wasn't sure at what point Professor pulled him down, resting his head in the man's lap. Harry fell asleep with the feel of long fingers stroking his hair.


Harry woke up disoriented, his eyes feeling gritty. He rubbed at them and groaned as he remembered the previous night. Damn. He hadn't talked about that night since it had happened. What was it about Professor that had Harry spilling his guts? Harry rolled over and spotted the blindfold and two uneaten tacos on the nightstand. Thankful for the man's thoughtfulness he grabbed for the tacos and stuffed them in his mouth. Between loosing his dinner and the emotional storm last night he was starving. Once he had finished off the second taco he made his way to the bathroom and splashed cool water on his face before brushing his teeth and using the loo. As usual, he left the bathroom light on and stepped over to the door. He heard mumbles so he lowered himself to the floor and listened.

"I don't like it at all, Tom," Pretty Boy was saying.

"You wanted this just as much as I did, Lucius," Raspy Voice replied.

"The bloody bastard doesn't give a damn about the kid at all," Luke/Lucius said. "It's been over a week and he refuses to talk to us."

"Kingsley's lying. Potter is probably on his way back from wherever he was."

Harry highly doubted that. Ski season was coming up. Father needed a decent tan before he hit the slopes.

"No. Kingsley said Potter refuses to pay the ransom. He said it was too much," Luke/Lucius whined.

"They're negotiating," Raspy Voice Tom said offhandedly.

No. His dad didn't negotiate. It was James Potter's conditions or nothing. And Harry was always the nothing. They argued for several more minutes before Tom "Raspy Voice" Death Wish sent Luke "Pretty Boy" Lucius away. Harry finally stood and threw on the light before grabbing the crossword Professor had left the previous day.


"Blindfold, Harry."

Harry's heart caught at the sound of his name on Professor's lips. "Wait. I need a nine letter word for Corrupted."

Harry heard the exasperated sigh through the door. "Debauched."

Harry smiled. "Ooh. That sounds fun," he filled in the letters and grabbed the blindfold. "Okay, I'm ready."

The door opened and Harry walked towards it, holding his hands out. He felt Professor's long fingers wrap around his arm and lead him to the table. He settled in and found the fish and chips right away.

"I thought you could use some comfort food. After last night," Professor explained.

Harry smiled softly at the man. "Thanks, Professor. I- I'm sorry about that."

He felt a hand cover his. "No. It's okay, Harry. It must have been a traumatic experience."

Harry nodded and took a bite of his fish. "I haven't really talked about it with anyone."

"Not even your therapist?" Professor asked as Harry heard the familiar sound of him settling back in his chair.

Harry snorted. "Therapist? Just cause I'm a rich kid doesn't mean I go to therapy."

He could hear the smirk in Professor's voice when he spoke. "I thought all you spoiled rich kids had therapists."

Harry waved a chip in his direction. "I thought I told you I wasn't spoiled. Besides, Father doesn't think I need a therapist." Harry lowered his voice in a fair imitation of his fathers, " 'You do nothing but sit on your arse all day, Harry. What do you have to complain to a bloody therapist about? If you need advice talk to Sirius, that's what godfathers are for. If it's school, talk to Remus.' Ah, thank you Father. Ever so helpful." He went back to his fish and chips.

After a stretch of silence, Professor finally spoke. "When's the last time you saw your father, Harry?"

Harry was taken back by the tender tone in the man's question. "In person?"


Harry shrugged as he took a bite of chip and reached for his water. "I think right after the fire. Father likes to be involved in all litigation."

"You mean you haven't seen your father in almost two years?"

Harry thought for a moment and nodded. "Sounds about right."


"Oh, don't start feeling sorry for me, Professor. I have Remus and Kingsley and 'Mione. And Ron when I get him back."

The man cleared his throat and Harry went back to his dinner. Once he was finished, Professor led him back into the room and reached for his wrists.

"I thought you might like a shower."

"That sounds wonderful, Professor," Harry sighed. "You know, you could leave the cuffs on and join me."

Harry could almost hear the man roll his eyes as he unlocked the cuffs and pushed a bundle into his arms. "I washed your clothes from last week."

"How utterly domestic, Professor," Harry purred.

The man pushed him towards the bathroom, "Ten minutes, Potter."

"I'll try to keep the noise down," Harry teased as the door was closed behind him. He tugged the blindfold off and set the clothes and towel on the toilet, placing his watch between the shirt and pants so it wouldn't get wet. He stepped under the warm shower, thoughts racing through his mind. He knew it was almost time to go home, but how could he keep Professor safe? Was there a way to protect the man he had come to care for? He washed quickly and redressed in the clean clothes.

"I'm done, Professor," he called out as he slid the blindfold on.

The door opened. "Hands." He held his hands out and the cuffs slid around his wrists. "Come here, Potter." Professor led him to the middle of the room and his knees hit something hard. "Sit."

He used his hands to guide himself into the chair and sat. He felt the other man move around him and something bumped against the back of his chair.

"You may take your blindfold off but do not look behind you," Professor encouraged.

Harry tentatively reached up and pulled off the blindfold. He was sitting in a wooden chair, one from the kitchen most likely, and the nightstand had been pulled across the floor.

"I find these evenings tedious, Potter," Professor drawled. "And since you claim to be an adequate card player, I took the liberty of procuring a deck. If you agree to avoid looking at me-"

"Oh, absolutely, Professor. Yes!" Harry agreed quickly.

The man's soft chuckle reverberated through Harry. A second later Harry heard the distinct sound of cards being shuffled. The next few hours seemed to fly by for Harry. They played piquet and begger-my-neighbor and talked about inconsequential things. Harry knew to avoid anything that might reveal Professor's actual identity. So they talked about music (they both enjoyed the classics), the theatre (Professor enjoyed operas while Harry preferred Broadway), books (crime novels for both), and even television (Harry enjoyed serials while Professor preferred documentaries). During the evening, Harry kept snatching glances at long fingers and pale skin. the nails were meticulously groomed and the fingers moved with a practiced dexterity. Harry could almost imagine them moving over his body, glistening with oil as they slid- fuck! He was going to have to wank over the toilet. Not something he'd done in years.

"We should call it a night, Harry. Luke will be here soon."

Harry was pulled from his fantasy and nodded. "Okay. Thanks for- everything. The shower. The cards. The conversation." He pulled the blindfold on. "It was... nice."

Professor seemed to hesitate, "Go sit on the bed, Harry. I need to put the furniture back."

Harry nodded and moved over to the bed and sat down. He listened as the nightstand was scooted back across the floor and the chairs were dragged out. There was more movement around the room and Harry assumed the man had gone to gather up his dirty clothes.

"Good night, Potter," Professor said from beside the door.

"Professor," Harry called after him. There was no movement so Harry assumed the man was waiting for him to speak. "I'm sorry I got caught."

There was a soft sigh. "Me too, Harry. Me too."


Chapter Text

They spent Friday night playing cards again. At one point, Harry had to physically restrain himself from reaching out and stroking those long fingers. He occasionally caught a glimpse of black hair as well. Harry remembered the feel of it brushing against his cheek. The man was intelligent, snarky, with a dry sense of humor. As the night ended and Professor went to gather the cards, Harry finally reached across the table to wrap his hands around the other man's. He expected the man to pull away and was pleasantly surprised when he didn't. They sat there, holding hands for several minutes.

Professor's hoarse voice finally broke the silence. "I have to go, Harry. He'll be here soon."

Harry nodded and pulled away, grabbing the blindfold and sliding it on. He stood and crossed to the bed while Professor put the furniture back.


Saturday afternoon, Harry lay by the door listening to the men argue on the other side of the door. Pretty Boy wanted to let him go and cut their losses. Voldy wasn't willing to give up yet. Tomorrow would be his third Sunday. He glanced at his watch. He wasn't ready to give up on Professor yet. He pulled himself up and grabbed the cards from the nightstand. He settled onto the bed and dealt out a hand of patience.


"Put your blindfold on, brat."

Harry gathered up the cards and shoved them under the pillow before sliding the blindfold on. "Enter, My Prince."

The door opened and Harry slid from the bed and crossed the room. Professor grabbed his arm. "Not alone," he hissed quietly and he pushed him towards the kitchen table, pressing him down into the chair. "Eat," he said gruffly.

Harry could almost taste the tension in the air as he reached out and found the burger. "Dissension among the ranks, Captain?"

"Shut up."

Harry turned his head towards the voice. "Oh, how pleasant. The entire family is here," he deadpanned.

Harry bit into the juicy burger. Mmm. Better than the last one.

Raspy Voice finally spoke. "When you are done eating, you will call your father."

Harry licked the juice from his pinky slowly, savoring the delicious flavor. "Can't." He took another bite.

"What do you mean, you can't?"

"Don't have his number." Another bite.

The man across from him growled. "Then how do you get in touch with him?"

