"We need your advice about Harry," were not the words that Snape had been hoping to hear when Fred and George cornered him alone in the library late that Sunday afternoon. He'd decided that, for Harry's benefit, he would spend Sunday nights with the twins while Harry would enjoy both Saturday and the occasional Monday nights in their care, and he'd been hoping they wanted an early start.

Snape forced himself to stop sulking and pay attention to the matter at hand. "What is it?" he asked, leading them to a comfortable little settee in one corner of the library, where he took the middle. Hope, he thought wryly, did spring eternal.

"Well," Fred began, snuggling quite happily up on one side where he could exchange those opaque glances with George, "Harry asked us to tie him up."

Snape nodded, and George picked up the thread. "It was incredible, of course, but..."

"...Worse than we'd expected," Fred finished. "I know you don't want to hear the details, but I think you need some of them for this.

"It's all right," said Snape, resigning himself to a very frustrating afternoon. "If you require my assistance, then there's nothing else to be done." He paused, then let a small smile find its way out to ease the seriousness of the conversation for a moment and added, "You can always take care of anything that might come up."

Fred chuckled. "We can, so long as Moody isn't playing I Spy."

"Why are he and Shacklebolt here, anyway? It was hell sneaking Harry into our room last night," George asked curiously, fingers teasing up and down the line of buttons on the front of Snape's robes.

Snape rolled his eyes and explained, "They're helping to undo some rather nasty magic down in the old potions laboratory. We finished this morning, however, so they should be leaving after dinner." He devoutly hoped so, anyway; there was no way he'd be able to relax and enjoy the things he'd been planning for this evening with Moody and that blasted magical eye lurking about.

"Right," said Fred, giving Snape's thigh a squeeze. "Well, anyway, we'd brought some rope and other things."

"For tonight, more than anything," George explained quickly, as Snape's eyebrow rose.

"And we tied him in a pretty exposed position," Fred continued, rolling his eyes at them both.

"Arms out, and ankles to the headboard so his arse was in the air," George explained, holding up one arm and ankle in an absurd demonstration.

Snape swallowed hard and said, "I can imagine." He could, too, the spread of creamy white thighs with the shockingly black thatch of fur at their apex, Harry's bollocks looking helpless and tempting, his little opening exposed completely by the pose, pink and wrinkled and oh so very inviting. "How did he react?"

"We could've done anything to him," said George, looking over at Fred with real concern in his eyes.

Fred saw Snape's face, then shook his head and explained. "You don't get it. He would've let us do literally anything to him. Fuck him, hit him, cut him up or even kill him, and he wouldn't have protested one bit."

"Once the blindfold went on, it was even worse," said George, slumping in on himself a little.

"Usually, you rely on the sub to, you know, tell you when something hurts too much, or is doing damage you haven't agreed upon," Fred explained quietly, and Snape grew suddenly very still.

"Harry's all right?" he asked, looking from one to the other sharply.

"He's fine, he didn't even realize what had happened, and we know a lot of healing spells," said George, gaze fixed resolutely on the spot where his fingers kept un- and refastening a single button near Snape's breastbone.

"I was biting him," said Fred quietly. "I mean, I wanted to see how much pain he really liked, you know? Like with you and the nipple pinching. Only he liked all of it, more than I expected, and the next thing I know I've got blood in my mouth and..."

"I saw the red and pulled him off," said George quietly, stroking his hand over Fred's where it rested on Snape's thigh. "He didn't take a chunk out or anything, and I don't think it'll have scarred, we couldn't find the mark this morning, but... it was awful."

"We don't know what to do," said Fred helplessly, looking up into Snape's face with his own troubled gaze, as if searching for answers there.

Snape nodded, then leaned back just a little, pulling the two men closer to him more for comfort than anything else. "And Harry didn't even notice anything had gone awry, and I suspect protested when the biting stopped, correct?" he asked, trying to stay clinical about this.

"Right, he... he said it had felt really good, and when I looked, he'd..." Fred stopped and shook his head.

"He'd come," said George quietly. "We spent the rest of the night on nothing but pleasure, and he loved that just as much and didn't even seem to miss the painful parts, but..."

