Snape stalked the halls, frustrated beyond belief at his own impotence in the face of the new reports of Death Eater activity rolling in every day. More and more businesses were being raided or abandoned, more homes found devoid of life, more families torn asunder by the depredations of war. And all the while, Snape was trapped at Hogwarts, teaching potions to idiots and worse than useless, now that his cover had been blown.

It was only when he looked at Harry that he felt the sacrifice was worthwhile, and even he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty about that.

He stormed into his office after a long night of venting his spleen on every horny, errant student lurking in dark corners hoping to get a bit of a snog, only to come up short at the sight of not one but two unexpected guests.

"Severus!" said Fred cheerfully, from where he was lounging in Snape's chair, with his feet up on Snape's desk.

"We were wondering when you'd show up," said George, propped against the back of the chair and running his fingers sensually through Fred's hair.

"We wanted to surprise you," said Fred, reaching back unerringly to slip his fingers down over the bulge of George's erect cock.

"If you're free for the night, that is," said George.

Snape closed the door behind him, and George leaned down to kiss his brother deeply, an erotic display that never failed to get Snape's libido very firmly interested. "All night?" asked Snape hopefully, already moving toward the door to his private quarters.

"All night," the twins agreed in unison, Fred following Snape with George hot on his heels.

Snape got his wards to accept him despite his distraction, and the door swung open to reveal a parlour already lit by the house elves, a fire burning cheerily in the hearth. Much to Snape's relief, Austereus seemed to have had other business for the night, and his frame contained nothing but the imposing, empty desk he'd been painted behind, and the seldom-seen leather armchair he usually occupied. "Bed?" asked Snape, wanting both to commence immediately and to avoid having his ancestor return at a bad moment.

"Bed," agreed George, stripping his shirt off over his head.

"Or bath," suggested Fred, following suit.

Snape chuckled, "They're both this way," he said, leading them into the bedroom and shutting the door firmly behind him. "Perhaps bed, then bath, then back to bed?" he offered, knowing that he had enough pent-up frustration to last at least two rounds, if not three.

"Perfect," said George, skinning out of his clothing and leaving it in a pile.

Fred rolled his eyes and levitated the pile to a chair, then added his own. "Our coats are in your office, no one will find that suspicious, I trust?"

"The wards are up now, anyway," said Snape, hanging his own clothing up in the wardrobe, which would clean and press them as soon as the door was closed, leaving the suit clean and ready for the morning. "Did you bring anything besides yourselves?" he asked, adding, "Not that you two aren't bounty enough."

"Naah, we figured you'd have lube," said Fred, coming over to help Snape with his boots.

"And the elves will take care of the rest," said George, amused.

"You might as well hang your things in the wardrobe, then," said Snape, slipping out of his shirt, balanced on one foot in deference to Fred's delightfully submissive assistance.

The exchanged an opaque look, and George gathered their clothing and began placing it just as Snape had, socks and pants in the little hamper to one side, shirts and trousers on some spare hangers, and even their scruffy old jackets summoned from the other room after a moment's thought. "There, all neat," said George with a grin, just as Fred reached past him to put Snape's socks and everyone's shoes in their proper places.

Snape looked at them both and then sighed. "I'm not sure I have the energy for taking roles tonight," he confessed. He was weary in spirit more than body, tired of having nothing to do but wait and train Harry in skills he might never use, that might save his life.

Fred grinned and nuzzled at his thigh. "You don't have to," he said, mouth moving to fill itself with Snape's bollocks rather than mere words.

"We just missed you," said George simply, stepping in for a kiss.

Snape returned the kiss with interest, a shiver running through him as Fred's wicked tongue flicked over his sensitive skin. "I missed you, too," he confessed, hoping they'd understand that he'd missed their conversations, too, and their companionship, almost more than the sex.

Almost.

Snape tugged gently at Fred's hair until he could claim a kiss from Fred's wet mouth. He led them both to his bed, wide and lonely as it had seemed and barely big enough for the three of them now.

