Severus was sitting peacefully on the bed, his hair curling wet around the shoulders of a soft sage-green nightshirt. The bare feet resting on top of the worn quilt threatened to grab Harry's entire attention as soon as the door opened, but he was saved by the twins crowding in behind him. "Signed, sealed, and delivered as ordered, sir!" said Fred with a mock salute.

"Although you might want to wash him up before you put him away," added George with a leer.

"In fact, how about I just get you settled in the bath, Harry?" said Fred, leading him to the tiny bathroom. "George, you'll bring his pyjamas in, won't you?"

"That I will, my dear brother," George replied, his tone jaunty and mischievous.

After they closed the door, Fred started the tub filling noisily and said, "I know this is kind of rude, but we felt that Severus needed to know about how... responsive you are. Because it could get you in trouble later, if you were with someone that isn't one of us."

Harry blushed, remembering his own voice pleading to be fucked, and the thrill of desire he'd gotten when Fred called him a slut. He nodded, though, saying, "It's bloody mortifying, but he probably ought to know."

Fred tested the bath for warmth, then smiled lasciviously and reached out to divest Harry of his clothing for the second time that night. "It's good to see you trusting someone," he said as Harry slid gratefully into the warm water. "Especially him."

Despite the cleaning charms, Harry still felt a bit sticky, and kept expecting to reach up and find come drying in odd places. He ducked briefly under the surface, deliberately getting Fred wet when he shook the water out of his eyes. "It's hard, you know. Trusting," said Harry softly, looking around for shampoo or hair potion. He spotted Severus' bottles on the sink and said with a grin, "Pass me those, will you? I don't have any of my own."

"Let me make sure they're things you can use first?" said Fred dubiously. "I'll bring in your flannel and pyjamas as well." Harry shrugged and nodded, relaxing into the water and deliberately letting his knees drift apart. "Tease." Fred shook his head and took the bottles out into the main room, closing the door carefully behind him.

Harry lounged in the water, trying not to feel as though the adults were talking about him behind his back. Fred and George were only two years older than him, but it had seemed like a whole different world in the cosy little flat above their very own store. Harry was still a schoolboy, still being sheltered and coddled and, lest we forget, trained for murder. He sighed and tried to shake off the self-pity, drawing on the memories of Fred and George and their hands on his body.

He was too spent to get much of a reaction, physically, but he let his fingers trail over his body, the water ghosting over his skin in a silken caress in their wake. His nipples were slightly sore and very sensitive, sending little jolts of pleasure straight to his balls when he flicked his thumbs over them, remembering George's careful torment. He let his hands trail down between his thighs, a finger circling around his hole. He'd had another man's finger there tonight, two men, in fact, touching his most private place.

His cock twitched a little, growing thicker but still soft, floating a bit in the warm bath. He'd had sex tonight, real sex with two handsome men who thought he was worth touching, who thought he was worth spending the time to be careful with, considerate of. A far cry from being kept in a cupboard, Fred and George had treated him tenderly, but more than that, they'd used him well, giving him everything they thought he could take. They might've held back because of his inexperience, but they hadn't treated him at all like a child; he'd been an equal in their bed, in pleasure if not in the love they shared between them.

Harry worked a fingertip into himself, remembering the feel of George tormenting him, of Fred's thick finger sliding up to the knuckle, making him come. He leaned back against the tub, arching his hips, sliding in and out with the utmost care. He'd need soap for more than just this single finger, and that barely halfway in, but this wasn't about coming as much as touching anyway, reacquainting himself with his body after losing some small portion of his purity.

He opened his eyes at the gasp from the doorway, George's face gratifyingly flushed with lust at the sight of him. "Lucky thing Severus didn't bring these in," said George lightly, tossing Harry's flannel at him and setting the pyjamas more carefully on the counter. He set two of the bottles within reach of the tub, explaining, "This one is shampooing potion, and this is a body washing potion." His eyes flickered to Harry's hands, stilled in their provocative positions.

"All right," said Harry with a slow, sweet smile. "You know," he added, reaching for the body potion with his free hand, "That look on your face could give a bloke the idea he was attractive."

Harry pulled his finger reluctantly away, then poured some of the soap into his hand. It smelled softly of cleanliness and vanilla, with a strange hint of cloves and wild things. He got his fingers nice and slick, then lifted his hips nearly out of the water and slid one inside himself with a sigh. George's eyes were wide and dark, and his hands were gripping the edge of the sink until the knuckles went white.

"You know you are," said George softly, voice strained.

