Title: Rumours Part 7

Author: Bell Pie toggledog@yahoo.com

Pairings: Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius

Rating: NC17. Angsty, rape. You know or you would not be reading, right?

Author’s Notes: The first book is my least fave of all the books. And though I have read it about two to three times, I… um… don’t own it. I have always borrowed it off friends. Therefore, sorry if references to eleven year old Harry and Draco are slightly off. I am working off memory.

Prologue- The Day after Percy’s Testimony.

The Potions Master was wont to contain his sneer as he watched the two lovers, exhibiting their ardor for all to gawk at through the window of Madam Malkin’s. He would have expected such vulgar display from the rather unprincipled Harry Potter, but for Draco Malfoy to allow himself to be brazenly caressed by his dark haired lover in full view of any one that may be walking past, was quite a surprise. Severus Snape was more than somewhat disappointed in his prize pupil. But then, he had started to lose esteem in the dark haired man’s eyes when he chose Potter as consort. It was sickening, watching them in various places throughout Hogwarts together, virtually paw at each other, when they thought no one was watching. It was exactly like-

Snape tore his eyes from the scene, continued quickly down Diagon Alley. He was tempted to walk inside and expose them for abandoning University for the day. However, then he’d have to explain why he was out of Hogwarts. He would be damned if he was to mark papers on his birthday. Severus had received one gift; a pair of socks from Dumbledore, which he had promptly thrown into the drawer with the others. The old wizard was obsessed and possibly insane. It didn't matter, the fact that no one else cared enough to give him any present for his birthday. (Not even Professor Nostro. That burgeoning friendship was abruptly cut off when Snape refused to defend Nostro after he was hit. That was the closest the Potions Master had ever come to actually feeling any degree of warmth for Harry.) Snape told himself he did not care. He did not need careless trivial objects from others he’d probably throw out, anyway.

And it was of no concern that he was spending his birthday by himself, as he had done for the past twenty years. He preferred his own company, anyway. At least then he was assured of intelligent conversation.

But why Potter? Snape stopped to catch his breath by the bench Draco had sat on days before, while waiting for his father to return from shopping for him. Malfoy had always hated the perfect little Gryffindor. Snape considered Potter to be an ‘arrogant tosspot’, the exact words he had once slurred at his worshipped father, James. He had been gratified that his favourite student had continued where he had left off. Indeed, Snape was annoyed he didn’t terrorize the Marauders as much as he should have, when he had the chance, back in his youth.

But now… it really didn’t make sense. Draco had the looks and power to have anyone he wanted. Why waste it on –

Snape’s recoil from the man behind him was apparent only by the slight purse of lips. He did not need to turn to know who the one gripping his shoulder was.

A moment later, he found himself amongst the overgrown gardens of the Haunted Shack, facing a smiling Crispin Flint, who leaned against the crumbling stone not exactly supporting the front wall. He angrily shook the man’s arm off him.

"Fitting, isn’t it?" Crispin gestured to the area around them.

"What do you want, Flint?"

"Can’t we talk? Buddy to buddy? I haven’t seen you for a while, Sevie. It’s your birthday today. I know that."

Severus favoured the grinning man with an icy glare.

"I saw you watching them. They’re both so very beautiful, aren’t they?"

The dark haired man cleared his throat in irritation. "What do you want, Flint?" He repeated.

Crispin’s toothy grin grew larger, displaying overly crowded jugulars. "Birthday surprise for you, good buddy. Thought I’d tell you the good news. The Dark Lord is concocting a plan, to bring these two little beauties right into our hands. And the Death Eaters are planning on a bit of fun before their unfortunate demise. Now, I’m assuming Potter isn’t to your taste but I can wrangle fifth place for a go with Draco after the Dark Lord, Wormtail, my son and I."

Snape sealed his disgust and shock, clenched his churning stomach. To keep as one of the Dark Lord’s highest echelon henchmen, pride was often squashed for withering debasement. His placement as Death Eater tore Snape’s dignity to shreds, replacing it with dull acceptance of his own self denial. But it was necessary. Just as the evils he had committed were for necessary means. Sanctioned by Dumbledore. Snape, perhaps more than the old wizard himself, knew that sometimes the line between good and evil could be snapped, intermingling both so it was no longer apparent which was which.

He had never looked upon Draco in such a way. To look at one he begrudgingly respected with simple lust was a concept that far demeaned them both.

"I would like that very much."

He said it through clenched teeth, to keep out the bile rising in his throat. Best to agree, for now. He made a quick inner vow that if Crispin or his likewise demented son lay another finger on the Slytherin, or ( Snape was hesitant to admit, considering his own feelings towards the boy. But then, gang rape was something he would not even wish on Harry Potter) his lover, Snape would be forced to go against the Dark Lord, for torturing and murdering two of his best followers.

Crispin was laughing once more. High pitched chuffaws he had retained since high school. Severus longed to smash his teeth right down his throat until he choked.

"Poor, poor Sevvie. By the way, I’ve got a present for you."

The man reached into his pocket and withdrew a lock of light tawny hair, tied in a maroon ribbon. Snape’s masked face betrayed a spark of intense loathing directed at the portly man before him, upon acknowledgement of its original owner.

"Twenty years old, that is. So you take good care of it. Tore it right out of his head, I did, right when I was tearing into someplace else." He had the gall to wink. " You should have heard him scream. Like a right little angel, he sounded."

Snape bit his lip, refusing to be bated.

"Isn’t that what you said that one time, Sevvie? A right angel?" He laughed once more. "Look at yourself, Snape. You’re pathetic. Do you really think he doesn’t see through your false loathing? The little slut is laughing at you! You should have fucked him, Sevie. I did tell you. You should have held him down and fucked him till he bled, like I did."

The dark haired man could not bear to look this man in the eye, lest he do something he regretted. This he solved by turning his back to the man.

"Poor, poor Severus." Crispin sounded genuinely sympathetic. "Unrequited love. It’s a bitch, aint it? Oh, what the fuck. How about if I do you a favour. I’m sure the Dark Lord wouldn’t complain to also including one of the Order’s most valued members in our little plan. Hey, I’ll even give you first go. Would you like that… hmm…?"

