Second Place - Drama

Hedwig perched tentatively beside Severus’ Postal Owl, Aconite. The two owls chirruped a short conversation before they leaned into one another and napped, heads tucked under wings. Severus was relieved Aconite did not decide to become territorial about her perch. He had a one hundred and fourteen pound blackbird of his own to contend with.

Alistair, thankfully, had stepped down, not wanting to lower himself to "fight over a whore." Although Severus wanted nothing more than to curse the men, the dark wizard knew an open attack upon a Muggle, no matter how deserved, would bring the wrath of the Ministry of Magic Aurors down on his head. He had had a lifetime of dealing with their general distrust and didn’t desire a re-kindling of animosity. But that did not mean Severus planned to ignore the men either; it would grate against his Slytherin core.

Harry was curled up in the corner of his sofa, clutching a mug of tea liberally laced with Firewhisky. The aftermath of his assault left the young wizard understandably shaken. He offered no argument or resistance when Severus spelled clothing to cover him and Apparated them both to Harry’s flat to retrieve Hedwig and a change of clothing. Rather than risk a second Apparation with a caged owl, Severus sent the snowy owl ahead to his townhouse.

Harry was silent, his brilliant eyes taking in the room’s atmosphere. As expected, the bookshelves were overflowing, but the contents were varied. Although the majority of the text titles alluded to Potions or Dark Magic, there seemed to be a number that were of a sexual nature. Severus Snape as a sexual being was an intriguing concept.

Severus sat on the sofa beside Harry. His hand reached over to pat one of Harry’s bare feet, realizing for the first time that when he had dressed Harry in Cheaton’s he had neglected to give him shoes and socks. The foot was ice cold.

Hey," he said softly. "Do you want more tea or a blanket?"

‘No, Professor."

"Severus."

Harry’s eyes flickered to meet Severus’ dark eyes before dropping submissively. "S-Severus, why have you been following me?"

Severus’ hand caressed the bare foot. Why had he really followed Harry? He wasn’t too sure how to answer the question and did not want to scare the young man. The longer he had watched Harry, the more he wanted to protect him from the harsh life he was leading, but he didn’t want Harry to think his motivation was based on pity or the Wizard’s Debt he once owed the deceased James Potter. He decided to change the subject.

"Alistair called you Harry as well as Birdy. How long have you known him?"

Harry wrapped his hands around his drawn up knees. He lifted his chin and rested it on one bony kneecap. "Alistair used to be a photographer before he became a cinematographer...he was one of the first to take those pictures of me."

There was no need to ask what Harry meant by "those pictures". "Did he ever do something other than just take your picture?"

"Yes," Harry whispered. "He never stuck his cock in me because I was too little...but he’d stick other things up me...and he’d rape me with his fingers."

"And your Uncle Vernon watched this?"

Harry began to rock. Severus pulled him into his lap, wrapping protective arms around him. "U-Uncle Vernon never touched me...well not sexually...but he’d masturbate while watching Alistair...It would get him excited."

"And Leon Shaw put a stop to it?"

"Elliot snapped all of Alistair’s fingers and destroyed his photography studio and equipment." Harry gave a crooked smile, an apologetic shrug. "I told you I was Uncle Leon’s favorite...he wasn’t a man who shared his toys."

"Is that what you think you are – a toy?"

Harry looked away. It was obvious that he did. For all his masks and the illusion of confidence he carefully projected, the young wizard had no sense of self worth.

"You call yourself "Gryffindor Whore’ but you’re not, are you?"

"I am a normal, hormonal nineteen year old and I do enjoy sex. What I do not enjoy is being forced into it. I’ve been with other men besides Uncle Leon and a few women as well, but I can count them on one hand. I never traded sex for money."

Harry snuggled against Severus’ chest. The dark wizard could feel the tension drain from Harry. They sat in silence for a while, watching the flames in the fireplace flicker and the owls sleep. Without thinking of possible consequences, Severus kissed the top of the smaller man’s head. Harry shifted his weight but did not pull away.

"Have you given any thought to your future? You must have realized your modeling options were limited."

"And now they’re completely dead. I can understand Quentin would give me up to Alistair for money but I trusted Malcolm..." He paused for a moment. "I used to want to be an Auror."

"Shacklebolt told me about the last minute withdrawal of the offer for training. Cowardly bastards."