"He scared you with his ability to transmute any sensation into pleasure," Snape finished for them, getting startled looks of agreement from both of them. "I expect you'd find it possible to tickle him until he came, though some kinds of pain by their very nature would preclude orgasm," he said, not wanting to speak of his own experiences with being whipped until he'd come himself dry, or having his testicles gently crushed under a booted foot until he felt sick with pain and wanting, and unable to achieve release.

They both seemed to understand somehow anyway, snuggling in closer, petting him in a manner he'd have found mortifying just a week ago, before they'd showed him such understanding in the bedroom, alongside their skill and prowess. "So, how do we teach him not to be what he is?" George asked plaintively.

Fred spoke quietly, his voice holding resignation as well as a sense of something akin to wonder. "It seems such a shame, to make him deny such a treasure. If we'd known, with practice... he'd be the perfect..."

"It is a shame," said Snape, long fingers stroking down one freckled cheek, looking sallow and strange against the fair health of Fred's skin. "But he doesn't have to give that up entirely, he just needs to learn to rein it in."

George sighed and nuzzled at Snape's neck, arm going around Snape's waist as he said, "We just feel out of our depth to teach him."

"When we don't really understand it ourselves," said Fred, leaning into Snape's other side.

Snape nodded; it was a problem, because he wasn't allowed to take a direct hand, and yet he was the only person involved who truly understood what Harry was battling. "Tell me more about his reactions, what he does and when he goes into each state of being," he said, hoping that he could glean enough information like this, by proxy.

"Well, when he got to our room he was already excited," said Fred with a grin. He and George exchanged glances, and then settled in to tell the tale, which was, they had to admit, quite an erotic one aside from the one hitch.

"He was flushed, nearly panting, and hard in his pyjamas, which he shucked off as soon as the wards were up."

"Then he made his sly little suggestion about bondage, and his eyes were gleaming."

"He was practically bouncing with glee when we agreed, he was so happy. It was funny, when I asked if he'd been fantasizing about it for a long time he said no, he'd only just thought of it but he wanted it so very much."

Snape nodded. "I'm sure he would have come to the idea on his own even without our influence, it's a very compelling one to the right personality," he said, his own breath coming more quickly and shallowly as he remembered his own early yearnings in that direction, innocent and trusting as he'd been. It had all been so good then, before it had all gone so wrong.

Fred nodded and picked up the thread of the narrative. "Well, we stripped off too, which he loves, he's always looking at us with this hunger..."

"Like we're the tastiest treacle tart he's ever seen and it's all for him," George interjected with a wicked little grin.

"And then he flopped down on the bed and asked us where we wanted him. Just laying down like that seemed to do something inside him, especially once he spread himself out like a banquet."

"He was just really... available, I guess. You could already see in his eyes that he trusted us, and was eager for whatever new things we'd teach him."

"When the rope came out he got this glazed sort of look, like last week when we were snogging him in the kitchen." Fred and George exchanged wicked little grins at that memory, and the ones after it that were called up as well.

"I remember. So, neither of you had touched him yet?" Snape asked, though he had to swallow twice to get the words out. His prick was rising rapidly and he had to shift in an embarrassingly obvious way to keep it from being uncomfortably bent.

George grinned and adjusted it just a little for him, the hand hot and enticing through Snape's trousers before it was taken away. "We'd given him a few kisses, but nothing major. This was pretty much all from whatever was going on in his head, I think."

Snape nodded, and Fred continued. "I wasn't really watching his face while we tied him up."

"We were more concerned about making sure the ropes weren't too tight or anything, and that we had quick-release knots where Harry could get to them if he needed to."

"An ironic precaution, considering he would neither think to use them with you, nor have them present were he truly held captive, but a laudable one," said Snape with a wry chuckle.

"Well, we didn't think of that," George said tetchily.

"Anyway," said Fred, rolling his eyes at both of them, "Once we got him tied up he was still talking a bit."

"He made a crack about it being time for us to molest him."

"The blindfold came next and it was just, like, the icing on the cake. He went from joking around to melted Harry in about two minutes, with very little stimulation. After that we couldn't really get a whole lot of response from him."

"Other than, 'oh yes, oh god, more,' and that sort of thing, anyway."

