Wooing Harry Potter - PG-13 (HP/SS, HP/DM)
Title:Wooing Harry Potter
Author: mahaliem
Pairings: HP/SS and HP/DM
Rating PG-13
Warnings: If you're looking for an angsty, plotty story that plumbs the emotional depths of the various characters as they fall irrevocably in love, then keep looking because this isn't it. Pancakes have more depth than the characters in this story.
Summary: Harry is wooed by both Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy.
Notes: Thank you so very much to gauriel for the tremendous job she did beta reading this for me. Thank you to justabi for her encouragement and support. All remaining errors are mine and mine alone.
Wooing Harry Potter
Once upon a time, Harry Potter was faced with a terrible choice.
"No bloody way!" Harry shouted.
Minister of Magic Scrimgeour only smiled at him in response. "I think the Ministry's position is quite generous. You did commit a premeditated murder."
Harry's mouth hung open for a moment. "I killed Voldemort!"
"And you've confessed to that fact freely, which we've taken into account in our considerations. Voldemort, for all that he was a Dark Lord, was still human."
"Fine!" Harry snapped, as he waved his arms about. "Throw me in Azkaban. Hell, have a Dementor kiss me. But I am not marrying a Death Eater."
Scrimgeour looked down his nose at Harry in a way that reminded him of a disapproving McGonagall. "The Wizarding World is small. If we ostracize a good percentage of our populace, we'll never survive. Therefore, we need a highly visible example of putting aside our differences. The marriage of The Boy Who Killed Voldemort to a former Death Eater would be perfect."
If there was one thing Harry truly loved it was the Wizarding World. He'd fought bravely for it. He'd almost died for it. If he had to marry to save it, he'd do that too.
All his righteous indignation seeped out of him and Harry slumped down into a nearby chair. "I suppose you have my chosen bride picked out for me already."
"Of course not. The Ministry would never do such a thing." Scrimgeour tapped a parchment on his desk. "We have, however, taken the liberty of narrowing down your choices. The Death Eater has to be someone that was, shall we say, a bit more ambiguous in their actions. Not seen by the public as being purely evil. Also, it was decided that it would be wise if your spouse wasn't set on killing you."
"You actually found Death Eaters that don't hate me?"
Scrimgeour shook his head. "I didn't say that. They hate you, they just don't want you dead."
Harry wondered if the situation could get any worse. "May I see the list?" he asked politely.
Scrimgeour handed him the parchment.
There were only two names on it. Harry stared at them for a moment before leaping to his feet.
"No bloody way!"
* * *
"The Minister has ordered you to marry a Death Eater?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded glumly as he sat across from Hermione and Ron at the kitchen table at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.
"Makes sense politically," Ron said. When the other two turned to look at him, he went on. "Scrimgeour knows you could be a rival for his office. Maybe not right now, but in a few years. This way he ties you to a Death Eater and if you ever oppose him he'll talk about how you have a Death Eater influencing you."
Hermione thought for a moment. "That's true, but I wonder if a marriage to a Death Eater could also be advantageous to Harry. Currently there's quite a bit of animosity towards them."
"They were evil," Harry interjected.
"I didn't say the animosity wasn't deserved. Unfortunately, there are families where one member was on Voldemort's side but Wizarding society is acting as if they all were. Mandy Brocklehurst's uncle was a Death Eater, yet from the way people are treating them you'd think the entire clan had been wandering around in masks. Harry's marriage would help to eliminate these prejudices. Many would see Harry as their champion."
"I don't want to be anyone's champion," Harry muttered. "And I certainly don't want to get married. Especially not to either of the people the Ministry chose."
Hermione leaned forward. "Who are the two choices?"
Harry mumbled something.
"Who?" asked Ron.
Harry took a deep breath. "Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape."
"What!" Ron yelled.
Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.
"I'm doomed," Harry said morosely.
"The greasy git and that prat?" Ron said with disbelief.
"I take back everything I said about being a champion," Hermione assured Harry. "You can't do it."
"I have to."
Ron was still shaking his head. "Snarky Snape and the Ferret?"
"I'm sure we'll find a way to change the Ministry's mind."
"I don't know how."
"Evil Lout and Evil Lite?" Ron's voice got fainter.