"I don't." Harry said simply.

A hand slammed down onto the table. "Dammit, boy."

"Harry," Professor said, his voice full of warning.

Harry sighed and put his burger down. "Look, if I need something I go to Remus. If my father needs to talk to me he calls me, usually via satellite."

"And what if you need something from your father?" Raspy Voice growled slowly.

"What would I ever need from him? I told you, Remus takes care of what I need. If there's no media coverage or a way for publicity my dad doesn't get-"

"The media has been alerted," Professor cut in softly.

Harry felt the bottom drop from his stomach. "How long?"

"It's been in the papers for a week," Professor said.

Harry nodded. "Has my father responded?"

"A statement was issued-"

"Has James Potter stepped in front of the camera to issue a statement?" Harry knew he'd just yelled at his captors but couldn't find the energy to care.

"No," came Professor's soft answer.

Harry stood and pushed away from the table. "Then I'm sorry, gentlemen. You have wasted all of our time." He walked back towards his room and closed the door before crossing to the bed. He pulled the blindfold off and sat down, staring down to where his fingers unconsciously toyed with his watch. He had waited too long. He hadn't followed the plan and this was his punishment. His father was letting him know he was done with him, finally washing his hands of his Biggest Disappointment. He didn't know how long he sat staring sightlessly at his watch before there was a knock on the door.

"Put your blindfold on, brat," the words were soft, tender.

Harry obeyed. "Okay, Professor."

The door opened and the man crossed the room. "If I'm going to continue being your room service I expect a tip," Harry smiled wanly at the teasing tone, but couldn't find the energy to reply. The bed dipped as he sat down and laid a comforting hand on Harry's back. "Is it as bad as all that, Harry?"

"Are they gone?"

"Yes. They will be back tomorrow to decide where to go from here."

Harry clutched desperately at the man and grabbed his shirt. "You have to get out of here, Professor. You have to wipe every trace you were here and go."

"I can't leave you here. Harry. I won't leave you to the mercies of those men. You don't know them." His hand slid from Harry's back to pry the fingers from his shirt and placed Harry's hand in his own lap.

"You don't understand," Harry pleaded. "My father has disowned me. There was a Plan. I shouldn't have even made it to the van. But I didn't follow protocol. Not then. Not in the van. Not any of these last weeks. I didn't play my part and now he's disowned me. James Potter has Rules, and if you don't play them, you are no use to him. I've been skirting the line for years, this was the final excuse he needed. If Remus, 'Mione, Ron, and Kingsley want me back they'll do a rescue mission. It's their only option. I can't let you go down with those men. You aren't like them."

He felt Professor move and stand up, "How can say that, Harry? You don't know me."

"I know you've taken care of me. Fed me, let me take showers, kept me entertained. I know you're smart, sarcastic, funny. I think my dad must have really pissed you off in the past; welcome to the club, by the way. But I think you and my mum must have been close at some point. Why else would you take care of me? I know you fascinate me. I know I want to know you better, But if you get caught, that can't happen."

"I helped kidnap you. I helped hold you hostage," Professor said desperately.

Harry stood and made his way over to where Professor was pacing. He reached out and grabbed him, stopping him in his tracks. He moved his hands, feeling his way up the man's torso, over his chest, and up his neck until he could feel the man's rapid pulse beat beneath his fingers. "You were protecting me." He pushed himself up and his lips connected to Professor's. The man gasped in surprise and Harry seized the opportunity to press his tongue inside the man's mouth. Professor held himself stiff as Harry's lips moved over his soft mouth, his tongue stroking the older man's. Professor moaned into his mouth and grabbed Harry's arms and pulled him closer, taking over the kiss as his mouth and tongue came alive against Harry. Moving over Harry's, thrusting into his mouth, nipping at his lips. He pulled back, panting.

"We can't. You need- you need to eat."

Harry listened as Professor's steps walked quickly from the room. He ripped off the blindfold and tossed it to the floor in frustration. Fuck! Dammit! Shite!


"Put your blindfold on, brat."

Harry reached for the fabric and slipped it over his head. "Come into my parlor, said the spider to-"

The door slammed open and heavy footsteps thudded across the room. Thin, bony fingers dragged him from the bed. "Oh, hello, Pretty Boy."

"Shut up," the man growled as he dragged him from the room. He hauled Harry into the kitchen and pushed him into a chair. "You said you could get us into your father's mansion."

Harry smiled to himself. He'd known they'd eventually come back to this. Now was his chance to get Professor out of here, keep him safe. He shook his head. "I could have, before you delivered the ransom note. Once they had confirmation that I had been taken, extra security measures were put in place. If I so much as step foot on the estate that place will be surrounded by cops in five minutes."

There was a growl of frustration to his right.

"What about Black?" Raspy Voice said through what sounded like gritted teeth.

"He won't pay a ransom, either," Harry told him. "He'd never go against my father's wishes."

"Dammit! I did not go through all this just to come out empty handed."

"Calm down, Pretty Boy. You fellows are over-looking one more option."

"What?" Pretty Boy said, sounding almost desperate.

Harry gave them his "Media-winning" smile. "Me."


Harry was sure he was the only one who heard the soft gasp.

"What are you talking about, Boy," Raspy Voice demanded.

Hook. Line. And sinker. Harry bit back a self-congratulatory smile. "I have my own apartment and it's not guarded as well as my father's estate."

"We're not stupid, boy." Pretty Boy bit out and Harry had to hold back a scoff. "It'll be watched."

Harry shook his head. "Not like the estate. It's in Soho. An apartment building. Lots of people in and out. I'll give you the address, you can check it out, see for yourself. I'll give you the code to get in. I've got two safes. One in the study, one in the bedroom upstairs. You'll have at least fifteen minutes before the alarm company realizes it was my apartment that was entered. Protocol states they inform Kingsley directly instead of the police."

"How do we know it's not a set up?"

"Aren't you the clever one, Pretty Boy?"

"Shut. Up."

"Do you want me to talk or shut up?" Harry asked innocently.

"Luke, sit down. This is our last chance. Talk, boy."

Harry nodded, "Yes. let the adults talk. You can tie me up," he continued, ignoring the spluttering noises coming from Pretty Boy, "hands behind my back like before. Or cuff me to the bed. Whatever. Leave me here. If you don't take me I can't attempt to escape. I have to wait here for you to return. Then you can take me and drop me off somewhere. Or keep me in the van. Insurance."

"Take him back to his room," Raspy Voice ordered.

Long fingers wrapped around his arm and pulled him up. "Harry," Professor hissed.

"Trust me," he whispered back as Professor pushed him into the room and closed the door. Harry dropped to the floor and closed his eyed, smiling.


"Put it on, Harry."

Harry immediately obeyed the angry tone and barely had the fabric over his eyes before the door flew open. Professor grabbed his arm and shook him. "What are you playing at, Potter?"

"I'm trying to rescue us both," Harry hollered back. He took a breath and continued in a calmer tone, "I have a plan. I can get you out of here. No one ever has to know you were involved. Just wipe your prints from the house."

Professor growled in frustration. "My prints are all over this house, Potter. I lived here for a year."

"Even better. If they find any stray prints they can be explained away. When did you move out?"

"Six months ago," Professor answered, calmer now. "How are you going to get out of here after they are captured? I assume that is the plan."

Harry nodded. "Yes. And don't worry about me."

Professor shook him, "Dammit, Potter. What if I betray you? What if I tell them it's all a trap?"

Harry leaned closer, inhaling the familiar minty scent. "You won't. You want out of this as much as I do. You regret getting involved in this. I know you do."

"Damn you, Harry," but the whispered words held no conviction. "How can you read me so well?" Warm lips crushed down on Harry's and he savored the feel of them as they moved across his. Harry pressed his body against Professor's and opened his mouth for the man. Tongues clashed as they fought for dominance. Professor finally pulled back, panting, "Will you look for me?"

"If you want me to," Harry whispered against the warm lips.


"You'll find a way to let me know. You're smart, Professor."

Professor sighed and pulled back, Harry missed the warm breath. "Come eat. Luke will be back soon for his shift."

That surprised Harry. "Already?"

"We are changing the shifts around. My work schedule is changing. We had to rearrange."


Harry finished his cold tacos just as Pretty Boy returned. He demanded the address before Professor locked him in his room. Harry lay down by the door.

"We'll check it out tomorrow and talk about it," Pretty Boy said. "Do you think it's a trap?"

"I don't know, Luke. The kid's a spoiled brat. Thinks the world revolves around him. Probably never had to lift a finger in his life. I doubt he's smart enough to even think about a plan," Professor snarled.

"Yeah. You're probably right. Little Dragon always said he was a dunderhead."

"There you go," Professor said as if that settled it.

Harry wondered who Little Dragon was. He fiddled with the band of his watch and listened as the conversation drifted on to other topics. He tapped the face of his watch. Soon.