"I want you inside of me," said George, slipping between the sheets first and pulling Snape to him.

"While I'm inside you," added Fred, the words a caress against Snape's ear as much as his fingers were caressing Snape's arse.

"Good," said Snape, all he could think of when he was suddenly surrounded by their warmth, held and touched so tenderly that even he couldn't deny there was some measure of affection, some caring in their actions.

It was an affection that he returned, despite the growing love for Harry that he could admit to in the safety of his own mind, in the sanctuary of their arms.

Their kisses lingered on and on, one and then the other and then both, wet and hot and undemanding now that their course had been laid. As if in tacit agreement, they were all content to take the long path tonight, reminding themselves with lips and hands and bodies what they'd been missing in the months since the summer. The twins' skin was rougher now that it was winter, though their inner thighs were still soft as silk, and at some point George had shaved his bollocks while Fred's were still fuzzed, which made for an interesting sensation when Snape had a hand wrapped around each.

"I lost a bet," said George, giving Snape's left nipple a lick.

"I like the way they feel against my tongue," said Fred, sucking a mark onto Snape's neck.

Snape gave both handfuls a gentle squeeze. "It does make you easier to tell apart in the dark," he teased, kissing George's hair and inhaling the scent of hair potion and confectioner's sugar. "Working on something new?" he asked, slipping his fingers back behind their balls to press up teasingly.

Twin gasps, and they stumbled over each other to say, "Sex now, work later."

Snape chuckled wickedly and stole kisses, then released them both and rolled onto his side to present his arse to Fred. His fingers found George's hair first, then skittered down his body, sneaking back until they found his entrance and began to caress it, not going inside but just stroking the wrinkled flesh with one dry fingertip.

One of George's hands found Snape's arse and, instead of returning the caress, he pulled it open so that Fred's slick fingers could wend their way inside. The conjured lubricant wasn't as good as the potions they brewed themselves, any of them, but it was quick and good enough to get one thick finger buried in Snape's body, and in that moment that was all that mattered to Snape. George gave his cheek a squeeze and then let go, slipping the hand back up his body and into his hair, finding his mouth to drink down the sounds that Fred was wringing from him. "You're so beautiful when we fuck you," said Fred, breath hot in his ear, bringing to mind images of them both together, in him at once.

Snape groaned, feeling his body flare open at the thought, feeling George's entrance flutter against his fingertip. He took a deep breath and kissed George hard, then said a bit desperately, "The r-red apple."

Fred's brows knit, then he rolled over and said, "Oh!" When he returned, he held the shining apple-shaped glass bottle, Harry's gift to Snape. It had seen much use this year already, since Snape had first made the slow-brewing lubricant it now contained, concentrated enough that just a few drops would last through a long wank, and only a few more would be needed for this.

Snape pulled out the leaf stopper with its long, frosted stem, then glided it up and around his own cock, leaving random patterns of glistening fluid. He returned it to the bottle and held out his hand, the other trapped beneath him. "If you would do the honours?" he asked, holding out two fingers in obscene demand.

Fred groaned and stroked the stopper over Snape's fingers, the touch of cool glass nearly as arousing as it had been on the more intimate flesh of his cock. "Perfect," said Snape, using his thumb to smear it around, then returning his attention to George's willing body.

"Please," said George, kissing him hungrily as soon as his mouth was in reach. Snape obliged him both with kisses and a finger slipped into his willing entrance, finding him ready enough that one swiftly became two.

"Missed you," groaned Fred, his cock already slick and pressed at Snape's arse, demanding entrance. Snape pushed back just enough to give permission, and Fred groaned and slid forward, inward. "Need you," he gasped, shuddering to a stop once he was fully engulfed by Snape's body.

"Need you," echoed George, pulling away and rolling over, letting Snape guide him back until he could slide himself down onto Snape's cock, until everything was tight and hot and wonderfully close between the three of them.