Hermione patted Harry's arm. "I'm certain neither Malfoy nor Professor Snape will agree to the arrangement."
"That's where you're wrong. Whoever I don't choose stays in Azkaban for life along with the other surviving Death Eaters."
Ron was by now reduced to gibbering.
"However will you decide?" Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. The Ministry has set up a series of private meetings for me to get to know them better. Like I even want to know them better. I know them all too well already."
When Ron didn't make a sound both Hermione and Harry turned to look at him. From his blank stare and slack jaw, it was obvious that shock had set in.
Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Hermione rose to her feet and grabbed Ron by the arm. "I'd better take him home," she told Harry. "Do let us know what's going on. In the meantime, I plan to research the subject and see if the Ministry is within their rights to force you to marry against your will."
With a pop, Hermione apparated away with Ron, leaving Harry alone.
The next time a Dark Lord decided to take over the Wizarding World, Harry vowed to let him.
* * *
Harry swallowed hard as Severus Snape was shown into the room the Ministry had provided for their meetings.
The room was plain, but clean. The furnishings consisted of a table with two chairs and a couch along the wall. Harry had eyed the couch uneasily, then sat on one of the chairs and waited for Snape's arrival.
Snape was handcuffed and hobbled by a heavy chain with iron brackets fixed around his ankles. Tonks, who'd escorted him in, waved her wand and the brackets and cuffs opened and tumbled to the ground. She then extracted a small bell from her pocket and rang it. Several covered platters of food appeared on the table along with two place settings. Giving Harry a wink, she left, locking the door behind her.
Snape stood ramrod straight, rubbing his wrists where the handcuffs had left a mark.
"Professor Snape," Harry said, a quiver in his voice betraying his nervousness. "Would you care to join me for dinner?"
"I have no desire to join you anywhere," Snape said, haughtily. "The Ministry has given me little choice in the matter."
"Well, this wasn't exactly my idea either." Harry motioned at the food. "If we don't eat it, it will just go to waste."
Snape approached with as much reluctance as if the table were a torture device and slowly sat down.
"Let's see what the Ministry thinks is a suitable meal," Harry stated and began lifting off the covers.
One platter held roast chicken. Another held a mixture of vegetables that had been cooked much too long. There were also rolls.
"Doesn't look like anything special," Harry said. He lifted his gaze to Snape and immediately regretted his words.
Snape was gazing at the food as if it held the secrets of the universe. His whole body leaned toward it, seemingly drawn there by the steam wafting from the platters.
It occurred to Harry that the meals in Azkaban were probably sparse. He'd been hungry enough times as a child and during the summers to know how it felt. Snape was most likely using quite a bit of self-control not to reach out and grab the food.
"Let me serve you," Harry said, taking charge. Spooning out the chicken and vegetables, he made sure that Snape received extremely generous portions. He was a bit surprised by the quiet "Thank you" he heard.
The next half hour was spent eating. When Harry finished the small amount he'd served himself, he claimed to be full, allowing the majority to go to Snape. When the platters were empty, Snape eyed them carefully to make such no stray bits lingered at the bottom.
"Professor," Harry said, "I suppose we should discuss why we're here."
"I've been told I have to marry you. The Ministry has threatened to have me rot in Azkaban if I don't. After observing the failure of your relationships with Miss Chang and Miss Weasley, it doesn't surprise me that you would need to use such methods to obtain a spouse."
"It wasn't my choice, either," Harry said hotly. "In fact my threat was similar - marriage or Azkaban. The only difference is I get to decide who to marry."
Snape arched an eyebrow.
"I could also marry Draco Malfoy," Harry answered the unspoken question.
A frown appeared on Snape's face. "Are you informing me that I am actually in competition for your hand in marriage with Mister Malfoy? That one of us will spend our life in Azkaban and the other with you?"
"Yes."
"Amazing. The Ministry has finally come across a way to make incarceration in Azkaban appealing."
"Fine. If that's how you feel about it, why don't you knock on the door and have Tonks take you back."
"I shall!" Snape stood and took two steps towards the door when a pie appeared on the table.
He halted and gazed intently at the pie, then at Harry.
"I suppose there are compensations for choosing you over Azkaban."