"And he seemed to not just tolerate but actively enjoy basically everything we did, spanking, biting, fingering, licking, pinching, everything. No pain too big, no pleasure too small to get a rise out of our Harry."

Snape sighed and said, "That's enough." Though he might want more details of their exploits, he felt it wouldn't be truly fair to ask for them just to satisfy his own prurience. "I believe the step you need to work on is keeping Harry thinking, perhaps by keeping him talking while you touch him. I'll show you a few techniques tonight, while you're being my little playthings."

"Can't we be your playthings now?" said Fred, batting his eyelashes rather absurdly.

George's hand unerringly found the bulge in Snape's trousers and began to massage it. Snape was just considering their offer very seriously when he heard the library door open and they all sprang apart guiltily. "Bugger it all," George swore, adjusting his clothing to cover up his arousal as best he could.

Snape crossed his legs and stayed sitting, pulling a small book out of an inner pocket and hoping very much that he seemed to be reading rather than pretending not to have been contemplating molestation of his former -- and current -- students.

"You in here, Snape?" came Kingsley's deep voice echoing through the room.

Snape breathed a sigh of relief; nothing they'd done would have fooled Moody and that damnable eye of his, which Snape had always suspected got used for a lot more peeping and other tomfoolery than Moody admitted. "I'm back here with the twins," he called, grateful that the slim volume he'd tucked away earlier was actually a collection of essays on magical culinary arts he'd meant to give to Fred and George, if they pleased him later.

Kingsley found them easily enough; when he rounded the bookshelves he was changed out of his dirty work robes from earlier and his dark skin fair gleamed. "I, ah, wondered if we were done?" Kingsley glanced at the three of them, looking very much as though they'd had a conversation interrupted, but, Snape hoped, not quite so personal a conversation as had actually been taking place. "I told Meredith from Accounting that I'd take her out if we finished up in time for dinner..." He trailed off and looked at Snape with an odd combination of curiosity, hopefulness and challenge.

"I believe that Ha- Mr. Potter and I can attend to the remaining tasks without your assistance," said Snape, forcing his voice into its usual sneering tone. "Go meet with your little paramour, so I may continue what remains of my holidays in peace."

Kingsley rolled his eyes and gave an ironic little bow. "I'm off, then," he said, turning to Fred and George. "It was an unexpected treat to see you two again, thanks for the discount on the Whiz-Bangs."

"Not a problem," said George, giving Kingsley a wink.

Fred shot him an equally conspiratorial grin and said, "I take it you've plans to use them?"

"I've got an idea or two, yes," said Kingsley with a grin. "No one will notice the nibbled packaging, so it works out for all of us." Kingsley gave Snape one last look of disdain, then turned on his heel and walked out, whistling tunelessly as he went.

"One down," said George, plopping back down on the sofa next to Snape and toying with his buttons again.

Fred joined them, hand immediately finding and kneading Snape's thigh and said, "One to go."

"What's actually wrong with the fireworks you sold him?" Snape asked, one eyebrow raised as he attempted to studiously ignore the hands roaming over his front.

George chuckled. "It really was just a bit of nibbled packaging," he said, leaning in to demonstrate on Snape's neck.

"We felt it would be good to have an in with an Auror," Fred explained, his hand making its way up Snape's thigh as he spoke. He captured Snape's mouth in a kiss that left no question at all as to his intentions, cupping Snape's prick and stroking it through the many layers of cloth.

Snape let out a low moan and spread his legs, then thought he might scream in frustration as the library door squeaked open once more.

"Professor? Are you in here?" called Harry's familiar voice, and they all three relaxed, though Snape did push their hands away.

"We've got him trapped back here," called out George, slipping his other hand under Snape's arse where Harry couldn't see, long fingers seeking the warm crease.

Fred stole another kiss, giving Snape's cock a quick, final squeeze before pulling back with a look of patently false innocence. "You can borrow him if you'd like, though," he said in a singsong voice, earning a glare from Snape.

Harry was grinning when he appeared between the stacks, looking rather like he'd just awakened from a nap with his cheeks flushed and eyes sleepy. His hair always looked as though he'd just woken up to Snape. Or been shagged. "No fair molesting him where impressionable youths could see and not be allowed to stay and watch," said Harry, leaning against one of the shelves with a muffled yawn.