Snape could not contain the trembling racking his slender frame. He couldn’t, wouldn’t answer. It was as if his jaw had been locked shut. He was not even able to open his mouth to issue an angry cry of declamation. Crispin had touched a nerve that had been continually skewered with red hot pokers for the past twenty five years. So often, he had fantasized about taking HIM against his consent, feeling HIM beg and plead for him to stop, force the other to watch. A part of him now still yearned to. He despised HIM. He wanted to force his potions down his throat until he drowned, golden flecked brown eyes begging, pleading for him to cease as his lungs were filled, force HIM to watch as he sliced the other to ribbons, then take him, take him hard, as hard as he could, force HIM to respond, force him to like it, to want him. Force HIM to love Severus Snape.

Snape cried out in alarm.

"See, I have something that Black can never surpass. I was his first. I was also his last, for a long time. Just like Marcus with Draco. Draco still belongs to Marcus, even now. For that beautiful boy won’t be fucking Harry Potter for a long time now my son’s had him, I can assure you off that."

Snape resolutely curled his shoulders up to a proud upright stance and turned to look Crispin in the eye.

"Is there any thing more you would like to say to me? For I have matters to attend to."

Snape’s mind was busy memorizing what Crispin had said, to deliver verbatim back to Dumbledore.

Crispin looked a little affronted. "Well, no. Oh, ok. If you’re going to be like that. I’ll be seeing you, Sevvie."

Snape did not move straight away, when Crispin apparated away from the area. As he looked at the crumbling sandstone, his face betrayed a yearning and anguish of such purity it almost made the man’s unpleasant features look innocent. He had a perfect moment of clarity in his twisted mindset, corrupted by years of pain.

Snape shook his head of such asinine thoughts, the spell broken. He berated himself for being so foolish. He wasn’t in love with Lupin, he told himself. It was just a silly, teenage crush.

He couldn’t understand how the old fool could allow Remus Lupin to be the wizard lawyer of a boy raped by Marcus Flint when Dumbledore knew that Lupin had, himself, been raped in school by Crispin Flint. Snape considered that perhaps this was a little too close to Remus, just as it was with Percy. Anger stabbed at his veins as he considered that perhaps it was simply a case of Dumbledore playing favourites. As he did in high school. As he always did.

Harry Potter?

Snape had to steel himself to not start yelling at the powerful wizard, as he apparated to an area not far from Hogwarts.

***

Percy continued to stare at his curly haired ex-girlfriend a moment before abruptly looking away, seeming to find his own pale, freckled hands suddenly rather interesting. Lupin patted his hand as he did with Draco and whispered in his ear. Whereas the Slytherin had kept his head down as Remus talked to him, Percy looked up and stared forward, resolute. He nodded once and briefly looked up to his family’s tier.

Fresh guilt washed over Harry. The Weasleys should have been on the tier he was on. His had a much better view. Why didn’t he request it? It didn’t matter as much to him what tier he was on, he argued to himself, but it was their son who had been attacked. They should have the best view possible. In fact…

He turned to Ron to ask if he wanted to swap chairs but the sight of the boy’s shaking hands stopped him. Ron’s head was bent low to his chest, body rocking gently from silent sobs. Harry was at a loss as what to do. If it was Draco, he would have held him to him and stroked his hair until the trembling subsided. But this wasn’t his lover, this was his best friend. A shot of self loathing burrowed deep into Harry’s heart at how he had mistreated Ron earlier. Sirius had one hand half heartedly out towards Ron, seemingly as lost as Harry was. Finally, a pair of long fingers gently caressed Ron’s shoulder. The boy gave in to the touch and moved his head onto Hermione’s chest as she enfolded her arms around him.

On the floor below, Percy stared straight forward, seemingly at particular point in the barrier before him that held the rung of the first tier. His back was rigid, hands folded neatly against his legs. Harry remembered the first day he had seen Percy in court, how proud he had felt. How proud he was sure the Weasleys must have been.

His manner was somewhat different to Draco’s, a little more stiff, without the inherent grace that followed the Slytherin’s every move. But, their similarities lay in the upright deportment of head, the proud, erect backs, signals of their extreme courage, even in extreme adversity. Percy’s eyes finally rested on the silver blonde by the desk, a few feet before him. To Harry’s immense wonder and surprise, Percy offered him a sad smile, which Draco returned.

Remus sat down in the chair parallel to Percy’s, leaning forward slightly. A shift in the seat a few people down from Harry signaled Snape doing the same. Harry wasn’t sure, but it looked to him that the Potions Master was watching Lupin, rather than Percy.

The ex-student swallowed, bit his lip and started to talk. His voice, though stripped of its usual proud tones, still held strong carriage, almost bordering on regal.

"It happened after my brother, Ron stated that Sirius Black had stood over his bed with a knife in his sleep. This was in my final year at Hogwarts, five years ago."

Ron breathed in to let out a barely hearable but still obvious snivel

"Of course, the Gryffindor common room was in a panic, so Professor McGonagall stepped out to find Dumbledore, Filch and Snape. I followed her out of the room. We located Filch straight away by the library. I told McGonagall that she should go to Dumbledore and Snape and that I would inform," he turned to the man next to him and smiled. "Remus Lupin. She tried to refuse me but I insisted."

Hearing sharp whispers beside him, Harry could see McGonagall talking very sharply into Dumbledore’s ear. The old wizard shook his head, smiled and gently patted the woman’s hand. McGonagall whispered something back to Dumbledore and he returned the whisper. McGonagall finally turned back to the front, wearing an expression Harry couldn’t identify. Percy’s continued talking turned him back to the front.

"So McGonagall left and I walked down the hall from from the library towards Lupin’s office, where I literally ran straight into Marcus Flint." He turned to Remus and raised a brow. Remus looked to Draco.

"Draco, you have an idea why Marcus Flint was wondering around Hogwarts halls, late at night, don’t you."

The boy nodded, slowly. "He… I was in the common room and I saw him walking out of the portal. I asked him what he was doing and he said it was none of my business. And I told him to stop being a prick. And he said ‘I’m looking for an ‘immensely enjoyable experience.’" His voice started to shake. "I didn’t make the connection until after I found out what happened to Percy. I mean, I didn’t even think about it. But, we sat in Lupin’s- can I mention this?" He suddenly asked Lupin.

"Mention what?"

Draco whispered to Remus, who nodded, so he continued. "We both told our stories to Lupin and when I heard Percy’s I remembered what Marcus had said and I also made the connection to what Marcus had said to me, before he left." He stopped, wiped a tear from his face. " I think he was looking for someone to rape that night."

He mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ to the boy. Percy imperceptibly nodded, then continued.