"Get on the bed and close your eyes, Harry."

Harry obeyed the odd order. "Okay, Professor."

The door opened and Harry was tempted to open his eyes. "Keep them closed, Harry." Harry smiled as Professor closed the distance. There was the sound of plastic rustling and then Professor's hands were on his face. Harry had to squeeze his eyes tight to keep from opening them. He felt warm breath on his ear. "I can't wait to see the color of your eyes."

"I can't wait to see you," Harry answered.

"Then you'll just have to make sure you find me." A shiver went down Harry's spine as Professor kissed his ear, his jaw, and finally his lips. It was a soft, quick kiss that left Harry wanting more. "I brought you Chinese. I have a house to wipe down."

"Don't make it too obvious. Kingsley is good," Harry warned.


Harry waited for the door to close before he opened his eyes, Professor's kiss lingering on his lips and skin.


Chapter Text

"Put your blindfold on, brat."

Harry smiled at the familiar words. "And what if I say no?"

"Then you won't get your surprise."

Harry chuckled and slid the fabric over his head. "Okay, Professor."

The door opened as he slid from the bed and walked towards Professor. Professor's hand wrapped around his wrist and lips touched lips for a split second.

"Mmm. I like that surprise," Harry murmured. The man chuckled. "You're wearing gloves," Harry noticed.

"I put them on as soon as I was alone. After all my hard work last night I didn't want to take any chances. Come on." He led Harry to the kitchen table and set him down. He covered Harry's hands when he tried to reach out. "No. Just wait." Curious, Harry nodded his understanding and waited patiently. He could feel Professor sit down, heard soft sounds he couldn't identify and an enticing aroma filled the air around him, like garlic and basil. "Open up," Professor demanded when Harry felt a slight pressure on his bottom lip.

Harry opened his mouth and a forkful of food was pressed in. He closed his lips around the familiar flavor and the fork was pulled out. Harry moaned as he chewed the delicious food.

"God, Professor. That's amazing," he said when he had swallowed.

The man chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm all out of Muscadet and mousse so you'll have to settle on the linguini."

"I'd settle for lasagna, if it meant you feeding me."

"Be quiet, brat." Another forkful was pushed into his mouth and Harry closed his lips around it.

"They're going to do it, aren't they?" he asked when his mouth was empty.

"Yes," Professor answered quietly as he fed Harry.

"You need to take the safe in the study," he told the man.

"Ri- Voldemort wants Luke with me."

Harry swallowed another bite and reached for the water. He took a sip. "Open the safe, give him the jewels from there, then send him to help Voldy. Or to search the other bedroom. Bottom drawer of the desk is a white envelope with a 'B' on it."

"Plan B, Harry? Really?"

Harry chuckled as he nodded. He took another bite. "There's five thousand in the envelope. Use it to lay low for a bit. There's also a car key. It goes to a white VW Golf. Small, nondescript. It won't be reported as stolen, so you'll have to abandon it somewhere it'll be noticed." He took another sip.

"And how long do I have for all of this?"

"Five minutes." He tried to close his mouth around the fork on his lips but it was pulled back.

"Harry, I'll never get the safe opened and Luke out of the room with enough time to get out of there. I'll be caught in the hallway," Professor demanded.

Harry shook his head. "There's a number on the back of the envelope. Step into the coat closet and behind the garment bag is a door. Enter the code. It's an escape route that leads to a set of stairs. The car is to the left of the stair exit. No one knows it's even there."

The man let out a low whistle. "Damn, Harry. I thought you said Hermione should have been the Gownboy."

Harry smirked. "Oh, I would have been sorted that way too. I just don't let it be known. So much easier to play the dunderheaded heir."

"Finish your dinner," Professor told him with a soft chuckle.

"Can I touch you?" Harry asked softly. He reached his hands out and Professor grabbed them, guiding them to his knee before placing another forkful in Harry's mouth. Harry's hands rested on the jean-clad leg. He slowly inched his fingers up, feeling the muscular thighs beneath his fingers. Professor was thin, but the muscles were strong as they twitched beneath his fingers. His fingers continued up. Professor's breathing became ragged and the fork no longer made it to Harry's mouth. Harry slid from the chair and fell to his knees, his hands sliding up Professor's leg.

"Harry," the man moaned a warning.

His fingers danced up the man's hips and across his stomach. "Professor," the breathy moan slipped from his lips.

Harry was yanked up, Professor's lips crushing to his. Their tongues once again battled for dominance as they gasped for breath in each other's mouths. Harry was in an awkward position, still on his knees yet stretched up to meet the welcoming mouth, all he could do was clutch at the man's shirt. Professor's hands were all over him, sliding in his hair, over his back, desperately trying to pull Harry closer. Professor stood, pulling Harry to his feet. He guided Harry backwards to the room, their lips still frantic on each other. Harry bumped into the wall and Professor pressed against him, their hard erections rubbing against each other through their clothes. Professor's lips pulled back, his tongue licking at Harry's lips. He kissed his way down to Harry's neck and nibbled on the exposed flesh. Professor's smooth skin rubbed against Harry's stubble sending waves of pleasure down his body. Harry slid his hands down, grasping at Professor's jeans. The sound of the zipper echoed around the kitchen and Harry slid his hand down the man's pants. He moaned as flesh met flesh and he wrapped his fingers around the velvet hardness.

Professor gasped and pulled away, slipping from Harry's hand. "Wait. We can't do this."

"Fuck, Professor. Don't do this to me," Harry banged his head back against the wall.

"It's wrong, Harry. I'm your- jailer. Your guard."

"Not for much longer. This time tomorrow we'll both be free."

"Then we can wait until you find me."

"And what if I don't?" Harry said exasperated. Frustrated with want. "What if you decide I was just some kid trying to pass the time? Entertain myself."

"Are you?" Harry heard the uncertainty in the man's voice.

"No, dammit. I told you, you fascinate me. I want to get to know you. I want you." He emphasized the last sentence.

"I don't want some some Stockholm-like devotion from you, Harry."

Harry scoffed. "Stockholm Syndrome, Professor? From what? A couple of showers and some games of cards." He pushed from the wall and walked into the room. Professor followed and he turned to face the man even thought he couldn't see him. "You don't know me. You don't know what I'm capable of. Do you know why my dad refuses to pay the ransom?" Harry spat out in an accusatory tone.

"N-no," Professor answered, as if afraid to hear the answer.

Harry walked over to the bed and felt for the soft surface before he sat down. "Because I shouldn't be here. I didn't follow protocol."

"That's the second time you've mentioned that, Harry. But Luke had a gun on you," he explained gently.

Harry laughed. "He wasn't going to shoot me. I doubt the safety was even off. I could have overpowered him easily enough. I could have overpowered both of you at the very beginning."

Harry heard Professor sigh. "Then why didn't you?"

Harry shrugged. "I told you. You fascinate me. I knew you were different from Pretty Boy. I needed to know what it was about you. Why I was drawn to you. Curiosity. I could have left anytime I wanted but I chose to stay. To learn about you."

It was Professor's turn to sound exasperated. "Harry, you were locked in here. There's no way you could have escaped. Voldemort was very thorough in his plans."

Harry shook his head. "Pretty Boy doesn't take the key out of the lock at night. He falls asleep by two a.m. every night. I'm on the ground floor of a two level house. A gravel drive half a mile from the main road. We're twenty minutes east of London, not quite to Chelmsford but almost. On foot, the A12 is ten minutes south," he turned and pointed the correct direction. He held up the hand with his watch. "I didn't have a nanny growing up, Professor. I had a bodyguard. Alistair Moody."

Harry caught the slight gasp. "Moody? MI5 and MI6 agent? The queen's personal choice for protective detail?"

Harry nodded. "I told you I met Princess Eugenie. Alistair was an old family friend and he would come visit often. His idea of taking me for ice cream was tying me up, blindfold me, and tossing me in the trunk of his car. He'd drive around London for what seemed like hours before letting me out. If I could tell him where we were, I could get whatever kind I wanted. If not, I only got plain vanilla." Harry made a face. "I hate vanilla ice cream."

Professor chuckled and Harry felt the bed dip as the man sat beside him. "So you could have left anytime?"

"Yes. I was going to leave last week but I've been trying to figure out how to keep you out of it."

He felt long fingers in his hair. "And you came up with this idiotic Plan B." He'd removed the gloves at some point and his warm fingers threaded the fine hairs.

"It's my escape plan B. For media or intruders or just whatever. It's something Ron and I had discussed years ago. But I want you to take it. If you decide you want to walk away and not look back I'll accept it. I won't try to find you if you don't want me to. But I'll never forget you, Professor," Harry reassured him.

"What about you, Harry?" Professor's voice was filled with concern. "It will take the police forever to go through all of Ri- Voldemort's properties to locate you."

