Ouroboros

It was really his father's fault. The letter he'd received that morning had been even more critical than usual; critical of his grades, his activities, his performance on the Quidditch field. It was all "when I was your age" this, and "when I was your age" that, and the result was that Draco was in a very bad mood as he stomped into Charms class.

They were doing levitation, not levitating objects but levitating themselves. This was a difficult spell, requiring a great deal of concentration: it's impossible to use a wand to focus the magical energy when the object is your own body. It felt strange to Draco to be trying to do magic with his wand still in the pocket of his robe, as if he were trying to hold a fork without using his thumb.

"Now, everybody: Corporalus Leviosa!" chanted little Professor Flitwick, but Draco's mind was still on "when I was your age," and despite his increasingly frustrated chant of Corporalus Leviosa, his feet remained on the ground. It was the last straw when Gregory Goyle next to him managed to get half a meter into the air, stupid Goyle who was usually the last to get anything correct, and Draco glared at him so much that Goyle fell abruptly, knocking Draco's inkwell onto the floor.

"Oh, bloody hell!" This was not his day.

"Temper, temper," said Flitwick, with a smile that was no doubt meant to be soothing but just annoyed Draco even more.

"Temporalus Leviosa!" he spat out.

He could feel the crackle of power as he was lifted up into the air. Then the room started spinning, and the floor came up to meet him. This was really not his day.

Draco staggered to his feet in the empty classroom. Must have knocked my head on the floor and passed out, he thought; he still felt dizzy, a really bad hangover sort of dizzy. Where the hell was everybody? Who'd taken his books? And what were they thinking of, leaving him here on the floor instead of taking him to the infirmary? Somebody would pay for this.

Once out the door he started toward the infirmary, then changed his mind. He had no late-afternoon classes on Friday. He'd just go back to the dormitory and sleep it off. Slowly he wound his way down to the dungeon level and the Slytherin rooms.

"Knockatoone!" he commanded the entrance sharply. There was no reply.

"Come on, open up. Knockatoone!"

The wall remained obstinately closed. He put his head in his hands, muttering, "I can't believe this."

"I'll get it, Malfoy. Pangolin." The voice approaching behind him sounded vaguely familiar. He stepped through the entrance to the Slytherin common room and stopped short. Had it been redecorated?

The boy behind him followed. "You should really -- wait a minute." This last was quite sharp, and Draco turned around to look into the sallow, scowling face of a stranger.

"You're not Lucius."

He blinked. "No, I'm Draco."

"What are you doing here?" the boy demanded. He was skinny and dark-haired, and though taller than Draco he looked younger, maybe 15 or 16. Draco shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs.

"You're not Slytherin. What are you doing here?" repeated the boy, louder this time.

A lazy voice cut through Draco's confused thoughts. "What's the fuss, Snape?"

"Professor Snape?" Draco said, without thinking.

The dark-haired boy's eyes narrowed. "Don't mock me."

"Who is this?" Draco turned his head, and it was almost like looking in a mirror. The same aristocratic nose, the same white-blond hair. Two pairs of grey eyes met.

"From behind, I thought he was you, Lucius. I let him in."

"Well, he does look a bit like me, doesn't he." There was amusement in the boy's voice and in his eyes as he looked Draco over. "Quite a bit. So, old chap. Enlighten us."

Draco's mind was in a whirl. Snape, he thought, he does look like Snape. That's why I thought his voice was familiar. And Lucius…oh, gods. This is really, really not my day. Literally.

"Come, come. Who are you and what are you doing here?" Lucius's voice had taken on a delicately menacing tone.

"My name's Draco M--" He thought quickly. "Malenfant."

"And you are here because?"

"I'm a student at…at Durmstrang. We were practicing Apparating, and a friend bet me I couldn't get to Hogwarts, so naturally I had to take him up on it."

"You can't Apparate to Hogwarts." Snape was looking at him suspiciously.