"The dream of being an Auror had pretty much died by then...I’d seen too much violence on the battlefield...But that training would have been invaluable, even if I eventually sought another path. I didn’t want to move back with Uncle Leon but I had nowhere else to go. Only he and Elliot seemed to care if I lived or died."

"There was no one else you trusted to go to for help?"

You and Hagrid put your careers on the line for me seventh year and I wasn’t worth it. I couldn’t go back to Privet Drive and 12 Grimmauld Place was no longer a sanctuary. Remus died from silver poisoning shortly after the war and the Weasleys...I couldn’t...not after Ron."

"You had offers to play professional Quidditch. Why didn’t you accept one of them? Your ban only lasted until graduation."

"They didn’t want me for my Seeker skills. They wanted the notoriety of the name. Once they were done spinning their P.R., I’d have been cut loose. I am not a league caliber talent."

"Rubbish!" Severus replied. "You were the youngest Seeker in a century. You rarely lost a match. The Quidditch ban left you rusty not worthless."

Harry shifted his position so he was straddling Severus’ legs. He faced the Potion Master, their noses almost touching. "No offense, Severus, but after Cedric was murdered, there wasn’t any real competition. Draco Malfoy offered the best challenge, and he was all tricks and speed, no genuine talent...but that’s not the real reason I declined the offers."

"You’re an amazing flyer, Harry, and with proper training you would be a strong asset to any team. What was the reason then? Fear of ridicule?"

"No," Harry replied softly. He turned his face toward the glow of an oil lamp. "Look closely at my eyes."

Severus looked at the familiar brilliant eyes and did not understand what Harry wanted him to see. The younger wizard tilted his head slightly and Severus could see Harry’s corneas were not smooth; there were hairline scars.

"What happened to your eyes?" he asked angrily, images of Death Eater torture or abuse from Vernon Dursley drifting to the forefront.

"It wouldn’t have mattered if Professor Dumbledore lifted my Quidditch ban or not. I would not have played anything but a pick-up game. Have you ever heard of Lasik surgery, Severus?"

"Lasik? I am not familiar with that term."

"Muggle eye surgeons perform an operation called Lasik surgery to correct vision problems. They cut a starburst shaped incision that reshapes the cornea. Uncle Leon thought I looked better without my eyeglasses so he took me for an operation. It wasn’t entirely successful...

"I no longer require eyeglasses and my near vision improved considerably, but my long range depth perception was damaged and I am extremely sensitive to bright light. If I were foolish enough to attempt a Wronski Feint, I would most assuredly plow my broom into the ground before I realized how close to the earth I actually was."

"Can the operation be reversed?"

"Madam Promfrey didn’t think so, and the Mediwitch she contacted at St. Mungos reaffirmed her initial diagnosis. They were afraid any attempt at repair could leave me in worse shape and possibly induce blindness...I never knew wizards sometimes reacted poorly to Muggle surgical techniques ...but all in all, I am not unhappy with the procedure. It is enough to no longer need my eyeglasses."

"But still, it is unfortunate. You loved to play Quidditch."

Harry shrugged. "Quidditch is a child’s game and Professional Quidditch was a child’s dream. I never actually envisioned myself making a career out of it...that was Oliver Wood and Ron Weasley’s dream."

"But it was one more option taken from your control."

"My entire life was taken out of my control when Voldemort murdered my parents. I know you thought I reveled in my celebrity, but I never did. I hated all the attention. I just wanted to be normal."

"You’re not normal, Harry. No Muggle-raised wizard is."

"But I was never allowed to try...I was the Dursley’s freak or The-Boy-Who-Lived...what rubbish." Harry cocked his head. "Do you know why I loved Quidditch so much? It was the only thing I had ever accomplished in my entire life that I was good at and didn’t involve sex."

Severus felt a pang in his chest. He wanted to hold Harry and never let him go. He wanted to curse all the people who had damaged his beautiful little elf – wizard and Muggle alike. But instead, he said, "I’m sure there were other things you were good at."

"Not Potions."

"No, not Potions...but a fully formed Patronus at thirteen...Most adult wizards can’t perform that charm...and your work with Dumbledore’s Army...you were an excellent teacher."

"Yeah," Harry replied, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "And my ‘friends’ used all those curses I taught against me seventh year."

"I have to admit I was rather surprised by Miss Granger’s behavior. She had always defended you in the past."

