EDIT: Before I would start posting the new chapter, I had to go over and reform this fic as it just didn't feel alright to me anymore. Chapters were broken apart, some corrections were made, and titles were changed. I apologize both for the hiatus and for this reconstruction.

Don't expect quick uploads and you may be surprised. In return of your patience however, I offer: Severus/Harry, smut, lot of dirty talk, suggestive themes, talk about BDSM, innuendoes and subtlety, a handsome Italian, nice pictures, courtesans and kings, expensive wine and in overall, a light, hopefully funny story, written to entice and ensnare the senses. This part though may fail. I'm still working on this part, actually.

There will also be mention of Ron/Hermione, Draco/Original Male Character and a brief SS/HP/OC thing - but dont let that discourage you. This story is and will remain Snarry.

I also got a playlist for this one: 8tracks (D-o-t) com (slash) captainvulcan (slash) kings-courtesans

And as always, I owe my life to Sexy. Lil. Emo, she edited this too and provided encouragement, the very thing I needed to write. Oh and yeah... I'm not Italian. There will be a bit of Italian down below and if it doesn't make sense, let me know how it will make sense and I'll correct it right away! There will also be a tiny Italian-English dictionary later on.

French translation of the story is available thanks to Nausicaa2012. For the link either contact me or look her up here, as the the story is posten on this site :)

For Charity

Prologue

o.O.o

Severus looked at the mountain of workload on the side of his desk and ran ten fingers through his hair.

"You cannot do this to yourself anymore, dear boy."

"I am perfectly fine, Albus."

"Tired is what you are, Severus," said the portrait.

The Headmaster, the current one, looked up at the old man who was hanging right above his head. The low, shimmering pain in his head returned and he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to will it away with no actual success.

It was only the middle of the semester, they were just over Christmas and his Defence against the Dark Arts professor had already deserted his post. Severus always critically scrutinized Albus Dumbledore's choices for the job until he had become Headmaster of Hogwarts eight years ago. First year he did not have a problem with the selection, Carrow came and no one had a word in it besides Lord Voldemort. But after that first horrid year, it was up to Severus Snape to choose the most suitable candidate for job.

The selection was narrow from the start. People had heard about the curse on it, from way before Severus had occupied the head position. Though some people became more interested in teaching this particular subject after Voldemort's downfall, the number of applicants was still closer to zero than ten. The curse was still holding back the brave idiots who thought they could manage a classroom full of even bigger idiots.

And so during the summer after the war had ended, Severus, already extremely busy with managing the rebuilding of the castle, broke away from the school and went to the Hog's Head for five interviews. The first candidate was barely nineteen years old and had studied at Beauxbatons. She was gorgeous and when Severus asked her what her knowledge consisted of she spouted the biggest bullshit Severus had ever heard in his entire career. Longbottom knew more about potions than this chit about the Dark Arts. When the Headmaster marched to the door and tore it open, the second candidate, who had been eavesdropping on the question he might also get, fell straight in.

Oh the irony wasn't lost on Severus.

He hexed the man out straight away.

After that, he settled with Applicant Four. Old man, very old, he had fallen asleep while explaining to Severus how to protect himself from curses. The professor just watched the man irritated but still somehow envious of his peace, listening to the long deep snores. But he was once a Ravenclaw and he still knew more than all the others put together.

During the exams, just when a third year girl was to handle a boggart, the shifter chose the old man's face. Severus witnessed as the girl, perfectly applying her studies in the subject, imagined his teacher in no other than frilly, scarlet underwear which brought laughter out of the whole Great Hall. The old man ashamed of the assumption that he would prefer women's undergarment or perhaps displeased that the truth had been revealed, slapped the young girl. He was immediately sacked and flooed to St. Mungo's with a broken nose and arm, courtesy of Headmaster Snape.

Second and third year was even worse. Severus had only one applicant both years and both left before the exams, forcing the Headmaster to substitute as he could not find anyone else for the time being. Interestingly there wasn't any grade below Exceeds Expectations these two years.

Forth year seemed devastating during summer as Severus did not have a single candidate. But Snape was being used to fight for what he wanted and he wanted a Defence Professor more than anything. So he promised allowances and flexible schedules and whatever the dunderheads needed to be convinced that this was their dream job. When only Stan Shunpike applied Severus thought he would give up his own position immediately. However, a reassuring shoulder-grip and a floo call later, Minerva stood in front of him with his newest Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, Luna Lovegood. Severus laughed; harder than ever. It was not appreciated. Minerva had not spoken a word to him in the next week, and that was when Severus had learned that without Minerva McGonagall, he would be already buried under a mountain of paperwork. Grudgingly, he sent a letter to Miss Lovegood who was more than eager to return. She wasn't that bad, though she often deferred from the curriculum and had the weirdest methods. But her students produced good grades, so Severus shut his mouth and was happy that the curse had not activated yet.