"Were you seeking me for a reason, Harry, or is this a social visit?" Snape asked, trying to maintain his dignity with Fred and George both nuzzling at his neck and ears.

"Why don't you come sit in my lap, Harry," said Fred with a playful wink.

George gave Snape a bit of a tug closer and said, "I can hold onto the professor so he doesn't forget himself and ravish you."

"You forget," said Harry, stepping forward to sit, of all places, at Snape's feet, his own tucked under him in a pose that wasn't quite kneeling, "I want him to ravish me." He looked up at Snape with an impish little grin, then relented and answered Snape's question as well. "I woke up from my nap and had an idea about our next Etiquette lesson."

"Oh?" said Snape, not nearly so archly as he might have under other circumstances.

Harry snickered, and Snape supposed his attempt to sound open to suggestion had been only partially successful. "Well," Harry said, chewing on his lower lip in a most inviting fashion, "I thought maybe we could do a bit of a practical, with all three of you, er, vying for my hand. You said that might happen sometimes, and I don't really understand how I'm meant to choose."

"That's a great idea!" said Fred, reaching down to ruffle Harry's already-disorderly hair.

George leaned on Snape's shoulder and gave him a disturbingly effeminate look of pleading and said, "Can we, Professor?"

Snape thought about protesting for a moment just to see what they'd offer for bribery, but found himself relenting under Harry's earnest gaze. "That's a very good idea, Harry," he said, allowing himself the liberty of stroking just once through the soft mop of hair. "How about tomorrow night I have the elves set up our usual classroom to better resemble one of the private clubs, and we can entice you to join us for a light supper and see who can win your favour?"

"That would be brilliant," said Harry, leaning his head against Snape's knee in a manner obviously meant to seem nonchalant, though Snape wasn't fooled for a moment.

"Excellent. In fact, if I may borrow your Weasleys for a bit on Monday afternoon, we can visit Gringott's and bring you some tokens to choose from," said Snape, mind ranging ahead. He actually hated the idea of Harry wearing any token other than his own, but he owed it to the boy to take him through the full measure of the dance, and not just the steps that led where Snape wanted them to go.

They lapsed into silence, hands moving idly to pet and caress wherever they pleased, Fred and George's ranging over both Snape and Harry, Snape's seeming stuck in Harry's hair with the other trapped behind Fred's larger bulk and tracing patterns against the warm back.

It came as no surprise at all when the door sounded for a third time, though this time no one bothered to move much, other than Snape's hand dropping to his own lap. He was sure Moody would only be insufferably smug if Snape made the effort to struggle up out of the couch to maintain his dignity, since he was also sure Moody could see them just fine from the door. "Can we help you?" said Snape, in his nastiest possible tone.

The unmistakeable sound of Moody's gait moved closer, until his shaggy head peeked out at them. "Awfully cosy, aren't ya?" he said, eyeing them all warily and staying well out of reach and half-hidden by the bookcase. "Since when does Snape allow anyone closer than arm's length?"

"Since these three learned to bathe, which is more than I can say for you," Snape replied, heartily tired of having his lovely afternoon interrupted, though he couldn't complain too much about Harry's addition to the group. Even if it did mean he wasn't going to get blown in the library as he'd hoped.

Moody's eye rolled alarmingly, and he snorted. "Just make sure his disposition doesn't rub off on you, eh, boys? One of him's enough," he said, staring as though he expected Snape to suddenly turn into an impostor.

"Yes, yes," said Snape testily. "You were looking for us for a reason, I presume, other than to irritate and offend?"

"Ha! Yes, as that's your job around here," said Moody, and just to be contrary Snape put his hand back atop Harry's head. Snape got a great deal of amusement at Moody's shocked look, one gnarled hand moving toward his wand. "I was just wantin' to tell you I've been poking around that storeroom next to the potions lab, and it'll probably need just as much care. I don't have time, I've got to leave right after dinner, but I'll owl Dumbledore to arrange for another day we can take care of it."