"You really shouldn’t have been. She’d fancied Ron for years. Betraying me was the price she paid to secure his affections."

"Not that I followed that sort of thing, but I was unaware that they were dating."

Harry gave a bitter, mirthless laugh. "She thought they were, but they weren’t. Ron used her like he used everyone else...He kept her around to do his homework and to fuck...once he passed his N.E.W.T.S., he threw her aside rather publicly. He was not about to be tied down by a frizzy-haired Mudblood bookworm."

"I imagine that was rather a shock to Miss Know-It-All."

"Book smart...not street smart. That was always Hermione’s weakness..." Harry shifted his position. "A week after graduation, she sent me an owl...tried to apologize for her actions."

"I take it her apology was rejected."

"Damn straight. I’d forgive Ron before I’d ever forgive her."

Severus’ eyes widened slightly at the venom in Harry’s tone.

"Ron wasn’t the one to destroy my Firebolt...it was Hermione. Out of anyone, she knew how important that broom was to me...it was all I had left from Sirius...when Hogwart’s turned on me, she was the most vicious...she’d had six years to learn all my weak spots..."

"But everyone did not turn on you."

"No. Luna stood by me and Neville wouldn’t let them destroy my photo albums and my dad’s invisibility cloak...but they couldn’t save my Firebolt."

"Longbottom graduated a fairly competent wizard...and that was all your doing. The skills you taught him in the D.A. enabled him to finally get past his fear and grasp his considerable magic. You showed a great deal of patience. You could consider a career in teaching...I think you have the aptitude for it."

"And exactly what am I qualified to teach? Modeling?"

"I think you could teach anything if you put your heart into it. Give it some thought. You can stay here as long as you need. I won’t throw you out."

Harry adjusted his perch on Severus’ lap. He studied the Potion Master for several moments before tentatively raising his hand and stroking the older man’s cheek with a feather light touch. His eyes were wide and expressive.

"So, that was you at the Uni this morning and at Tommy’s last night, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just my imagination? And Hedwig has not developed a fear of shadows?"

"I was there."

"And you rang my flat early this morning pretending to be someone else?" Severus nodded. Harry’s upper teeth rested on his lower lip; he nervously nibbled on the pink flesh. "Are you stalking me, or is it something else? You never answered me earlier. Why are you following me?"

Severus brushed strands of wild black hair away from Harry’s beautiful eyes. "It was a mixture of curiosity and concern."

"And?"

"I saw much more than I anticipated."

Harry leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Severus’ thin lips. "Did you like what you saw?"

"You have a very nice body, but it shouldn’t be on public display."

Harry kissed him a second time, a little less tentatively.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

Harry’s kisses aroused and perplexed him. Harry said he never accepted money for sex, but how often had he exchanged it for shelter? Leon protected him, but had expected sex in exchange for that protection. Did the young wizard think Severus’ offer of shelter was contingent upon sexual submission?

Severus was torn. He had fantasized about having "his" Harry in his arms, hearing him call out his name in passion, and now that the elusive sprite was perched on his knees, he didn’t know what to do. The dark wizard’s logical mind told him he should not take advantage of a sexually abused child, but should offer him counsel. His heart worried that if he rejected Harry, he would never have a chance again. He remembered something said years before – that the only commodity Harry had available to him was his own flesh.

Harry kissed him again, and when Severus did not reciprocate, Harry’s scant confidence dwindled. Afraid Severus would push him away, laugh at him or call him a whore, Harry began to slide off the Potion Master’s lap. He wanted more than anything to Disapparate, but even if he knew how to do it, he no longer had a safe place to Apparate to. Alistair knew where he lived.

Severus took a look at the dejected little figure and made a decision. His thin arm snaked around Harry’s waist, stopping the movement. His other hand wrapped around the slender shoulders.

"Don’t pursue a sexual encounter with me because you think it’s required."

"I don’t want a pity fuck." Harry whispered. "You wanted me the other night when I walked into Tommy’s. Even before you knew it was me, you were devouring me with your eyes. You got off on my stilettos, the sway to my hips. Do you want me to dress up for you? Or did what you saw today disgust you?"

Severus entwined his fingers with Harry’s and brought their hands up, kissing the inside of the younger wizard’s wrist. "You didn’t disgust me. I was jealous of your friend Dil...I wanted it to be me you were wrapped around...I wanted your striptease to be for me."