Harry was almost fully erect now, a deep ache in his balls telling him that he probably wouldn't come a fourth time regardless. "No, actually," said Harry, fucking himself on that finger, adding a second when he found himself relaxed enough. "I've never thought so."

He slid the fingers deep, his other hand braced on the edge of the tub, watching the play of lust over George's features as he tried to formulate a response. "You've never..." George trailed off as Harry bit his lip, brushing lightly over that place deep inside. George shook himself, then said more strongly, "How many boys your age do you think have three grown men making fools of themselves over him?"

Harry might've answered, but a knock at the door startled him into a much stronger jolt against his prostate, and he cried out wordlessly instead, body tightening with pleasure. "Er, George?" said Fred's voice through the door.

"Yes, Fred?" George replied, eyes never leaving Harry.

"Severus would like to talk to us both if you're not, er, busy." Fred's voice sounded faintly disapproving, and Harry felt a twinge of guilt.

"He's just watching," called Harry, his voice a bit hoarse. "You're welcome to join him."

The door opened carefully, and Fred's head peeked around it, eyes going wide as he caught sight of Harry, still fingering himself in the tub. Harry deliberately stroked his gland, sending sparks through his body and a soft cry of pleasure from his lips, then pulled his fingers out and relaxed. "Go on. I promise I'll be good and wash up and stop distracting you," he said with a little mischievous smile.

"We've created a monster," said George, shaking his head as he followed Fred out. They closed the door behind them, and Harry grinned to himself. He hoped Snape had enjoyed the noises as well; although he planned on being good and not tempting Snape overmuch during the next year, he'd wanted to get in a last little dig before the silencing spells went up and his chance would be gone.

His erection was already wilting again without the extra stimulation, so he hurried up with the business of washing, the splashing masking any conversation that he probably didn't want to hear anyway. It was one thing to know someone had your best interests at heart, and quite another to listen to them discuss what a wanton slut you'd become at the first sight of cock. He concentrated instead on the spicy bergamot scent of the shampoo and the way it blended seamlessly with the body wash, on getting the last vestiges of sweat and come off his body, on the soothing feeling of warm water against his still-sensitive skin.

He let the tub drain and dried himself on the towel they'd provided with the room, brushed his teeth and said a quick drying spell over his flannel so he wouldn't forget it, then slipped into his old, worn pyjamas. He'd forgotten to get new ones, but he could stand these until their second trip to Diagon Alley at the end of the summer. Or maybe he could get the twins to buy him some, although he might end up with a pair that had an alarm when you got an erection, or were covered in little fluffy kittens, or something.

"I'm coming out," he announced to no one in particular, emerging to find Fred and George sitting on his bed, and all eyes on him. "I hope you've done discussing what's to be done to keep me from endangering myself in my childish ignorance, or whatever," he said, a bit spitefully. He suddenly found it somewhat tiresome that they were willing to shag him, but not talk about it in front of him.

"I believe that they meant only to spare you the embarrassment of having your... specific exploits... discussed with an uninvolved fourth party," said Snape carefully. "I assure you that you and I will be having a private conversation of our own, as soon as they have gone."

"Oh," said Harry, feeling a bit foolish. "Sorry, it's just that..."

"You are used to being left ignorant of important facts about your life, and having decisions made for you on the basis of those facts," Snape finished for him, voice heavy with disapproval. "I will not keep you in the dark in this, Harry, even it if means having conversations outside the boundaries of strict propriety."

"Thank you," he said, putting his dirty things away in his trunk thoughtfully.

"We're gonna go, and let you two talk, all right, Harry?" said Fred, standing up and looking a touch... reluctant? Something, Harry thought, that he'd have to explore later.

"Can I have goodbye kisses, or will that offend your sense of dignity, Severus?" Harry asked, an impish smile taking the edge of his words.

"I believe," said Snape, standing carefully so as not to flash any of them any more leg beneath his nightshirt than was absolutely necessary, "That we may all enjoy the benefits of a fond farewell."

Harry smiled at the memory of the last time he himself had used those words, after his first real kiss with Snape. Fred pulled Harry into his arms, and George walked around them to similarly embrace Snape. The kiss this time was sweet and affectionate, and Harry almost checked to make sure he hadn't gotten the twins mixed up when Fred whispered in his ear, "Next time, George gets to watch while I make you beg."

A shiver of desire went through Harry and he pressed his smaller form into Fred's embrace for a long moment until it passed. "You're the teachers," he said softly, "Who am I to argue with the curriculum?"