Harry looked at Snape crossly. "Yeah, but why should I choose you over Malfoy?"
Snape considered the matter for a moment, before speaking. "With me, you will learn the location and extreme sensitivity of each erogenous body part that you possess. You will feel the torment of being slowly and subtly aroused until every nerve ending feels as if it's hot, aching, yearning; sending messages of want and need coursing through your veins until you cease to think, becoming nothing but desire made flesh. I will teach you to moan from a look, harden from my scent, even come from my voice alone."
"Fuck," Harry muttered.
"That too."
* * *
When Harry returned to Grimmauld Place, he was still partially aroused. Snape had eaten his pie, making obscene noise while flicking his tongue around his fork in a way that had kept Harry's eyes glued to it in fascination.
Hermione and Ron were waiting for him in the parlour as he apparated in.
"Well?" Ron asked impatiently. "How did it go?"
"It was um... interesting," Harry replied, collapsing on the couch and grabbing one of the throw pillows to place across his lap.
"Did you two talk about the possibility of getting married?" Hermione questioned.
Harry nodded. "Yes. He even pointed out the advantages of marrying him."
"Really? What did he tell you?"
Harry blushed. "Let's just say that I don't think Malfoy can top his offer."
* * *
Harry's meeting with Draco was very similar to his meeting with Snape, except while Draco also ate as if not having had decent food in weeks, which he hadn't, he complained about each bite being below his standards.
It was only after they'd finished dessert, which Draco had declared was undercooked, that they came to the heart of why they were there.
"I won't lie to you, Potter. The only reason I'm willing to do this is because I've found that I actually hate Azkaban more than the idea of marrying you."
"I'm flattered," Harry said sarcastically.
"It was a close call," Draco acknowledged.
Draco took a sip of coffee, then carefully set the cup aside. "I won't say I love you. I'd choke on the words and you wouldn't believe it, anyway. I also won't make promises that you won't believe I'd keep."
"Then how do you expect to convince me to choose you over Snape?"
Draco stood. With quick movements, he doffed his clothes. All of his clothes.
Harry's eyes widened. Draco's smooth, pale form came closer and the breath caught in Harry's throat. When Draco perched a hip onto the edge of the table next to him, Harry thought his heart would beat out of his chest.
Draco smirked down at him. "Convinced yet?"
* * *
Hermione and Ron stared at Harry as he returned to Grimmauld Place, waiting for the verdict.
"Draco's argument was extremely compelling," Harry choked out.
* * *
Snape frowned at Harry as he finished the last bite of dessert during their next meeting. "Why are we still doing this?" he snapped. "Tell the Ministry of your decision and we'll be done with it."
"I-I haven't made up my mind yet."
Snape's eyes narrowed as he considered this information. "What did Mister Malfoy do?"
"He...." Harry took a deep breath. "He stripped."
For a long time Snape stared at Harry.
"Very well," Snape said at last. "You have heard the old witches' tale about men with large noses, correct?"
"What?"
Snape glared at this show of stupidity. "That men with large noses are equally large elsewhere."
Harry shook his head, completely confused. "I don't understand. Why are you telling me this?"
Snape rose, unbuttoned his robes and then undid the placket of his trousers.
When Harry saw what Snape had hidden there, his mouth dropped open.
* * *
Draco and Harry had finished eating and moved to the couch.
"About the whole marriage thing. I wanted to let you know that I'm considering choosing Snape."
"Why?" Draco asked, then took one look at Harry's blushing face and scowled. "Snape showed you his cock, didn't he?"
"H-how did you know?" Harry stammered.
"The size of that man's cock is legendary."
"Then you understand why I'm-"
"Wait!" Draco interrupted. "Don't be too hasty. There are things you don't know about me."
"Like what?"
Draco moved closer to Harry on the couch so that their sides were pressed together.
"Although I have quite a bit of experience, it hasn't changed me," Draco purred.
"That's... that's nice?" Harry ventured.
"It's very nice, according to some," Draco whispered in Harry's ear. "Not often does one find in a single person both the experience of a whore and the tightness of a virgin."
Harry gulped.
* * *
Snape was not happy with Harry's lack of decision..
"I have no gag reflex," Snape announced during dinner.