Harry smirked at the man. "Don't worry about me, Professor. I have Plan A. I'll be out of here a half hour after you leave. Maybe an hour. I want to give you plenty of time to get away from the flat."

"You're an amazing young man, Harry Potter." He felt the air ghost across his lips the second before Professor claimed him again. It was soft, promising, and Harry wanted more. He reached up and began unbuttoning Professor's shirt, the feel of warm skin and soft curls against his knuckles. He shifted and Professor pushed him back down on the bed, sliding his hands under Harry's t-shirt. Professor kissed his way down Harry's throat, pushed the shirt up and latched onto a nipple. Harry bucked beneath him.


Harry felt the brush of his hand as his fingers skimmed down Harry's torso and slid under the elastic of his pants. Long fingers danced against his hip bone and Harry bucked, threading his fingers through the man's hair. With his blindfold on, Harry's world became touch and sound. The feel of Professor's fingers on his skin, his mouth on his nipple. The sound of his own heavy breathing, the small sucking noises Professor made as he drew Harry's nipple into his mouth.

"Please. Oh, Professor, you're torturing me."

The hand finally slipped under the fabric and skimmed across hot flesh. Harry bucked as fingers curled around him. He felt Professor's fingers glide over the pre-come moistened tip.

"Oh, fuck, Professor."

Professor pulled his mouth from Harry's nipple. "No. But I will taste."

Harry felt the man move down his body and pulled on his pants. Harry lifted his hips and the clothes came off. He felt silky strands tease along his thighs and then Professor's tongue slid up Harry's length.

"Professor." He bucked and strong hands pressed him into the mattress as Professor's mouth closed over him. Harry reached down and pushed his fingers through silky hair as the hot mouth moved down his length. He moaned as Professor's tongue traced over his head, down his length. He hit the back of his throat on a gasp and kept going, Professor swallowing him deep, sucking on him. He writhed beneath the man as his balls were enclosed in warm flesh, thin fingers playing him like a piano. "Professor! Oh, fuck. Oh, yes." Harry was lost in a torrent of passion as he was licked and laved, sucked and swallowed. Pulled deep into the man between his legs. Filthy sounds echoed around the room as Professor sucked and licked at him. The vibration of a moan had Harry bucking violently with please and more and oh, sweet jesus before his entire body was pulled taut. "Pro-Professor. I-I'm Oh, fuck." His hips bucked as his seed filled Professor's mouth and the man swallowed it down. Harry gasped for air as his body twitched.

He finally felt his limp cock slide from Professor's mouth and the man moved up his body. His mouth covered Harry's and Harry moaned at the taste of himself mixed with Professor. His bound hands moved down Professor's body, glad to note the man's jeans were still undone. Harry pulled back, "Let me taste you."

"No," Professor gasped. "Not while you are cuffed and blindfolded. Not while you are my prisoner."

Harry ran his fingers over the bulge, "Then at least let me feel you come in my hands."

The man seemed to hesitate before Harry felt the nod. "Okay."

The movements were awkward, but somehow they managed. With Professor over him, pressing himself into Harry's hands. Harry's lips on his neck as his fingers moved over Professor's swollen cock, squeezing, teasing, pulling. Within seconds Professor was gasping, moaning his name. "Harder, Harry, Please. Yes," Harry tightened his grip and moved his hands rapidly up and down the leaking cock. "Ah. Oh, Harry. Yes." Harry felt the cock throb in his hand as warm liquid spread across his belly. Professor collapsed beside him.

"Gi-give me a mi-minute," Professor panted.

Harry nodded his understanding and lay beside the man, a goofy grin plastered on his face. Eventually, Professor climbed over him and slipped from the bed. He listened as the man moved around in the kitchen, ran the sink, and come back. Warm flannel moved across his belly as Professor cleaned him up.

"A sponge bath, Professor? Now I know I'm in heaven," Harry teased.

"Hush up, brat," but he could hear the smile in the man's voice. "The bed spread and your pants will need to be washed. Just in case Kingsley decides to check for bodily fluids."

Harry nodded. It would be just like Kingsley to do that. "Don't forget to take all the things you brought me. Shampoo, toothpaste, the cards."

"I'll take them tonight. I also brought your original clothes. You can change into your pants while I put these things on to wash."

Harry nodded and stood from the bed. Professor helped him out of the pants and pressed a soft kiss to Harry's lips. Long fingers trailed down his arm and paused at his wrists. "If I'd had the key, tonight would have been better."

Harry twisted his hand and snatched Professor's fingers "It was better than I imagined. Thank you."

"Get changed, I'll be right back and we can play piquet."

Harry nodded and waited for the door to close. This time tomorrow he'd be home.


Harry was a patient person, Alistair had taught him that. He waited through the night for Luke and Voldy to arrive. He waited while they took down the key codes and combinations. He waited while Luke cuffed his hands behind his back and pushed him onto the bed. He waited as the lock made the familiar snick and smiled to himself when the man actually remembered to pull the key from the lock.

He waited as the movements around the house quieted, the sound of a vehicle fading into the distance. And then he waited some more. He whistled one of his favorite tunes. Wondered whose speech would be the longest, Kingsley's or Hermione's. He wondered if Ron had been pulled in on the job and if Robards had been fired or simply reassigned. He recalled the feel of Professor over him, on him, gasping his name. Well, that was uncomfortable with his hands behind his back. He thought it might have been long enough and waited some more. At the forty-five minute mark he twisted his fingers to fiddle with the band of his watch. Twisting the watch so he could easily reach the dials, he pulled one out, gave it a half turn and pushed it back in. Plan A. Alistair. And he waited.


Chapter Text

The helicopters arrived first. Heat scan. All clear, except one living body in the back of the house. Harry could almost hear the static-y conversation. He counted the vehicles as they pulled up to the house. One. Two. Three. A tactical van? Really, Kingsley? Was that even necessary? He heard the doors slamming, muffled yelling. The front doors banging open would have startled him if he hadn't been expecting it. He rolled over to face the door. Seconds later he heard it slam open.


Harry smiled at the familiar voice. "Ronnie. You came."

The man huffed as he crossed the room. Harry pulled himself up to a sitting position and the blindfold was pulled off. He blinked up into the face of his old bodyguard.

"Of all the idiotic, stupid, absolutely imbecilic-"

"Is it him?" A tall, balding black man shoved his way past the two officers in the doorway.

Harry smiled at him. "King, my man."

"Harry James Potter, you insufferable pain in my arse. What the hell took you so long?"

"Well, life was just so tedious, Kings. When the man shoved a gun in my back, I thought why the hell not. Kingsley's team needs the exercise."

"Bloody barking mad," Ron muttered.

Kingsley rolled his eyes. "So considerate of you, Harry."

"Hey, can we maybe-" he turned and wriggled his fingers at his head of security, grinning broadly over his shoulder.

"I ought to leave you in them," Kingsley said as he motioned to one of the officers. The man stepped forwards and took the cuffs off Harry's wrist.

"Thanks, man." He rubbed at his wrists.

"Get him out of here and to hospital," Kingsley ordered Ron.

"Hospital," Harry protested.

"Sure thing, boss," Ron said, ignoring Harry. "Come on, you dolt." Ron pushed him out of the door.

"Wait," Harry said as they stepped through the door to the room he had spent the last three weeks. They stopped and Harry had his first look around the small kitchen. It was a basic kitchen; small, yellow, aged. A round table sat in the middle surrounded by four plain wooden chairs. Counters ran along three walls and an open bar that carried over into the living room. He nodded. "Just as I figured. Okay. Let's go."

Ron led him out of the house and over to an unmarked car. They slid in and Ron spoke to the officer that slid behind the steering wheel. "The Royal, Cresswell. Let's go. Kingsley will wait for the processing team."

"Yes, sir." the man said and started down the gravel drive.

Before Harry could say anything, Ron's phone buzzed. He pulled it out. "What?... No. Keep them separate. Different cars. Different entrances. Don't give them a chance to have any communication between them. I don't even want them making eye contact... Then have Dean drive slow or take a detour and take the third one in back. Do I have to do your job too, Robards? Use your brain." Harry felt sick. He knew he'd given Professor enough time. Why hadn't the man taken it? Had he allowed himself to get captured out of some misguided sense of guilt? Maybe he could get him leniency. Harry had some damn good lawyers. He'd make one of them defend the man. "Why'd you do it, Harry?" Harry came back to himself at Ron's soft question. "Why'd you force your dad's hand? Surely you knew how it would end."

"I didn't know they'd go to the media," Harry stared out the window at the passing scenery. "I just thought they wanted money. I didn't know they'd get so pissed when I told them dad wouldn't get involved. I didn't realize it was personal."

"You're going to have to take action," Ron said as he typed something in his phone. "He's trying to disown you, Harry."