"Oh, no, not inside, but I got to the gates, and there was nobody there, so I came in, and here I am." Draco knew he was babbling, but he had to say something, anything, as long as it wasn't the truth. The truth was just too bizarre to believe. He was having a hard time believing it himself, but the evidence was right there on the faces in front of him. Of course he looked like Lucius. That was his father, or would be in another seven or eight years. And that was Professor Snape, back when he was just a slimy young git.

Lucius's eyes widened appreciatively. "Durmstrang, eh? Say, you don't have to get back right away, do you? I want to hear about Durmstrang. Do they really teach the Dark Arts there?"

"Lucius, he's not supposed to be here."

"Put a lid on it, Severus. I'm bored and this will be entertaining."

Oh, great. Draco knew nearly nothing about Durmstrang; they kept things notoriously private there. Then again, that meant he could lie with impunity.

"We'd better go away from prying eyes." Lucius looked hard at Severus. "Coming?"

"I need to study."

"You will not tell anybody, of course." A significant look was exchanged.

Snape scowled. "Of course."

They left the common room and headed down the corridor. "I've had my own room since fourth year. Wealth has its privileges, you know. In fact," he continued, as they pushed through the door and entered the small but well-appointed room, "why don't you spend the night here? Tomorrow's Saturday."

"Your friend was right. I'm not supposed to be here." Not that he had any idea of where else to go.

"Oh, don't mind Snape, he's a bloody stickler for rules. Now, tell me about Durmstrang."

Draco spent the next few hours dredging the corners of his brain for every bit of information he knew about the other school, which wasn't much. To fill in the gaps he told stories about his Hogwarts experiences, suitably disguised. Fortunately, he'd had enough experience with the Dark Arts, thanks to Potter and his unerring talent for attracting all sorts of horrors, to bluff his way successfully through Lucius's questions. Lucius enjoyed talking too, and Draco learned many interesting and potentially useful stories about Potter's father and his old professor Lupin, who were two years behind Lucius, in the same class as Snape.

He was particularly keen on learning any dirt he could about Snape. But Lucius leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "Any special reason you're so interested in him?"

"He reminds me of someone I know," parried Draco. "Is he a good friend, then?"

"You might say that." Lucius smirked. "He's got a brilliant mouth and a sweet arse."

His father and Professor Snape? Maybe this was dirt he didn't really want to learn. At least the boy he was currently buggering was good-looking.

"My girlfriend's locked away at Beauxbatons. The nights get so lonely, don't you agree?"

"Definitely," said Draco, fervently thanking whatever it was that had made him choose Durmstrang rather than Beauxbatons as his supposed school.

"Listen, Draco. I've got to go down to dinner, and you'd better not come or there'll be all sorts of questions. Stay here, and I'll bring you up something after." It was clear Lucius did not intend to take no for an answer. But since Draco had no clear idea how he had gotten twenty-five years back in time, and even less how he would get back to his own time, he was more than happy to accede.

While Lucius was gone, he poked around the room. Gods, they used the same Arithmancy text, you'd think something would have changed since then. His father had been moderately interested in Quidditch, but from the looks of things more from a betting perspective than anything else. A few, hmm, illicit potions ingredients in the corner of a drawer. A few drawers locked with wards he didn't dare test. No pictures that he could see; he wondered if the girlfriend was his mother, or someone else.

He was leafing through Poisonous Plants of the Indies when Lucius returned with food -- and with Snape.

"I told Severus your story about your Professor who was taking Polyjuice. I think it inspired him."

"What, this isn't just pumpkin juice?"

Lucius laughed, and to Draco's great surprise, so did Snape. He didn't think that was possible.

"Polyjuice is fascinating stuff," said Severus. "Probably the most horrid tasting potion I've done."

"But it was worth it, wasn't it?" said Lucius.

"Who did you turn into?" asked Draco curiously as he bit into a sandwich. He couldn't think of anyone he would particularly want to turn into.

The two other boys looked at each other, then looked at him keenly. Draco was not sure he liked that look. It was about the sort of look, he imagined, that he gave his cauldron in Potions class, when he wasn't quite sure if it was going to do something interesting or blow up in his face.