Harry discovered, as he almost choked on his food, that his own gag reflex was working quite well.
* * *
"I'm exceptionally bendy," Draco stated.
Harry became quite stiff at hearing that pronouncement.
* * *
"I want them both," Harry wailed to Ron and Hermione.
Ron fainted.
* * *
"Have you made your decision?" Scrimgeour asked. He shuffled the parchments on his desk in an attempt not to appear too eager for the answer.
"My friend Ron has a theory that the reason you want me to marry a Death Eater is politically motivated," Harry said calmly. "That you want to diminish my chances as a future candidate for Minister of Magic."
Scrimgeour stilled for a few seconds, then plastered a bright smile on his face. "That's nonsense."
"My other friend, Hermione, agrees with Ron. However, she doesn't think your plan will work."
Scrimgeour's smile tightened into a flat line. "And, supposing that your friends are right about my motivations, why won't it work?"
"Because she doesn't think that my marrying a Death Eater will be enough to discredit me - that I might actually gain support."
"I-I'm sure she's mistaken."
"I don't know. Hermione's awfully smart. Brightest witch in her generation, and all that rot." Harry sighed before continuing. "It's quite possible that unless I do something completely against the mores and traditions of Wizarding society, then I'm doomed to become Minister."
Scrimgeour perked up. "Against the mores and traditions of Wizarding society, you say?"
"Yes. It'd have to be truly terrible for the public to turn against me. Something worse than marrying a Death Eater. Marrying two Death Eaters at the same time, though - that might do it." Harry looked at Scrimgeour. "It's a good thing that's unlikely to happen."
Scrimgeour smiled. "Did I mention that the Ministry has also decided to punish you for the wanton destruction of several treasured artifacts once owned by the founders of Hogwarts?"
* * *
Unfortunately for Scrimgeour, while many in Wizarding society were appalled at Harry marrying both Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape, a larger number were truly impressed by this display of bravery. Another portion of the population was awed by what it said for his stamina. Others were just plain kinky and saw Harry as their champion.
In less than ten years time, Harry Potter became the youngest Minister of Magic on record.
And he lived extremely happily ever after.
The End
Author: mahaliem
Pairings: HP/SS and HP/DM
Rating PG-13
Warnings: If you're looking for an angsty, plotty story that plumbs the emotional depths of the various characters as they fall irrevocably in love, then keep looking because this isn't it. Pancakes have more depth than the characters in this story.
Summary: Harry is wooed by both Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy.
Notes: Thank you so very much to gauriel for the tremendous job she did beta reading this for me. Thank you to justabi for her encouragement and support. All remaining errors are mine and mine alone.
Wooing Harry Potter
Once upon a time, Harry Potter was faced with a terrible choice.
"No bloody way!" Harry shouted.
Minister of Magic Scrimgeour only smiled at him in response. "I think the Ministry's position is quite generous. You did commit a premeditated murder."
Harry's mouth hung open for a moment. "I killed Voldemort!"
"And you've confessed to that fact freely, which we've taken into account in our considerations. Voldemort, for all that he was a Dark Lord, was still human."
"Fine!" Harry snapped, as he waved his arms about. "Throw me in Azkaban. Hell, have a Dementor kiss me. But I am not marrying a Death Eater."
Scrimgeour looked down his nose at Harry in a way that reminded him of a disapproving McGonagall. "The Wizarding World is small. If we ostracize a good percentage of our populace, we'll never survive. Therefore, we need a highly visible example of putting aside our differences. The marriage of The Boy Who Killed Voldemort to a former Death Eater would be perfect."
If there was one thing Harry truly loved it was the Wizarding World. He'd fought bravely for it. He'd almost died for it. If he had to marry to save it, he'd do that too.
All his righteous indignation seeped out of him and Harry slumped down into a nearby chair. "I suppose you have my chosen bride picked out for me already."
"Of course not. The Ministry would never do such a thing." Scrimgeour tapped a parchment on his desk. "We have, however, taken the liberty of narrowing down your choices. The Death Eater has to be someone that was, shall we say, a bit more ambiguous in their actions. Not seen by the public as being purely evil. Also, it was decided that it would be wise if your spouse wasn't set on killing you."