Harry nodded. He figured it was a very real probability. "He won't disown me this close to the kidnapping. Too much media attention. I have time."

Ron sighed. "A few months at the most. You'd better get on it. Once he hears you're safe he'll fly back to London." Ron hesitated, then added, "He's got a protégé, Harry. Some punk kid he's got stashed in a boarding school, willing to do the man's every bidding. He still has some control over the board, if he can convince them to cut you out..." Ron let the sentence hang.

Harry nodded. "I know."

They sat silently for several minutes and Harry contemplated Ron's words. He'd known about the kid for years. Had known about his father's bastard and how he'd been grooming him to replace Harry. James had been waiting years for the perfect opportunity to displace his Big Gay Disappointment. Ron lay a hand over Harry's, "You okay, mate?"

Harry nodded


An hour later, Harry sat on the hospital bed, barely listening to the doctor.

"Malnutrition... Dehydration... Rest." The words floated around the room but they barely penetrated his mind.

"Yes, We'll keep that in mind, doctor. Thanks," Ron said as he read over the report. All three men jumped as the door flew open and a whirlwind of frizzy hair and blazing brown eyes entered the room.

"Sorry, boss," One of the guards at the door said. "We couldn't-" Ron cut the man's words off with a raised hand.

"Harry James Potter, you selfish son of a bitch." He was almost expecting the slap, but it still stung. Strong arms flung around him. "You are not allowed to do that ever again. I waited an hour. A whole bloody fucking hour for you, Harry."

He rubbed a soothing hand over her back, "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I promise, I'll spend the next month obediently listening to every safety and statistics lecture you throw at me."

She pulled away and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Two months, Potter. You owe me."

"Yes, Love." He pulled her into another hug and kissed her cheek.

"Ahem." They turned to see a medium built man with brown hair, moustache, and round glasses standing behind Hermione. He held out a bag and Harry took it as the girl moved away. Harry glanced into the bag and smiled.

"Clean clothes. Bless you, Remus."

The man moved forward and wrapped his arms around Harry. "You. Are. In. So. Much. Trouble. Young man."

Harry nodded. "I know."

The man stepped back and looked towards Ron. "Black's penthouse is available. Once Harry is dressed we'll move there and meet with Kingsley."

Ron nodded as Harry slipped from the bed and stepped into the bathroom to change.


Ron contacted Kingsley to let him know the plan. Kingsley was still at the house, both scenes still being processed. It would be a few more hours. So when they arrived at his godfather's flat, Harry took a nice long bath while Remus ordered dinner for the small group. They discussed Harry's response to his father's lack of response and Remus produced the appropriate paperwork that had been sitting in his briefcase for years for just this moment. It would be a quiet acquisition, a small blurb in the financial section. The board would all vote on it, it wasn't a real buy out after all. Just another consolidation between Potter companies. His father should have paid the ransom.

Kingsley finally arrived and Harry settled in to give his statement. He had been approached from behind on his way to Sunday brunch. A gun shoved in his kidney. He was led to a van where he was subsequently bound and blindfolded. Why hadn't he followed Protocol? He was stunned, mentally, and couldn't think. He ignored the skeptical looks from the people that knew him the best. He was taken to a small house outside London and placed in a small room, no window. He was fed once a day, given a change of clothes, and allowed to take a shower twice while he was there. He was guarded round the clock. He didn't see anyone and only overheard two names, Tom and Lucius.

"Tom Riddle," Kingsley supplied as he flipped through his notebook. "He owned the house. Still processing that, by the way. Seems it was virtually a hostel for his friends to crash. When I left, we had over ten sets of identifiable prints." It was a small consolation for Harry, that Professor hadn't lied about that. "The other man," Kingsley continued, "is Lucius Malfoy."

"Malfoy!" Harry and Hermione gasped at the same time.

"Draco's dad?" Ron asked, just as surprised.

Kingsley nodded. "Yes. We believe that's the reason they were so adamant about getting your father personally involved."

"Little Dragon," Harry said. Kingsley turned to him. "Pretty Boy- I mean Lucius said something about Little Dragon always saying I was a dunderhead. That must have been Draco."

Hermione scoffed. "As if he has room to talk."

"What about the woman?"

Harry turned back to Kingsley. "What?"

"The woman, Harry. Did she ever say anything? Talk to you?"

Harry's head began to swim. He tried to shake the fog away. "The P-people you caught- in my apartment? A-a tall man with a," he motioned towards his throat, "effeminate voice?"

Kingsley nodded, "Lucius Malfoy," he supplied.

"And a man with a raspy voice from ci-cigarette smoke?"

Another nod, "Tom Riddle."

"Who else?" The words were a strangled whisper.

"Harry?" Hermione dropped beside him. He pushed her away.

"Who else, Kingsley," he said gruffly. "Who else was in my flat?"

"The two men and the woman," he said in his calm-the-victim voice.

"A woman," and Harry's own voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel.

"Yes. Belle Lestrange. Long time girlfriend of Tom Riddle- Did you not know about her, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "I never heard, felt, saw, or smelled a woman in that house."

"She may have been the midnight guard," Ron said. "We'll- Harry?"

Harry was half way across the room. He waved the man away. "I need a moment."

"I think the shock is setting in, Ron. We shouldn't-" But he didn't hear the rest of Hermione's opinion through the bathroom door. He had done it. Professor had gotten away.


"Why are we here, Harry?"

Harry looked over at Hermione as he opened the car door. "I just need to get something before they send someone to get the car."

He pulled out the extra key and unlocked the small VW.

"Kingsley's right. You are hiding something," she accused.

He lowered the visor, ignoring her. Nothing. He tried the passenger visor. Nothing. He opened the small compartment between the seat. Nothing. He sighed in exasperation.


"It's nothing, 'Mione. Please."

"Ron's going to kill me," she mumbled. "A quick lunch, that's all," she repeated the promise she'd made to her boyfriend a quarter hour earlier.

He pulled open the glove box and his heart plummeted to his stomach, then jumped into his throat. He grabbed the small box. "Okay. Let's go."

"A pack of playing cards, Harry? You risked Ron's ire for a lousy pack of cards?"

Harry locked the car back. "Yes."

He slid into Hermione's car and buckled his belt before opening the box. He pulled out the familiar cards and thumbed through them. In the middle of the stack was a very familiar plastic key card. Shock ran through his system.

Chapter Text






    After nearly a month missing, Harry Potter, heir to Marauders Ltd and subsequent corporations has returned home.

Marauders Ltd started as a small map making company in the mid 1970s. It quickly expanded to become the largest

map manufacturer in Europe. Co-founder of Marauders Ltd, Sirius Black also expanded the holdings to include Black

industries, responsible for a variety of advancements in a wide array of areas, in the early 1980s. Marauders Ltd has

been a top ranking Fortune 500 company for several years with plans to expand into the Global 500 with the latest...


  Severus tossed the paper on his desk with a sigh. A week's vacation and this is what he comes back to. He scanned the article again. It was one long advertisement for the damn company, the kid barely even mentioned, the kidnappers not even named. He looked up at the knock on his door.


The door opened and a small man with shocks of white hair walked in carrying a stack of files. "You received the email, sir?" the man squeaked.

Severus nodded. "I did, Filius. Thanks. Is that the research and projected figures?"

The short man nodded. "Yes. sir. Good luck."

Severus took the files with an encouraging smile at the small man. "If I can keep us going for another quarter, I think we can count it a success."

"No doubt, sir," the man said confidently.

He followed Filius out of his office and turned towards the lifts. As head of the apothecary research division of Black Industries, it always fell to Severus Snape to report to the CEO each quarter on the progress and development of his team. In his personal opinion, he didn't feel Black took this particular division serious enough, never really allocating enough funds for any in-depth studies. Of course, that might have something to do with their longtime rivalry growing up. But it hadn't stopped Black from hiring the best chemist in Europe and it hadn't stopped Severus from taking the man's money.

He stepped out of the lift onto the plush carpet of the executive floor and crossed over to the stern looking woman sitting at the desk. "Minerva."

She looked up, a small smile on her thin lips. "Severus. Right on time, as usual." She stood and removed the tartan shawl from around her thin shoulders. "Right this way. Mr. Potter is expecting you."

Severus's steps faltered. "P-Potter?" He hadn't seen the man in years. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face his childhood tormentor just yet.

She stopped at the door and turned to face him. "Yes. There have been quite a few changes in the last week."

The first thing he noticed when they entered the large spacious office was the bulky red head standing beside the conference table. He had a web of puckered skin that ran down his neck and disappeared under his shirt, giving him a well-seasoned aura no amount of muscles could compare to. He ran assessing eyes over Severus.

"Mr. Snape has an appointment," Minerva told the man with a sense of authority that she was not to be questioned. He nodded and relaxed his hand from his hip, presumably where his gun was holstered.