Severus turned to Lucius. "It really is extraordinary. You could be brothers."

Oh, if you only knew the half of it, thought Draco.

"We should investigate this," said Lucius, solemnly. He turned to Draco. "Go on, take them off."

"Take what off?"

"Your clothes, man." Lucius had already started to strip.

Draco looked at Severus, who just stared back, then shrugged and started to remove his clothes. There wasn't really much alternative. Soon he was down to boxers; Lucius was completely nude, though, so he sighed and pulled them off as well.

"Perfect," said Lucius, waving in the direction of the mirror. "Look at us."

Draco had to admit that the two of them looked quite impressive. He was just a few centimeters taller, a little more muscular, but the resemblance was – well, not exactly remarkable, considering that there was a very good reason for it, but it was definitely noticeable. Trying not to be obvious about it, he checked to see whether his dimensions in other areas also slightly exceeded his father's, but snapped his head back up very quickly as he realized Lucius's state of arousal.

"Oh, it's all right, Draco," Lucius's lazy voice was close in his ear. "Look all you want. We're magnificent." He ran a finger lightly down Draco's spine and it was all Draco could do not to jump. "Don't you think so, Severus?"

"Magnificent." He sounded bitter.

"Silly boy. Come here."

Severus silently joined them, standing behind them at the mirror. His dark head swam above their pale shoulders as though it was floating.

"Did you think we would leave you out?" Lucius smiled and turned his head. Draco watched their reflections kiss. It was…disturbing. It was disturbing because it was his father and his professor, or rather they would be in the future, and it was somehow exciting in a strange sort of way, which was really disturbing. Maybe there was something in that pumpkin juice.

"You're still dressed, Severus. Whatever for?" Lucius spoke in low, dreamy syllables. The other boy stepped back to remove his robes, and he turned to Draco, caressed his jaw lightly. "Good thing we're not really brothers. Although I think my great-uncle married a cousin, I'm not sure I'd fancy incest."

Draco tried to think of something to say that would be not be construed as either extremely rude, or completely over-the-top raving mad, but didn't get very far because Lucius's lips were suddenly on his and all thought processes stopped abruptly. He heard a sharp exhalation behind him as Lucius's arms twined around his waist. He was being kissed, and it was hard to think about much else.

It was hard to think in general, and particularly hard to think of Lucius as his father, since even though he knew this intellectually to be the case he could not really picture his father as a randy seventeen-year-old boy with a very fine body and extremely insistent lips. The face he saw as he gazed through half-lidded eyes was so much like his own that it was almost like kissing himself. And suddenly he realized just who Snape had turned into from that Polyjuice.

He might have pulled away at that thought, which seemed even more kinky than incest, in a way, except that at that moment he felt the presence of cool skin against his back and warm lips on his neck. A hand wrapped around his chest; another, he could see, was stroking one of Lucius's arms. "Magnificent," he heard murmured in the voice that was almost but not quite the smooth growl that it would become, and it was really a very sexy voice as long as he didn't think too carefully about who it belonged to.

His body was certainly enjoying the attention. As a hand – he wasn't sure whose it was – dropped to stroke his erection, he decided that he might as well continue to enjoy it. Because if he abruptly changed his mind, the others might decide to change his body. Like into a toad, for example. And having a little fun with one undeniably attractive person and a person whose velvety voice was clearly the product of a velvety mouth was vastly preferable to hopping around on a lily pad in the lake.

Arms disentangled from around him, and Draco found himself feeling distinctly left out as Severus moved away from behind him to draw a hand down Lucius's chest. Together they sank down to the floor in front of the mirror, limbs tangling together.

Lucius looked up at him, a guileless smile in his grey eyes. "Won't you join us?"

Hesitantly, Draco lowered himself to the thick rug. It was a rich dark grey, soft and luxurious, and the pale intertwined bodies looked like liquid silver against its surface. Severus whispered something to Lucius, eliciting a nod, then slid close and pressed his lips to Draco's.