"I told Marcus that he was to return to his dormitory immediately. He ignored me and walked into the Hogwarts Library." He stopped, took a deep breath. "Well, obviously I was concerned that if a ‘dangerous criminal’ was about, then there should be no foolish behavior from the students. I followed him to repeat my order to go back to his dormitory. As soon as I stepped into the library, he knocked me across the nose. I recovered to my feet and set about looking for him. Though I lighted my wand, it was still very dark and difficult to find him. I reiterated that it was not a situation for games…"

He was silent a moment.

"He grabbed me from behind and twisted my arms behind my back, so the wand fell to the floor. I told him ‘I am not finding this amusing.’" His voice took on a barely perceptible waver as he continued. "I attempted to struggle but his hold on me was too strong. He- he was breathing rather harshly and I started to… started to guess… his intentions." The waver of his voice grew more perceptible. "I tried to scream for help but he clamped a hand over my mouth. It smelt of coconut and seaweed. I know because I looked it up later and discovered that a common aphrodisiac named ‘Arimenthu’ has that smell."

Harry’s guts began to physically ache. He pressed his hand against his stomach to quell the pain somewhat. Ron continued to be held by Hermione. The twins, on the tier below, were comforting each other with subtle strokes to each other’s hands and faces.

"Among its other properties is…" The man blushed as he continued. "Depending on how much is drunk, sustaining an erection for hours on end, even after orgasm."

Harry just had one of the mysteries of Draco’s violations be solved for him. He still had the bottle under his bed at the Dursleys

"He wrenched my shoulder up more. It was quite painful by this time and he." The trembled tone worsened as he spoke. It now continued to his body. "Forced me to lie face down over a desk. I remember my head was pressed down onto a book." His face reddened with humiliation as he continued, the tears finally starting to well in his eyes. He continued looking at the same point before him.

"He pressed all his weight on me. I remember my stomach aching from where it was pressing into the edge of the desk. He told me I smelt good. I was wearing this special aftershave." Blue eyes momentarily flashed towards the dark eyed former lover on the second tear, before closing, as though resigning himself. When he opened them, the tears rolled down onto his cheeks. "I remember his hands all over me and me trying to plead with him, to tell him that someone would come in and see what he was doing. He didn’t listen." Percy stopped once more and turned his eyes to Draco. He continued to look at the boy as he spoke, his voice gaining strength, as though this other boy was giving it to him. "He tore my robes straight down the back, then he tore my pants." He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. "And he forced three fingers inside my anus."

Harry winced from the blatancy. He stole a glance at Ron, who was looking down at the stage, at the sleeping Marcus, in absolute disgust and loathing.

"And I remember screaming into his hand. Then he removed them." His voice suddenly grew angry, in contrast to the tears seeping with abandon down his freckled face. "And he unzipped his pants and took out his penis and forced it into me. I didn’t cry out. I couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t make any noise to voice the feeling of, of absolute powerlessness. I was in a lot of pain. He thrust into me and I started to weep. That was all I could do. I could feel… fluid down my thighs and I realized it was my own blood. I remember hoping that someone wouldn’t come in and see me in such a degrading position. His teeth were on my neck. He kept biting me, over and over. It must have lasted… I don’t know how long it lasted. Finally, he sort of screamed and-" He suddenly let out a sob, which seemed to redden his face even more with humiliation. "I knew that he had orgasmed." His eyes locked onto Draco’s once more. " I remember telling him to let me go. That I wouldn’t tell anyone. And! he took out a knife from his robes and he placed it against my throat and raped me a second time, this time telling me that he was going to slit my throat, that they would find me dead and violated and know that it was him… I remember staring at the shelving across from us and noticing how dusty it was. And I thought that it was odd that they would allow the shelves to get so dirty so easily. I never understood that. I was being violated, yet my mind was intent on those bloody shelves. And then he orgasmed the second time, then spun me around and slapped me across the face."

Harry was amazed that he was able to go through with this. The constant flow of tears and stilted and cracked delivery was testament to how difficult it must have been for the ex-student but to talk of ones own rape in such detail somewhat awed the Gryffindor.

"And he forced me to my knees, put his knife against my throat and forced his penis down my throat. I started to choke but he seemed to like it. Thankfully, this didn’t last very long. After he orgasmed down my throat, he simply rearranged his robes and left."

It was as though every one in the room breathed a collective sigh. At least the most difficult part was over.

"I never told anyone about what happened. I was able to conceal my injuries well enough. I felt too shamed, that perhaps I had some how provoked it. Mostly, I was afraid I wouldn’t be believed. But then, after Draco was attacked so viciously, then I felt I had to come forward." He looked the boy in the eye. "I’m sorry, Draco. I’m sorry I didn’t come forward earlier."

Percy just seemed to fall to pieces then, as though he had been holding back the entire time, waiting for the right moment. He placed his head in his hands and started bawling, his entire body convulsing with tremors. Harry wanted nothing more than to step onto the stage and console the brave man. Remus stood up and reached his hand across to stroke his back in a comforting way. Harry knew what he was about to say. It was obvious. There were too many similarities in the stories, even down to what Marcus said and did.

It still baffled Harry, however, that he would wait four years between victims.

On the stage, Lupin was reaffirming Harry’s thoughts, talking about the similarities in the two attacks.. The handsome man sighed, wiped his brow and frowned.

"That will be all, for today. Thank you."

The Weasleys gathered around Percy in varying ,odd fashions. He sat on a bench leading to the main courtyard of the courthouse, Ginny’s hand in his. She occasionally reached over to place her arm around around him for a hug, that wasn’t when Mrs. Weasley wasn’t openly hugging him and weeping into his chest for all to see. Arthur stood back a bit, seeming to talk to his son in what looked like uncomfortable constraints. Bill and Charlie sat on the ground before him, chatting merrily to each other and to him as if he hadn’t just given the most horrendous testimony of his life. Harry stood beside Remus, mind still reeling from the declaration.

Lucius walked up to Arthur to tear him away from the rest of the family for a talk. The silver haired man was looking rather disgruntled. Harry noticed Percy momentarily catch eyes with the curly haired figure standing under the vine creeping in startling tones of gold and violet across the gate leading out of the west side of the area surrounding the courthouse

Harry could not repress a moan of frustrated anguish. This was too much for him to handle. It bought back memories he longed to repress and had, somewhat. But, upon hearing the phantom screams in his mind, he was once again reminded of hearing his mother’s pleas as she strove to protect him. This was courtesy of a Dementor, in his third year at Hogwarts. He couldn’t account for what had happened in the courtroom, however. The memory of hearing his lover’s pleas made his legs feel weak, as though he could barely stand upright on them.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Remus affixed him with his warm brown eyes.