Until it did. And Miss Lovegood flew away with another naturalist and started hunting a long dead or most likely non-existent creature somewhere in South America, leaving a miserable Severus Snape and Defence Professor-less school behind. Again.

Fifth year was the worst. The guy took off with one of his N.E.W.T students. Severus thought he would never wash the shame off himself and the school. He was fed up at this point. And that was when the miracle happened. She applied.

Sheila was perfect. Born from two muggles, she was ecstatic when it came to anything magic related. She knew everything about anything and not just her subject; she was enthusiastic about the job, about the prospects, about teaching young minds. She was great at conversations, even the staff loved her. Her students adored her even though she had handed out almost as much detention as Snape did back in the old days. Funny and witty, she charmed everyone even Severus. She regulated the kids, helped out with the extracurricular activities, produced the greatest grades – and became pregnant in February. Severus had never been so heartbroken, he felt cheated when she moved away at the end of the term. He gifted her with a photo of the staff she had befriended but the witch wanted more. She took the love of her life with herself as well: Severus' own Arithmancy teacher. Two professors he had lost because of the love affair.

Vector was easily replaced, her position wasn't hunted by a curse after all. But the Defence position caused many headaches to Severus that summer again. That was the year when Draco's punishment, set by the Ministry after the war, was up. He had been forced to teach Muggle Studies because the Minister thought he ought to learn too from the people he wanted to enslave. His godson, funnily enough, had started to rather enjoy teaching it after the first year or so and he became quite good at it too. Severus begged him to leave the position but Draco was scared of the curse and besides, Muggle Studies pissed of his father, which he enjoyed immensely.

That was the first time they had mentioned Potter. Because Potter would stop this, he would break the curse and Severus knew it. But he would not ask the brat even if his life depended on it. Their history was over and they had no more business with each other. He had not seen the boy in five years and it was perfect like that.

Just when he was about to take the job himself, Charlie Weasley came to his rescue on a dragon. Quite literally. He and his gang of dragon keepers wanted to establish a new colony in Britain. While the dragon sanctuary was building, Mr. Weasley couldn't operate in Romania as he had to oversee the work in Scotland but he did not want to laze around either. He was the best candidate as he was the only one. He wasn't as good as Sheila, but Severus had worse in both Defence professors and Weasleys so he welcomed the ginger. The sanctuary was finished and they waved painful goodbye to another professor, who flew away on a Chinese Fireball to the great amusement of his ex-students.

His current Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, who wasn't a teacher anymore either, came to him on his knees. It had happened in a dark corner of an even darker bar. They had been drunk and Severus craved some release. The man had been on his knees, his mouth on Severus, sucking his hard cock only through his jeans yet but that was about to change. Then the Headmaster confessed in a drunken haze why he was so irritated. The man told him he was rather good with "defence stuff" and Severus had been suddenly facing a very difficult decision: blow job or defence job? Looking back at it now, the Headmaster knew he had chosen the wrong thing. The first option at least would have given him five minutes of bliss but instead he got three months of constant suffering. He had to substitute more lessons than how much his professor was actually giving. The man was on and off spotted in Knockturn Ally, thankfully not doing anything illegal just frequently visiting bars. As it turned out later on, he wasn't visiting bars, or rather it wasn't the bars he was visiting. It was the clientele and most importantly, their habits. According to the Prophet the man was the best submissive in Knockturn Ally and its close vicinity. The photos about him tied off to a bed with two cocks in his arse and leather straps and whatnots around his own bits and nipples was convincing enough. Severus didn't have a problem with this kind of bedroom behaviour as long as it was in the bedroom not in the Prophet at every Wizarding home.

The man had gotten sacked and Severus took over the position. By the start of the winter holiday, he was in physical pain from lack of sleep, the bags under his eyes so deep, he could probably crawl into them and rest there. He lost weight due to his irregular eating habits, or rather lack of it, given the second he was out of the classroom he started working on the four feet of paperwork that had been gathering on his desk. With a minimum of two hours of sleep a day, he taught heroically day after day, just so he can sign some papers and grade some tests during the evening and spend the rest of the night surviving only on coffee while brewing potions for the infirmary and hoping that he would have a moment to look for a suitable candidate during the upcoming winter holiday or even better, Santa would drop one off just for him.

Santa Clause had come and brought only socks and books with him. No Defence teacher and no more time to look for it, either.

A lethal tiredness came over Severus as he watched the mountains of parchments. No matter how much Draco, Minerva and the rest of the staff had helped him out, he simply wasn't able to be Headmaster and Defence against the Dark Arts teacher at the same time. He rubbed his eyes, drank some coffee and pulled a paper from the top of the stack. The letters swam before his eyes. He frowned, tried to blink away the tiredness but it was in vain. He needed to sleep; he had been running around like a madman in the last thirty-eight hours. He was tired, thirsty, and hungry and needed a massage more than anything.