"Thank you, Minerva." Severus looked up at the soft words to see a smartly dressed woman in a grey business suit. "Tea, please."

"Right away, Ms. Granger." Minerva replied as she stepped from the room, closing the door behind her.

The impeccably dressed Ms. Granger walked over to him, hand out. "Hermione Granger, Mr. Snape. Mr. Potter's personal business analyst."

He shook the woman's hand. She was awful young to hold such an elite position. "Severus Snape, Ma'am. Nice to meet you."

She waved a hand at the large conference table. "You can put your things on the table here. Mr. Potter will be in shortly."

Severus placed the files on the table but refused to be the only person in the room sitting. A door he hadn't noticed opened and Severus felt the sudden need to sit down. The man who stepped out was not what he was expecting. Vivid green eyes flanked by laugh lines, jet black hair breaking free of it's gelled confines and falling across a tanned forehead. The business suit the man wore fit him exquisitely, the dark blue a nice contrast to his tanned skin. He addressed the red head.

"Ron, call in Wood and Thomas. I want him out of here." The red head pulled out a phone and began speaking softly as Harry Potter crossed the room to the large desk in front of the wall of windows.

The same door the young Potter had just stepped through flew open again. An older version that lacked the piercing green eyes stormed in. Severus's gut clenched at the sight of a furious James Potter as memories resurfaced. "You ungrateful bastard-"

"I have been repeatedly assured you and my mother were married at the time on my birth, James," Harry said coldly. "I believe I have been very generous with you." Green eyes rose to glare at the older man. "More so than you were to me."

"You can't steal my company," The older Potter bellowed.

"I did not steal your company, James," Harry said in a voice that reminded Severus of a pre-school teacher trying to talk a toddler down from a tantrum. "I merely called in the outstanding debts Marauders owed to Evans Corporation. You really should have paid more attentions to Grandfather's rants. That, along with a vote from the majority of the shareholders, we deemed it advisable to consolidate the two companies. You will, of course, continue to receive your monthly stipend as awarded to all former CEOs."

"You little shite," James screamed, "You bought them all out. You're the majority of shareholders."

Severus shivered at the smile of evil satisfaction that crossed the younger Potter's face. "I am, aren't I? Well, good thing I agree with myself."

Severus's eyes cut to the woman who had turned from the scene with a snicker. Their eyes met and she tried to hide the twinkle there. He lifted the corner of his mouth to indicate his own mirth at the situation.

"Next time you decide to wash your hands of someone, James," Harry continued, "you should make sure they don't hold all the cards." The door opened just then and two men in dark suits walked in. Harry motioned them forwards. "Please escort my father out, gentlemen, I wouldn't want him to miss his flight. Bermuda, wasn't it, Father? Do have a lovely time." He turned back to a stack of papers on his desk and began flipping through them.

James Potter pulled from the grasp of one of the men and marched towards the door. He paused when his eyes caught sight of the man watching him. A smirk pulled at Severus's lips and the man sneered. "Snivellus," he hissed.

"Keep going, James. I have a business to run." Severus looked over to see the other Potter rounding the desk, green eyes studying him. Severus barely registered the door once more closing as Potter crossed the room and held his hand out.

"Mr. Snape? Alchemy Research Division?"

Severus swallowed hard and took the hand, warm in his, "Yes."

The man smile politely. "Excellent. Please have a seat." He motioned to a chair at the foot of the table and Severus lowered himself into it. Ms. Granger sat as well, as Potter unbuttoned his suit jacket and settled down across from her. Unsurprisingly, the red head stayed standing. "Sorry you had to witness that," Potter said as he pulled a pad of paper and a pen over to him. "Some employees aren't taking well to the consolidation. I'm trying to meet with each department head individually as soon as possible to answer questions and alleviate any fears or misapprehensions. There was a meeting last week, but I understand you were on vacation. I hope it was lovely."

Severus nodded, astounded at the professional attitude the young man showed. So different from his father's ever laid-back arrogance. "It was acceptable."

Potter smiled at him, the look completely business, not quite reaching his eyes. He turned to face Ms. Granger and she handed him a report as the door once again opened and Minerva appeared with a tea trolley. She began pouring the tea.

"Hermione?" Severus watched as Potter pulled something from his pocket and began flipping it between his fingers as he paged through the report.

Ms. Granger leaned back as Minerva placed a cup in front of her. "It's as you suspected, Harry. Research is woefully understaffed, under-funded, and under-supervised." Severus tensed at the last words. He was doing the best he could. Was this arrogant brat going to come in and turn his whole division around without having a clue what they were even about?

"New contracts?"

"Written and ready for negotiation." Potter nodded.

Severus felt as if he were watching a tennis match as he went back and forth between the two, ignoring the cup that was placed in front of him.

"I'll want a tour the first part of next week," he said to the stack of papers in front of him. "See to that, Ron."

"Yes, sir," the red head said stiffly.

The other two occupants at the table snorted. Well, Severus was glad someone could find something funny in this situation. He sure as hell couldn't.

"I'm. On. Duty," the red head said through gritted teeth.

Severus's temper was rising. He placed a hand on his files. "I brought-"

Potter waved his hand and the card he had been playing with slipped from his fingers. Severus's heart plummeted when he caught a glimpse of the plastic key card. Potter swiped it up. "We are not here about your research, Mr. Snape."

Severus's eyes snapped up to Potter's. The man was smiling apologetically at him. "As I said before, due to the consolidation we are re-evaluating certain aspects of the Marauders and Black divisions. I am meeting with the heads of each department to discuss certain changes and I wish to start with you since your division will experience the biggest change. As it stands, you currently have a research team of forty and you are the sole supervisor."

It wasn't a question but the green eyes looked at him expectantly. "That is correct," he replied.

"Unfortunately my godfather has never been one to look to the future and is a bit stuck in 1970; fortunately, I am not. The future is in research. We would like to see you double your team and hire enough team leaders to oversee your research. They will, of course, report directly to you and you will be required to report to me directly at the quarterly meetings. I plan on being much more involved in the future of this company." He looked back down at his report. "We may need to meet more often when one of your teams has a breakthrough to discuss marketing and such. You are welcome to schedule a meeting with me anytime. Just speak to Minerva. I realize we are asking a lot of you, Mr. Snape, and we are prepared to renegotiate your contract. Ms. Granger," he motioned to the woman across from him, "is here to discuss that with you. She also has files on several candidates for your teams that we would like you to consider. You are, of course, free to make your own decisions. If you'll excuse me," he stood and pushed away from the table.

A contract was pushed under his nose and his attention turned to Ms. Granger. "I hope you understood all that, Mr. Snape. Harry's a little preoccupied right now."

"I had heard about his..."

"Yes. Well, here is the basic contract we have drawn up for your consideration. I also have a copy of your original contract in case you need a refresher." She rested her hand on a stack of files. "These are the files of potential candidates, Mr. Potter would like you to consider. We ask that you not remove them from Mr. Potter's office. They will be available to you here when you wish to look through them."

Severus nodded and began reading over the new contract. He was surprised at the terms. It was well thought out and precisely phrased. The boy was definitely smart, but he'd known that. He was caught up in reading through the contract and missed the door opening several times.

"Dammit." Severus looked up at the hiss and saw Remus Lupin standing beside Potter, the younger man had another contract in his hand. "I want his team cut in half and his funding quartered. If I can't fire him I can make him quit."

"Harry," Lupin warned.

Harry ignored the man and punched a button on the phone on the conference table. "Minerva, I want employee files on Lockhart's team."

"Yes, Mr. Potter." Severus thought he heard a smile of satisfaction in the secretary's voice.

"Harry, think about this," Lupin cautioned.

"He's a fraud, Remus. we can discuss this later. We are not alone." He indicated Severus with a nod of his head and Lupin turned, his eyes widening in surprise.


"Lupin," he nodded politely.

"You know Mr. Snape, Remus?" Potter said surprised.

The man nodded. "We went to school together."

Potter eyed him shrewdly and Severus felt a shiver race down his spine at the intense green eyes. He got the feeling this was the first time Potter had actually looked at him. "We are re-working his contract."

"Excellent." Lupin smiled reassuringly at Severus. "Harry is an intuitive businessman, Severus. He will take care of you."

He nodded and looked back down at the contract.

"Is everything acceptable, Mr. Snape?"

He looked up at the young man's words. "Yes, Mr. Potter. Quite acceptable."

He smiled warmly and Severus felt his heart stutter. "Ready to sign, then?" He nodded and Potter pulled a pen from his pocket. He flipped to the last page and signed above his own name, leaning over the table. Severus caught a whiff of the man's cologne and closed his eyes.

"So you went to school with Remus?"

Severus's eyes popped open and he grabbed for the pen Potter held out. "I did."

"Then you knew my parents?"

He signed his own name. "I did."