"Need this," admitted Snape, face buried in the back of George's neck as he struggled to stay still, to hold onto this moment as long as they'd let him.

Fred's lips moved over Snape's shoulder, lightly grazing, tongue flicking out to taste here and there as he worked his way up to Snape's neck. "Good," he said, a possessive note to his voice that sent heat straight to Snape's balls. Fred's hand slipped up Snape's body, then tugged his chin back until they could kiss awkwardly. He looked like he might have wanted to say more, but George let out a frustrated sound and pushed back, taking Snape that last, tiny bit deeper.

"Now!" insisted George, and the lust swept away any laughter from Snape's mind as Fred pulled slowly away, tugging Snape with him. It took a few tries before they established a rhythm of short, sharp strokes that made use of every bit of motion they could manage, entwined as they were. The last of their words lost coherence and their voices became a chorus of pleasure, Snape's hand wrapping around George's cock and trying to imagine a world in which George could be in Fred to truly complete the circuit.

Snape was the first to let go, coming with a low groan as his whole body bucked and tightened with the force of his release. Rather than let himself go limp with the afterglow, he forced his hips and hand to keep time with Fred's, the sensations nearly overwhelming in the wake of such pleasure. George was next, coming over Snape's hand with a low groan, arse tightening just enough to draw a gasp from Snape, pleasure so intense it was almost pain shivering along his nerves. Fred kept going, fucking into him, into them both for what seemed like forever until he, too, found the peak of release and spilled into Snape.

Snape couldn't help but be grateful when George rolled away, turning over and drawing him close, pulling him off of Fred's softening cock with a sweet, enticing kiss.

"We really have missed you," said Fred softly.

"I know," said Snape; he'd felt it with every touch, every stroke, every kiss, the longing that suffused his own body connecting with theirs, translating itself into their shared desires.

George laughed and kissed him again, while Fred snuggled back up, sharing their closeness, too. "We don't want to lose you," whispered George.

Snape closed his eyes and swallowed, nodding. "I don't know what will happen," he confessed. "Harry loves you, too."

"We love him," agreed Fred, kissing George softly, cheek resting against Snape's.

They shared a sigh and fell silent, staying together until their sweat had cooled, until their breaths were slow and even, until the moment passed and the banked coals of desire began to spark anew, fuelled by the very closeness that had cooled them. "I think," said Snape, licking his way into Fred's mouth despite the awkward angle, "that it's bath time."

Fred grinned against his lips, then passed the kiss to George so he could slip out of bed. "I think," he began, giving Snape's hips a gentle tug.

"You're right," finished George, nipping at Snape's lower lip playfully before letting him get up, then following along.

They padded into the bathroom together, and Snape set the tub to filling with a great deal of gratuitous bending over. While not as magnificent as the bath set aside for the Prefects, Snape's tub was also sunken, with plenty of room for three men who didn't mind getting a bit close, and over two dozen silver snake taps that gave luxurious bubbles, oils and soaps. The tub slowly filled, the water swirling green with a plethora of golden, star-shaped bubbles coming up from the bottom to float on top, giving off a spicy scent that went well with the soft herbal bath oil. It was a luxury Snape appreciated, and one he was glad he had to share with the twins.

"Nice," said George, stepping down into the tub and settling on one of the benches, cock and bollocks floating between spread thighs before they were covered by the rising bubbles.

"Very," said Fred, slipping in on the other side, not bothering with the shallow steps. They left a conspicuous space between them which Snape gladly filled, though he took the stairs rather than risk spoiling his evening with a twisted ankle or bruised hip.

Snape let his hands find the tempting goal of their balls once more, the warm sacs filling each palm comfortably. "The texture really is quite intriguing," said Snape, rolling them and tugging them. "It's the contrast that makes it, I think."