Snape and Fred were already separated when Harry parted from George, and he got another little frisson of desire as they switched partners. George's kiss was deep and full of unspoken meaning, things that Harry didn't understand but warmed him to his toes. "Be good, love," he said gently, squeezing Harry until his breath left him, then planting a final kiss on top of his damp hair.

When Harry looked over, Fred's hand had cupped Snape's face gently, their lips moving over one another with affection and obvious desire. When the kiss broke, they rested their foreheads together and Snape murmured, "Anticipation makes it sweeter."

"Just as long as you don't kill yourself with it," Fred replied, giving Snape a final peck before they parted completely. "We'll be by soon enough."

"You know when I am free, and Harry as well," said Snape, voice rich and low.

"You're next," said George, moving away from Harry and slinging an arm around his brother. "All right, well, Fred's next. But Harry's had his turn, and we've waited a long time to have you, so no backing out now."

Snape's eyes swept over their forms, lust filling them. He gave a small smile and said, "I have no intention of reneging before I have even tasted of your bounty."

"Y'hear that Fred? We've got bounty," said George, eyes twinkling.

"C'mon George, let's go home. Harry's little show gave me some bounty I'd like to share with my brother." The twins both laughed at that, and walked out still tossing innuendo back and forth between snickers. The silence in the room seemed very thick as the door clicked shut behind them.

Snape broke the stillness by moving back to his narrow bed, and Harry noticed for the first time a glass of amber liquid burning with gentle blue fire on the nightstand. "How much have you drunk?" he asked, worried suddenly about Snape's uncharacteristically jovial air.

"A single sip, I assure you. It arrived while you were bathing, and I intend to use it to relax enough to sleep mere feet away from temptation," said Snape, a bit crossly.

"That's all right, then," said Harry with a smile. "I just didn't want to feel we'd taken advantage."

Snape sighed. "It is I who takes advantage of your naive willingness to flaunt convention."

"Bollocks," said Harry. "You've been the soul of discretion, for the most part."

Snape's mouth quirked up in an ironic little half-smile. "For the most part." He settled back against the pillows, strangely off-centre on the small bed. "I have noticed that you respond well to a comforting touch. I believe this next conversation will distress you quite a bit, and I am going to indulge us both by offering you the solace of an embrace for the duration." He patted the space beside him, then held his arm out, obviously making a space for Harry.

Harry practically jumped into the bed, cuddling eagerly against Snape's spare frame. "You will not fall asleep in my bed," he said sternly, reaching for the glass of firewhisky and taking a sip before adding, "and there will be no kissing."

"No kissing, no sleeping. Got it," Harry replied, carefully cataloging the feeling of lying in Snape's arms. Snape's body was all angles, sharp hipbones and knobby knees, slender legs and narrow waist. His shoulders were broad enough, but Harry could feel the ribs beneath his hands, reminding him far more of his own body than the twins' stocky ones, despite the height difference. He rested his head just beneath Snape's collarbone, hearing the heartbeat beneath his ear, soft and steady and just a touch fast.

"I do not normally share this story," said Snape, his voice tight, "And have not told it to anyone in many years. Fred and George do not know, and although you have my permission to discuss it with them, I will not."

Harry nodded, and Snape's hand rested itself on his shoulder gently. Harry took this as encouragement and slid his own arm over Snape's stomach, curving his palm around the sharp point of the opposite hip. He could just see the faint bump of Snape's quiescent prick beneath the nightshirt, and resisted the urge to rub his arm down and over it, unwilling to intrude on the fragile trust they were building.

"You and I have more in common that I could have guessed," Snape continued, voice barely above a murmur in the silent room. "When I first discovered the pleasures of the flesh, I was as easily controlled by my desires as you. Although before and after I was shy and unready, in the throes of passion I would do anything that was asked of me, allow anything to be done to me. The man who introduced me to these things took great advantage of this, goading me into acts which later caused me great distress."

Snape shifted uncomfortably, and his hand on Harry's shoulder tightened. "I was introduced to a group of unscrupulous people, mainly because my... paramour... paraded them through my bed, bringing sometimes as many as three or four other men in once I was past the point of protest. He would tie me to the bed and allow them to use me, making me beg for it, thus neatly avoiding any possible accusation of rape."

The fingers on Harry's shoulder were now tight enough to bruise, and Harry's eyes prickled with pain and sympathy. His chest was tight with emotion, his throat closed and breath shallow, both for the abused boy Severus had been and the fate he himself might have gone to, had he not had Snape, Fred and George looking out for him.