I'm kissing Snape, thought Draco. Oh gods, I'm kissing Snape. Whose velvet mouth was just as nice on his lips as it was on his neck. Then it did very pleasant things to his left nipple. And the soft spot of tender skin just above his hip. And then it engulfed his erection, and he didn't care any more just whose mouth it was. It was hot, and it was wet, and it was sending him to paradise.

He felt a change in the rhythm at his groin and opened his eyes to see Lucius wrapping himself around Severus from behind. Lucius was turned to face the mirror, his eyes fixed on the image, and when he became aware that Draco was watching him, he whispered, "Look. The mirror. Look at us." Draco looked. He saw a blond boy plunging into a dark boy sucking a blond boy who was him, and the reflection of Lucius staring back; he felt the warm suction of the mouth, the tongue licking at his cock. Lucius's head was thrown back slightly, his mouth open and panting, but even as he moaned and climaxed, clutching Severus hard at the waist, he did not break eye contact. The sensation of being sucked by one and stared at by the other sent a cool shiver down his spine, from his eyes to his cock, and suddenly he was coming too, pumping into that warm, beautiful mouth.

Draco leaned back on the soft rug, panting slightly. He still felt just the slightest bit dizzy, but whether it was due to the time travel or the orgasm, he wasn't quite sure. Or maybe it was whatever Snape had put in the pumpkin juice. Whatever it was, it was making it hard to concentrate, and he knew he ought to concentrate, because he needed to work out how to get back to his own time. Maybe another spell – then again, he wasn't quite sure what spell had brought him here in the first place.

His thoughts were interrupted by soft moans. Lucius and Severus were kissing each other deeply, and Lucius's hand was on the other boy's erection, sliding his fingers along the shaft. He had to admit it looked very sexy. Lucius caught his eye as he broke the kiss, smiled slightly. "You taste so good on his lips, Draco. Come taste."

Draco slid over. Lucius reached a hand to his jaw, kissed him briefly, then moved his mouth down Severus's body.

"Kiss me, then," said Severus, hoarsely. His long lashes half-hid his dark eyes as he tilted his head up to meet Draco. Lips met and parted, tongues explored. Pressed against his lean body, Draco could feel every shiver, every shudder. He could taste the faint echo of his semen as the other boy jerked and moaned his ecstasy into his mouth.

They lay in a pile for several long minutes, on the rug, not speaking, not moving. Finally Lucius stirred. "Gentlemen, I propose we adjourn to the showers."

Draco looked around, found his clothes and started to sort them out. "Don't bother," said Lucius. "Just put on your robe. Nobody's about the halls at this time of night."

Once their robes were on, they slipped out into the corridor. "The prefect's bathroom is the best," confided Lucius. Draco remembered, just in time, that he was not supposed to know anything about Hogwarts, and was careful to look appropriately awed when they entered the room with the huge marble swimming-pool-like tub and its amazing array of faucets. Lucius chose what looked like a random selection of taps to open, and soon the tub was full with steaming, scented water.

It felt wonderful to slide into the warmth, relaxing and comforting. Draco could feel every muscle give up its tension as the heat seeped into his skin. He sat on the submerged ledge that ran along one side of the pool, propped his head on a towel and leaned back, closing his eyes.

"Draco." Lucius drawled his name as though caressing it.

"Hmm?"

"I just like the sound. Is it a family name?"

"I was named for an old friend of my father's," he said automatically. Then the realization hit him, what he had said, what he had meant, and he laughed so hard he could hardly breathe. "Tell you what. You like it," he gasped, "you can name your son Draco. After me." He collapsed into laughter again, lightheaded, unable to stop. This was causality. This was meant to happen.

"What's so amusing?"

Draco looked over at him. Lucius was sprawled regally on the pool's edge, his feet dangling in the water. His blonde hair, wet now, was slicked back away from his forehead, and his fine skin glowed like porcelain. "I was thinking that if you do, you'd better invent a good story for when your son asks you who he's named for. It won't do to tell him it was a random stranger you shagged silly one night." Saying it provoked a fresh set of giggles. It was all just so damn funny, the way things worked out.