"Do you remember-" He stopped, spooked by the sudden feeling they were being watched. His eyes darted about the remaining guests, finally resting on a pair of intense black eyes, unflinchingly studying his every move.

"When you were teaching me the Patronus spell-"

No, the eyes weren’t studying him. They were watching Remus. Even so, Harry was finding it very disconcerting.

"And I heard. I heard."

Eyes, boring down into the ex-teacher, ex Hogwarts student. Remus nodded, indicating for Harry to continue.

"I’m sorry, Remus. But I’m distracted."

"What is it, Harry?"

Harry glanced back at the Potions Master, standing by the yellow crumbling south wall, not far from where Penelope was doing her own staring, towards the frowning Percy. The man held a look of such intensity, that Harry was convinced he heard every word they said, even from twelve or so feet away. He leaned his head forward. A bemused looking Remus reciprocated the guesture.

"It’s Snape. He keeps looking at us. Looking at you." Harry was genuinely baffled. "Not just now. He does it in court, too."

The look on Remus’ face closed his mouth. Harry couldn’t read his expression but one thing was abundantly clear. Lupin was well aware of Snape’s intense stares. The man looked at Harry so intensely that the boy found it hard not to tear his green from his gold flecked eyes. Harry had the distinct impression that Remus was on the verge of revealing something of great import. As quickly as it began, the moment subsided. The boy remembered Sirius telling him that something had happened to him and Remus while still at Hogwarts but not elucidating what. Harry had the distinct impression this had something to do with it.

The feeling of a presence beside him turned him to his best friend. Remus smiled.

"We’ll talk later, Harry."

He abruptly apparated out of the area, presumably to Sirius, back at their house.

"Ron. I’m sorry. I’m so-"

Ron suddenly grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him into his own embrace. When they released, Harry could see the tears in his friend’s eyes reappearing.

"I want to say sorry to him, Harry." Ron watched as the twins suddenly grabbed Percy by the hand and pulled him up, moving him away from the others. "But I can’t talk to him."

Mrs. Weasley yelled at the twins in protest.

"Please, Mum." George fired back.

"I don’t know what to say." Ron admitted.

Harry wasn’t sure what advice to give him. He thought about telling him to ask Hermione.

"Hermione says I should just go up to him." Ah, so he had gone to her. "But it’s not as simple as that. I’m scared, Harry. I don’t know why."

Before them, the twins were talking to Percy, an earnest expression playing about their usually cheerful faces.

"Just talk to him, Ron."

He didn’t know what else to say.

In that instant Draco walked up to Percy. Watching two of Marcus’ victims standing before each other, Harry started to collate the similarities Though varying in heights, they shared similar slight physiques, their features containing a certain delicacy, lending them an odd general vulnerability. Harry came to the conclusion that Marcus liked ones he could easily physically overpower. They also shared a similar way of moving, a high shouldered, bordering on narcissistic, pride.

The twins started to talk to Draco, leaving Percy free to walk back to his family. Instead, he turned left, moving to the west of the courthouse. Visibly holding himself, Ron stepped over to his brother. As Harry walked over to Draco, he could see Ron pulling Percy a little off to the side. Penelope, who had stepped forward to meet Percy, moved back to her original position.

"-it took two of us to be raped to get the Weasleys and Malfoys talking." Draco said, as Harry walked up to wrap his arms around him, burying his head into his shoulder. Fred and George laughed a little at Harry’s behavior. Harry didn’t care. He had been disturbed by what he had heard.

 He looked across to Ron, talking, or rather mumbling to Percy near the south wall of the building, the redhead’s equally red face to his feet.

"I love you." Harry brushed a few translucent strands away to whisper into his lover’s ear. Before him, the twins looked at each other with amused raised eyebrows. Draco turned his head to kiss Harry on the forehead. Sensing he was being watched, Harry felt his face redden upon the remembrance that not all of the Weasley’s knew he and Draco were an item. Bill Charlie and both looked impressed. Ginny held a lopsided smile, as though she was witnessing something very sweet indeed. Odd, but very sweet. Arthur simply looked totally, utterly surprised.

Percy and Ron walked back to the group. Harry looked to Ron. It was difficult to read his reaction. Percy was his usual calm self.

"I think we’re off. We’ll see you around, Draco." George said.

"Yeah, bye Draco. Bye Harry."

"Bye, Harry."

Harry and Draco watched the twins walk back over to the family group.

The twins saying goodbye to Draco and calling him by his first name. Harry tightened his hold on his lover, softly pecking his ear. Is it any stranger than him and I celebrating six months together tomorrow night? Malfoys and Weasleys getting along, versus Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy as lovers.

Harry decided him and Draco were up by a notch.

Percy hugged each of his family in turn, then moved back to Penelope. The two stared at each other a moment.

"Why didn’t you ever tell me?" The whisper was barely audible. The Weasleys, obviously deciding the two would want their privacy, began to collectively move away, through straight apparation or simply walking down the incline surrounding the crumbling house of wizard’s law. Harry noticed many of the others also disappearing out of the area.

Penelope reached up to stroke along Percy’s cheek, which he allowed. "I would have believed you."

The two embraced a moment, then released, standing awkwardly before each other. Harry did not see any more, as he apparated himself and his lover back to forestry close to Hogwarts, so the two could walk back into the school.

"I think green eyeshadow will go well with your eyes."

Harry momentarily turned from the mirror to throw a chuffawing cushion couch at his equally giggling best friend. He could not tell Ron how relieved he was that they were talking once more. It was not fun to fight with Ron. To be without the boy who had been by his side almost constantly in the past eight years, was a daunting prospect. Indeed, the last time he and Ron weren’t talking, after his name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire, he had virtually pulled his hair out in frustration. Harry Potter my have been Quidditch champion and all round loved guy, but the loss of his red-haired sidekick reduced him to a non-entity, in his own eyes. He wanted to ask Ron how his talk went with Percy, but the boy looked to be in a good mood and Harry didn’t want to tempt having him lose it. It was good to hear someone laugh after the angst of the day.

He frowned at his hair. It simply refused to be combed into a shape that didn’t look messy.

For not the first time, Harry was reminded just how opposite he and Draco were, their hair being prime example. Messy black hair, the bangs of which continually fell into Harry’s eyes, versus perfectly combed back hair so light, it was almost translucent.

"Hermione!" Ron suddenly screeched, causing Harry to jump and practically gouge his eye out with the comb.