"You’d still want me? Something used?" Harry asked, uncertainly.

Severus captured the pink lips in a tender kiss. "Virginity is over rated."

Bill brushed the floo powder from his clothing. He was mentally and physically drained from an all day meeting with the Gringotts’ staff that had dragged on into the night. At least his report on the Egyptian Branch had been favorably received. He could not say the same thing for the representative of the Brazilian Office. The head goblin reassigned that unfortunate wizard to a less than plumb assignment to collect a debt owed in Borneo.

Bill wandered into the study, expecting to find Severus engrossed in his research, but the dark wizard was not at his desk. Nor was he in his potions lab. There were two empty mugs of tea abandoned on a side table as well as a bottle of Firewhisky. The cursebreaker stooped down to pick up a white owl feather on the study carpet. Strange, he thought, Aconite’s feathers were brown and Severus did not permit general Postal Owls into his study.

He set the white feather beside the bottle of Firewhisky and quietly climbed the staircase. He entered the bathroom to wash his face and immediately felt the increased humidity. Severus had recently taken a shower; the tiles were still damp.

Reentering the hallway, Bill could see a soft flickering of firelight in the partially opened door to the master suite. Severus was probably reading in bed, but the redhead silently made his way toward the door incase the Potion Master was asleep.

Bill stopped dead in his tracks. The door was ajar. Through it he could see two pair of bare feet. His jaw dropped. He and Severus were by no means exclusive and Bill had a string of conquests in both Egypt and Great Britain, but never once had Severus taken another lover to his bed while Bill was visiting.

He heard a soft gasp of pleasure as he watched Severus kiss, nip, and taste every inch of his smaller lover’s body. The dark wizard shifted his position and Bill could see the flushed elfin face of Harry Potter.

Bill watched Severus’ tender foreplay and felt an unexpected pang of jealousy. He found himself becoming aroused. Severus was treating Harry as if he were the most precious object in the world. Harry keened softly as Severus began to tease the tender flesh of his inner thighs. Harry giggled and it struck Bill as such an intimate sound. He felt like a voyeur – a jealous voyeur – but realized his jealousy did not stem from either Severus or Harry, but from the stark knowledge that even if Severus was not aware of it, Severus was in love with Harry. Bill didn’t think anyone would love ever him as much as the passionate Potion Master loved the disgraced savior. He only hoped that the years of abuse has not rendered Harry incapable of returning that love.

Unseen, Bill backed away from the door and headed for one of the vacant guest rooms. He stripped down to his boxers and crawled into bed, painfully aware of his erection. Willing it away, Bill tried to get comfortable in the cold antique bed. He wasn’t used to sleeping alone – here or in Egypt – and he missed the comfort of another warm body.

He wasn’t angry with Severus and didn’t even view the older wizard’s actions as a betrayal. Given the chance, who wouldn’t want that beautiful little creature warming their bed?

Harry’s eyes darkened in arousal as he watched Severus. The older man’s gentle seduction was totally unexpected. Harry was used to the perfunctory foreplay of his other partners – tweak a nipple, insert one, two, three fingers in rapid succession and impale. As Severus teased him time and time again, Harry did something he had never done in his life. Harry relaxed and let himself ride the waves of pleasure. He realized, with a start, that he trusted the former Death Eater not to hurt him.

Severus sat up and looked around; thinking he heard something, but there was nothing out of place. His hands caressed the smooth flesh of the younger wizard. Muggle photographs did not do justice to the beautiful elf beneath him. He could easily become lost in those expressive green eyes.

The dark wizard teased the tender flesh between Harry’s inner thighs and performed a spell of lubrication, relaxation and protection. Harry made a sound that almost sounded like a giggle.

"It’s cold," he whispered with a rare shy smile. Of course, Harry knew about the spell Severus used – all boys fifth year and above did – but had never expected anyone to use it on him. Savagely ridiculed for his supposed sexual deviancy by his Hogwarts classmates, Harry never expected to exchange intimacies with a wizard.

Severus rested slender ankles on his shoulders and nudged Harry’s entrance. The young man willed himself to relax, fully expecting Severus to bury himself to the hilt in one thrust, but like the foreplay, Severus’ lovemaking was gentle. He penetrated Harry’s tight channel, forcing himself to take it slow. Initial penetration was always uncomfortable but Severus was careful not to make it painful.