Lucius slipped back into the water, swam over to him. "But you're not a random stranger," he said, propping his arms on the underwater shelf next to Draco. "You are me, and I am you. This was meant to happen."

Hearing Lucius echo out loud the words he'd just been thinking brought an abrupt end to his giggles. Fate worked in strange ways. Although it wasn't quite clear what the purpose of this whole odd trip was, other than to give him his name in a sort of circular way. He had a sudden image of a Slytherin snake biting its tail.

"And besides," continued Lucius, "I haven't shagged you silly. Yet." With one smooth motion he hoisted himself up to the submerged marble ledge, leaned across Draco's body to lick at his neck. "But it sounds like a smashing good idea."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, or at least he was planning to protest, but Lucius's mouth bore down hard against it and there was nothing for it but to moan and dart his tongue against those hard white teeth, run a hand down Lucius's back which was still dripping with the scented water. The weight of him pushed Draco down into the water, against the smooth marble. His breaths matched the rise and fall of the chest pressing against his own. Hands explored his shoulders, his sides, his hips. He could feel the beginning of another erection.

Lucius moved from his lips to his eyebrows, kissing and sucking each one, dropping tiny kisses at the corner of his eye before moving to the side of his face, just in front of Draco's ear. "You are me," he whispered. "I am you." He licked a trail back to Draco's mouth, took it again with heat and force.

Legs dropping to either side he rose up on his knees, straddling Draco's waist. He trailed a lazy hand down through the water, drawing patterns across Draco's chest; with his other hand he encircled Draco's cock and caressed it to full hardness.

The hand left his cock and traced back across his scrotum, between his legs, and an exploratory finger pushed into him. Draco tensed. "I don't do that."

Lucius smiled, moved his hands back to Draco's chest. "You should. It's delightful. I'd do it for you."

"Well, then?" It came out as a challenge, and Lucius accepted it as such, moving his other knee across Draco's reclining body so that he was kneeling on the ledge beside him, legs slightly parted, hands on the tiled rim of the pool. He smirked over his shoulder. "The ninth tap on the right dispenses an excellent lubricant."

Draco swam over to retrieve a handful. As he tipped the smooth lotion into his palm, he looked up to see Severus, naked and aroused, watching with his disconcertingly dark eyes. Deliberately, slowly, the other boy dipped two fingers into the pool of lotion in Draco's hand, caressing his palm lightly with a fingertip, then moved to the wall and leaned against it. His eyes never left Draco's.

Lucius groaned as Draco slid a slick hand down the cleft between his cheeks, extended a finger. "More." Two fingers. Draco felt the need tremble down into his own body, from his fingers to his cock, straining with the desire to bury itself inside the other. "More." He swiveled his hand, slithered his fingers, caressed Lucius from inside. A hoarse whisper: "More."

He prepared himself with what was left of the lotion, slowly slid the head in, feeling the pulsing resistance gradually give way as he pushed deeper. "Oh, yes. All the way," breathed Lucius. Draco reached for Lucius's cock with one hand, gripped the cool marble edge with the other. Hips and hand found their rhythm.

The warmth surrounding his cock echoed the warmth of the water lapping at his thighs, and it pulled him in. He was drowning, drowning in Lucius, this man who would be his father one day but now was only a body that he clung to even as it pulled him under. He gasped oxygen into his lungs and felt it flowing away through his body. It was as if his cock was a conduit that took his air and returned electricity, but it couldn't be giving the air to Lucius because he was gasping too. Their moans, fighting for harmony, echoed from the marble tiles.

Draco looked over to Severus, who was silently watching the two of them. One hand was braced against the wall, the other worked his erection; his expression was intense and unreadable. When he saw Draco glance at him he ran his tongue slowly across his upper lip.