The bells rung midnight and Severus looked up. He stared towards the dark windows for a moment, not understanding why the Hogwarts bells were chiming.

"It's New Year's Eve, Severus," explained a sad voice over his head. "Don't spend the first moments of the upcoming year working. Go down, celebrate with your friends and colleagues."

Severus sighed deeply. When did this happen? Last time he checked, they still had three days till New Year's. "I'm busy, Albus. Leave me alone."

Suddenly, the fireplace flared up and a drunk blond staggered out of the green flames holding two glasses of authentic and very expensive French champagne.

"Make a wish!" he cried, his voice sluggish from the alcohol.

"Get me a Defence professor," reacted Severus without hesitation. Draco pushed the drink in his hand and clinked their glasses.

"Done," he said then, downing his sparkling wine and stumbling back into the flames. He was gone before Severus could even utter a world.

He put down a glass and looked back at the parchment in front of him. He could read the words now, but he wished he didn't. They were utter rubbish. One of the worst essays he had ever read. He stared at the paper for one more minute, listening to the first seconds of the new year tick by. Then he dropped the quill, pushed away the whole stack of paper and grabbed his champagne.

"To fuck with all this," he grunted, downing his drink. He pushed his chair away from the table, stood up and marched to the door. Grabbing the handle, he looked back. "Happy New Year, Albus."

Twinkling blue eyes looked back at him merrily, "And to you, my dear boy. May it bring you happiness and rest."

Severus rolled his eyes and went down to celebrate. He knew he would regret it tomorrow. But tomorrow was a couple more glasses of fine champagne away, so he couldn't care less at the moment.

o.O.o

The cheap scotch dried his throat, but hell, it was at least cold. He pressed it against his temple.

"Are you still hung over?" Smirked his godson.

Tomorrow came much more sooner than he would have appreciated it. The tiredness took over him completely and knocked him out. "I'm not hung over," Severus croaked. "I'm still fucking drunk, that's what I am." He was probably both though. His head was pounding so hard he wanted to turn around just to see there really wasn't a dragon behind him knocking its head against his.

"School starts tomorrow," Draco reminded him. He glared at the boy. Malfoy was twenty-five, but as Severus had helped changing his smelly diapers, it was hard to look at him in any other way. Though as if the rumours were true – and they were – Draco had almost as much experience as Severus had with his forty-five years.

"And why would you think I need to be reminded of that?" Bloodshot black eyes gave a searching look to the blond but he didn't waver.

"Because it's six in the evening and you're drinking scotch instead of coffee and you're still wearing your clothes from yesterday. And you... well, excuse me, but you smell," came the answer Severus did not really want to hear. He was, thank you very much, perfectly aware of all this.

"Fuck off, Draco," he grunted.

"Severus, when was the last time you ate?" Draco inquired softly, coming closer to him and taking the glass from his hand. He vanished it with a flash of his wand. "And I mean a proper meal not just a bite or two."

"What day is it?"

"Sunday," came the reply, followed by an eye roll.

Severus nodded. He shouldn't have. His headache just got a million times worse. "Three days ago."

"Go have a shower, eat something, and then go to bed." Draco pulled him up and ushered him towards the secret door that led to the Headmaster's chambers. "And we're sharing the Defence classes from tomorrow. You have the lower years, one and two, I'm taking over the rest."

Severus raised his head and looked into the grey eyes. He felt so grateful he would have kissed Draco, did he not think of the boy as his own blood. "Would you really?" He breathed then promptly hugged his godson.

"Yeah," Draco mumbled. "Just get off me. You're drunk and you smell like..." Severus leant away and Draco sniffed the air around him, "Dungbombs?"

Realizing just then how truly drunk he still was, Severus sniggered. Sallow memories from New Year's came back. A wasted Hagrid, many of those smelly bombs and a furious Filch, and that was all he remembered. But it was enough to make him smile sloppily.

"What's with the attire?" He asked as he looked at Draco, studying him as if only noticing him right now. The boy was wearing fancy robes, nothing he would wear at Hogwarts. "Where are you off to?"

"Buying your bloody birthday gift," came the testy answer.

"You better not give me something cheap this year. You still owe me one for that Come As You Are* business."

Draco had the decorum to at least blush. Couple of months ago, he was almost outed by the Prophet like the other teacher. It was only thanks to Severus and a rather large bag of galleons that the young man still had his job and his well guarded secret which involved gags, whips, iron clips and a lot of leather.

"Oh I'm sure it won't come cheap. I don't even know if it will come willingly."

Severus didn't have a single clue what the blond was on about but his headache returned as if someone had just decided to use his head as a boxing bag. He closed his eyes and waved. "See you tomorrow, Draco. Do not be late, and if I am, come check on me. I might have just died."

*Come as you are is actually a Canadian shop where you can purchase... well why would I tell, go look it up if you're interested ;)