They both laughed and took turns kissing him, hands roaming over Snape's body and each other, while Snape contented himself with what was to be found in their laps, and between their legs. The bath oil, a potion he himself renewed when it began to ran out, eased his way, so his fingers glided like silk over their cocks, between conveniently spreading thighs, and into welcoming bodies. Their kisses and touches grew more playful, starting as a tickle-and-fondle fight and ending with a series of bubble-head charms and a very interesting underwater configuration that barely fit even in Snape's enormous tub.

When they finally made it back into the bedroom, laughter still flitting between them and a smile on all their faces, they found yet another surprise. A tray had appeared by the bed, containing not Snape's usual nighttime snack of tea and shortbread, but a steaming pitcher of cocoa, bowls of peppermint candy, whipped cream and marshmallows to put in it, and a whole spice cake that smelled enticingly of rum and cinnamon.

"What's this?" asked Fred, picking up a sweet and popping it in his mouth.

Snape smiled and poured a cup, adding two peppermints and a dollop of sweet cream. "Apparently, the house elves have figured out you're here, and decided that we all needed a bit of a treat."

George grinned. "Brilliant, then there'll be breakfast!" He poured for himself and Fred as well, piling one up with marshmallows and putting half the bowl of whipped cream on the other.

Fred cut into the cake wordlessly, finding it dotted with raisins and still warm enough to steam as he put generous portions on the three plates. "This is what I call comfort," he said, hopping into bed. One plate and the cup with all the cream followed him, and took a big swig of the chocolate, getting cream on the end of his nose.

Snape chuckled and climbed in right after him. "If you get crumbs in my bed, I shall have to spank you both," he warned. Then he spoiled the effect by leaning in to lick the cream off Fred's nose, following it up with a kiss.

He felt the bed dip as George joined them, their treats floating into place in front of each of them like obedient pets, bobbing gently and waiting to please. "That's not much of a threat, considering how much we enjoyed our last spankings," said George, giving Snape's ear a little nip and then eating a big bite of cake.

Fred took a bite, too, and made a face that until now Snape associated entirely with more carnal pursuits. "Oh, that's heavenly," he said, sinking down into the pillows a little and tugging his plate closer.

Snape tasted his own cake and couldn't help but agree, and they all ate in silence for a few minutes, slowly snuggling closer until they were left with nothing but cocoa, crumbs, and each other. "So, just what is this new project?" asked Snape, enjoying the sharp, minty flavour of his drink, now that the sweets had melted and mixed properly with the chocolate.

Fred and George exchanged looks, and then they both grinned openly. "You can't tell anyone," said George.

"It's going to be brilliant," said Fred, bouncing excitedly.

"It's like a combination of a Disillusionment charm," explained George.

"And a simple pattern charm, like they use for cheap clothes," added Fred

"Except on our fabric, it'll be like a chameleon!" finished George triumphantly.

"You know, matching your surroundings wherever you go," explained Fred, when Snape looked a bit blank.

Snape blinked, then grinned. "Not as good as an invisibility cloak, but a bit cheaper, I'd expect," he said, taking another sip of his minty cocoa. "Will you be able to turn it off, so it's just a cloak sometimes?"

Fred grinned. "That was the idea that won me the bet," he said, giving George a leer. "We're making it reversible."

George leered right back, licking a bit of cream off his lips. "Black on one side, chameleon on the other," he said, then finished off the last of his cocoa and sent the cup back to the tray. "Now..."

"Are you feeling fortified?" asked Fred, sending his own cup away and leaning right over Snape to meet George in the middle for a kiss that was hotter than the chocolate.

Snape gulped down the last of his, figuring he'd need the sugar to keep up with the twins. "I'm certainly feeling inspired," he said, sending his own cup away and running his hands down each of their backs to cup their round, inviting arses. He joined in the kiss with the smoothness of long practice, and let himself enjoy the time he had with his lovers; his worries would still be around in the morning.

Tonight, he had far more interesting things to think about.

A Question of Etiquette XXII: Falling Away