"And you couldn't wait for dinner to tell me this?" Snape asked, stroking Harry's head in a way he was sure would be reported to Dumbledore and cause him to pay dearly for the sublime pleasure of simultaneously stroking the boy and offending Moody.

"Dinner's up, that's why I came lookin'," said Moody, still eyeing Snape suspiciously. "You boys sure he's really Snape?" he said finally, making all three of them laugh.

"He's really Snape," said George, flexing the hand still wedged under Snape's bum.

Harry just turned a cynical gaze on Moody as if daring him to object to a perfectly innocent touch that Harry obviously enjoyed, which gave Snape no end of satisfaction. "I assure you I am who I appear to be, Alastor," said Snape, sliding his hand away with a sigh and giving Harry a gentle nudge. "You have simply never before seen me in company I actually enjoy."

Fred obviously couldn't resist that, and he gave Moody an absurd leer and said, "We're always enjoyable."

Harry stifled a laugh and stood up, dusting himself off unselfconsciously. "He's still his nasty old self," said Harry, turning and offering Snape a hand up, which Snape took with a little smirk. "I've just worn him down over the years."

"I've grown resigned," said Snape dramatically, allowing Harry to pull him up out of the chair and hoping his full robes would disguise both his persistent erection and the exact placement of Weasley's hand on the cushion.

"Well, I've grown hungry," said Moody irritably, turning around though Snape got the distinct impression the eye stayed fixed on him.

"Dinner it is, and then we'll let you be about your business," said Snape, putting one hand very lightly on Harry's lower back to encourage him on his way. On the whole, though he was sure he'd have to deal with several absurd conversations with Albus, Snape found that baiting Moody was almost as fun as baiting Potter had once been. He made his way down to the kitchens with an amused sort of anticipation; he hadn't realized how much fun it would be acting kindly toward Harry in front of other people, and he was looking forward to an entire meal of practice.

---

After all the naughty schoolboy innuendo at dinner, Snape half expected Fred and George to be decked out in their old Hogwarts robes when he finally slipped into their room, especially since he'd wasted far too long reassuring Moody that he was still himself and not a Polyjuiced impostor. Instead, Snape found them nude and entangled on the bed, kissing and caressing with the same unselfconscious affection that had originally drawn Snape to them. He shut the door behind him silently and leaned against it, arms akimbo, then cleared his throat loudly. They sprang apart with gratifying expressions of sheepish lust, and he raised one eyebrow and said, "Starting without me?"

Their manner stayed contrite, though an edge of their customary mischievousness crept in as they scooted closer together again, pressing their bodies into a continuous field of pale skin and ginger hair, liberally sprinkled with freckles as though they'd had an accident with the brown paint. George batted his eyelashes and said, "We grew so lonely without you, sir."

"We needed something to keep us warm," Fred added, toying idly with one of George's peaked nipples.

"I believe you need a reminder of your place," said Snape dangerously, removing from his robes a thin metal stirring rod he'd retrieved from the kitchen before coming up. "Especially after all the teasing you've been indulging in tonight." He strode forward slowly, slapping the rod against his palm to test the whippy, stinging little device. "Getting me all hot in the library," he purred, "and then not following through."

Their eyes went wide, but their rampant pricks didn't wilt a centimetre, so Snape proceeded. "Present those naughty arses of yours," he said, adding with a mind for Harry's later tuition, "You will count each strike, then thank me for it and ask for another. You must both manage all three things each time, or we will take the count back to zero." He allowed an evil grin to blossom on his normally dour features as he watched them scramble to comply.

"Yes, sir," they said in unison, their eyes wide. Fred positioned himself so he was on hands and knees at the very edge of the bed, and George chose to stand and bend at the waist, though not so close so as to risk taking peripheral damage from one another's punishments.

Snape came around behind and began to run the blunt end of the rod, tipped with little round ball, over and under their low-hanging sacs, first George's and then Fred's, urging their legs wider with little thwacks to the inner thighs. "Twenty each, I think, for your cheek," said Snape, positioning himself on the left at Fred's side, so that he could easily reach both of them to punish whomever he chose on each particular strike.

"Yes, sir," they said again, not quite so simultaneous this time, though their eyes were locked on one another.