"You actually found Death Eaters that don't hate me?"
Scrimgeour shook his head. "I didn't say that. They hate you, they just don't want you dead."
Harry wondered if the situation could get any worse. "May I see the list?" he asked politely.
Scrimgeour handed him the parchment.
There were only two names on it. Harry stared at them for a moment before leaping to his feet.
"No bloody way!"
* * *
"The Minister has ordered you to marry a Death Eater?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded glumly as he sat across from Hermione and Ron at the kitchen table at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.
"Makes sense politically," Ron said. When the other two turned to look at him, he went on. "Scrimgeour knows you could be a rival for his office. Maybe not right now, but in a few years. This way he ties you to a Death Eater and if you ever oppose him he'll talk about how you have a Death Eater influencing you."
Hermione thought for a moment. "That's true, but I wonder if a marriage to a Death Eater could also be advantageous to Harry. Currently there's quite a bit of animosity towards them."
"They were evil," Harry interjected.
"I didn't say the animosity wasn't deserved. Unfortunately, there are families where one member was on Voldemort's side but Wizarding society is acting as if they all were. Mandy Brocklehurst's uncle was a Death Eater, yet from the way people are treating them you'd think the entire clan had been wandering around in masks. Harry's marriage would help to eliminate these prejudices. Many would see Harry as their champion."
"I don't want to be anyone's champion," Harry muttered. "And I certainly don't want to get married. Especially not to either of the people the Ministry chose."
Hermione leaned forward. "Who are the two choices?"
Harry mumbled something.
"Who?" asked Ron.
Harry took a deep breath. "Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape."
"What!" Ron yelled.
Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.
"I'm doomed," Harry said morosely.
"The greasy git and that prat?" Ron said with disbelief.
"I take back everything I said about being a champion," Hermione assured Harry. "You can't do it."
"I have to."
Ron was still shaking his head. "Snarky Snape and the Ferret?"
"I'm sure we'll find a way to change the Ministry's mind."
"I don't know how."
"Evil Lout and Evil Lite?" Ron's voice got fainter.
Hermione patted Harry's arm. "I'm certain neither Malfoy nor Professor Snape will agree to the arrangement."
"That's where you're wrong. Whoever I don't choose stays in Azkaban for life along with the other surviving Death Eaters."
Ron was by now reduced to gibbering.
"However will you decide?" Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. The Ministry has set up a series of private meetings for me to get to know them better. Like I even want to know them better. I know them all too well already."
When Ron didn't make a sound both Hermione and Harry turned to look at him. From his blank stare and slack jaw, it was obvious that shock had set in.
Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Hermione rose to her feet and grabbed Ron by the arm. "I'd better take him home," she told Harry. "Do let us know what's going on. In the meantime, I plan to research the subject and see if the Ministry is within their rights to force you to marry against your will."
With a pop, Hermione apparated away with Ron, leaving Harry alone.
The next time a Dark Lord decided to take over the Wizarding World, Harry vowed to let him.
* * *
Harry swallowed hard as Severus Snape was shown into the room the Ministry had provided for their meetings.
The room was plain, but clean. The furnishings consisted of a table with two chairs and a couch along the wall. Harry had eyed the couch uneasily, then sat on one of the chairs and waited for Snape's arrival.
Snape was handcuffed and hobbled by a heavy chain with iron brackets fixed around his ankles. Tonks, who'd escorted him in, waved her wand and the brackets and cuffs opened and tumbled to the ground. She then extracted a small bell from her pocket and rang it. Several covered platters of food appeared on the table along with two place settings. Giving Harry a wink, she left, locking the door behind her.
Snape stood ramrod straight, rubbing his wrists where the handcuffs had left a mark.
"Professor Snape," Harry said, a quiver in his voice betraying his nervousness. "Would you care to join me for dinner?"
"I have no desire to join you anywhere," Snape said, haughtily. "The Ministry has given me little choice in the matter."
"Well, this wasn't exactly my idea either." Harry motioned at the food. "If we don't eat it, it will just go to waste."
Snape approached with as much reluctance as if the table were a torture device and slowly sat down.
"Let's see what the Ministry thinks is a suitable meal," Harry stated and began lifting off the covers.