The younger man looked like he wanted to say something else but didn't. He merely took the contract and walked off, handing it to Ms. Granger. The door opened and Minerva walked in followed by Rubeus Hagrid, a large giant of a man that headed the company's internal security.

"Excellent, Minerva. Please give those to Mr. Snape." Severus took the files the woman held out to him. "You may include those in your choices, Mr. Snape," Potter said before turning to Hagrid. "Hagrid, you have that list?"

The man stepped forward and held out a sheet of paper. Harry took it as the man spoke. "List of all employees with a level orange clearance and above. Quite a few, sir. If you could tell me-"

"This is fine, Hagrid," Potter cut him off. "Thanks." The man nodded and retreated from the room with Minerva. Severus eyed the paper in Potter's hand. His name was on that list, he knew it. He couldn't help but notice Potter was playing with the card again.

The Granger woman had been talking to Lupin, but she stepped towards Potter. "Harry, let me help. If you just told me-"

"No, 'Mione. This is something I have to do."

"I could help," she said in a voice that clearly said they had had this conversation before. "Where did you meet him? How do you know him? Does he even know you're looking for him?"

Severus glanced up from the files he had been pretending to study. Potter was staring out the window. "I hope he hopes I am."

"All this for a one off, mate?" The red head finally spoke softly.

"It was more than that, Ron," Potter said indignantly. "I know it. And I know he felt it."

The woman placed a comforting hand on Potter's arm. "Harry."

"Don't. The least I can do is find him and give him the option. Now that I'm his boss-" he glanced down at the card and shook his head. "I don't know."

"Harry," Lupin called from across the room, "I've got to get to the airport."

"Yeah, okay, Remmy." He put the paper and card on his desk and crossed over to the man. "Give Sirius my love and I'll see you next week." They exchanged a quick hug.

"I'll walk you out, Remus," Ms. Granger offered. I've got lunch with Gin soon." She leaned over and placed a kiss on the red head's cheek and whispered something that made him blush. He nodded and she gave him a soft smile. She joined Potter and Lupin and gave the younger man a quick hug. "I'll call you. Dinner and a lecture on Thursday."

"Alright," he mumbled. Severus dropped his eyes back to the files.

He was alone with Potter and his bodyguard. He grabbed another file and scanned through it. No. Another. No. Another. He paused. Re-read the file. Double checked the name. His head shot up to see the young man's knowing smile. Severus handed him the file. Potter pressed a button on the phone again.

"Minerva, please inform Longbottom he's just been promoted. He'll need to report directly to Mr. Snape Wednesday morning."

"Yes, Mr. Potter," she replied.

Severus nodded and went back to the files. He went through several more, loosing track of time and his whereabouts. He pulled three more he was interested in and set them to the side. He glanced up to see Potter at his desk, perusing the list Hagrid had brought him, running the card absently over his lips. He went back to the files. Potter's phone rang once and he stepped into the other room to take it. He was aware when the man returned. He read through the last file and placed it in the "maybe" pile as he stood.

Potter looked up from his desk, "Anything?"

"I would like a bit more information on these candidates before I decide."

He nodded. "Get with Minerva. Tell her what you need. I will notify you if I come across any other possibilities I think you might be interested in."

He gave a quick nod, "Thank you, sir."

He picked up the files he had brought with him and grabbed the personnel files as well before leaving to speak with the man's secretary.

He needed a drink.

Chapter Text

A month.

It had been a month since that day in Potter's office. The man and his small entourage had been down the following week to tour the research area, but he'd barely seen him then. He and Neville Longbottom had settled on a team for the young man to spearhead and Severus had hired two more team leaders, one from another division where the man's knowledge had been going to waste. He had promoted two of his own original researchers and now had five teams doing individual research. His funding had almost doubled and most requests for additional funds he sent up were approved. He had talked to several other division heads and received similar success stories. The boy had a head for business, knowing where to put his money to good use. All in all everything seemed to be falling in to place for Severus. Well, almost everything.

Severus dropped his pen on his desk and stood up. Maclemore's numbers were off and he couldn't find it. The man had spent a week studying the numbers before bringing it to Severus. They had spent the afternoon in his office going over figures and statistics. Maclemore had been on his team for three years and the man had promise, he was the first person Severus had promoted to team leader. The man's research project could be their first breakthrough now that they had more funding and personnel to concentrate on it. The problem was in the complexity of the dosage per BMI. If they were to make the medications available for teens, the BMI calculation currently in use might cause problems... Severus wished he hadn't already thrown his pen down, he'd love to do it again.

He pushed away from the desk and stood, crossed the room and poured out a finger of whiskey, decided it wasn't enough and added another finger. He needed to call it a day. Go home. Eat. He stared out the window at the London night, The Eye shining in the distance. There was a sharp knock at his door and he wondered who else was working late. Before he could answer, the door was pushed open.

"...Just be a minute," Potter was saying as he stepped into the room. Severus's heart jumped. The man was dressed casually, but no less elegant than when he wore his business suit. A cobalt blue button down tucked into khaki dress pants. A thin black tie hung loosely around his neck and the top button of his shirt was undone. He froze when he saw Severus and smiled politely. "Oh. You're still here." He continued into the room. "I wasn't aware I employed any workaholics," a note of the old teasing evident in his voice. Severus watched silently as Potter crossed to his desk and placed several files on it. "I'm actually glad you're still here. I wanted to make sure you got these. More personnel files from employees in our Paris branch that are willing to relocate. I was going to have Minerva deliver them tomorrow but I've been called away." Potter's fingers danced across the files and green eyes rose to study him. The young man smiled self-deprecatingly. "You don't remember me, do you?"

What did the boy expect him to remember exactly? The feel of their bodies pressed together? The smell of his freshly washed body? The taste of him on his tongue? Severus remembered them every night. He took a sip of his whiskey to settle his nerves. "It has hardly been a month since you toured my area, Mr. Potter. I distinctly remember your rather large entourage making it's way through my corridors." He stopped as the man shook his head.

"No. From before." Severus emptied his glass as his heart thudded in his chest. Potter sat on the edge of his desk and pulled a familiar card from his pocket. Severus eyed it as if it were a snake that could strike any second. "When I was eighteen, when I came into my inheritance, Remus took me around to tour all the companies." Severus looked over to see the man staring out the window. "I remember thinking how boring it was, talking to all those different department heads." His eyes moved to capture Severus's. "Then I met you. I could have listened to you talk about your projects forever. I was fascinated with you even then." He paused his movements and looked down at the card. "Orange level clearance." He lifted the card to show Severus. "That's pretty high. Did you know, when an employee receives a higher level of clearance they are issued a new card?" He turned the card over in his hand as if searching for something. "They aren't required to return their previous key card. It's simply deactivated. They could be lost, misplaced, stolen, and with no way to identify who the card had been originally assigned to. Very lax of Sirius. I personally think that could pose a serious security risk. I'll have to talk to Hagrid about that." He dropped the card into his pocket and met Severus's eyes again. "Is your new team adjusting well?" Severus was thrown by the abrupt change of topic and idly wondered if the man had ever been tested for ADD, he simply nodded. Potter smiled enthusiastically, "Excellent. And Longbottom is fitting in nicely?"

Another nod, "He is."

"Good. You know, I went to school- well Uni, with him. Excellent botanist, bit shy when I first met him. But that man can talk for hours about plants, especially medicinal plants," Potter chuckled. "And Finnigan, as well? A good fit?" Severus bobbed his head again. "Good. I went to Uni with him as well. It's amazing how many people I went to school with that work for me now. I was talking to Remus about it a few weeks ago and he agreed. About his own class, that is. Rosier from accounting, Mulciber over in security, you." Severus tensed at the casual tone. "You know what else you and Mulciber have in common?" 

The man finally went silent and Severus wished he had more alcohol. "What?" The word was almost a whisper.

"Tom Riddle." Severus's heart stopped, the name like an anvil on his chest. Intense green eyes bore into black. "He's the man that masterminded my abduction, you know? It was his house I was kept in. Unfortunately, that particular house apparently is like a train station for Riddle's friends. I think Kingsley said they found over thirty sets of identifiable prints. But you probably already knew that. They interviewed you, when? Last week? Week before?" Potter slipped from the desk and slowly stalked across the room. Severus felt cornered, his mouth dry, heart pounding. "Not much for words are you, Mr. Snape?"

The tone was the familiar teasing, softly seductive, near whisper he had grown used to. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, "I thought you could talk enough for the both of us?"

He watched as the green eyes widened in surprise and the man was suddenly in front of him, green eyes searching his. "Can I call you Professor?" he asked breathlessly.

"No," Severus's heart was pounding in his chest as he fought to catch his own breath.

His eyelids fluttered closed for a second before opening to show pleading green orbs. "Please," he whispered. "Please be him. Tell me you're him. Tell me it's you."