The girl, who had just flounced into the room, regarded Harry with a smile. ‘Looking good, Harry."

Harry was relieved for her opinion. For a boy who normally didn’t care much about what he wore, he had spent an inordinate amount of time at Madam Malkins selecting an outfit for that night. He admittedly had no idea when it came to clothes, so he enlisted the help of the tittering wizard. They finally decided on tight black slacks that hung low on his hips and stopped just above the ankle, showing off his fine calves('The latest wizard fashion rage!’ Madam Malkin had told him.) Harry believed it to be a little too seventeenth century but liked the way they looked on him. He felt the same about the frilled white shirt he bought. Too Renaissance. He then complimented both with tight blood red velvet robes, accentuating his lean physique and finished with matching red slippers.

Hermione stepped over to a stray desk in the corner and dumped a load of books. Harry and Ron exchanged glances, as though daring the other to ask. It simply couldn’t be true, Harry reasoned to himself, but the constant gossip that spread through the school like wildfire seemed to suggest otherwise. A few students had the gall to openly ask her, and she snappishly told them to mind their own business.

Which meant she didn’t deny it.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors antagonism had reached new heights. It was unwelcome news that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were an item, but now… no, it simply didn’t make sense.

"Ah… Hermione… is it true?" Ron ventured.

The girl dropped down into the chair by the desk and turned her legs to face the two boys, lips pursed. Her dark brown eyes darted around the room, verifying they were the only occupants.

"No, of course it isn’t." She snapped. "Crabbe walked up to me at the Gryffindor table. I had told him specifically not to do that, that the Slytherins would become suspicious. But this rumour spread about us…" Her upper lip suddenly pulled up into a disgusted snarl at the thought. Harry couldn’t help his giggle. "And I thought just to go with it. If only to pull suspicion away from the Slytherins."

"What are you doing?"

Hermione frowned. "I can’t tell you guys. I wish I could. Let’s just say, Remus Lupin asked me if I could help him out."

"Remus Lupin?" Harry raised a brow. "This is to do with his case, isn’t it?"

Hermione’s eyes revealed the answer. "I can’t tell you."

"Why Crabbe?" Ron’s face twisted into a look of disgust upon saying the name.

The girl turned back to the desk to flip open a book to the first page, then turned back to them. Harry read pity in her eyes.

"I never thought I’d feel any empathy towards that boy." She admitted then turned a smile to Harry. "He really misses Draco. Him and Goyle both. They feel terrible about what happened."

Harry felt a flash of anger.

He was tempted to ask her if she was fully aware of the implications of two boys running away to leave their friend to be tortured. It was fine for them to feel guilty after the fact, but they didn’t see the result. They didn’t feel the boy trembling in their arms after panic set in over a thing as trifling as a spoken sentence that hit to close to what happened. Reading the anger in Harry virulent orbs, Hermione suddenly turned back to her books.

Ron, for his part, looked thoroughly relieved. "I was a bit worried about you there, Herm. Thought you’d lost your mind. We can’t have two Gryffindors dating Slytherins. I think the school would combust from the friction!"

Draco was late. This was an unusual premise. The Gryffindor stood outside Madam Malkin’s robery, stomping his feet in an attempt to lesson some of the shivering resulting from the cold breeze that swept over his threadbare clothes. He was beginning to think that he should have bought the thickest triple woolen lambskin coat he could find, instead of his admittedly beautiful, but very thin clothes.

Movement beside him turned him.

Draco seemed to be paralleling his thoughts, judging by the astonished look on his face. Both boys looked each other up and down, eyes hungrily travelling over every centimeter of the other’s bodies. Harry decided then and there that he would ravish the poor boy. He would throw him up against the wall in the alleyway beside Madam Malkins and kiss, suck and bite every centimeter of that tantalizing pale flesh. That was, judging from Draco’s lust filled face, if he didn’t ravish Harry first.

Draco had gone for similar clothes to Harry, As with Harry’s, his tight, almost violently blue pants cut off just above the ankle, his small blue slippers exposing equally beautiful calves. He wore a tight fitting tunic that stopped just below the tip of the thigh, of a shimmering silver that compliment his eyes so well, it appeared to reflect every flash of emotion that coloured the orbs in varying shades of grey. Instead of robes, he wore a thick blue velvet brocade of coat.

It was the Slytherin that was the first to step up to the other and stroke lightly down his face.

"I’ve never seen you look so beautiful, Harry."

Harry felt his heart veritably explode in his chest. This was Draco without the enchantments he wove around his own soul for protection. The look upon the boy’s face was one of truthful, raw emotion. Harry loved him so much it ached. They could kiss, they could hold each other with so much force that they bruised, they could even make love but it still wouldn’t be enough. Harry would still feel the loss.

What have we done to each other? Harry’s thought dissipated as their mouths melded together.

"You want me to what?"

Harry took off his robes and looked for place to put them, ignoring his boyfriend’s impressed intake of air upon seeing his underclothes. He finally found a coat rack in the far end of the room.

"I want us to redo our first meeting. Right now."

Draco looked at him as if he had grown horns on his back. " I really don’t know what you’re talking about."

Harry shifted feet, suddenly uncomfortable. It had seemed good, in theory. He and Draco had not started out well and he wanted to change it. But Draco’s utterly baffled stare was causing his cheeks to redden. With upright backed resolve, he grabbed the smaller boy and attempted to lift him. Draco gasped as Harry’s hands came down around his waist and pulled him up. Madam Malkin stepped into the back room to find two boys sprawled on the ground, courtesy of Harry’s efforts.

"Are you boys alright?" She snapped.

Draco swiftly rose and wiped down his tunic. "We’re fine."

His icy tone moved the woman quickly out of the room. He watched as his lover stood up.

"Sorry." Harry actually blushed. "It’s just, we didn’t start out well, and I wanted to-:"

"What are you babbling about?" Draco’s mouth had turned to a petulant frown.

"I bought you here not to buy clothes-"

"I was wondering-"

"But because this is the first place we ever met."

Draco stared at him a moment. "Oh how romantic."

He didn’t sound impressed. It was Harry’s turn now to scowl.

"So, you want to reenact our first meeting together?" The blonde suddenly walked to the centre of the room and stepped onto a wooden box with one graceful leap. "If I remember correctly, I was getting fitted with robes for Hogwarts. Does that mean we have to call Malkin back here, because I really don’t like that idea."

Harry’s scowl collapsed as his lover tilted his head to stare at him in his method of sizing up people. Seeming to be pleased with his appraisal, Draco began to speak.