When he was fully seated, the older man kissed and caressed his small lover until he was sure Harry’s body had adjusted to the invader. He varied his rhythm and angle, occasionally brushing the prostate and keeping Harry on edge. Severus had been afraid that with Harry’s background, he would be a passive "bottom" and fake his responses so as to not anger his "top", but the younger man’s reactions were genuine.

Severus reached between them and wrapped his fingers around Harry’s hard cock. He pumped to the same lazy rhythm as his thrusts. Harry’s face was flushed and his eyes dilated in passion. The older man planted kisses along the slender shoulder. He quickened his pace when Harry moaned deliciously.

"You’re so beautiful, my Harry," Severus whispered as he felt Harry tense against him. "Come for me."

Harry pulled Severus down into a messy kiss, devouring the Potion Master as his small body shuddered out his orgasm. Severus could feel his own climax coating the pulsing channel.

Bill sat up. His mind was in turmoil and he couldn’t sleep. Intending to head down to the study for a book to read, the cursebreaker paused at the door to Severus’ bedroom. In the soft glow of the fireplace, he could see his occasional lover and Harry asleep in the middle of the massive bed. Severus had Harry in a protective grasp, the small wizard tucked safely beneath his chin.

As if sensing his presence, Severus’ dark eyes opened. He shifted his position, making sure Harry was still asleep and secure. Bill stepped into the bedroom, uncertainly.

"I apologize, Bill." Severus said softly.

"Don’t," replied the tall redhead. "You’ve fantasized about him for a long time."

"I have not," Severus denied too quickly and Bill just smiled, thinking of a certain calendar hanging on the kitchen wall.

"You’re not angry?"

"No, Sev. You and I are friends. We both knew we were never going to be one another’s Grande Passion."

Bill shivered in the cold night air. Wrapping his night robe closer to his bare chest, he looked fleetingly at Severus’ large warm bed. He wanted to crawl under the thick duvet and curl up against the dark wizard but his common sense kicked in. Harry was already in bed with the Potion Master. What would the damaged young man think if he awoke in a bed with two men?

"It’s late, Sev. I need to get some sleep." Bill softly closed the door behind him and returned to his lonely bed.

Harry shifted in his sleep, perplexed when he could not move. Opening his eyes, his confusion abated. He was pressed against the length of the Potion Master’s naked body, held in place by a thin arm slung across his chest.

Other than Uncle Leon, Harry had never slept with another. He had always left his other partners shortly after sex, feeling too vulnerable to sleep with them. He wasn’t sure how he felt about his current situation.

Slowly, as to not awaken Severus, Harry wriggled out from the possessive arm. The young wizard rolled onto his back, staring up as the firelight cast odd designs on the ornate plaster ceiling. Severus reached out in his sleep, searching. He murmured something and quieted when he snaked one long arm around Harry’s waist.

Harry looked at the sleeping wizard beside him. He was confused. He had heard Bill’s voice in the bedroom late last night, but Bill wasn’t there. A part of him was relieved not to see the redhead. Did Bill expect Harry to have sex with him too?

Severus turned in his sleep, curling up around a pillow. Harry shifted toward the edge of the mattress. He needed time alone to think about what had happened the night before. What in the nine hells possessed him to initiate a sexual liaison with his former professor? Harry’s reality had definitely gone pear shaped.

A human Severus was even more confusing to him than the usual snarky git persona. Frightened by the sudden, unwanted appearance of Alistair back into his life, Harry was grateful for the security the dark wizard offered, but how had Severus known how to find him? Was he trading one stalker for another? Would the price of security come at too high a price?

He had expected sex with Severus to be cold and methodical, but Severus had made love to him, not simply fucked him. Harry could tell the difference. What did the Slytherin want from him? My Harry. Harry shuddered.

The sound of the shower woke Bill up. He was alone in his bed. He rubbed the grit out of his eyes and looked at the alarm clock beside him. It was still early - plenty of time to have a leisurely breakfast and then a bath before his meetings at Gringotts in the late afternoon.

Stepping into the kitchen, Bill had expected to find it vacant, but the smell of fresh scones tickled his nostrils. Harry sat at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper. The green-eyed wizard looked up, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Didn’t know if you drank coffee or tea...so I made both." Harry turned a page of the two-day old Daily Prophet and let out an amused snort. The picture of Ron Weasley in his Quidditch uniform had been tampered with. The former Gryffindor sported an inked-on mustache and beard as well as an obscenity scrawled across his chest. The moving image glared up at him, trying to rub the ink off his face.