Lucius cried out under him and came hard into his hand. An answering moan came from the boy leaning on the wall. Draco rinsed his hand in the water by his knees, then reached for Lucius's hips and pulled them back against him, hard and fast, back and forth, air into electricity, body into body until the sensations overwhelmed him. A wordless cry and he was spent, gasping like a man rescued from the sea.

They lay in a heap until Severus came over, lightly kissed first Lucius, then Draco, then slid into the pool. The water was still warm as they washed a second time. Severus was the first to lever his long body out and towel off; he'd already wrapped his robe around himself by the time Draco and Lucius reluctantly left the pool.

"Hurry up. I want to get some sleep tonight."

"If you're in a rush you can go now," answered Lucius, still toweling his hair.

"I see." The bitter note was back in Severus's voice. It made him sound more like the Professor Snape Draco knew. "You want to be left alone with your new toy?"

"For God's sake, Severus."

"Fine." He opened the door abruptly and stepped out.

Lucius raised an amused eyebrow at Draco. "He's so intense. I think he loves me. It's really a pity --"

A hoarse shout split the air, coming through the not-quite-closed door. Lucius was on his feet in an instant, grabbing his robe in one hand and pulling his wand from a pocket with the other. Draco did the same, and they both stepped into the corridor.

Severus stood a short distance away, facing a group of boys at the end of the hallway, and from the way he was shaking it looked as though he might have been hexed with Tarantallegra. "It's those bloody Gryffindors," muttered Lucius. "Come on!"

Dueling naked in the hallways of Hogwarts had never been high on Draco's to-do list. But Severus and Lucius were Slytherins, after all, and he supposed he did feel a bit obliged to back them up, now that they were all…friends. Dropping the robe to the ground, since he didn't have time to slip it on, he followed Lucius up the corridor.

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed one of the Gryffindors. "It's a naked Lucius!"

"Two of them!" said another.

"It's a new spell, Potter," said Lucius, grinning and extending his wand. "Rictusempra!"

Potter? Maybe this was going to be worthwhile after all. Draco joined the fray. He dodged a Jelly-legs, got hit by something that made his ears twitch, then cast a very satisfactory Furnunculus on the boy who must have been Potter's father. Soon, hexes were flying everywhere.

Suddenly, the Gryffindors lowered their wands. They were looking at something behind the three Slytherins, uncomfortable expressions on all their faces. Severus hesitated and looked at Lucius, who said, "Oldest trick in the book," and prepared to cast another spell.

"Just what is going on here?" The three Slytherins whirled. Striding down the corridor toward them was Professor McGonagall. She looked exactly the same as she did in Draco's time, he thought. Although perhaps a little angrier than usual.

She pulled out her wand. "Finite Incantantem!"

Draco felt an odd sort of tug somewhere deep in his chest. Then the room started spinning, and everything went black.

He woke up with aching muscles and an aching head in the dim light of the empty corridor. An attempt to sit up only brought a fresh wave of dizziness, so he remained horizontal, his hand unconsciously clutching his wand, the cool stones on his skin reminding him that he was completely unclothed. He had been dreaming. No, he was naked on the floor of the hallway near the prefects' bathroom. It hadn't been a dream. He wondered if he had returned to his own time.

The sound of approaching footsteps spurred him to sit up despite the way his vision blurred as he moved. A familiar black-cloaked figure swept toward him; relief poured through him as he realized that he had made it back after all. The only thing he had to worry about now was the small matter of being naked on the floor, in the middle of the night, in front of Professor Snape.

Who, a few moments later, was standing above him, glaring. Then a strange expression crossed Snape's face; he frowned and shook his head slightly, before carefully rearranging his features into the usual sneer. "I trust there is an explanation for this."

Draco got shakily to his feet, hoping he could invent a very good one indeed. And hoping, fervently, that Professor Snape did not have a long memory.

story notes

HP stories | home  | send feedback  | post a comment on livejournal | read comments

http://hieroglyfics.net/hp/ouroboros.htm | written January 2003 by Isis