One platter held roast chicken. Another held a mixture of vegetables that had been cooked much too long. There were also rolls.
"Doesn't look like anything special," Harry said. He lifted his gaze to Snape and immediately regretted his words.
Snape was gazing at the food as if it held the secrets of the universe. His whole body leaned toward it, seemingly drawn there by the steam wafting from the platters.
It occurred to Harry that the meals in Azkaban were probably sparse. He'd been hungry enough times as a child and during the summers to know how it felt. Snape was most likely using quite a bit of self-control not to reach out and grab the food.
"Let me serve you," Harry said, taking charge. Spooning out the chicken and vegetables, he made sure that Snape received extremely generous portions. He was a bit surprised by the quiet "Thank you" he heard.
The next half hour was spent eating. When Harry finished the small amount he'd served himself, he claimed to be full, allowing the majority to go to Snape. When the platters were empty, Snape eyed them carefully to make such no stray bits lingered at the bottom.
"Professor," Harry said, "I suppose we should discuss why we're here."
"I've been told I have to marry you. The Ministry has threatened to have me rot in Azkaban if I don't. After observing the failure of your relationships with Miss Chang and Miss Weasley, it doesn't surprise me that you would need to use such methods to obtain a spouse."
"It wasn't my choice, either," Harry said hotly. "In fact my threat was similar - marriage or Azkaban. The only difference is I get to decide who to marry."
Snape arched an eyebrow.
"I could also marry Draco Malfoy," Harry answered the unspoken question.
A frown appeared on Snape's face. "Are you informing me that I am actually in competition for your hand in marriage with Mister Malfoy? That one of us will spend our life in Azkaban and the other with you?"
"Yes."
"Amazing. The Ministry has finally come across a way to make incarceration in Azkaban appealing."
"Fine. If that's how you feel about it, why don't you knock on the door and have Tonks take you back."
"I shall!" Snape stood and took two steps towards the door when a pie appeared on the table.
He halted and gazed intently at the pie, then at Harry.
"I suppose there are compensations for choosing you over Azkaban."
Harry looked at Snape crossly. "Yeah, but why should I choose you over Malfoy?"
Snape considered the matter for a moment, before speaking. "With me, you will learn the location and extreme sensitivity of each erogenous body part that you possess. You will feel the torment of being slowly and subtly aroused until every nerve ending feels as if it's hot, aching, yearning; sending messages of want and need coursing through your veins until you cease to think, becoming nothing but desire made flesh. I will teach you to moan from a look, harden from my scent, even come from my voice alone."
"Fuck," Harry muttered.
"That too."
* * *
When Harry returned to Grimmauld Place, he was still partially aroused. Snape had eaten his pie, making obscene noise while flicking his tongue around his fork in a way that had kept Harry's eyes glued to it in fascination.
Hermione and Ron were waiting for him in the parlour as he apparated in.
"Well?" Ron asked impatiently. "How did it go?"
"It was um... interesting," Harry replied, collapsing on the couch and grabbing one of the throw pillows to place across his lap.
"Did you two talk about the possibility of getting married?" Hermione questioned.
Harry nodded. "Yes. He even pointed out the advantages of marrying him."
"Really? What did he tell you?"
Harry blushed. "Let's just say that I don't think Malfoy can top his offer."
* * *
Harry's meeting with Draco was very similar to his meeting with Snape, except while Draco also ate as if not having had decent food in weeks, which he hadn't, he complained about each bite being below his standards.
It was only after they'd finished dessert, which Draco had declared was undercooked, that they came to the heart of why they were there.
"I won't lie to you, Potter. The only reason I'm willing to do this is because I've found that I actually hate Azkaban more than the idea of marrying you."
"I'm flattered," Harry said sarcastically.
"It was a close call," Draco acknowledged.
Draco took a sip of coffee, then carefully set the cup aside. "I won't say I love you. I'd choke on the words and you wouldn't believe it, anyway. I also won't make promises that you won't believe I'd keep."
"Then how do you expect to convince me to choose you over Snape?"
Draco stood. With quick movements, he doffed his clothes. All of his clothes.