"Eventually they convinced me that I was as corrupt as they, drawing me further into their circle until I found my only possible course of action was to pledge myself to their Dark Lord as well." The last came out as almost a whisper, the pain in his voice strangling the words in Snape's throat.

"Oh, Severus," said Harry softly, fumbling for Snape's free hand, eyesight blurred with unshed tears. They held one another like that for a long time, breath hitching in something that wasn't quite sobs as they kept each other back from the brink. "Thank you for sharing this with me," Harry ventured, once he'd gotten his own emotions in check somewhat.

"You needed to know," said Severus, voice like gravel echoing through the thin chest. "That fate may yet await you at the hands of the Death Eaters, should they discover this weakness. I have enlisted the twins' aid in helping you overcome it."

"Who was it?" Harry asked, dreading the answer but unable to suppress his curiosity.

"He is dead now," said Snape, voice flat and final. "But every male Death Eater currently occupying the Dark Lord's inner circle has had use of my body in the past."

"And yet you still spy for us," said Harry wonderingly. "You go to those meetings and face them." He paused, feeling the stiffness in Snape's body, the tension running beneath the skin like too much electricity. "You're the bravest person I've ever known."

"It was long ago," scraped out Snape's voice, barely audible even in the silent room. "They know better than to try anything anymore."

"Did you... kill him?" said Harry quietly, unsure he wanted to know the answer, but needing to ask.

Snape nodded. "After I took the Mark, and the Dark Lord took his first turn in my bed, I finally found the strength. I was... respected, after that."

Harry shuddered. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like, to be the plaything of all the Death Eaters, to be raped by Voldemort. It was a wonder Snape wanted anything to do with sex at all, after such an introduction. "Was it always bad?"

Snape shook his head, face terribly blank. "It began with tenderness and seduction, all the things a young man yearns for, especially one such as I."

Harry buried his face in Snape's chest, hugging him close. "I'm very lucky, then, to know that I can trust you. That when you finally f-fuck me for the first time, it won't be like that."

"You will have developed some measure of self-control by then, one hopes," said Snape unsteadily, "and will find the sensations familiar rather than shockingly new."

Harry shook his head against Snape's chest. "I'm s-saving that for you. I'll do anything you want me to with the twins, but not that."

Snape suddenly softened beneath him, the tension leaving his lanky frame as he melted into Harry's embrace. "I... I think I would very much like that," he said softly. "My greatest regret in handing you over to them was the loss of that moment."

"Good," said Harry, holding Snape tight. He spent a long time just snuggled into Snape's embrace, listening to his heartbeat, smelling the hair and body potions on them both, Snape's laundry soap and the scent of his skin as well, feeling secure and, although it might be just an illusion, loved.

He felt himself starting to drift off to sleep, and, although he wanted very much to simply allow it to happen, refused to abuse Snape's trust in even the smallest way from this moment forward. The overwhelming effort it must have taken Snape, not only to tell the story, but to allow Harry to lie in his arms as he spoke of what must have been years of sexual abuse, it wasn't something that Harry took lightly. Instead, he let himself ask the other question that had been on his mind since Snape spoke. "How're they going to help me be less slutty?"

Snapes arms tightened dangerously. "Do not ever use that word in my presence again," he said darkly. "You are extremely responsive and naturally submissive, both of which are valuable qualities in a lover. They are going to teach you to suppress the submissive instinct and keep your responses from overwhelming your good sense, so that you will only surrender yourself to these instincts when you desire it so."

Harry shivered at the thought of surrendering completely to Snape, handing the keys to his body and soul over to the control of that velvet voice, those dexterous hands, the lean form making use of him however Snape wanted. "Tease," he said softly, glad that his body was too worn out to produce an inappropriate erection.

Snape laughed, the sound rich and heady, and dropped a kiss on top of Harry's head. "Off with you, now," he said with a gentle nudge. "If you're cheerful enough to be impudent, then you're ready for sleep."

Harry sat up, then captured Snape's eyes. "Thank you for telling me," he said seriously. "You didn't have to, I would've trusted you no matter what, but I'm glad you did."

Harry stood up and got in his own bed before Snape managed to find a proper response. He was just beginning to drift off when he heard the quiet, "You're welcome, Harry," drift over from Snape's side of the room. The clink of a glass being set down was followed by a gentle whisper of, "Nox," and then darkness, filled with the comforting sound of Snape's breathing. Harry fell asleep warm and comfortable, feeling quite possibly the most secure and happy he'd felt in his short lifetime.

A Question of Etiquette VIII: A Temporary Arrangement