Severus leaned forward slowly until his mouth was near the man's ear. He let the word flow from his lips like silk, "Honeysuckle."

With a sharp gasp, Harry threw his arms around Severus's neck and pulled him against him, their mouths crushing together. Severus moaned at the familiar taste, his tongue sliding into Harry's mouth. Harry pressed his body against Severus's and Severus grabbed him around the waist, pulling him closer. He pressed his own erection against Harry's and kissed his way down the now smooth jawline.

"You found me," he whispered against the neck.

Harry moaned against him, "I told you I would."

Severus nuzzled into his neck, nipping and sucking on the tender flesh. Harry moved his hands to Severus's back and pulled his shirt free to slip his hands under it. They moaned at the skin to skin contact. Severus spun them around and pressed Harry against the bookshelf. He reached up and pulled the tie from Harry's neck and ran a hand over the silk shirt, feeling the hard nipples beneath it. The door opened but the sound barely registered to Severus as he pulled Harry's shirt from his slacks.

"Harry, we've got-"

"Not. Now. Ron," Harry hissed and the door closed quickly.

"You need to go?" Severus asked but his mouth didn't leave Harry's neck and his fingers continued working on the shirt buttons.

"He'll reschedule the flight," Harry said absently.

"Where to?" Severus slid his hands down Harry's arms to undo the cuffs before pushing the shirt from the younger man's shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

"Italy," Harry mumbled as Severus's lips moved over the shell of his ear. "It-Italian stockholders had questions. Profit margin and- Fuck!"

Severus ground his cock against Harry's, "It's incredibly sexy when you talk business."

Harry chuckled, "I'll borrow Minerva's notes from the last board meeting."

Harry moaned as his undershirt was pulled over his head. "When did you know, Harry? That first day?"

"N-no. You were just another department head when you walked in that office." Severus moved down Harry's chest, tongue swirling around a dusky nipple, remembering how much Harry had enjoyed it last time. Harry moaned and arched against him. "Not-ah- not until Remus recognized you. And then- Mmm, yes- then I saw your name on that list Hagrid brought me. I started to wonder." It was Harry's turn to remove Severus's shirt and he made quick work of the buttons. "But I felt certain it was you when- gasp- Ron mentioned Kingsley interviewed you- Mmm- about your connection to Riddle. Ah. Did you know Belle was involved?"

Severus shook his head and replaced his mouth with his fingers as they teased and pinched at Harry's nipples. "No. I was shocked when she showed up. But she went upstairs with Riddle. It was easy enough to convince Lucius to search the bookshelves in the living room. I made it to the car as the first cop pulled up. Hauled arse out of there." He lowered his head to the other nipple and Harry arched against him.

"I thought- when they said they had three people, I thought you let yourself get caught."

"No," Severus said against his skin. "You intrigued me, as well, Harry. I needed to know," he ran his tongue over the hardened nipple, wishing Harry would shut up or put his mouth to better use.

"I don't- I don't understand why they didn't turn you in, name you as an accomplice. I worried about that," Harry groaned as he rubbed himself against Severus.

Severus chuckled, "Oh, they tried. Kingsley was ready to arrest me when they brought me in for questioning. Fortunately, Riddle has a history of trying to drag others down with him. He'd gotten into some trouble years ago, tried to say I was involved then, too. Plus there's the fact Riddle and I had a very public falling out several months ago. Now, if you are done with the questions," Severus reached between them and slid the button of Harry's slacks free and lowered the zipper. His hand slid down to caress hot hard flesh. Harry bucked beneath him.

"Fuck, Severus. Please. No cuffs. No blindfold. I need you. Please don't make me wait any longer."

Severus pulled back, panting, "I don't- don't have an-"

Harry stopped him by grabbing his hand and sucking Severus's fingers into his mouth. Severus moaned and his knees almost gave out at the sensation. He pushed Harry's pants down as Harry coated his fingers in saliva. Harry worked Severus's pants down as he slid from his shoes. Severus pulled his fingers from Harry's mouth and quickly found the man's puckered hole. One finger slid easily in and Harry moaned. Severus worked at the hole, loosening him and adding a second finger. Harry whimpered and Severus leaned in to nuzzle his neck.

"I'll be better prepared next time, Harry. Promise," Severus groaned against him. "I can't promise no pain this time."

Harry shook his head, "I know, babe. I don't care. Just want you." Harry arched against him and Severus moved, searching for the man's prostate. Harry's hips jerked, "Yes!"

Severus reached down and ran his thumb over his leaking slit, using his pre-come to lubricate his aching cock. He moved his fingers in and out of Harry, stretching him, pleasuring him. The man clutched at him, moaning and begging for more. Severus spit into his hand and coated himself before pulling from Harry.

"Ready, love?"

"Yes," Harry gasped. "Yes, please. Severus."

Severus lifted Harry's leg and guided himself to the waiting hole. Harry moaned as he pushed himself past the tight rings. He grabbed Harry's cock and began to stroke him, finally slipping past the barrier as the younger man was lost in pleasure. He let out a growl of ecstasy as Harry's tight hole closed around his length.

"Oh, Fuck. Harry, feels so good."

"Ah, Severus. Professor, yes."

 Harry lifted his other leg and wrapped it around Severus's waist, opening himself further and sliding down Severus. Severus moaned as he pressed Harry into the bookshelf. His hips began moving of their own volition, his cock sliding in and out of Harry.

"Yes. Yes." Harry's words echoed his own thoughts. "More."

Severus thrust harder and Harry clutched at his shoulders. Severus heard a book hit the floor as he pounded into Harry. Yes. Yes. Severus felt the blood singing through his body as Harry's feet dug into his arse, his hips thrusting against Severus. Severus.  Severus felt his body tighten with each thrust of his hips. Severus, Please. He reached between them and wrapped his fingers around Harry's cock. Two tugs was all it took for Harry to moan and thrust into him, ropes of comes shooting across their chests. One more thrust into Harry's clenching body and Severus was filling the young man's arse.

He fell forward, pinning Harry against the bookcase. He felt his breathing even out as his softened cock slid from Harry. "I haven't got a flannel either, love."

Harry chuckled. "I can't imagine it's every day you expect to pin your boss against the wall and fuck him senseless."

"Mmm." He pressed a chaste kiss to Harry's temple. "Maybe I should."

"Not sure I could do that every day," Harry laughed as he cautiously lowered first one leg then the other.

Severus placed a hand on Harry's hip to steady him. "Okay, love?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine, babe." He looked up into Severus's eyes and smiled. He pressed a kiss to his lips and reached down to grab his undershirt. Harry used the white shirt to clean them up and pulled his clothes back on. Severus followed suit, suddenly embarrassed to have behaved like a sex starved teenager. He felt a soft hand on his arm and he looked over at Harry's tender smile.

"We okay, Professor? Is this okay?"

Severus searched the green eyes and took a deep breath. "Yes. Yes, I would very much like to see where this goes, Harry. Like I said, you fascinate me, as well.

"Good." A flash of worry crossed his face. "There are parts of my life, Severus. I'm a package deal. Security details, media appearances. Tell me now."

"I get it, Harry. I don't like it, I'm a private person, but I get it. I had plenty of time to think about what it meant to be a part of your life before I ever left that deck of cards." He said as he tucked his shirt into his pants.

Harry smiled shyly and nodded as he tucked his own shirt in. He reached down and picked up his tie. "RON," he called out and the door opened.

Severus bit back a smile as the blushing red head avoided their eyes. "Flight's been pushed back an hour, Harry. It's the best I could do."

"I know. Thanks. I need a team to check the security on Severus's apartment. Wood and Thomas." He looked over at Severus. He nodded his acceptance, "They're the best," Harry reassured him. "Also, have Kingsley assign a background detail for now. If we need a visible detail later we can arrange it."

"Not Robards," Severus interjected.

Harry laughed, "No. Not Robards. How about Diggory? He's a quiet fellow. you won't know he's there."

"Diggory is free, I believe," Ron confirmed.

"Good. I should be done with the Italians by Friday afternoon. Shall I have Minerva book you a ticket to Milan? The Evans Villa is nice this time of year." He looked at Severus expectantly.

Severus sniffed, "I do not cut out of work early for playtime. Not even for my boss."

Green eyes twinkled with laughter. "Seven o'clock flight time then. I'll have a driver pick you up at the airport."

Severus nodded tersely. "That is acceptable."

Harry chuckled and closed the distance between them. He cupped Severus's cheek and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "I'm glad it was you."

Severus smiled down into his soulful emerald eyes. "I'm glad you found me."

Another quick kiss, "I'll see you Friday."

He crossed over to Ron. "Alright, Ronnie. Let's go placate some stockholders."

"So it was Mr. Snape all along?" Ron asked quietly as they left the room.

Harry paused at the door and turned back to glance at Severus with a soft smile. "Yeah, it was." He closed the door as they left.