Snape took a moment just to admire the picture they made, broad backs and smooth skin, not sweating yet though the room was warm enough to make Snape wish he'd worn a bit less clothing. He took a moment to strip off his outer robe and adjust his hard prick, promising the overheated flesh its moment of truth later. For now, he had a lesson to give. "Don't forget to count," he said warningly.

He saw them both tense and smiled grimly, then brought the rod down in a whistling arc onto Fred's upturned arse, right across the fleshiest part. Fred and George both jumped at the smack it made as it hit, and it left a thin white line that swiftly turned red, though Snape knew that this particular instrument would leave no lasting marks. "O-one, sir, thank you may I have another?" Fred blurted out in one stammered breath, his arsecheeks tensing over and over in a manner that put Snape in a mind to skip straight to the fucking, and George's tongue flicking out to wet lips gone dry with anticipation didn't help.

Instead, he brought the rod down again, this time on George's arse, in precisely the same spot. Again, they both jumped, though George's voice was more steady as he recited, "One, sir. Thank you, may I have another?"

"Excellent," Snape praised, running his fingers over Fred's line, already blurring and fading a bit. He'd definitely have to hit harder next time. "The point of this exercise," he began, then paused to bring the rod down onto Fred's arse an inch higher but mostly parallel to the first mark, leaving time to listen to Fred's stuttered recitation. He then continued smoothly, "Is to keep your mind engaged even as I am making use of your body." George took the next strike, and Snape observed the sweat beginning to gather and glisten on their backs, along their spines. Snape took this moment to fondle George's marks a bit, slipping the tip of the rod into the welcoming crease to tease at his entrance.

George moaned softly and arched back, which Snape decided meant he was ready for the next blow. Snape stepped back and delivered it with a bit more force, very near the spot where George's opening was hidden. This got him a lovely little gasp before George managed the proper response, and a strangely disappointed whimper from Fred. "Don't worry, pet, you'll have yours," he said, then delivered it post haste in the same tender spot.

Snape continued in this manner, listening to their voices grow increasingly breathless and uneven, watching the sweat slide over their skin, stopping every few strikes to fondle and tease, to be sure he wasn't hitting too hard or too soft. Soon enough their thighs and arses were both crisscrossed with red stripes, bodies trembling with strain and overload. "You're doing well, both of you," he purred, stopping to stroke their backs, close enough to smell them, clean and musky with a hint of soap and spice. He gave into his libido just enough to lean in and lap at George's skin, teasing his tongue at the top of the crease and tasting salt and skin, then moving over to lick Fred from balls to tailbone -- but not delving deeply enough into his crevice to touch the needy opening.

After all, this was supposed to be punishment for teasing him.

A few more strikes and they'd both stammered out their twenty, and he was grinning and admiring his handiwork while they struggled to stay in place like good little boys. "Now," he said, sitting on the bed between them with an arm slung over each back, "tell me how you feel, one at a time." He trailed his fingers over their skin, tracing the welts, teasing just along each crease but not too deep, curling around and under the heavy sacs gently enough not to disturb their sway.

Fred swallowed once, then again, and finally said, "I'm... fuck, so turned on. And I want you to p-plunge your fingers in me, or lick me anywhere at all. It hurts but it's hotter than it is painful." He paused, then looked over his shoulder to meet Snape's glittering gaze. "Please."

"All in due time," said Snape, giving one welt a little pinch. He turned to look over the other shoulder and saw George's needy face, so he prompted, "And you?"

"Y-your touches make my s-skin so sensitive that everything feels like it's burning, l-like I'm trapped in a heat shimmer with sunlight striping my skin so bright it's lines of pain," George said between stolen breaths, unabashed in his language. "I want to be used by you, cooled or heated up to combustion, something, anything," he said, then paused and bit his lip before echoing his brother. "Please."

Snape slipped his middle fingertips down, first pressing up behind two nearly-identical sets of balls and getting two nearly-identical groans for his troubles, then moving in a slow glide up and in until he was circling those lovely, needy openings. "The real question isn't whether or not I'll have you both," he said, with a wicked grin that only he got to see, "But who gets to go first."

A Question of Etiquette XIV: Tokens and Symbols