"You’re obviously going to Hogwarts, aren’t you? Let me guess, first year at University. It’s… passable, I guess. The Head Master seems to enjoy employing werewolves and Death Eaters-"

"What?"

"Yes, an interesting man named Severus Snape."

"No, ex-"

"No, Death Eater. He’s rejoined, don’t you know?"

Harry’s mind flashed back to his fourth year, Dumbledore telling Snape he knew what he had to do, the strange glitter in the man’s eye. A sudden thought occurred to the boy. Green eyes widening slightly in shock, he looked up to see Draco’s puzzled face.

S-P-Y.

Spy.

Obviously Draco didn’t know.

"Well, like I said, it isn’t too bad." Draco shrugged off the look that momentarily eclipsed Harry’s face. "As long as you stay away from the Forbidden Forest in the early morning and the library at night. I hear a few kids got hurt." His eyes misted in momentary sadness, before he continued. "What house do you think you’ll be in? I’m hoping Slytherin because the other ones are pathetic, I don’t care how many times they win the house cup or the Quidditch final. Where are your parents?"

"My parents are dead."

"Oh, I’m sorry." He sounded like he didn’t mean it.

"That’s exactly what you said the first time!" Harry felt his veins boil with rage. This was not going exactly how he planned.

"Is it?" Draco’s impressed face turned to a frown when he noticed the anger in Harry’s eyes. "Come on, Harry. What do you want? Shall I fall to my knees right now and blabber at your feet? No offense, but why should I care? Did I know them?"

Harry clenched his hands into fists, his arms trembling from the pressure to not allow them to rise and slap Draco hard across the face.

"I’m sorry, hon, but it’s a harsh world. Parents die. I can’t feel sorry for every one of them"

Harry let his errant tongue speak, though he felt this time it was justified.

"Yes, it is a harsh world. Boys get raped in forests. And rightfully expect people to feel compassion for them."

He inwardly flinched, expecting anger. Instead, the boy laughed. "That isn’t going to happen, Harry. You saw how people treated me. A lot of them seemed to think I got what I deserved. No, I expect no compassion from people. If I do get it, it’s a bonus." He jumped down off the box. "This isn’t going too well, is it?"

"Considering I’m about ready to hit you, now? No, it isn’t."

Both boys ignored Malkin’s curious stare as they left the store without buying any clothes.

Harry ordered his usual, then joined his lover at the corner table. The twenty layered chocolate fudge, with chocolate topping and chocolate sprinkles followed the dark-haired boy, then slammed down onto the table. The two boys immediately grabbed their spoons and dug in. After a few seconds of indulging their gluttony, Harry spoke.

"I want to recreate the second time we met."

"You mean when I told you the Weasleys have more kids than they can afford?" Draco was still spooning the desert into his mouth as he spoke. "Not a good idea, considering what happened at Malkin’s."

Harry stared at him a moment. "Do you really think that?"

Draco shrugged, an irritable look glancing his face. "I don’t know. It was eight years ago." He caught Harry’s look and sighed. "Percy’s alright. Actually, I quite like Percy. Bill and Charlie I don’t know. The twins… ok, they can be annoying but they’re ok. Ginny, I’m not bothered either way. Same with Mrs. Weasley. And I only know Mr. Weasley from what Lucius says about him. Lucius hates Mr. Weasley."

"He is a lovely man." Harry countered.

"If you say so. Look, what is this? Guilt Draco night? Well, I can assure you now, it isn’t working. I’m not going to apologize for things I did when I was younger. Besides, I think some of it was justified."

Harry considered this a moment. Had he wanted to guilt his lover into apologizing for the harsh things he’d said and done over the years? Perhaps it was true. Harry had thought that, after what he had been through, he would have more compassion for others, and hence feel bad about how he had treated them. This seemed to be not the case, however.

Draco’s eyes affixed to a table on the far side of the room, as Harry had a realization.

"You didn’t mention Ron."

The grey orbs met Harry’s once more. "Ron and I despise each other. You know that." Harry opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted once more. "It seems we aren’t the only ones having a romantic liaison, tonight."

He indicated where his eyes had fallen before. A woman with rich dark curls and familiar redhead young man were barely touching their sundaes as they spoke intently. The girl reached across and stroked the man’s hand, in a guesture that broke a smile to Harry's lips. He was tempted to walk over and greet them, but the two seemed too much in their own secure world. In fact, the air around them seemed so intensified with an odd, sad longing. Harry suddenly felt it was a strange violation to be watching them. He swiftly turned back to his boyfriend.

"Eat up." Draco grinned. "I have a surprise of my own."

The two boys giggled and bumped into walls and each other, as they made their way up the stairs to Draco’s bedroom, too drunk on Gillywater to bother apparating, lest one splinched. They wanted all their body parts that night. Harry had never seen his lover sozzled and it was a welcome surprise. Indeed, the boy seemed to open some of the triple bolted gates that guarded his psyche. Another advantage was that he seemed to get more frisky, with every shot. And he looked to be determined to down three times as many as Harry had. The Gryffindor had a hard time catching up to him. Around the time they decided to leave, they were both literally sitting in each others laps, too drunk to care about the somewhat astonished other patrons at the Three Broomsticks, watching them kiss and paw at each other.

After a third jab at the door handle, Draco finally realized it was locked but had trouble finding his wand. Harry finally produced his and aimed it at the door.

"Alo He-he-oh-hamora."

A loud bang startled the two boys and a party balloon started to grow from the door handle, in a vastness that was covering the hall within seconds and threatening to engulf the rest of the house. Harry pulled up his lover from suffocating under the rubber.

"Finite incantum! Aloh hamora."

The door opened and the two lovers spilled into the room , Draco laughing so hard tears were rolling down his cheeks. Harry soon joined in, infected by the loud guffaws.

"Never thought I'd see you drowning under my rubber, Malfoy." Harry teased and was rewarded with a confused look.

"What ever do you mean?"

Harry stopped laughing and reached over to pull the boy to him. "I was making a sick joke about condoms, hon."

‘What is a comdom?"

Harry raised a brow. This was interesting. "Don’t you have contraceptives in the wizarding world?"

"Contraceptives? What are they? This is a muggle thing, isn’t it?"

"Evidently so."