"Your handiwork?"

"The twins aren’t the only Weasleys that think Ron needs to be hexed for the way he’s destroyed your life... Don’t waste your time on that rag, Harry. It’s full of rubbish anyway." Bill ignited the newsprint with a casual flick of his wand. He hoped Harry had not read the articles about the war heroes, but he figured he probably had.

Bill poured a mug of coffee and buttered a scone. It was orange poppy seed. "You made these?"

Harry nodded as he toyed with "The Quibbler", half expecting it to go up in flames as well. He stared off toward the animal welfare calendar hanging on the wall. Someone kept turning the calendar pages to October. What in Merlin’s name was Severus doing with a Muggle calendar? Especially THIS Muggle calendar.

Nervous at being alone with Bill and not wanting to fill the uneasy silence with idle chatter, Harry began to collect the dirty dishes into a neat stack. He pushed his chair back, wincing slightly as he stood.

Bill caught the wince and smiled. His long arm wrapped around Harry’s waist as the smaller wizard reached across the table to gather the stacked dishes. Harry froze when Bill’s hands rested on his hips.

"A little sore this morning, Babe? I can help take care of that for you." The playfulness of Bill’s tone was lost on Harry who pulled away in panic. "Harry?"

Harry’s heart was beating rapidly. "So am I just part of your game?"

"Game? What game?"

"The whole friends with benefits game...Severus has had me so now its your turn? Share and share alike?"

Bill pulled Harry to his chest, wrapping his arms around the struggling young man. Harry had alluded to them sharing lovers the evening before, but Bill had shrugged it off, thinking he was trying to force their departure. Did Harry truly think he was merely a plaything to be passed around and shared? He rested his cheek on the top of Harry’s head.

"Sev does not take casual lovers, Babe. I don’t know that he ever has. His affair with me was a mistake...I can’t give him what he needs."

Harry relaxed slightly as Bill continued to hold him. "Sev’s not like I am...I chase anything and everything... skirts, robes...you name it...but he’s selective...But don’t fret, Harry...once I realized it was you in that sexy black dress...strictly off limits."

"Not wiling to lower yourself to shag the ‘Whore of Gryffindor’?" Harry could not conceal the hurt in his voice.

Bill released Harry from his embrace, but continued to hold him at arm’s length. It hurt to see the pain in the brilliant green eyes, but as Bill thought back to his initial meeting with the then fourteen year old Harry Potter, shadows lived behind those eyes even then.

"You couldn’t be further from the truth, Lovey. I want nothing more than to throw you over this table and claim your sexy little arse...to kidnap you and keep you mine forever...but that’s a fantasy that will never come to fruition...like it or not...you’re a surrogate Weasley...you’re family...and that’s a line I will never cross."

Family. Harry mulled the concept over in his head. The twins had tried to tell him everyone didn’t hate him or think he was a cosmic joke, but at the time the pain of rejection by the wizarding world had been too raw.

"If...If I’m off limits...then what was that about helping take care of my soreness?"

"A pain potion, you little twit. I’ll go snag you one from Sev’s private stash." Bill winked, but Harry did not smile. He just gave a short nod to his head. Bill cursed himself. He would need to choose his words more carefully; Harry’s emotional state was precarious at best. The silence returned to the kitchens.

Harry poured Bill another cup of coffee and gathered the forgotten stack of dishes. He set the plates in the sink and reached for a cloth to wash them in Muggle fashion. His eyes drifted to the calendar on the wall. Dropping the cloth in the slowly filling sink, he walked over to the calendar.

Bill watched him in curiosity, trying to judge Harry’s reactions as he lifted the much-turned pages and gazed at himself and Hedwig gracing the October slot, wearing naught but a smile.

"Harry?"

Harry looked toward Bill, hearing the cursebreaker’s words echo in his ears – "Sev does not take casual lovers". His face paled. He glanced once again at his pinup and then back to the cursebreaker. "Where did he get this?"

Bill shrugged, not telling Harry that he had sent it to the Potion Master himself. Harry was ill at ease and looked ready to bolt. The small wizard’s heart raced. Was Severus truly any less dangerous than Alistair?

"Last...Last night...it was more than a one-off for him, wasn’t it?"