Harry's eyes widened. Draco's smooth, pale form came closer and the breath caught in Harry's throat. When Draco perched a hip onto the edge of the table next to him, Harry thought his heart would beat out of his chest.
Draco smirked down at him. "Convinced yet?"
* * *
Hermione and Ron stared at Harry as he returned to Grimmauld Place, waiting for the verdict.
"Draco's argument was extremely compelling," Harry choked out.
* * *
Snape frowned at Harry as he finished the last bite of dessert during their next meeting. "Why are we still doing this?" he snapped. "Tell the Ministry of your decision and we'll be done with it."
"I-I haven't made up my mind yet."
Snape's eyes narrowed as he considered this information. "What did Mister Malfoy do?"
"He...." Harry took a deep breath. "He stripped."
For a long time Snape stared at Harry.
"Very well," Snape said at last. "You have heard the old witches' tale about men with large noses, correct?"
"What?"
Snape glared at this show of stupidity. "That men with large noses are equally large elsewhere."
Harry shook his head, completely confused. "I don't understand. Why are you telling me this?"
Snape rose, unbuttoned his robes and then undid the placket of his trousers.
When Harry saw what Snape had hidden there, his mouth dropped open.
* * *
Draco and Harry had finished eating and moved to the couch.
"About the whole marriage thing. I wanted to let you know that I'm considering choosing Snape."
"Why?" Draco asked, then took one look at Harry's blushing face and scowled. "Snape showed you his cock, didn't he?"
"H-how did you know?" Harry stammered.
"The size of that man's cock is legendary."
"Then you understand why I'm-"
"Wait!" Draco interrupted. "Don't be too hasty. There are things you don't know about me."
"Like what?"
Draco moved closer to Harry on the couch so that their sides were pressed together.
"Although I have quite a bit of experience, it hasn't changed me," Draco purred.
"That's... that's nice?" Harry ventured.
"It's very nice, according to some," Draco whispered in Harry's ear. "Not often does one find in a single person both the experience of a whore and the tightness of a virgin."
Harry gulped.
* * *
Snape was not happy with Harry's lack of decision..
"I have no gag reflex," Snape announced during dinner.
Harry discovered, as he almost choked on his food, that his own gag reflex was working quite well.
* * *
"I'm exceptionally bendy," Draco stated.
Harry became quite stiff at hearing that pronouncement.
* * *
"I want them both," Harry wailed to Ron and Hermione.
Ron fainted.
* * *
"Have you made your decision?" Scrimgeour asked. He shuffled the parchments on his desk in an attempt not to appear too eager for the answer.
"My friend Ron has a theory that the reason you want me to marry a Death Eater is politically motivated," Harry said calmly. "That you want to diminish my chances as a future candidate for Minister of Magic."
Scrimgeour stilled for a few seconds, then plastered a bright smile on his face. "That's nonsense."
"My other friend, Hermione, agrees with Ron. However, she doesn't think your plan will work."
Scrimgeour's smile tightened into a flat line. "And, supposing that your friends are right about my motivations, why won't it work?"
"Because she doesn't think that my marrying a Death Eater will be enough to discredit me - that I might actually gain support."
"I-I'm sure she's mistaken."
"I don't know. Hermione's awfully smart. Brightest witch in her generation, and all that rot." Harry sighed before continuing. "It's quite possible that unless I do something completely against the mores and traditions of Wizarding society, then I'm doomed to become Minister."
Scrimgeour perked up. "Against the mores and traditions of Wizarding society, you say?"
"Yes. It'd have to be truly terrible for the public to turn against me. Something worse than marrying a Death Eater. Marrying two Death Eaters at the same time, though - that might do it." Harry looked at Scrimgeour. "It's a good thing that's unlikely to happen."
Scrimgeour smiled. "Did I mention that the Ministry has also decided to punish you for the wanton destruction of several treasured artifacts once owned by the founders of Hogwarts?"
* * *
Unfortunately for Scrimgeour, while many in Wizarding society were appalled at Harry marrying both Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape, a larger number were truly impressed by this display of bravery. Another portion of the population was awed by what it said for his stamina. Others were just plain kinky and saw Harry as their champion.
In less than ten years time, Harry Potter became the youngest Minister of Magic on record.
And he lived extremely happily ever after.
The End