Chapter 4

An hour before dinner, Harry was pacing his chambers again. His nerves were twisting his stomach. Draco was, predictably, buried in the wardrobe again, tossing garments with the air of a man auditioning for a fashion tribunal.

"Here," Draco said, flinging a pair of dark blue trousers at him. "These will make your arse pop. You're welcome."

Harry caught them with a scowl. "I'm not trying to make anything pop, Malfoy. It's dinner, not a catwalk."

Draco smirked. "Dinner with Uncle Sev. You'll need every advantage you can get. Trust me. He will look."

Before Harry could retort, a knock sounded at the door. Upon Harry yelling "Enter," Astoria Greengrass strode into the room gracefully. She bowed to Harry, then turned her sharp gaze on Draco.

"Is my fiancé tormenting you again, Your Majesty?" she asked with a knowing smile.

Harry gave a helpless shrug. "Depends on your definition of torment."

Astoria sighed, then fixed Draco with a look that brooked no argument. "Draco, come. Mummy has come for a visit, and she wishes to speak to you about table centerpieces for our engagement party. Apparently, I cannot tell the difference between light taupe and ecru."

Draco's grumbling faded down the corridor as Astoria swept him away, leaving Harry blessedly alone. He looked down at the trousers in his hand, then at the ones he was currently wearing, and sighed. "That man," he muttered, shaking his head.

The dark blue pair Draco had tossed at him sat accusingly on the bed now. Harry eyed them, then glanced at the mirror. His current trousers were fine, kingly enough. But Draco's voice echoed in his head, 'They'll make your arse pop.'

Harry groaned. "Merlin, help me, I'm actually considering this."

He tugged off the trousers he was wearing and slipped into the dark blue pair. The fit was annoyingly perfect, hugging him in ways that made him feel both ridiculous and... well, maybe Draco had a point. He turned in the mirror, scowling at his own reflection. "I'm not trying to seduce Snape. It's dinner. Dinner."

Harry descended to the foyer nervously. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Severus already waiting by the floo. The man had cleaned up astonishingly well. Gone were the billowing classroom robes. Instead, he wore a tailored black suit that fit him like a second skin. Also, his now longer‑than‑shoulder‑length hair was tied back neatly into a ponytail. Harry had to stop and do a double take, his mouth opening slightly before he forced himself to move forward.

"Professor... Severus, may I call you that?" Harry asked quickly.

"I do not see why not."

"You look... different," Harry said.

Snape's lips twitched. "I should hope so."

Harry swallowed, then gestured toward the dining hall. He pulled out a chair for Severus once they reached the dining table. The moment the Potion Master sat, Zippy appeared, and with a snap of her fingers, the table transformed into a feast fit for royalty.

A roasted pheasant sat at the center. Surrounding it were platters of buttered asparagus, roasted carrots and parsnips, and a tureen of French onion soup. Fresh rolls steamed in a basket, and a decanter of deep red wine poured itself into goblets.

Harry sat opposite, trying not to stare too openly at Severus. "Zippy likes to... overdo things," he said.

"This all looks incredible."

Harry laid out his terms between bites of roasted pheasant, as the dinner unfolded.

"I need a fake husband," he explained, "Someone to get the nobles to settle down, someone to make the suitors back off. That's all you'd have to do. Play the dutiful spouse, glare the aristocrats into silence, make a few Ministers cry if you want to. In return, I'd give you anything you wanted."

Severus set down his goblet, "Anything? Careful, Potter. Promising anything is dangerous. Especially promising it to a Slytherin."

"I didn't mean... well, I did mean it, but not in a way that would... ruin me."

Severus leaned back and swirled his wine calmly. "You are offering me carte blanche. Do you understand what that means? A Slytherin will always test the limits of such a promise. You may find yourself granting requests you never imagined."

Severus set his goblet down. "Very well, Potter. If you insist on offering me anything, let us see how far your recklessness extends. First..." He held up a finger. "A new state-of-the-art laboratory."

Harry nodded immediately. "Done."

"Unlimited potion ingredients. Including Unicorn blood." Severus's lips twitched.

"Done."

"Cornelius Fudge fired."

Harry blinked, raising a brow. "Fudge? I already shoved him into the farthest corner of the Ministry. What did he do to piss you off?"

"He declined three of my potion patents. Because they benefited werewolves. Apparently, he thought that set a 'dangerous precedent.'"

"Done," Harry stated as his jaw tightened.

"If that's all, then..."

Severus leaned forward, "What if I say I want you?"

Harry's brain screeched to a halt. His fork clattered against the plate as he stared across the table. "Wait... what?"

"Even if I were to play your fake husband, we would undoubtedly require a real marriage contract. Any nitwit in your court can look up public records. I am not celibate, Your Majesty. Having an affair is abhorrent to me, and it would be a blow to your reputation if ever discovered. Your court may even call for my head."

Harry swallowed hard as Severus continued, "So, if we are to avoid treason charges or a royal assassination attempt, then during the course of our 'marriage,' I propose we satisfy each other. It is the logical solution."

Harry's face burned crimson, and his mind spiraled. 'Merlin help me... he's serious. But what if I can't...' His chest tightened at the thought of his dysfunction becoming known.

"You look rattled, Potter. Perhaps you did not think this through."

"I... I thought it through enough."

"Then I will ask again. What if I say I want you? What then, Your Majesty?"

Harry's chest tightened while his mind screamed at him to keep silent, to deflect, to laugh it off. "I can't," He blurted, the words were tumbling out before he could stop them. "I can't... I'm not sure I'll ever be ready. I'm broken, Severus. I can't... perform."

The confession hung in the air, while Harry's hands clenched against the table, and his eyes were fixed on his plate.

For a long moment, Severus said nothing. His expression was unreadable. Then, slowly, he set down his goblet. "Ah, so that is the flaw you fear will undo you."

Harry swallowed hard as he blushed in shame. "I didn't want you to know. I thought... if I kept it hidden, if I just made the deal, it wouldn't matter."

"It is best it came out now rather than on the wedding night. For the contract to be legal, the marriage must be consummated at least once. That is the law."

Harry's stomach dropped. "So it's impossible, then."

Severus tilted his head, "Impossible? Hardly. You assume consummation is defined by one narrow act. It is not. There are... alternatives. The law requires proof of union, not a demonstration of virility."

"And you're not... disgusted?" Harry quickly asked.

"Disgusted? No. I am a man of pragmatism, Potter. I have seen far worse flaws than yours paraded through the corridors of power. What you call brokenness, I call circumstance. It does not diminish your worth, nor your ability to rule."

"You are the man who poisoned the Dark Lord with his own snake's venom and stole his crown. You toppled an empire built on fear. And yet you sit here, convinced that one flaw makes you unworthy." Severus stated while folding his arms. "And if you can do that, Potter, I hardly think there is anyone who would willingly call you unworthy."

Harry's chest tightened, and a blush could be seen spreading to the tips of his ears.