Harry touched his lips to his lovers, pushing him gently against his own wardrobe while kicking the door shut with his foot. The kiss deepened, tongues clashing, exploring, reaching far into the back canals of hot mouths tasting of wine and chocolate. Their hands started to take cue from their tongues, touching, fondling, stroking, scratching, even slapping every bare piece of flesh that could be found. Harry ground his erection up against his lover as his head was roughly pulled back by the hair, Draco’s teeth biting into the tender skin of his neck, breaking skin. The Gryffindor had never seen his lover so rough before, and admitted it to be very erotic. A gasp escaped his lips as he grabbed the blonde by the hips to mesh their bodies together, hands yanking at his pants. Victory was conceded when he felt them rip along the seams. Draco suddenly stopped, pushed Harry back.

"They were very expensive, Potter." He tutted.

"I’m sorr-"

"Sh!" The blonde touched a finger to Harry’s lips. "You’ve been a very naughty boy. As payment, you’ll have to watch and learn."

Harry took a step forward, only to be pushed back before the boy stepped across him so he was now before the bed. Harry swiveled to be facing him, his back to the wardrobe.

"Firstly, take off your shoes and those robes and your glasses."

Harry had no hesitation in complying, throwing his glasses to the ground, kicking his shoes to the corner of the bed and shrugging his velvet robes off his shoulders, allowing them to fall to the ground before him. His heart beat jumped as his lover hungrily devoured the lithe body before him, the shirt open at the chest, revealing tantalizing rosebud nipples, the curve of the calf beneath the tight black pants.

"Beautiful." The boy murmured ,more to himself.

"What will you have me learn, oh Master?" Harry admitted he was enjoying this game.

"Just watch and learn."

The boy started with his jacket, slipping it off and throwing it playfully at his lover. Harry mock frowned as it hit him in the face. Following that were his leggings. Harry quietly took an intake of air, unconsciously holding his breathe as the toned legs were revealed an inch at a time, Draco seeming to take great pleasure in making Harry suffer. He watched the passions growing in Harry’s virulent green eyes, the fervor growing rather obviously in other parts of the body. He finally kicked the leggings under the bed along with his shoes. The tunic followed, pulled up over his head in one continuous movement.

And his lover stood naked before him. All trembling, toned alabaster flesh. Whether the shaking be through nervousness or anticipation, Harry could not tell.

"And you, Harry."

The boy started to shake himself with anticipation, not wanting to believe this. This was what he had fantasized for so long. This couldn’t possibly be happening. He was so busy staring at his lover's body, imprinting it in his mind that he could barely undo his leggings. Finally crying out in frustration, he ripped them down the front, and hastily stepped out of them. Draco nodded in approval. His endeavor to pull his shirt over his head was less successful than his lover, as his head got stuck in the volumous cloth. He struggled, only to have his arms caught in the fabric as though it had decided it wasn’t going to leave Harry’s body at whatever the cost. He shouted at Draco to help him, but was sure it was coming out as a muffle. He doubted the boy could hear him anyway, over his loud, braying laughter. Harry flailed his arms about, the shirt twisted around his head, before finally and some how tearing it free and throwing it as far from him as possible. It landed behi! nd the wardrobe, which wasn’t far enough, for Harry.

"You are hilarious, Harry when you’re drunk." Tears were pouring down the boy’s face. He stared at Harry’s naked body a moment. "I’m glad you finally got rid of that shirt. This is much better."

With no further prompts, Harry leapt onto the bed, pulling the Slytherin up with him, until he was leaning over him.

"Now it’s time for Mr. Harry Potter to do the teaching. Now, you lie there and be a good boy."

He slid down Draco’s body to his feet. Harry wasn’t a great admirer of feet but his lovers were small, dainty, the heel high, the toenails short, nicely shaped. He reached his head down and kissed the large toe of his lover’s left foot, following his lips down across all five pinkies, the touches soft, dainty, before relieving them to lick up the incline to the shaped ankle. His tongue swirled around the curved flesh, the soft, almost translucent hairs tickling his tongue. He looked up to see a bemused face staring down then traveled further up, lifting his ankle to reveal the under side of his leg. Draco shuddered and jumped as his tongue reached the back of his knee. Harry paid close attention to that area. He didn’t realize it was such an erotic zone but, judging by his lover’s gasping breathes, as he tongued the soft crevice, he was more than enjoying Harry’s antics. Not wanting to finish off his lover too soon, the black haired boy continued his tongue up the back of! his thigh, reveling in the bushiness of the coarser hairs. He spread his lover’s legs wide, hearing a muffled gasp from his lips, feeling the muscles in his legs suddenly stiffen. The tantalizing opening he would reach soon-

Harry stopped, pulled back in horror.

He looked up to his lover’s face. Tears seeped down the pale cheeks. The grey eyes were staring at him with an angry blaze that troubled him. Harry crawled up his body until they were face to face, reached a hand up to stroke a quivering jaw.

"Draco, what-?"

He gasped as a surprisingly strong arm suddenly rapped around his waist, pulling their bodies together. Harry’s erection was pressed uncomfortably against the other’s bottom. He struggled to pull up, only to be forced down again, Draco’s legs wrapping around his own, the muscles tensed from the force of weight holding Harry down. The Gryffindor’s confusion turned to panic as a hand reached for his erection, pushing it at the tender opening.

"Make love to me, Harry."

"Draco, what are you-?"

His words were cut off by soft kisses to his face, along his neck, across his nose, down his chin.

"Please, I want this to be special for you. This is for you, Harry." The boy gasped, looked away, eyes squeezed shut as he pushed sharply forward with his hand, forcing the head of Harry’s penis inside him. Harry could not surpress a moan. He could feel the intensity of being inside his lover as a current of pleasure over his entire body, goose pimpling his arms and legs. Even so, from the shamed look on Draco’s face, he was aware that he did not want this ,and was confused as to why he was doing it. He struggled to pull out, only to have pressure exerted from Draco’s heels now lifting up to push at his own buttocks, driving him in further. The blonde cried out in anguish, his head turned to the pillow, where he wept silently.

"Please, please, Harry. I want you to be happy. I want so much for your-"

Harry could barely sort out his own emotions, buried to the hilt within his lover. This was insane. What on earth was he doing? This wasn’t how he had envisioned making love to Draco. He had imagined him to be relaxed, eager, not tensed and weeping, not even able to look at him.

Harry struggled to pull out. The cold blooded scream took the boy totally by surprise and he was suddenly pushed back with such force he was pulled roughly out of his lover and fell onto the floor, bending his knee at a painful angle. Draco screamed once more and raced for the door, somehow managing to pick up his night robe as he went. He was fast. Being snitch seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team for six years was resultant of that but Harry was faster. He caught the boy as he reached the door and tackled him to the ground, his hand around his waist. As soon as they hit the floor, he released but the boy continued to scream.

No, Harry. No, please, no." He cringed up against the door, the sounds lessening but still obvious in their terror. Harry snatched a glance to see if he had hurt Draco when he was forced to abruptly pull out. He was relieved to see he was untorn.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Draco."

The boy crawled up to him and wrapped his arms around his waist, burying his head into his stomach.

"No, it’s not your fault. I wanted you to be happy, Harry. I wanted this night to be perfect for you."

"It was." He kissed the top of the trembling boy’s head. "It was."

He wrapped the gown firmly around him, following that with his arms.

"I thought. Six months. I should be ready by now. You’ve been so patient, Harry."

The dark haired boy sighed, reached under his lover’s chin to tilt his head up. "How many times do I have to tell you until you actually believe me. I –don’t-care. Listen, I am only willing when you are entirely one hundred percent sure. Do you really think I could have when you were crying and not even looking at me?"

"I thought if I got drunk…"

"Sh." Harry placed his hands under the boys buttocks and lifted him, intending to carry him over to the bed, only to find the boy’s delicate appearance still did not hold up to Harry’s strength. Both collapsed to the floor once more. Harry shuddered as he recalled the thick slices of pink scars marring the pale skin around his lovers opening. Just as Marcus was marked across his stomach, so now too was his victim in a more delicate place. He looked down to his lover’s face. At times he felt more like a muggle counselor than lover.

"Did I hurt you?"

"It’ just… I couldn’t. I thought it would be wonderful. That is how I always imagined with you. But, instead, it was… ugly."

Harry trailed a finger across his lip. "How about if we tried it the other way? You make love to me."

Draco shook his head vehemently. "No, that would make it worse. Believe me, Harry. You don’t know the extent of Marcus’ sickness."

Harry bit his tongue against a nasty comment. He was tired of Marcus, no, Harry amended, this thing, coming between them. He felt as though he was competing with him for Draco’s attentions. Which was absurd. But then, Harry couldn’t go a day without that dreaded name being mentioned. They couldn’t try any new sexual acts without his presence.

He felt sick. Sick and tired. It was as though he was continually fighting an uphill battle against an unseen villain.

But then…

Seeing the look of utter adoration and love in Draco’s eyes made it all worth it. He bent down to kiss his lover chastely on the lips.

"No more passion tonight."

He really wasn’t in the mood. From the looks on his lover’s face, he wasn’t either.

He stood up and helped his lover to his feet, tying his gown at the front. Draco simply watched him, a guarded expression on his face. Harry then walked him over to the bed and sat him down, sitting beside him and resting his head in his lap. The pressure in his brain began to dissolve from his lover’s tender massage to his temple. The other hand reached behind to pull the blanket off the bed. Harry moved up to sit in his lover’s lap, nestling his crotch against the others while wrapping his legs around Draco’s waist to allow Draco to wrap the silk around the both of them. The close proximity meant their faces were barely an inch from the other. Harry was amazed. After six months, the raised heartbeat, dried mouth and intense pleasure that signaled love sickness still started every time he looked at his lover.

"I still hate you." Draco’s smile signaled his tease.

"I despise you." Harry countered.

"Bloody courageous Gryffindor."

"Scheming Slytherin."

"Self absorbed Quidditch try-hard champion."

Harry raised a brow. "Self absorbed spoilt brat."

Draco broke the tirade of insults by breaking out with laughter. He cupped Harry’s face with his hand, long fingers stroking along the cheek, jaw, before leaning in for a kiss.

Ah. Harry couldn’t get enough of this.

The long kiss turned to shorter kisses about faces and necks, hands wandering to freely stroke bare flesh. Harry did not even try to take the bed gown off his lover. It did not take long for stroking hands to finish the other off.

Harry had another of ‘those’ dreams that night. This one involving some rather inventing lovemaking on Harry’s flying Quidditch stick. He cleaned the mess in the morning before his lover woke up, relieved Draco did not know about it. He did not realize, however, that he had said rather a few interesting and telling words in his sleep, much to the amusement of the blonde.

Epilogue- Twenty Years Earlier.

Severus was watching HIM again. Always HIM. The boy was a nuisance, a disturbance that had been in his head ever since he was twelve years old. For five years, Remus Lupin had captivated him. The way he moved, the way he talked, his funny quirks such as the way his hand rested on his face when he was concentrating, the little finger sticking up.

He longed to talk to him, distract every minute piece of information he could from that magnificent mind. He would simply watch him for hours on end, listen to the effervescent words flow from those luscious lips. In this fantasy, Snape wouldn’t judge, he would simply take it all in. And then he would return it, tell the boy every detail of his miserable life. Remus would hold him, stroke his hair as he poured out the terrible secret of his father’s beatings that he would hold even twenty years later.

Then Remus would allow him to make love to him, slowly, so he could savor every moan, every shudder, every plead for him to go deeper, harder.

Severus was himself getting hard and was glad he was seated behind a desk. Professor Quince droned on about encapturing vampires but he wasn’t paying the least bit of attention. No, why should he allow himself to be distracted by the old looney when there was such a tempting distraction seated three seats beside him.

Weak little Peter Pettigrew, that pretty boy show off Potter and HIM. Beautiful boy. Eyes staring so intently at the teacher, lips pursed, sunlight through gold, red and blue stained glassed window highlighting red streaks in his caramel hair. The boy jumped a little and turned to the one beside him, who grabbed his hand, stroking along the palm for a moment before releasing, leaving a small piece of yellow parchment in the tiny fingers.

Then there was Sirius Black. Devilishly handsome, annoyingly charming, terror of the ladies, top of all his classes fucking God. He could have his pick from any number of students but chose Lupin.

And Severus hated him for it. Hated them both.

"Do you think they did it this morning?" Snape ignored the chubby boy beside him but he persisted. "Where do you wonder it was? Knowing Black, some where relatively dangerous. Against one of the walls, maybe? Yeah, I bet he just threw Lupin up and fucked him right up against the wall before he even had a chance to be used to it."

Snape finally turned his gaze from HIS Lupin.

"Don’t speak again."

Crispin’s lips pulled up into a smirk. A disgruntled clearing throat beside him signaled Lucius’ irritation at the conversation.

"I bet he loved it. I bet he was crying out for more."

" I will not grace my ears with this disgusting conversation any longer." Snape turned back to stare at the delicate looking boy, biting down the turbulent emotions swirling around his angst wracked body.